Falsettos Oneshots

Pastel/Punk AU (kind of)//Homosexual

At Brooklyn High, there were only two cliques: the punks, and the pastels. The punks consisted of a bunch of snarky, cold-hearted people who wore only dark colors and leather. The pastels, on the other hand-well, they were the opposite.

Marvin thought all of that was crap. Why was he obligated to conform to a dumb clique that wouldn't give a shit about him under any circumstances? To hell with that. Instead, Marvin was just... Marvin. Sure, people made fun of him. They called him a pussy for not wanting to join one of the cliques. He'd been beaten up several times before. Still, he didn't see the point. There was only one thing Marvin didn't hate about the cliques, and that was Whizzer Brown. He was unlike any of the punks Marvin had ever met, sweet, and caring. Openly gay. He didn't ever have blood on his knuckles, and he was polite. Even with all of this, everybody respected him. The pastels would kill for a conversation with him, and the other punks were proud to have him. Marvin, on the other hand, practically drooled over the boy.

Whizzer barely talked to anybody, unless it was necessary. He minded his own business, and usually stayed away from fights and crowds. Despite his popularity, he sat alone at lunch. Nobody ever tried to sit with him, because he looked perfectly content alone.

"Oh my god, look at him," Marvin whispered to his best friends, Charlotte and Cordelia (who were both punks) as he let himself stare at Whizzer. His feet were up on the table, and he was staring down at his phone, smiling slightly. Cordelia sighed, shaking her head.

"Just go and talk to him, he won't mind." She said, raising an eye-brow. Marvin felt all giddy at the thought of talking to Whizzer.

"I'm not a punk, though. Or a pastel, for that matter." Marvin said, frowning.

"For the millionth time, he won't care." Charlotte groaned, picking Marvin up by the shoulder and shoving Marvin in the direction of Whizzer's table. Whizzer looked up from his phone and right at Marvin, raising an eyebrow. Marvin, who was currently regretting his decision to wake up in the morning, reached incredibly far into the back of his brain for an excuse.

"Do you, um... have the answers to the math homework?" He asked quickly, his face heating up. Whizzer laughed.

"I never do my homework. Plus, we didn't even have any today." Marvin's eyes widened.

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, my friend kind of just shoved me over here as a joke, I didn't know what to say. I'm just going to go back now-"

"You can stay, if you want." Whizzer said, smiling and pulling his feet from off the table. Marvin's heart was beating rapidly in his chest, and he nodded, sitting down a couple of seats down from Whizzer. "You're Marvin, right?" Whizzer asked, and Marvin nodded. "I'm Whizzer." As if he had to introduce himself.

"What's it like being the lead punk?" Marvin asked, after a few moments of silence. Whizzer could have laughed.

"What's it like being the only sensible person in the school?" Whizzer asked. Marvin shrugged.

"I don't see it that way. I always feel like a fucking idiot."

"Really? I don't think you're an idiot." Whizzer said softly, grinning. "Cliques are stupid."

"You're literally in one." Whizzer looked Marvin in the eyes, frowning. Marvin felt his heart skip a beat. "Barely even. You basically are one."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Whizzer asked, leaning his elbows on the table. The boy was so fucking cute in leather, and Marvin thought he was going to die.