Danti One Shots

·The Little Drummer Boy· (Pt. One)

Thank you Pridedafox1 for the idea! Don't worry, it gets angsty later on ;)

It started with him. The drummer boy. He was little too, lithe frame, skinny, small bit of stubble on his chin.

"A common delinquent that didn't belong here." Those exact words qouted from my mother's mouth. We were a small Christian town. Small enough to only have one grocery store and a library the size of a shoebox. The adults lives revolved around the church, and the kid's lives revolved around the adults and the school.

But that changed when the drummer boy came to town. I was dressed in my Sunday best when I saw him. He wore tight black jeans with plaid sewn into them. Acid green hair done up in liberty spikes. A denim jacket with so many patches, buttons, and pins, I don't think I'd be able to count them if I tried. He had makeup too. My mother would slap me silly if I ever attempted to even wear lip gloss. He was sexy. Fuck, was he ever, standing the way he was.

He was leaned up against the church, caught my eyes and winked at me. Fucking winked. My mother caught me staring, sent him a scowl, and roughly pushed me into the church. My older brother gave him a side-eyed sneer. Seemed like all the men in town did. Children just stared. Women gasped. The pastor turned his nose up at him when he walked in after us.

I looked on at their interaction from my place in one of the pews. He turned those electric blue eyes on me and smirked.

"What are you doing here, young... Man?" The pastor said 'man' as if he weren't sure that was what the drummer boy was.

"Well I'm just here to learn a little bit about our Lord and Savior! Isn't that what we're all here for?"

I wasn't expecting the Irish accent.

The whole church was silent and listening to them. The pastor took out his hankercheif to dab his forhead. "We worship here. Learning about the Lord is for bible study, and Sunday school. Both of which I doubt you have ever attended."

"Of course I have," the drummer boy shot back. "In fact I used to dress like him right there when I was a wee lad!" He shot his finger over to a small boy. His mother covered the boys ears with a gasp.

"But moved since then. Decided to come back to church. Can I come in now?" The pastor grimaced and stepped aside. The drummer boy sat in the pew behind me. I forced myself to turn forwards and suck in a much needed breath.

Service went as it always had, added with the drummer boy scoffing here and there. I lost his green head in the crowd after service. As I walked out the door the pastor gripped my hand tightly when I shook it. We always shook his hand on our way out. "Don't go near that boy, son. He's a bad influence. Wouldn't doubt if he praised the devil." I nervously nodded my head and muttered a quick 'will do' just so he would let go of me.

As soon as he did I ran out the doors and went to the back of the church to sit on the small playground. They used the playground for the daycare and preschool the church had.

It was so hot. I had to get out of there. I was getting lightheaded. After a few minutes my mother called out my name worridly. I waved to her and stood up, taking off my tie. It felt like it was choking me.

Then a twig snapped behind me. Turning to see the drummer boy twirling a knife in his hands, I bolted. Jumping into the car and slamming into my brother as I did so. My mother turned to look at me from the passenger seat and glanced at my neck. "Where's your tie?" My father started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

I shrugged, still trying to catch my breath.

"That was an expensive tie! Clark!"

"What?" My father sounded annoyed.