Work Text:
Inside of Sodapop and Pony's shared bedroom at the Curtis' place, Johnny and Pony had been organizing countless amounts of books in mainly alphabetical order, then book color afterwards. It had been fairly nice that day, at least in terms of temperature, so the single window within the room had been opened slightly. Even though the two had aches in certain spots, such as their backs and wrists, they were making fairly decent progress on the organization. Given this was Pony's personal collection, he found his task to be enjoyable, especially with Johnny's help.
When only a couple books were left untouched, a knock sprang to the door. Pony suggested for the two of them to pause their work and answer the door. Johnny complied, following his friend to the door. A thought crept into Pony's mind as to who would have knocked, but no results came to mind. He then opened the front door, only to see Dallas behind it. Apart from Dally's greased, blonde hair, he wore something...odd, at least to Pony—he had been wear mostly black clothing, a large case was strapped on his back, and he wore a thick amount of eyeliner.
"Holy shit," Pony had thought aloud, flabbergasted at the sight. "Dally, what are you wearin' all that for?" Instantly, Dallas' face fell as he pushed himself inside towards the Curtis' couch and took a seat. Johnny and Pony were slowly following suit, the former muttering words of aspiration towards Dallas. Pony tried his best to keep his cool—what with Dally having practically barged inside the house and Johnny muttering words that Pony wasn't a fan of hearing.
"First, don't say those types of words," Dally growled in his thick New Yorker accent, shooting his head towards Pony. "Second, some ol' friends of mine made a band together, and we were gonna perform in a couple of hours. Just needed somewhere to crash, that's all." He then took the case off and opened it before showing off a sleek, black guitar. Johnny quickly clapped his hands, eyes shining with excitement, then jumped on the couch next to Dallas. Pony, however, stood idly, leaning against an armrest.
"Dally, that's so cool!" Johnny exclaimed. "Can you play somethin' right now? Only if you wanna..." Dally then chuckled and ruffled Johnny's hair, saying he'd do just that. He quickly tuned the guitar before setting himself up for a song. Once he started playing, Johnny was swaying to the music, and Pony was trying to figure out the song. It's not like he had much luck, however, because he didn't often listen to music, not even something as heavy as what Dally was playing then and there. Even if Pony wasn't too fond of Dally, he'd have to admit that he was playing something nice. Perhaps he and Johnny could go see Dallas' band perform, if their music was the same as this, that is.