PREVIOUSLY A SEPARATE ONESHOT

Summary: Felix - the rich, arrogant boy - annoys Mr Harriott a bit too much. PJ - the innocent, helpless boy - turns up late to class because of bullies. Can Felix see past PJ's hurt exterior? Can PJ see into Felix's kind heart?
was a oneshot for #september2k16
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Felix
"Felix Kjellberg! Please get off of – kEN GET OFF OF IT AS WELL!" Mr Harriott yelled in pure anger...again.

"Oh hell no, cooking man!" I shouted back, dancing on top of Dan Howell's desk. He slivered down his chair, looking at the blue-eyed boy next to him with fear pierced into his pupils. I laugh with Ken as we move to the beat of only our chuckles, not caring about any other worthless human around us. Jack, Mark and Cry giggle in the corner of the classroom, watching us risk everything to have some fun. Soon, the whole class are clapping and giving us a rhythm to sway our hips to. Mr Harriott mustn't have liked the reference to his past job, as his eyes widen in anger and screamed out in pure fury.

"EVERYBODY STOP!" he yelled, causing everyone to slow and quieten their claps until there was nothing more than inhales and exhales passing through people's ears in the room. He gestured me and Ken off the table and back to our seats. "Boys, I know school can be boring, but this is not the way to behave during class!"

"Geez, Ainsley, calm down." I joke, Mr Harriott tries to butt in, but I'm too quick. "We need a good balance of education and entertainment in school, and to say your classes are lacking entertainment...would be an understatement." A chorus of 'oooh!'s flowed through the classroom, alongside some 'RIP!'s and even a rare 'Savage!'. Mr Harriott grabs my arm tightly, stopping all the blood circulating around it, and stares me in the eye.

"You're such a stupid, arrogant, rude little rich boy, aren't you Felix?" he whispers, saying each adjective with disgust. I show him my Rolex Submariner and shrug, a smirk creeping up my face. "I bet you know what I'm going to say next, don't you?" I roll my eyes, chuckling half-heartedly. It's happened before anyway, it's not like anything different a going to happen. "DETENTION!"
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PJ
"Hey! It's Stinkguori!" Ricky Dillon shouted, nudging his friends to make my presence known. That was my one goal of secondary school: stay out of sight, stay out of mind. Well, you failed that one PJ.

Trevor Moran looked up from his phone and smirked, Troye Sivan followed in sync and pulled me into their circle of doom.

Who knew that out of everyone in the whole school, the singing trio would be the bullies? Most would think the jocks like Alfie and Joe would be annoying me the most, but they're the least of my worries. Not even the show-off drama students or the fantasy-orientated nerds would bat an eyelid when I walked past, which is the way I would have preferred to go through school.

All three of their noses scrunched up in repugnance, wafting away the dreaded body odour of mine. They do that every time.

"Do you not use soap?" Ricky began, "oh yeah, you can't even afford it!" they laughed, leaving me feeling insecure.

"I can afford it, but...but I..."

"You are so poor, you cannot even think of a retaliation!" Trevor cackled, his aristocratic tone of voice clearly present. "Have you not you even heard of urban dictionary?"

"Well, obviously you haven't, seeing as your posh butt - whoops I meant face, but who can tell the difference?" I took a breath, "can only talk smack while sounding like a Disney Princess!" the corridor cleared, but none of us really noticed.

Trevor looked at me, bringing his face closer to mine. So close, that I could feel him breathing in and out into my face, anger masking his smug expression.

"You know not to say that, Ligouri. I could buy you and your silly family three times, put you into slavery, pay you the minimum wage that you deserve, and still have leftover cash!" he whispered, before taking a blow to my eye with his bejewelled fist. I grabbed my face in agony, hearing their cackles taking them to their next class. How many rings does that boy have on his hand? I wondered, but that wasn't the least of my worries at this moment in time. I try to direct myself to the classroom door – which was luckily not too far from my current position.

Feeling the cold metal handle, I pushed open the door to see Mr Harriott staring right back at me. His hands were on his hips and a frown stretched across the bottom-half of his face.

"No excuses, PJ." He spoke before I could even open my lips, "I had high expectations for you in this class, but I guess you can't put money on any student." He sighed as I sat down next to Robert – probably the only person who cared about my wellbeing in this school – before Mr Harriott handed me a note, detention: today, after school in rm35.

"It'll be alright," Robert comforted, his Canadian accent giving me some sort of reassurance. "I know it will." If only people could be more like him.
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Third-Person
"Sooooo," the Swedish boy's voice dragged, swinging back and forth on the metal chair. "What do you want to do?"

"Sit here. Be bored. Wait 'til this is all over. Cry." PJ mumbled, his eye still throbbing in pain from his attack earlier in the day.

"Come on, can we at least play twenty questions until the teacher comes back?" He pleaded, his rich boy cries making PJ roll his eyes.

"Fine, my name's PJ and I don't give a damn."

"Ok, good start. My name's Felix Kjellberg and I have an obsession with ducks." The green-eyed boy stared at Felix, confused about his strange confession.

"Ducks? There's loads outside my house."

"Same, we feed them the leftover bread from dinner. I think it's kind but my sister-"

"Wait, leftovers?" Felix nodded in response, "that's a non-existent word in my house, we just eat what we can get our hands on." The rich boy gave him a shocked look, he'd never experienced poverty - nor would he ever want to - so hearing about it first hand was horrible.

"Gosh, is that the same with-"

"Soap? Clothes? Equipment? You don't know the half of it." PJ replied, before clearing his throat. "My dad earns very little in a corner shop, and my mum struggles to find a job and look after my younger brothers and sisters. I'm the oldest, and currently looking for a job."

"That must be hard, I don't have to look for one until I leave school." Felix was becoming really sympathetic for the poor boy he never noticed, and he realised that he should really care about others. Not every child has a CEO of a successful business as a father and lives in a good house with good money. Some people have it really hard, and one of those is PJ. "You know, I can bring you in some soap if you want, for your family. Maybe some spare clothes of mine as well?" He smiled, PJ had a tearful expression, one even slipping down his face at this very moment.

"R-R-Really?"

"Sure," he replied, PJ grabbing him for a hug and giving him a thankful kiss on the cheek. Realising what he just did, PJ gasped, but kept his hands wrapped around Felix's neck. He was already 'Stinkguori', he didn't need anything more.

"I-I'm so so sorry! That's how we say thank you at home a-a-and I know you have a girl-"

"No no, it's alright. I actually kind of enjoyed it." He leant towards PJ's ear and quietly whispered; "I think I want more, PJ Liguori."

The next few minutes were complete bliss for the boys, their lips touching and tongues tingling; PJ's back against the desk as they enjoyed the moment; Felix's fingers getting tangled in the rips of PJ's old shirt; their polar-opposite scents reacting in the air; and not once did they question why they were enjoying this so much. Who knew love could be so versatile?

Then, soon after, the clock struck 4pm, and the two boys walked out the door and into the corridor. Robert and Marzia - Felix's make-up addict of a girlfriend - were waiting impatiently outside the door, and were both surprised at PJ and Felix's interlocked hands.

"Umm Felix?" Marzia spoke, her Italian accent sounding very angry from her normal, happy self.

"Marzia, it's over." Felix smirked, walking away from the confused pair of third-wheels in shock. "I've changed, and you should as well."

"PJ?" Robert shouted, "I'm happy for you and all, but what about me getting home?"

"I don't know, walk?" He chuckled in response, passing through the double doors with his boyfriend, them both extremely joyful with each other now.

Money can buy you the world, but it cannot buy you happiness.