Work Text:
I woke up in a cold sweat. I'm more scared than usual, I'm glad I didn't wake up screaming, but I don't know why. I always scream at the scarier ones, even though I never know what scared me in the first place.
Soda was basically dead, lying here next to me not snoring, but close. I got out of the creeky bed as quietly as it allowed and mafe my way to the kitchen. I need water. And a cigarette.
I get a glass out of the cupboard. Just then I hear the door open quietly, as if not wanting to wake anyone up. I see Dally walk in. I notice how much I'm shaking and set the glass on the counter. I guess Dally hears because he walks right to me in the kitchen. He looked kind of . . . upset?
I guess I looked worse than I thought because his expression changed and he looked at me worryingly. He saw my hands shaking.
"You alright here, Pony?" he said in a soft voice, unusual for him.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, just gettin' water."
"Ok, but you sure? You've got bags under your eyes and you're shakin' somethin' awful." He looked at me quizzingly and I looked down. "Ya have another one of them nightmares?"
"Yeah," I whispered.
"C'mere." He slung an arm around my shoulders and led me to the couch where he was going to crash tonight. "Ya remember anything? At all?"
"No. Same old, same old: wake up feeling terrified, but don't know why." I sighed and rubbed my face. I tried to subtly fix my hair, no way in hell i was going to be seen with it so messed up, but I guess I wasn't subtle enough because Dally took notice.
"Ya don't have to look nice for me, ya know?"
"Yeah. But I don't like my hair lookin' so lousy."
Having physical comfort always calmed me down, Dally knew that, and I guess that was the only reason why he still had his arm around me and let me sightly lean onto him. I guess he was at Buck's a while ago, he smelled lightly of smoke and alchohol.
I sighed lightly and wondered why Dallas was being so nice and comforting. Did he do something wrong? He seemed to sense the look I was giving him: a look of suspicion and confusion.
"Look, kid, I didn't go and do nothing wrong, but I was thinking I could maybe talk a little? I heard you're a good listener."
"Yeah . . . I guess so."
He inhaled deeply and shakily exhaled. Was he on the verge of tears? I've never seen so much emotion in his eyes.
"You okay, Dal?" Honestly, I was expecting a mu h different reply.
"No . . . I'm not okay."
"Tell me. You know keep my mouth shut good. Actually, let's go sit outside." It was mid-June, it was a perfect night to sit out anyway.
We got out silently as we could and sat on the lawn chairs placed there earlier today that no one bothered to pack up.
"Say, what's buggin' you, Dally?"
"I don't know, man, and that's it. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm confused about how I feel and I just hate everything. I don't want to anymore, man, I'll kill myself or something." He nearly sobbed. I got worried, he never talked like this. But this is what happens when you never open up.
"No, Dal, you can't kill yourself!"
"But no one would even care, I'm just a hood. Look at me, look at my life! Nobody even likes me! What's even the point?"
"Dallas, don't talk like that. You've got the gang! All of us: me, Johnny, Soda, Two-Bit, Steve, and Darry! I-We like you." I meant we, and I said I. Wow. Luckily, it went by unnoticed, i thought.
"I don't know, man," he looked like he was actually about to start crying. "I just don't"
And he did. A single tear rolled down his cheek. I was nearly amazed. I wanted to hug him. Johnny knew I did, too.
"What about how you're feeling confused you? Tell me, ya know I won't judge. I'm gonna be here for you."
He looked at me. "Do you hate the gays?"
I was confused. "No, why?" Why did he care?
"That's why I'm feeling confused about my feelings. I . . . " he trailed off for a moment. "I think I like a guy."
My heart rate sped up. Could it be me? It couldn't. But I guess I have a better chance now. I felt like I should tell him that I do, too.
"Hey, Dally," I started, slowly, "It's alright that you do, y'know?" I couldn't meet his eyes. "I'd be a hypocrite to say otherwise." I could feel my ears starting to redden as Dally sat up straighter.
"You mean . . ." he trailed off. I knew what he meant.
"Yeah. That's what I mean." I needed to know who he liked. I guess I'd have to risk him knowing about me, too . . .
"You mind telling me who it is you're feeling for?" I asked.
"Maybe a bit . . ."
An idea dawned on me. "How's about this: we'll say it at the same time. On three?" I looled at him expectantly. Dammit, I thought, if he doesn't feel the same he might just up and leave, not looking back.
He seemed hesitant, but siged and nodded otherwise. "Alright."
"3 . . .
"2 . . .
"1."
"You," we said at the same time.
No way.
I looked at him with wide eyes. "Really? You do?" I asked, making sure i didn't mishear or something.
"Yeah, Pony. I do."
We continued to gaze into each other's eyes. I can't even describe how good i felt. His eyes, despite usually being cold and hard, were so . . . the opposite. Warm and soft. Ice blue, tiny specks of grey. They looked pretty in the moonlight.
He started leaning in, I did the same, the it happened. Boy, oh, boy, my first kiss.
"Wait, Dal," I said, before it got too deep. "Someone might see. Let's go back inside."
We did as so and sat on the couch, squished together despite all the room. We made sure not to forget it was still the ungodly hours of the morning. I yawned.
"You tired?" Dally asked.
"Yeah."
Dally moved to make me comfortable in his arms. He didn't care if the gang saw us, two of them already know anyway.
And with that, I closed my eyes, and fell into a world of peace.