Paw patrol one shots

Unlikely

Zuma stood under the small awning outside of the college as he watched the rain hammer down. He smiled as he faintly made out three figures running towards him - three of his best friends.

"Christ it's pissing it down!" Chase exclaimed, shaking his head and flicking water all over Zuma, Marshall and Tracker.

"Good job the others are already here because I was not gonna carry Rocky today." Marshall laughed.

The three finally looked at Zuma who rather than his previous smile, now wore a frown.

"Uh..."

"Missing anything? Anyone?" He asked, folding his arms.

"Fuck." Chase muttered.

"How?!" Zuma yelled, making the others flinch.

"We forgot." Marshall mumbled.

"Sorry?"

"We forgot."

"Again?"

"We forgot."

"See it still sounds like you're saying you forgot!" The taller brunette snapped. When the three continued to look down at their feet, Zuma sighed in frustration and pulled up the hood on his hoodie.

"Where are you going?" Tracker asked.

"Where do you think?!" Zuma ran out into the rain to collect the forgotten member of the group.

Before too long, he arrived - soaked to the skin - at the shiny blue door. He knocked a few times and was greeted with Rachel. The blonde woman smiled down at the slightly shorter brunette.

"Morning Zuma."

"Morning Mrs. George. Is he still here?" The brunette asked politely. The woman nodded.

"Still upstairs in his room. For a moment, I thought he'd been forgotten." She laughed.

"Heh. No - just trying to find the new house." Zuma half lied.

"Well, his room is the second one on the right. I need to head off to work. I'll see you later Zuma."

"Goodbye Mrs George." Zuma waved.

"For gods sake boy, call me Rachel." She laughed again, closing the door behind her. Zuma walked up the stairs, after taking off his now muddy trainers, and knocked on the bedroom door. There was a muffled reply so he walked in.

"Good morning Lov-" Zuma cut himself off. "Rubble, what's wrong?" Concern was laced in his voice. He found the shorter boy, dressed in black jeans and a yellow hoodie just staring sadly at his own reflection in the mirror.

"I hate it." The shorter boy mumbled, tears spilling from his eyes.

"Hate what?" Zuma asked gently, sitting on the edge of his boyfriend's bed. Rubble sighed and motioned to the mirror. "What do you see?"

Most people would think it was crazy that Rubble was being comforted by Zuma, let alone the two dating.

Rubble moved his hands into his pockets. "A girl." He mumbled. Zuma stood up and walked over, standing behind the shorter boy. He wrapped his arms around Rubble and leaned down a little, resting his chin on the blonde boy's head.

"I don't." He said, tenderly stroking his lover's sides and kissing his cheek. Zuma knew how badly Rubble suffered when it came to dysphoria - especially when his dad continued to call him 'Ruby'.

The freckled boy allowed his boyfriend to pull him to the bed and onto his lap, resting his head over Zuma's heart. As the brunette continued to comfort his boyfriend by rubbing his sides, he noticed something, his binder felt... different.

"Did your mum get a new binder?" He asked. Rubble turned pale and shook his head. "How many are you wearing?" Rubble contemplated lying but after looking at Zuma's caring hazel eyes, he couldn't do it.

"Two." He whispered.

"How long for?"

"A week."

"Rubble - you need to take breaks." Zuma scolded lightly.

"I have... when I've taken showers."

"Take them off. Please. I don't want you hurting yourself." The brunette pleaded, turning his back to give Rubble some privacy.

The blonde boy sighed and removed the two binders, almost immediately pulling his hoodie back on. "You're good." He said, making Zuma turn back round and hug him again.

"Do you wanna go in today?" The brunette asked, already knowing the answer. Sure enough, rubble shook his head. Zuma pulled his phone out and emailed their tutor, Ryder, who would mark their absence as medical.

"Sorted." Zuma said, kissing Rubble's head. The shorter of the two reached up and kissed his boyfriend's cheek, every few moments moving closer to his lips.

Zuma sighed contentedly when the two pairs of lips met. He never took advantage of a situation and made sure that Rubble was comfortable with what they did - hence the shorter one initiating the kiss. He curled his fists in Zuma's shirt as the brunette gently moved one hand up into his hair.

After a few moments, they pulled apart, resting in each other's arms.

"I want pizza." Rubble said. Zuma laughed and gently lay the pair of them down.

"I want to cuddle." The taller whined.

"Who cares what you want? I want pizza."

Yes. To anyone who met them it may seem their relationship would be unlikely, but to them and their friends - it made perfect sense.