Random Sanders Sides One Shots

Damien. Damien Jones.

Ships: Platonic Creativitwins. Deemus. Slight Logince at end.
TW: Angst. Crying. Bleeped cussing. Fighting. Suggestive joke. Just the usual Remus deal.
(Third Person POV)

"Why can't you be more like your brother?!"

"Because I'm not my brother!! I'm me and if you don't like that then why don't you just adopt me off?!" Remus shouted, tears in the corners of his eyes. His mother stood by the opposite end of the table, her face red from anger. Meanwhile, Roman watched in shock from the living room doorway. 

"Listen to your mother, Remus," their dad grunted, not looking up from his newspaper. Roman opened his mouth to say something, but was caught off by his mother.

"See? Roman's standing there quietly, not screaming or acting out. Why do you have to be so... messed up?" 

"Mom, stop," Roman said, looking up at her. She froze. "Remus is fine just the way he is. Leave him alone. Stop looping me into this and trying to make us hate each other."

"No, Ro. It's fine..." Remus said quietly, causing everyone to look at him. "I don't care. They're right. Whatever."

"Re, no-"

"Yeah. I'm going out for a bit. Text me if you need anything."

Remus turned and walked out, not waiting on anyone to respond. He shut the door harshly behind him and dashed down the road. After running for about five minutes, he stopped, leaning against a lamp-post. He sobbed quietly and sank down to the ground, burying his face in his knees. 

He'd lost track of how long it had been when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Looking up, he froze. A teen who seemed to be about his age was kneeling in front of him, tilting his head curiously. His blond hair fell in front of green eyes, and burn marks covered his arms, neck, and face. A yellow plaid shirt was wrapped around his waist, with a black, sleeveless band-tee, and black ripped skinny jeans. Brown ankle boots were newly cleaned, as well as a yellow beanie on top his head. 

"Are you alright?" he asked, fiddling with his finger-less gloves nervously. 

"Y-yeah... No..." Remus sighed and looked away. The boy sat next to him. 

"You've been sitting here for about thirty minutes. I was kinda concerned. My house is right there." He pointed at a large white brick house across the road. "That's not the point. What's wrong?"

Remus shrugged. "Nothing. I just had an argument with family a bit ago... Why do you care?"

"I don't like seeing people cry. Especially cute boys."

"Did you just... hit on me?"

"Sorry. I know you feel down and I don't even know if you like guys, but I just couldn't stop myself-"

"You're not too bad, yourself," Remus cut him off, smiling. "But you honestly wouldn't feel the same if you knew me."

The boy stopped and smiled, blushing softly. "I beg to differ. You seem nice."

"Less nice. More crazy."

"Who ever said crazy was bad?" He looked up and met the other's eyes. "... You cried for a while. Would you like some water or something?" 

"If it's not too much of a bother, that'd be nice."

"Of course it's not." He stood up and held out his hand, helping Remus up. Only then did he notice how small the unnamed boy was. "The name's Damien, by the way. Damien Jones."

Remus smiled. "Remus Prince."

Damien smiled more. "Remus... I like that name. Follow me."