The Outsiders Oneshots

Steve X Soda (1)

   Colors Of None

Triggers- Nah. Should be cute.

Note- I'm a trash can. Requests are open

~~~

   Steve sat on the cold, hard, black bench nearby the bus station. He wanted to go somewhere- anywhere really. He wanted to be as far away as possible from the small town he lived in and everything he knew. He wanted to live and be free, but he was born and raised here. Nobody he knew had ever left and nobody ever came here. If they did, they would live out the rest of their days and die here. It was the curse on his small town, but nobody but Steve seemed to mind.

   Maybe it was that he had so many bad memories here. It was bad to be different in small towns. You become an outcast, an outsider, to everyone. You see, the world is only black and white. Everything is black or white. There is no middle ground, there are no exceptions. Not until Steve came along. He was born grey, well he named the color. Nobody else had ever seen that before. He was cast out at a young age and never really fit in anywhere. It was hard living for 18 years and not having anyone. It felt so lonely and was very depressing. Sometimes Steve just felt hopeless.

   The people on the streets walked by, snuggled deeply into their thick sweaters and coats. Everybody was rushing around with their scarves wrapped around their necks and lower faces. Hands were stuffed in pockets and black breaths were billowing into the white air. Steve looked down at his black sweatshirt, pants, and black and white converse. His sweatshirt hood was covering his raven colored hair. He was hiding as much of his grey skin as he could. He wanted a way to hide his grey eyes, but there didn't seem to be anything for that. He didn't understand why he needed to hide himself, he'd grown up in this town and everybody knew him. He sighed and watched his grey breath leave him. A few people swerved around his small cloud of used air, as if he had a contagious disease.

   Steve wanted to scream at them, knock their lights out, or just glare at them. Instead, he slumped lower on the bench and lowered his face to the solid white ground. The sky was white too, which meant it was winter. Winter meant he was more frowned upon, since people could see even his breath was grey. He wasn't normal and that scared people more than his skin did.

   The black wheels of the bus came into Steve's line of sight. He watched as it drove over a spot with snow and stopped. The doors opened and Steve debated leaving. He always did this. He'd sit for hours on the bench and wait for the bus. When it would arrive, the door would open and he was left with the choice of leaving or staying. Steve always hesitated and shook his head at the bus driver. He looked at the driver's face. He looked inpatient, but he had to wait for people to get off. Steve wasn't going to go today. Maybe tomorrow.

   "What's wrong with him?" A voice to the right of Steve asked someone. Steve's hands were on the knees of his black jeans. Someone answered the person.

   "He's a freak. Always looked like that, he did." It was harsh, but true. Steve's gut lurched and he stood up. He felt tears tingle in his eyes. It was such bullshit that he was the abnormal one. He never asked to be like this. He never wanted to be an outsider in his own life.

   The bus door was open and the driver was looking at Steve expectantly. Steve dug in his pockets for money and climbed aboard. He gave the money to the driver, careful not to touch the man. People normally flinched when he did. He hated that more than the words that were thrown his way.

   Steve made his way down the isle and into the back of the bus. He wanted to be as far away from the door as possible. It would be easier for him to change his mind about leaving if he was too close to the door. The back was perfect. Especially if someone began to point or become uncomfortable around Steve, he could just go into the bathroom and wait until a stop he wanted to get off on appeared. But that didn't seem to be an issue on this bus.

   Steve got comfortable in his seat and watched as the bus started to drive away from the bench. It was but ten minutes until he was out of that damned town. They were in another town about the same as the one he just left. The only difference was this town seemed cleaner, but the buildings were basically the same. The endless sameness was sickening to Steve. The bus slowed and two people stood up. They were tightening their coats and preparing to walk down the steps and to the sidewalk.

   Steve, out of boredom, looked out of the window. There was a boy sitting on the bench twiddling his fingers in his lap. Steve looked down and shuffled his feet around. The people got off and Steve waited for the bus to move. It lurched forward for a few feet before shouting could be heard.

   "Wait! Sir, wait! Stop!" The exclamations caused Steve to look over the seat and towards the front. The teenage boy would had been sitting on the bench was boarding the bus headed to anywhere. He handed his money to the driver, who smiled and jabbed his thumb towards the seats behind him. The boy had white hair and white skin. He was dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans. His black and white converse poked out from beneath the long pants. Steve watched the boy try and find a seat.

   The boy breathed his warm breath on his bare hands to try and warm them up. A new color floated in the air for a few seconds before disappearing. Steve's eyes widened before he waved at the boy. The boy's eyes widened and Steve noticed they were the same unusual color as his breath. Steve's stomach lurched as the boy looked him up and down. The strange boy Steve had never seen before was looking at the grey skin that adorned him.

   "Do you want to sit?" Steve asked. The boy nodded and sat down right beside of Steve. Steve stared into the strange boy's eyes. It was such a pretty color and seemed to fit the boy perfectly. Unlike everyone else, Steve didn't find the boy strange. Steve saw a misunderstood kid who was an outcast. He saw a kid trying to find somewhere that he could fit in. He saw himself.

   "My name's Steve." Steve gave a small wave, he was unused to physical contact because of everyone's repulsion. The boy next to Steve smiled widely and waved back. He understood.

   "My name's Sodapop." Sodapop. It was a unique name for a unique person. Steve felt a smile tug at his lips. He let it overtake his normally neutral expression. He rarely smiled and never had a real reason to. But Soda seemed to be changing that.

   "Like the drink?" Steve asked while still smiling. The boy across from him smiled sweetly and nodded.

   "Like the drink." Soda wiggled around in his seat for a second. "What do you call your color?"

   "I call it grey. I thought it seemed to fit. What about yours?" Steve looked at the boy, waiting with baited breath. He wanted to know what his new friend had called his beautiful eyes and miraculous breath.

   "I call it blue." Soda relaxed against his seat and Steve did the same. It was a minute before they spoke. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence. It was quite the opposite really. It was probably the most comfortable the two had ever been in their lives. Soda turned his head towards his new friend.

   "Where are you headed?"

   "I'm going everywhere." Steve looked back at Soda with everything he'd ever wanted. He looked at him with unconditional love and complete acceptance. Soda smiled widely again, cause the grey breath to hitch in Steve's throat.

   "Me too."