Friday Night Funkin Oneshots! *Open!*

💢Once You Hurt Me💢

This story was for myself, inspired by another short story I wrote not related to fnf. I rewrote it and adjusted it a little... enjoy!

Pov - Bf, third person
Setting - A graduation party
Word count - 1183

⚠️ TW - Violence, blood, smoking, mention of weapons and drugs, heartbreak, and some weak language. ⚠️

Blu and Pico have been friends since preschool. They went to the same schools growing up, all the way to high school, both of them now fifteen years old. They did absolutely everything together. Despite their contrasting personalities, they always got along. They understood each other better than they knew themselves. The two had been together in a relationship for two years now.

Blu was a simple boy. He may be short, but he was feisty, able to insult someone on the fly. He was also a bookworm, capable of turning pages and reading music. He started writing songs and singing, finding a new hobby. His advanced vocabulary he mimicked from novels were put into songs. He rapped at lightning speed, spitting rhymes and tongue-twisters effortlessly, earning him quite a reputation in school.

Pico was a young lad that didn't have the booksmarts like his boyfriend did, but processed all the streetsmarts in the world, always looking out for his beloved cyan-haired fluffball and secretly carrying some kind of weapon with him at all times. Pico partook in sports such as basketball and baseball in his spare time. He was thinking about joining the football team next year as a junior.

The boys were pretty popular, attracting the attention of… strange people. One Friday after school, they went to an end-of-year party at a friend's house.

"Hey Blu, have you read enough yet, bookworm?" Pico jokingly smacked Blu's shoulder. Blu looked up from his book and rubbed where Pico had struck him.

"Perhaps, mmmmm." Blu hummed. He shouldn't be nose deep in books at parties, yet here he was being antisocial as usual.

"Dude, I want you to meet some guys I met!" Pico exclaimed while holding his scruffy hand out to a group of tall, muscular boys. They looked like your typical bad boys. Matching leather jackets, slicked back hair, they even had gun holsters around their waist. Blu had no clue who they were, but he felt a shiver down his spine as the gun clanked by their side.

These boys looked much older than the two teens. Smoke whisked through the groggy night air out of cigars. The group smelled of something almost… sweet.

"U-uhhhmmm... nice to meet you," Blu stuttered. One dude was glaring at him through his sunglasses. He towered over him at nearly two feet.

"This need is your boyfriend?" The tall person said all while kicking pebbles against the concrete walls. 

"Yeah, is there a problem?" Pico lifted his eyebrow.

"There is. We don't tolerate dweebs at our parties. Tell you what, since I like ya i'll be givin' ya a simple test. Throw this kid to the ground and you're in the gang," the stranger growled bluntly. His voice was ragged, no doubt from smoking. Before Blu could say that Pico would never do that to him, he was forcefully shoved to the ground. 

Blu felt the back of his head smash against the ground. 

"Aaaug!" He gasped and clenched his teeth. He instantly felt light-headed and disoriented. His vision was blurred. He got on his knees, feeling queasy. 

Once the blurriness subsided a bit, he heard fits of laughter erupt from over him. His ears started to ring. Pico passed him an apologetic look and mouthed the words 'sorry!' Blu was stunned, paralyzed to the rocky ground.

"Atta boy!" The tall guy shouted and ruffled Pico's newly slicked back hair. Blu regained his strength and got to his feet.
"W-why?" Blu said, holding back tears. He felt betrayed. Pico was his friend... how could he? And to get into a gang? What was going through that ginger's mind?

"I'm sorry, Blu, they offered me some good dough if I worked with them, and I need the cash. You understand, right? I promise not to hurt you again!" Pico whispered. Blu suddenly felt enraged and slapped Pico in the face with all his might, feeling as if a rocket was attached to his fist.

Pico's slim body crashed against the wall, banging against it with a sickening sound. The teen crumpled to the ground, fainting. Startled screams echoed through the corridor as people came to investigate the commotion.

Blu grabbed his book and darted out of the crowd. He anonymously tipped 911 and called a taxi down the street, not feeling well. 

Small beads of thick tears slid down his rosy cheeks. He felt nothing in that moment except disbelief. 

He lifted his hand to scratch his head and felt sharp stabs of pain the moment he made contact with his scallop. His body was shaking as he held his head under a streetlight. 

His pale hand was covered with warm red liquid. His ride pulled up, and Blu requested to be driven to a hospital instead of his parent's house.

***

The next morning Pico texted him an apology. He admitted that he was a huge douche and completely deserved to be knocked out. He decided not to rat out Blu to the police for the assault. It was one thing he could do to apologize.

"I'm sorry, man." Blu sobbed to himself and tried to ignore his boiling emotions while reading the text. "Hang out with the wrong kind of people and hurt me just for what was probably some petty blood money? Bullshit!

He had one thing going for himself. His parents were moving to a new city so they could have better jobs. Blu hadn't yet told Pico, afraid to break his heart. But now...

Blu felt his nimble fingers glide across the keyboard on his phone as he wrote out his message.

***Four years later***

Sitting on a metal box in an alleyway, his trigger finger started itching. He was talking on his phone with a client. A description and destination of his new target was given to him. The request made the ginger smile.

"Eliminate the cyan-haired young man that has lovey-dovey eyes for my daughter, he should be with her rapping on the rooftop of an office building next to the city pub. Dispose of him, and I'll reward you greatly." A deep voice grumbled from the other side. "I've heard impressive feats that your gang has accomplished, and that you are their number one mercenary. I expect a clean kill and a quick getaway from you. Do not involve me or my family, you hear?" 

"Yup, got it. I'll go now, heh." He hung up as he finished a cigarette and tossed it to the side. His tongue played with the gap in his teeth and fiddling with the cassette tape in his pocket, a habit of his that happened every time he got worked up. He had been waiting for a chance to see him again…