Oneshots {DEH - BMC - Heathers - Hamilton}

The Punk and the Pastel {Tree Bros}

A/N Punk - Connor; Pastel - Evan

(Connor's POV)

I was doodling on my paper in art class, although we were supposed to be paying attention to some PowerPoint on the history of dot-ism or whatever. Honestly, I hated taking this class but loved art. No one knew the latter, of course.

See, I'm a Punk. Jet black and choppy hair, dark grey nails, rings, black ripped jeans, and band sweatshirts. In today's society, you're a Jock, Punk, Pastel, or Nerd. All of those are status quos, and if you're off the norm you're a total outcast. If you conform to one you're at least part of something.

But being a punk has its downsides. Sure I'm a badass and no one will ever talk to me, but I'm not allowed to hang out with anyone outside of the Punks. A shame too, because there's this really cute Pastel I've got my eyes on.

He sits in front of me in art class, he's also one of the reasons I'm taking this class. He has soft blonde hair, always has a tinted highlighter on his face, and typically wears blues. Except on Wednesday when all the Pastels wear pink. Evan is his name.

"Mr. Murphy, can you tell me what this painting means to you?" the teacher asked, clearly calling me out for spacing out.

"Dots," I said with a straight face. I mean, it was a pointillism painting, so I was close. The only person who laughed was Evan. 

"No. Please go outside the room, Mr. Murphy."

"It's Connor, ma'am," I smirked on my way out. I sat in the hallway and picked at my nail polish, waiting to be let back in.

It had been about 5 minutes when Evan walked out. "She said you can come back in," Evan mumbled and looked at the floor.

"I'm not voluntarily going back in there," I told him and I looked at his face.

"O-okay.. Bye then.." Evan turned away.

"Nah, you don't want to go back in either, do you? We've been on this for about half a week and all you've drawn in your book is some manga."

"What? How do you-"

"I sit behind you. Remember? Let's go do something," I mutter and stand up. Before Evan can protest I take his hand and walk to my car.

"B-both of us will be in a lot of trouble if anyone sees us.. and- and I'm not just talking about teachers.." 

"Oh chill. Cmon! Let's go get stoned!" I mock excitement and hop in the car. I wanted to hold his hand again but advise myself against it. 

Evan smiled and tapped his foot quickly.

I drove to some abandoned parking lot, somewhere I knew no one could see us. "You want a blunt?" I ask as I run my hand under the seat and find my stash.

"Isn't that b-bad?" Evan said with a raised eyebrow. 

"You already skipped school, ya perfect Pastel, so what's the harm?" I took out my lighter and started smoking one. 

A smile danced on Evan's face, then he took one out of the bag. He lit it and took a puff, but went into a small coughing fit, making me laugh a little. 

We smoked in silence for a little, until I finally picked up some courage (probably because of the weed). "Ya know, I sort of hate that we're all separated into shitty little groups.."

"Me too. Can't we just be normal and hang out with whoever, go.. I don't know, smoke a joint once in a while! God, sometimes the Pastels drive me nuts.."

"Yeah.. and all the stupid, stupid rules!"

"Yeah! Like, I can't even be with the boy I like 'cause he's a stupid Punk."

"And I can't kiss the cutest boy in the world 'cause he's a Pastel!"

We both took a minute to process what the other said then stared at each other. I slowly moved closer to Evan and felt my heart start to race. 

"I shouldn't even do this," I whisper as I lean forward.

Our lips connected and fireworks went off in my brain. I held his cheek with my hand and pulled away, smiling. Evan's sweaty hand grabbed mine, and I didn't mind.

"Yet here we are, the Punk and the Pastel, together at last.."