Solangelo Oneshots

Changed

Trigger warning: Homophobia, bullying, name calling, depression
Prompt from ffoodie

Youngish Nico POV
Okay, I thought, just tell him. He's your best friend, it will be fine. I walked over to my friend, playing on the swing behind his home. "Hey, Will?" I asked him. He stopped swinging and smiled at me. "Yeah?"
"I need to tell you something."
"What is it? Are you hurt?"
"No, I just..." I took another deep breath. "I'm gay. I like boys." Will's smile disappeared, replaced by a confused look. "But you're a boy?"
"Yeah." I dragged my foot through the grass. "But...." He said, "That's wrong. No. I can't be your friend. Go home."
"Will, I-" I'm almost crying. Oh, no. I'm going to cry in front of him.
"Go home, Nico." He walks back inside his house and calls upstairs to his mom, no doubt telling her what a freak I am. So I try to blink the tears out of my eyes as I walk home.

"Fag!" Rose yells at me as she throws another pinecone. Will told everyone. He stands next to Rose with his beautiful blue eyes squinting angrily at me. I smile at him, hoping he won't join in on the pinecone attack, but I guess I'm just really unlucky. "Will, please. Please stop." I ask. He doesn't. Every day, I ask him to stop. Every day, he doesn't.

Will moves away. Even though he's been mean to me for about a year now, I'm kind of sad to see him go.

-About Six Years Later-
"Class, today someone is rejoining us. Will Solace." The teacher looks to the room, perhaps expecting some kind of reaction. When she got no reaction, she just told Will to find an open seat. Oh no, why? There are so many open seats, yet he sits next to me? Why? He hates me. He made that very clear before he left. Either he has forgotten or simply doesn't care. So I just sit there and do my work, pretending to not notice the pair of gorgeous blue eyes drilling into my head.

"Nico! Nico!" Will shouts to me. I take a moment to contemplate whether or not I should run and hide or just take the pain that was about to be inflicted upon me. I didn't have much time to decide, and Will caught up with me before I knew. "How are you doing?" He asks cheerfully. "I haven't seen you in so long!" What? Has he forgotten? Is he just playing with my emotions? What's going on?
"Why do you care?" I respond. He looks confused.
"What? Just because I haven't seen you in years doesn't mean I don't want to be your friend."
"Sure." I scoff, walking toward my locker. Thankfully, his was coming up, and then he wouldn't have an excuse to follow me. "Torturing a 'faggot' is the best way to get said faggot to like you. Genius, Will. Really. Gold star." I walk down a hallway, mostly to get away from him, and he doesn't follow me.

I'm quick about it. I grab my stuff and run before they can catch me. Will might have started the bullying (even if he seemingly doesn't remember), but it continued after he left. I grab my bag and dash out the back exit, sprinting the few streets to my house. I don't breath comfortably until I'm in my room, door locked, headphones in, sketchpad in hand. This is where I'm most at peace. This is where I belong.

I wake up to the worst sound in the world. Crazy=Genius by Panic! At the Disco. It used to be one of my favorite songs, so I made it my alarm. Big mistake. Turns out that instead of me hating the mornings less, it just made me hate the song more. Now I can't change it because then I'll start hating that song, and I don't want another thing ruined for me.

"And for your history project, each group will write a six page essay on the Great Depression." The teacher said. "It's due by next Monday. Groups are as follows. No arguments." She talked for what felt like hours before she finally gets to my name. "Nico Di Angelo and Will Solace." Dang, I should have expected this. Just my luck.

I don't wait for my history partner, I just start the project. He's just going to make it harder. I've written two pages by the time he finally arrives at my house, that slow-poke.
"Hey," He pants, as if he's just been for a long run. "Sorry I'm late. My mom didn't want me to come." He sits next to me. "What can I do?"
I shake my head. "Nothing, I'm fine." He sighs and lays his head on my desk, slumping as if he was made of jello. "Come on. I wanna help." He sticks out his lower lip and pouts like a whiny toddler. "Shut up, Solace." My saying this does not make him stop. I finally give him something to research, if only to get rid of him, with his beautiful pouty face and sky blue eyes and- yeah. "Nico?" Will asks me. I sigh and turn around. "What?" He looks around my bedroom nervously. I wanted to work in the living room, but my dad was in there. I didn't want to work near him, and I don't think he would appreciate Will's giggly demeanor. "Um," he hesitates for a moment. "What did you mean yesterday?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you said something about torturing gay people? Then you sarcastically called me a genius. And I'm wondering what you meant."
I just stare at him for a good two minutes. When I finally speak, my words are slow and well-calculated. "You don't remember." This is a statement. He smiles awkwardly and asks, "Remember what?"
"When we were young. And I told you I was gay. And you called me a fag. And you told everyone. And you bullied me. And you didn't help me when I was being bullied by others. Are you seriously telling me you  remember none of that?" Will looks shocked. He holds his hand up to his cheek as if I had just slapped him. "What? No. No. No. I couldn't have. Oh my god." He slams his head into his hands, shaking his head. After about seven minutes of him silently sobbing, he looks to me. His eyes are still beautiful, even with them filled with tears. "Oh my god, Nico. I'm so, so sorry. I had no idea. What the hell is wrong with me? No wonder you hate me!"
"Will, I don't hate you anymore." The words shock me as I say them. And even more surprisingly, I realize I mean them. Years of hatred erased with four simple words.

Will POV
I don't hate you. He doesn't hate me, even though he should. I was terrible. I can barely believe it, I didn't remember doing that, which is weird on its own. I grew up in a very homophobic environment, so I guess it makes sense that I...... acted that way. Even though it doesn't make it right.

I thought being gay was wrong until about two years ago. I realized I was bi about a year before that and boy did I hate myself. I thought I was a freak. That's what I grew up hearing. Heck, my parents have a Donald Trump sticker on their car. My mom has a 'marriage = 1 man +1 woman' shirt. Imagine how they'd react to having a bisexual, gender role crushing son who's in love with his (male) friend. Hahaha. They'd literally kill me. Or at least kick me out of their house. My dad (I'm pretty sure he's bi too, just in denial.) would beat me up and throw me out onto the street. Can you technically disown a kid here? I don't know, but if I came out, I would certainly know the answer soon. Good thing I'm safe and in the closet, slowly deteriorating due to living a lie.

I look back to Nico, still not able to meet his eye. "Why?" I ask.
"Why what?" He's painfully and adorably oblivious. I wish I could take back all the things I said. I wish I could go back in time and smack some sense into little Will. Just like, "Listen here, Sonny. Yer gonna love this boy one day and he's gonna hate ya because you darn mentally and physically abused him. So get yer act together." Dang, I'm a pirate now? Better than being a homophobic asshole.

"Why what?" He repeats, snapping me back into reality.
"Why are you forgiving me?" I ask again.
"Because," Nico hesitates for a moment, as if making sure all his words are true before he says them. "Because I think you've genuinely changed. You're no longer the cute yet mean boy who throws pine ones and rocks, but the boy who... I don't know. Not that, hopefully. I don't know this new, not an asshole Will, but I'd like to." Dammit. I just stopped crying, and now this amazing boy had to go and be amazing like always and now I'm crying again. I put my head in my hands. I feel a hand on my arm, patting it gently. "Pat pat." Nico says. "Pat pat."  I look up to him and start laughing. "What? Why are you saying 'pat pat?'" He cringes and replies, "Those are the comfort words."

Nico POV
Okay, so the comfort words were wrong. Will was comforted, but more in an 'I'm laughing at you so much that I can't hate myself for something I did seven years ago' kind of way. But I wasn't wrong about one thing. I wasn't wrong that he had changed. He's no longer the boy who throws rocks and calls names, he's the boy who always looks on the bright side. Who comforts the small child who just fell off their bike. Who cares so deeply that you wonder why the whole world couldn't be more like him. He stands up for me when I'm called names. He's there for me when I need him. He's..... Well, he's Will.