OC Oneshots :)

apple on a stick

Maybe i'll make this an extended chaptered story who knowsssssss?

((tw: major character death, mention of car accident))

"A hundred and eighty? You gotta be kidding me."

"I'm not." Hugh handed Mathis a couple of scores. They were a little battered, but they were legible.

"I can't do it that fast."

"Yeah you can."

"I can't."

"Yeah you can. You've done faster," Hugh said, fishing out his phone and scrolling through the few applications he had, clicking into the digital metronome app.

"And what's that thing for?" Mathis asked, jabbing his drumsticks toward the metronome perched on the piano and cocking an eyebrow.

"Blah, that thing's fucking old as shit," Hugh said, waving it off and typing something. "It's no good for fast tempos."

"I told you it was fast."

"Shut the fuck up," Hugh said, not unaffectionately, "and just listen."

He pressed play, and the clap of the metronome went, on and on, sending Mathis back to ages ago—five years ago.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap—

"Okay, okay, I got it," said a twelve-year-old Mathis, grinning sheepishly. "We gotta start it slower though."

"Okay," the boy in front of him said. He looked just like Mathis—a little scrawny, shorter than the average twelve-year-old kid, with a head of honey blond hair that was just a tad too wavy to be straight.

"Y'ready?" he said with a grin. It made Mathis grin too.

"Yeah. Okay, three—"

"—two—"

"—one—"

"Apple on a stick, it makes me sick, it makes my heart go two-four-six."

The boys giggled as they went along.

"Here comes a—You forgot to knock."

"Oh right." Mathis smiled apologetically. "Sorry."

"N-no, it's fun!" the boy smiled.

"Okay. Here comes a lady with a pickle up her bum."

Both of them giggled and went on.

"...Close your eyes and count to ten, if you muck up you're not my best friend—wait, Noel?" said Mathis hesitantly, bringing the game to another abrupt stop.

"Mm?" Noel tilted his head. "Yeah?"

"We won't take this seriously, will we?" asked Mathis again. "We'll still be best friends—right? Even if I mess up?"

Noel giggled, nudging Mathis with a knuckle. "'Course we will. You're always my best friend."

"Promise?"

"Promise," said Noel, sticking an index finger out. "We'll do our index promise."

"Index promise," echoed Mathis, hooking his index finger around Noel's. Pinky promises were much lamer and weaker than index promises, the boys had decided two years back, so index promises were all they really worked with.