Sun/Moon Oneshots!

Helping hand

Authors note;
I both hate this and love this. Also, I might just take this down and delete this if I decide I want to/need to.

Warnings; Swearing, homophobia, f slur (used repeatedly), OOC Sun(?), Male Reader, not proofread

- If  you can't deal with anything listed, or it makes you uncomfortable in any way, please don't read.

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His footsteps were quiet as he treaded the short distance to his locker, the stillness in the air peaceful to most yet unnerving to him. He opened his locker, storing away the things he needn't take home, when he smelled it. The strong smell that he was about to get hollered at by Troy Haywood, not necessarily a bully but does pack a punch.

He hurriedly shut his locker, attempting to leave when he caught sight of the brunette. "[Y.Name] [L.Name]!" He yelled, making the other boy stop in his dash for the doors to freedom, slowly turning 190° degrees to face the other. The setting sun could be seen through the glass doors he was ever so close to but all too far at the same time.

The very end of school, when there were no teachers nor students; the ample time for Troy to beat him up so badly he limped home and had bruises for weeks. The [H.Colour] male internally cursed he'd been later out, or that his last class was halfway across the school. "Troy..." He mumbled in response, as the brunette walked over with a swagger, one eyebrow raised, a cocky grin the other would love to smack off his face.

"So, [L.Name], you've been getting a bit of attention. Quite a bit, actually." Troy said as casually as he would have asked about the weather, leaning on the locker close to where the other boy stood, focused on his face, but not at the same time. "Didn't take you as that kind of guy, yet I'm not surprised. You always were too weird," [Y.Name]'s eyes wandered to the opposite end of the hall, where he hoped someone would walk from and scare Troy off. No one came.

Reluctantly, he pulled his gaze back to Troy, who still had that smug look on his face. It contorted into a pout, faking concern. "Awh, did you want your boyfriend to come running down and save you?" The [H.Colour] male responded by looking at his feet, sending Troy into another fit of forced, jeering laughter. "You're such a fag, you know that?" Troy hissed, much too quickly pushing off of the locker and advancing toward the shorter male, who startled and backed up, eyes wide.

The word held so much hatred and disgust that [Y.Name]'s eyes actually began to water, threatening to spill. "You're so weak! You're crying over a word, a fucking word!" Troy yelled, shoving him once, making him trip on his feet and fall flat on his ass. "Just leave me alone, Troy-" he began, but let out a yelp as the male standing above grabbed a fistful of his hair, smashing his face with force into the locker opposite.

"Shut it, faggot." He spat, as you screamed in agony as he did it again, tears rolling down the opposing male's face. "You probably like this, huh, freak?" He sneered, watching as a small droplet of blood began to trickle down the side of [Y.Name]'s face, which was contorted in agony. The boy on the floor writhed, flailing in attempt to get Troy off. In a successful kick to his shin, Troy let go, stumbling back before falling down.

[Y.Name] scrambled to get up, head pounding and vision slightly blurry from the tears and the dots clouding his vision. "You little bitch-" Troy seethed, standing up and storming over. Immediately, [Y.Name] began to scramble back, only to be knocked down again by Troy's fist colliding with his jaw. "You're gonna pay for that," Troy threatened, leaning over [Y.Name] and lifting him by the shirt, fists pulled back and aimed at his nose.

The once comforting sound of birds chirping carried through the open windows and classroom doors now ebbed away as fear clenched around his heart, blood pounding in his ears as he acknowledged he wouldn't be escaping today with bruises and more psychological trauma.

He tried not to flail, lest his beating worsen, and screwed his eyes up tight, waiting for the hit that never came. Instead, he was unceremoniously dropped once more onto the cold tile of the floor, opening his eyes wide to see Troy stagger to the right, collapsing to the ground. Just behind where he was, he saw someone he never guessed would save you.

Sammy Drop (or Sunny D as [Y.Name] made up one boring lesson) was panting, staring at the unconscious body of Troy as if expecting it to move. Then, his azure eyes turned on him and he stepped closer, extending a hand. "Are you alright, friend?" He asked, concern sweeping his face. [Y.Name] felt his cheeks heat up, nodding slightly before clutching his head in pain.

"Oh gosh! Your head- here, come with me, okay?" He spluttered, wrapping an arm around the other as if worried he'd drop to the ground at any moment (which, given how shaky his legs were and how his head was pounding, [Y.Name] assumed he might).

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You'd briefly spoken to Sunny maybe once or twice, but Sunny had never gone out of his way to be friends with you, which is what stuck with you. He's just doing this to be friendly, a voice in the back of your head nags, he doesn't like you. Of course, this was accompanied by some other less than pleasant thoughts, but you shut them out before they got to you.

Who cares if he was just being nice? You'd relish in the moment of as long as possible, if you could. God, you're lonely, the voice nags again, and you almost laugh. It's true, of course; you'd moved country, schools, had no friends and instead of tell your family you lied and said you were having a great time, making various excuses for bruises. "Kids will be kids," you thought bitterly. You hated that saying so much.

"There, all patched up!" Sunny exclaims, backing up to take a look at you and wringing his hands nervously. You attempt not to blush as you watch his eyes rake over you, up and down slowly, biting his lip in such a way that had your breath stutter in your throat. "Thank you so much, Sunny..." You mumble, getting off of the table you'd been sat on. You miss the way he face changes colour at the nickname.

You ankle catches on something you hadn't seen, maybe a table leg or something, and fell onto Sun, knocking him down. You sat up, "I'm so sorry-" you began, but then noticed how you were sat. You were straddling him, his hands on your waist, almost securing you. Your eyes met his as he, too, realised what a horrible position this was. Despite this, however, neither on of you moved, transfixed.

The door at least four steps away from you two opened, Sun's twin brother Miles walking in. "Sammy, come on, we-" he paused, seeing the scene as your blush worsened. Miles nodded slowly after a moment, saying "Don't spend too long in here, I wanna go home," before hurriedly closing the door. You scrambled to get up, back off of Sun who jumped to his feet, heading for the door before pausing, turning to face you.

Sun looked lost for a moment before kissing your cheek lightly like a five year old would do before tearing off out of the door, trying to convince his brother it wasn't what it seemed. Your face felt as though it was going to melt off but you left the room, watching them with a fond smile. You sigh, picking up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, trudging to the exit.

As you step out into the evening, clouds shaded in pinks and purple, a newfound hope blooms within your chest and you smile, thankful for not only the fact your head began to ache less but also the interaction with Sun.

Shaking your head, you turned your head away from the sky and told yourself to stop being dramatic and just get home before you were grounded.