A/N: I am extremely happy with the way this came out. I've been dying to write these two a one-shot since halfway through POC. And now I have! I know some people don't like Sunny, and I can sorta kinda see why, but I love love love him and David together. They didn't get nearly enough face-time for my liking in POC, which is one of the reasons why I did this. But this is the last thing I'll write for that story-world. I have to create some new ones now, which unfortunately won't show up on here until after the New Year's. I promise, though, they'll be grand.
Thanks so much to all my readers! You all mean so much to me!
God, he's hot.
Smirking, I pull my sunglasses down a bit so I can watch him stalk across the parking lot without anything obstructing my view. He walks like he owns the place, with his chin tilted up slightly, a regal expression on his face, and his eyes fastened on me. Even the way he runs a hand through his hair and tosses it over his shoulder is sexy. And the best part about it is, is that he doesn't even realize he looks that way. He doesn't do it on purpose; he's just like that naturally—poised and a bit arrogant. Whenever someone compliments him, though, he turns into this meek, blushing shy thing. When I first met him, I thought it was false modesty, but it's not. His personality just likes to contradict itself. I like to tease him about being bipolar, though that usually makes him angry with me, depending on whether or not he's in a good mood.
At the moment, I'd say he's in a good mood, but one can never be sure with Sunny.
"Hey," I say once he's standing in front of where I'm resting against the side of my car. I lean over to kiss him on the cheek, making him blush and bite his lip. I smirk. Yup. He's definitely got a bipolar personality.
I love it.
"Hi," he says back. Then his eyebrows come together and he gives me a questioning look. "What're you doing here?"
"Thought you might want to go to the mall," I tell him. I raise my eyebrows. "Sound good?"
Sunny beams at me and nods. "Yeah."
I smile back then stand up straight to get into my car, watching him walk over to the other side. Just as I open the car door, a group of kids walk by, laughing, and I can't help but glance at them. They're all baseball players in their uniforms, heading up to the field with their equipment. I spend a second looking at them, then turn away when I see that none of them are even remotely as attractive as Sunny. I knew they wouldn't be, but it's just something I can't help doing since it reinforces the fact that I'm with one of the hottest guys around. It makes me feel smug, and I like that feeling a lot.
Of course, it also makes Sunny glare at me, like he's doing now. Mentally, I curse myself as I give him an apologetic look, but that doesn't help. He just narrows his eyes at me, a scowl forming on his lips, and I give an exasperated sigh.
"Please don't," I say.
Sunny sneers. "You're the one who has wandering eyes."
"But it doesn't mean anything!" I exclaim. "I just looked!"
"Well, don't," he snaps, barring his teeth in what I would mistake as a smile if I didn't know better. Then, he slams my car door and turns away, stalking off across the parking lot.
Growling under my breath, I slam my car door shut, too, and go after him.
Really, this happens at least twice a week—him storming off because he thinks I was checking out another guy. It makes me wonder sometimes what we're doing together. I love him and I know he loves me, but it bothers me how we can barely go a day without getting into an argument or fight.
And it's been this way ever since we met two years ago.
* * *
I was in the kitchen, making myself a sandwich, when I heard the front door open. Immediately, voices and laughter trailed up the hall—one my sister's; the other one I didn't recognize, but knew had to one of her friends. I scowled, abandoning my food to go make her and whoever was with her go back to wherever they'd been for the past few hours so I didn't have to listen to them. It was Saturday and I didn't want to be harassed by two stupid, annoying freshmen. My sister was bad enough by herself.
Their voices were coming from the living room now, so that was where I made for. When I entered the room, I saw that Hailey and her friend were both facing away from me. I took a moment to look over the girl, trying to remember if I'd met her before, but no, I hadn't. I would have recognized the long, dark brown hair that went to the middle of her back, or the tomboy way she dressed. I eyed her clothes—a grey woven shirt with the sleeves pushed up the elbows and a pinstriped vest over it, and a pair of loose levis that were still tight enough to show off her ass—and couldn't help but appreciated her taste. And even though she was a girl, I found myself admiring her backside, too, which was weird since I was—am—a hundred percent gay.
Then I saw that my sister had taken my pet iguana out of his cage and was now holding it out to her friend, who backed away from it, shaking her head. I scowled.
"Hailey! What the hell are you doing?" I snapped at her, making both the girls jump. "Put Edgar back!"
She turned to me with a glare. "I was just showing him to—"
"I don't care!" I told her, going over there and taking Edgar away from her. As I put him back in his cage, I sent her another scowl. "I told you not to touch him."
"It's not like I was hurting him," she said indignantly.
"Whatever," I retorted. "Just take your friend up to your room and stay there. I'm really not in the mood to put up with two girls—"
"Excuse me?" said a voice from behind me that definitely wasn't female. "I am not a girl."
I whipped my head around to face the owner of that voice only to end up gaping when I found myself looking into a very male face of a very pissed off boy. He had bright yellow eyes that were currently narrowed and glaring daggers at me, and his skin was as flawless and pale as porcelain. Now my admiring his ass made much more sense, because this boy was hot. I smirked, letting my eyes roam over him appraisingly, which made his eyes narrow further and a pink blush tint his cheek, whether from anger or modesty, I couldn't tell.
"Sorry. My bad," I said, not meaning it in the slightest. "But it would't've happened if your hair wasn't so long. If you don't want to be mistaken as a girl, you might want to think about getting it cut."
The boy laughed sarcastically then gave me a flat look, saying, "Yeah. That's not gonna happen."
"Suit yourself then…?" I raised my eyebrows at him, silently asking for his name.
"Sunny," he said.
"Sunny?" I snorted "What kind of name is that?" Never mind that I thought it was actually pretty cool.
He shrugged. "At least I don't look like I belong in a boy band."
I narrowed my eyes and he smirked at me before brushing past me to follow my sister out of the living room. Turning around so I could glare after him, I couldn't help but notice how much nicer his butt looked in his jeans when he was walking away. Soon, I realized I was no longer glaring at him, but just staring, checking him out. From the way Sunny paused before he turned into the hallway and glanced over his shoulder at me with a smug smile, he knew I'd been doing that, too. I scowled at him, now almost positive he'd been walking like that on purpose. His smile turned into a grin and then he disappeared around the corner. For a moment, I just stood there, glowering, because hot or not, he had annoyed me.
But I'm not going to lie: by the time I went back out into the kitchen, I was once again thinking about how good he looked, and smirking when I pictured him walking.
And for the rest of the day, whenever we were in the same room together, we alternated between insulting each other and checking each other out. It didn't end that day, either; we kept it up for almost seven months before we finally got together.
* * *
"Sunny! Sunny!" I call after him, but he just ignores me and keeps walking. I curse then start to jog to catch up to him and eventually pass him so I'm standing in his way, about five feet in front of him. He stops, glaring at me, and I stare right back at him.
"You're being ridiculous," I tell him.
"No! I'm not!" he shouts, standing up straighter and lifting his chin. I can't help but shiver. The angrier he gets, the haughtier he becomes, the more beautiful I think he is. "I think I have a right to be mad when my boyfriend checks out other guys right in front of me!"
"Oh, my god—how many times do I have to tell you!?" I throw my hands up in exasperation. "I'm not checking them out! I'm just looking!"
"Same damn thing!" Sunny says. His voice is low and his eyes are lit up with, intense with his irritation at me, jealousy, and just the thrill I know he gets when he's arguing with me. That's part of the reason we fight with each other so often—we both enjoy it too much.
"No, it's not," I tell him. "If I was checking them out, then that would mean I was interested, which I'm not." I take a step closer to him, ignoring the wave of desire that envelops me when I see his eyes flash dangerously. Lowering my voice, knowing that normally that tone calms him down, I continue, "I look because I can't help it. When you see a hot guy walking past you, don't you look?"
"No," says Sunny stubbornly.
I snort. "Sunny, I knew you were many things, but I never thought you were a liar until now."
The only warning I get is him narrowing his eyes and scowling deeply before I have to duck to keep myself from being hit with the water bottle he just threw at me. Then, as I stare at him incredulously, he walks past me, his shoulder shoving into mine and his hair whipping me in the face.
Okay. It's not unusual for us to be arguing, since that's what we do. Yeah, I may have gone a bit too far with that last statement of mine, and yeah, I should have remembered that even though Sunny may look like an angel, he's anything but angelic. Still though…that wasn't cool.
Knowing exactly where this could end up if I don't stop it now, I turn around and start after him again, because despite how high maintenance he is, he's definitely worth all the effort and trouble he causes and will cause me.
And that's a fact I knew the moment I first kissed him.
* * *
Regardless of how much I wanted to deny it, I couldn't any longer because it was obvious.
Whenever my sister started talking about him, I'd stop whatever I was doing to listen with too much curiosity and interest about him. I daydreamed about him and looked for him in the halls in-between classes. Every time he came over to my house—which was both too often and not often enough—I found myself making up excuses to be in the same room with him, even if they were just to myself and horribly lame. I picked on him, argued with him, and then stared at him when he wasn't looking.
Which was exactly what I was doing now.
He didn't notice me since he was too busy sitting in front of the sofa, bent of a notebook, scribbling furiously. I watched from where I was half-concealed in the entranceway, fascinated by the way a piece of hair would fall into his face and he would tuck it behind his ears unconsciously, and the way he would write something, blink at it, frown, cross it out, and then begin it again. From what I'd heard from Hailey, I knew he was writing poetry. I tried to tell myself that that was stupid and girly, so I shouldn't be curious and want to read his poems, but it didn't work. Same did trying to convince myself that he was too annoying for me to have a crush on him.
Damn it! Damn him!
Needing to distract myself from my thoughts, I strode into the living room, over to Sunny, and plucked his notebook away from him before he even realized I was there. I knew it probably wasn't the best way to distract myself, but for the moment I was going to ignore that reality as much as I possibly could.
"Wha—?" Sunny blinked at the empty space in front of him where his notebook had been before scowling, turning towards me. I grinned at him.
"Hello Sunshine," I said cheerfully.
Just like he always did when I called him that, he flushed, but kept on glaring at me. A warm sensation pooled in my stomach and then spread throughout my body, just like it always did when he gave me that look.
"Give it back," he said, his voice a growl. That caused goosebumps to erupt all over my skin, but I refused to let him know that. I pretended to look thoughtful for a moment before I shook my head, giving him a mock apologetic smile.
"Nope. I don't think I will," I told him. Then, I smirked. "At least not until after I read it." Sunny continued to glare at me as he got to his feet, but I just went on smirking at him as flipped through his notebook, laughing and dancing backwards when he tried to swipe it away.
And then a page caught my attention and my smirked widened.
"Aw, a love poem. How sweet!" I said teasingly. Then I looked up at him with raised eyebrows. "But why no title? Or is that what the hearts you drew all over the page are for?"
Sunny's eyes widened, a panicked look entering them that I found more fascinating than I should've. "Give it back, David!" he demanded. I laughed, holding it out of his reach when he tried to grab it. When he did it again, I turned around so I could shield it from him and read it at the same time. I looked over my shoulder at him with a grin.
"How 'bout I help you come up with one?"
"No!" Sunny exclaimed, trying to reach around me to get it. I tried not to shiver whenever his hands brushed over my arms or his chest was pressed against my side, though I couldn't help the smile on my face.
"And why not?" I asked with a questioning look. "Afraid that I'll make fun of you because it's so horrible?"
"Yes!" he snapped, no longing trying to get his notebook away from me. He stared at me steadily, and I had to remind myself several times to not loose myself in them. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of, even though it isn't horrible!"
I grinned. "Well, then. There's no reason for you to be afraid now, is there?" Before he could answer or protest any further, I turned away from him and began reading the poem.
What I would give just to catch your eye.
How much I want just a second of your time
Not wasted with foolish words,
Spit out of our mouths with intent to hurt
We act like children on the playground.
I pretend I don't want my arms around
Your waist so I can hold you tight.
And I tell myself I won't dream of you tonight.
Whenever you laugh, it's hard not to grin.
Even with my patience wearing thin
With every frustrating thing you do
Almost all my thoughts revolve around you.
When I was done, I told myself it was my own fault that I was feeling an enormous amount of jealousy since I was the one who'd wanted to read it when I had known it was a love poem. That didn't really help much to diminish it, though, so I hid it as best as I could by snorting and shoving the notebook back at Sunny.
"Good luck with that," I said, walking out of the living room. I needed to get out of there before I did something stupid. Like demand who he'd written that poem about in a way that would surely tell him about my ridiculous crush on him. (It wasn't until after he'd gone home, that I found the poem in my pocket and realized it was about me.)
Before I could get halfway across the room, though, a hand grabbed my bicep to stop me, and then Sunny was in front of me, glaring. I cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Why are you such a prick?" he asked.
I blinked in surprised, and then narrowed my eyes at him. "Why are you so annoying?" I shot back.
"Excuse me?" He gave me a dark look. "You're the one who came out here and took my notebook! When I didn't do anything to you!"
"Not today," I told him. I paused thoughtfully and then said, "And you really don't have to do anything to annoy me. Your presence is enough."
"God, you so—ugh!" he exclaimed, shoving me in the shoulders so I stumbled back a step. "You're so frustrating! I can't stand you half the freakin' time!"
"Only half, huh?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking. Even now, when I knew I should, I couldn't stop teasing him. "Interesting. What do you feel about me the rest of the time?"
Sunny gave a frustrated huff, running his hands violently through his long hair. "And that's why! You're so frickin' full of yourself!"
"And you aren't?" I demanded, taking a step towards him and glaring. "You've got more arrogance than I do!"
"I don't not!" he hissed.
"Oh, give me a break," I told him. "Whenever I see you, you're strutting around with a goddamn chip the size of Canada on your shoulder!" I moved so there was barely an inch between us and leaned down so I was eye level with him. "And I don't care how hot you are, Sunshine, it still pisses me off!"
And turns me on.
"Well, at least I have a reason to be conceited!" Sunny snapped. "What's your excuse?" He gave me a taunting look, and even though we both knew that I was just as attractive as he was, I flushed since he'd done that so perfectly I couldn't help it. Smirking triumphantly, Sunny began to turn away from me.
And I don't know if it was because I was just so frustrated with him, the fact that I was fed up about how I felt the need to tease him like I was in elementary school again because I had a crush on him, or because he was just so irresistible when he was like this, that I grabbed his arm to stop him. Ignoring his questioning glare, I turned him back around and then smashed my mouth against his hard enough for me to cut the inside of my lips on my teeth.
Sunny gave a small surprised gasp, his lips parting, but didn't pull away. I took the opportunity to slip my tongue into his mouth, feeling more than content when he started kissing me back, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. With a greedy growl, I pulled him closer to me, running my tongue along his teeth and palate as the fingers of one of my hands feathered along his jaw. Happiness and warmth, along with a bit of smugness, settled in my stomach and chest when he made a helpless, but pleased little noise in the back of his throat. My other hand found its way into his hair then, and it was every bit as silky, smooth and thick as I had imagined it.
After giving one last lick to the roof of his mouth, I pulled away. Sunny blinked for a moment, daze, before his eyes focused on mine. Immediately, an attractive blush was on his cheeks and he looked down at the floor shyly, avoiding my gaze and biting his lip. I smiled, chuckling a bit, and put two fingers under his chin to tilt it back up. When he was looking at me again, I raised an eyebrow.
"Well, Sunshine? Can that be my excuse?"
He rolled his eyes and turned his head to the side, but I saw the smile that he couldn't manage to hide on his lips. And then there was the fact that he had his arms around me still with mine around him and he wasn't trying to break free. Laughing, I turned his head back towards me and kissed him again.
* * *
We were together for three months before we got into a fight that made us break up. Both of us were rather flirtatious people that were extremely possessive when it came to the other, and it got us into a wonderful argument. It wasn't any worse than the fights we have now, but it was the first, and we weren't prepared for it. Obviously, we got back together, though in the two months that that took to happen, Sunny developed a crush on someone else and started going to a different school. Despite the fact that crush dissolved into nothing and we got back together soon afterwards, I'm still slightly bitter about—not at Mitchell, of course; just that it happened at all.
It's been over a year since then. Sunny and I still argue and fight like there's no tomorrow. Sometimes he'll piss me off so much that I won't go after him when he stalks off, like I normally do, and we won't talk to for days. In the end, we always get over it, though, and move on until the next fight happens. Even with all them we have, I know that there isn't a chance that we'd break up like that first time since it's usually an argument we've already had before.
This worries me since, despite how angry Sunny has gotten at me in the past, he's never actually thrown anything at me before. Does that mean he's finally gotten fed up with me? This wasn't nearly as bad as some of the other fights we've had, but could it have been the breaking point for him? For us?
God, I hope not.
By the time I catch up to him, Sunny's a block away from the school. Almost panting with the sprinting I did, I once again place myself directly in his path. All he does is take one contemptuous glance at me before he rolls his eyes and turns around in the opposite direction. My heart clenches as he takes a step away.
"Sunny, wait," I say, completely aware that I'm almost begging. "I'm sorry."
Without even acknowledging that he heard me—which hurts more than him saying anything would've—he keeps walking away. And because I'm scared that I might be losing him permanently, I don't even care when a desperate sound escapes my throat.
He stops, and I exhale in relief since I wasn't completely sure he would. Quickly, before he can change his mind, I make my way over to him. As I near him, Sunny turns around to face me. When I met his eyes, I see hurt instead of anger in the bright yellow. I reach out for him without even thinking about it and draw him close to me, hiding my face in his hair and smiling when he embraces me back.
"I'm sorry," I tell him again, whispering. "I shouldn't've said that. I didn't mean it." He hugs me tighter and, knowing that's his way of telling me I'm forgiven, I press a kiss to his temple. Then, because I'm me and he needs to understand this so it doesn't happen anymore, I say, "But you really need to stop accusing me of checking out other guys. It really means absolutely nothing when I do that."
"Then why do it?" Sunny asks. He lifts his head from my shoulder and stares at me steadily in the eyes. There's no anger in them, but there is a hard edge to them that tells me if I don't answer him carefully, there could be.
"Because I can't help it," I say. He narrows his eyes, but I plow on before he can get mad, "It's like having a really nice car. You're still going to look at everyone else's, even though you know yours is the best out of all of them."
Sunny gives me a bland look. "You did not just compare me to a car."
"Sunny!" I groan, dropping my head onto his shoulder. "I'm trying to explain this to you the best I can!"
"Try harder," he says.
"It's like…" I pause, trying to come up with the right words. "I don't look at other guys because I expect them to be better looking than you. I look because I know you're always going to be a hundred more times attractive than they'll ever be." I look up at him wistfully. "Sunny, I don't want to be with anyone else—I just want to be with you. Just because I can't make myself go blind every time another guy walks by that might be good-looking, doesn't mean that I love you any less."
"I can't help that I get jealous," he says, lifting his chin up and sniffing in that haughty way I love so much. Smiling, I lean forward and peck him on the lips. The corners of Sunny's lips tilt up, but he doesn't smile fully. I check a sigh.
"I know," I tell him, "because I know that I feel the same way when you look at another guy"—He opens his mouth to protest, but I keep talking like I don't notice—"or when some other guy looks at you. But you got to stop getting so angry with me about it. If you promise me that, I promise that I'll do my best to keep my eyes solely on you from now on."
Finally, a smile spreads across Sunny's face, as well as a light blush. "I promise," he says quietly.
"Good." I lean forward to kiss him again then rest my forehead against his. "Love you, Sunshine."
"Love you, too, David," Sunny says.
And as I watch him bite his lip, his flush deepening and his smile widening, I decide that despite how much I love an angry and arrogant Sunny, I love the shy and adorable one just as much. Maybe even more.