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Darry didn’t think he loved many things. Call him cold hearted, but it was the truth.
He loved his family, his brothers and parents. He loved the gang, even as much of an asshole they were. He loved football, mainly because it was good for stress and kept him in shape.
He also loved his halfback. Darry would be lying if he said he didn’t hate the socs, but lord did he love that boy.
Because of football, Darry ended up running through the same circles as many socs. They half forgot he was a greaser because of how good at the game he was. Socs would clap their hands on his shoulder and shake him around when he made a smart ass comment.
He didn’t view Paul as a soc, and he was sure that Paul hadn’t viewed him as a greaser. When they were together, the two of them were just Darry and Paul.
The two of them had gotten together in Junior year of high school. Even before that, there was some kind of tension between them, a longing. It only took a half hour in the locker room after they won the homecoming game for them to realize it. They hadn’t talked much after it happened, until Paul invited Darry over for dinner at his house. Darry had been nervous and his palms were all sweaty. He had never been invited over to a soc’s place. Sure sometimes a soc would give him an off handed, last thought invite to a team party at the river bottom, but Darry would always politely refuse.
And so Darry went over to Paul’s house that night and they finally talked again. They agreed that they both had mutual feelings that they didn’t want what happened to be a one off thing. So they ate dinner and Darry made sure that Paul’s parents thought good of him, and they retired to Paul’s room and Darry spent the night.
Their relationship was a secret, Darry knew if anyone found out they’d be toast. He knew he wouldn’t go too far in life, but Paul could, and something like that may ruin his chances. They disguised their dates as simple hangouts, and no one questioned anything. Darry would always make Paul some chocolate cake, he didn’t know how else to show his affection. Paul had stopped having big reactions to the cake after two months.
In their senior year, Darry started working more shifts. His family needed all the help they could get. This meant that Darry and Paul didn’t get to see each other as often. There were no more sleepovers at Paul’s or hanging out around the nicer neighborhoods, instead Paul had to find Darry during his off time and hang out near Curtis house since Darry was normally too tired to go far. Sure they saw each other at school and during football, but they didn’t have that alone time.
That meant Paul started to get to know Darry’s family. Paul was an only child, so Darry’s having two kid brothers was new to him. Paul didn’t hang around the gang, Darry made sure of that. He had started being friendly with Sodapop though, and Darry couldn’t contain his smile when he heard Paul call Soda ‘Pepsi-Cola’ without Soda telling him to shove something up his “filthy soc ass.” That didn’t mean Soda or Ponyboy liked Paul, but the tolerance was enough for Darry.
There wasn’t any real issues until Two-Bit came over to the Curtis house with a black eye, a cigarette burn, and lord knows how many other injuries.
“The hell happened to you?” Darry had asked from the kitchen.
“Your goddamn boyfriend that’s what,” Two-Bit had said with an edge in his voice.
Darry had almost yelped. His boyfriend? Did Two-Bit know?
“What?” Darry had asked dumbly.
“Your buddy on the football team that’s always visiting you. A gang of socs he was leading jumped me. Burnt me with my own damn kools,” Two-Bit continued on with his tale of how the socs had jumped him and how he fought them off with his switchblade.
Darry had stopped listening. He heard what he needed. Two-Bit didn’t actually know, he was just making a joke at Paul’s expense. He had also heard that Paul had jumped one of his friends. Darry made sure to bring it up the next time he saw Paul.
“I heard some of your buddies jumped Two-Bit.”
Paul laughed, “Who the hell has a dumbass name like that.”
“His name’s Keith Matthews, he’s my buddy.” Darry looked straight into Paul’s lovely eyes, “And he said you and your buddies jumped him.”
Paul’s laughing ceased and Darry could tell that his cold stare was affecting him.
“Dar,” Paul started, “You know I never would have if I knew you guys knew each other.”
Darry felt angry for a minute, but then he felt sad. He couldn’t be mad at Paul, he loved him. He had wrapped his arm around Paul’s shoulder and did his best to talk to him.
“I… I ain’t mad Paul, it’s just… you can’t be doing that. Not to any greasers. Because you get in trouble with one of my guys, I have to back him up.”
Paul's face then twisted in rage.
“Are you serious? I’m your boyfriend, are you saying that if any greaser trash told you to fight me you would?”
Darry didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to. Paul had a reason to be upset, Darry didn’t want to invalidate him. So he took a breath and removed his arm. He muttered goodbye and went home. That was the first fight of any kind that they had. Darry didn’t know how to fix what had happened.
Paul didn’t come around the house the entirety of the week. Darry didn’t know what to do about it. So he asked his dad.
“Well… say if you and your girl are fighting, who’s fault was it?”
Darry’s shoulders tensed up at the mention of a girl, “I dunno… mine probably.” He didn’t really know if it was his fault, but if Paul thought that was what it was then that’s how he should go about things.
“Buy her some flowers and take her somewhere nice. You know that field over by the grocery store? Gets plenty a good view at night. Bring her some cake too, girls like gifts.”
“I think I’ve given her enough cake on the daily,” Darry muttered.
“Just take her out Friday night, I’ll call your job and tell them you’re sick. That sound good?”
Darry nodded and thanked his father. He was grateful that his dad hadn’t asked any more questions about who this supposed “girl” was.
He followed through with the plan, even the part about the cake. He found a small basket and filled it with sandwiches in plastic bags and a slice of cake tucked in a small plastic container. He wore all black, making sure that seeing him would be harder in the dark night. He didn’t want any socs seeing him and wrecking his plan. He found Paul’s house and scaled the tree that would make it possible for him to clamber onto the roof, then through Paul’s window.
When he made it onto the roof, he froze. He was right in front of Paul’s window, he had made this trek before. He got scared. What if Paul didn’t let him in? Or if he didn’t agree to go to the field? What if he broke up with Darry?
He paused in front of the window. His palms were sweaty again. He thought about climbing back down the tree and giving up. Just as he began making his way back to the tree, the window opened.
Paul was there and he was looking straight into Darry’s. Darry thought that he tried to say something, but even if he did, Paul grabbed his collar and pulled him into a kiss before anything could be said. It was a messy kiss. Even with them having been dating for a long time Darry wasn’t used to kissing. There was the clashing of teeth and more tongue than Darry liked, but he couldn’t deny that it was a good kiss. His hands trailed up to Paul’s face and tried to pull him even closer. When they broke the kiss, Darry made sure to put enough space between them so that he could actually talk.
“Paul, I’m real sorry. I wanted t-“
“Shut up and get in here, Darrel,” Paul cut him off.
Darry didn’t fight when Paul pulled him into his room and kissed him again. Paul was running his hands over Darry’s chest and Darry could feel his common sense melting away. In the heat of the moment, Darry dropped the basket, catching Paul’s attention for a moment.
“I brought you some cake.”
“You’ve given me enough cake for a lifetime, Dar.”
The rest of the night was a blur of kisses and hands. Darry fell asleep with Paul and didn’t wake up until Paul forced him to, scared that his parents would catch Darry there. It wasn’t late in the morning, maybe about five, but Paul was right with his concerns. Darry needed to get out of the West side before anyone saw him. He gave Paul a final kiss, a gentle one, and said goodbye.
They didn’t have any fights after that. Perhaps the main reason was because they ended up graduating in three months. Darry spent as much time with Paul as his schedule would allow. He broke the news to Paul that he couldn’t go to college, which was met with a pitiful look from Paul. He gave a simple “I’m sorry” and they went along with their day. On the day that Paul left for college, he stopped by the Curtis house. They didn’t get to kiss or say that they loved each other, there were people watching. So instead, Paul gave Darry one of his shirts. Darry could feel himself starting to tear up as Paul drove off. He didn’t cry, not until he got back to his room. He cried into the shirt until he ended up falling asleep. Everyone thought he was torn up about his best buddy moving on in life when he couldn’t. They were right, other than Paul being his “best buddy”. Paul would call the house a few times a month, and Darry would run to the phone and bask in Paul’s voice.
Paul would come down during the breaks, but he would hardly go to see Darry. He was always catching up with his soc buddies. They had more going on in life, they actually got into college. When he did happen to visit Darry, it was all physical. All kisses and roughness. There wasn’t anything sentimental about their meetings. Paul even laughed when he saw that Darry still wore his shirt.
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s just cute that you still have it. Looks good on you.”
That was how Paul’s first year of college went. He’d sometimes call, sometimes visit, sometimes he’d care about Darry. He stopped calling as much the second year. It wasn’t saying much, but it was noticeable to Darry at least. It just so happened, that the first time Paul had called him, it was after Darry’s parents had been killed in an accident.
“Hey Dar, sorry I missed your birthday. How’ve you been?”
Darry could barely talk. He was angry, sad, completely empty.
“They… my mama and daddy, they died yesterday. Wasn’t the best birthday,” Darry said.
Paul didn’t say anything for a long time, Darry almost thought he had hung up the phone.
“I’m so sorry Darrel.”
Paul continued giving him empty pitying apologies. That was the second time Darry had ever been really mad at Paul. Paul wasn’t comforting him, wasn’t offering any help or support, just saying the bare minimum. Darry hung up after giving Paul a small “bye”. Neither of them said “I love you.” And they never would again. Darry stopped wearing Paul’s shirt around the house. He didn’t even see or hear from Paul again for months.
He was working on a roof, he was trying to finish early so he could go shopping before it got too dark. Ponyboy and Sodapop would be home before him and he didn’t want them to be waiting too long. As he worked, he could have sworn he heard someone yelling. He didn’t pay it much mind, thinking it was probably just some greaser kids who were messing around. That was until he could see Ponyboy running towards the house as fast as he could go. Darry knew Ponyboy wouldn’t come to him if there wasn't something wrong. He went down the ladder as quick as possible and ran to meet Ponyboy.
“Darry! Darry! Socs! Steve ‘n Soda ‘n I were walking! They-!” The sound of more screams cut Ponyboy off.
Darry started running towards the sound before Ponyboy could finish. He knew those voices. The voices of people he loved. It was Sodapop and Steve. It was the screams of some socs. Paul included.
He could see a group of people just a bit more down the street. There were nicely dressed kids kicking, spitting, and punching on some kids. His kids. His kid brother and his friend.
His fists started flying before he realized who he grabbed. The rest of the socs broke apart from the group and ran off before Darry could get his hands on them. He dropped the soc and turned to Soda. Soda was red from a bloody nose and a busted lip. He was breathing in ragged gasps and was weakly reaching for Darry.
“Hey, hey, you’re fine Pepsi-Cola, you’re fine,” Darry ran a hand through his brother’s hair, Soda liked having his hair touched.
Soda had gotten the worse between him and Steve. Steve was able to pull himself up and managed to make it next to Soda.
“Steve, can you bring him home?” Darry asked.
“Yeah, man, I will. Ponyboy somewhere here?”
Darry nodded in the direction where he had come from. He was sure Ponyboy was on the way back. Darry wanted to go with them, he needed to make sure his brother was okay, but he needed to show this past soc a real lesson. Steve pulled Soda to his feet and they started towards the Curtis house.
When Darry turned to the soc, he realized which soc it was.
“Hello, Paul,” he said almost immediately.
“Darry… Dar,” Paul gasped.
“Don’t you fucking call me that!” He yelled.
He stomped towards Paul, scaring him enough for him to try and crawl back.
“You… you know that if I realized that was Pepsi-Cola-“
Darry brought his leg up and kicked Paul in the side. That was his nickname for Soda. Paul had hurt his kid brother, tried to hurt both of his kid brothers. Darry had to fight himself to not beat Paul into the ground.
“Get the hell out of here, soc scum.”
Paul’s eyes widened.
“Dar-“
“GET THE HELL OUT!”
Darry almost scared himself, he had never yelled that loud before. Paul scrambled to his feet and ran off in the direction his buddies had gone.
Darry went back to the house he was working on. He was almost finished anyway. He took maybe an hour at most to finish. He didn’t go to the store, he needed to check up on his brother. When he got home, Soda was still covered in blood.
“What ain’t you cleaned up?” He said, sounding much harsher than he meant to.
“Pony and Steve couldn’t find anything to clean it with,” Soda muttered.
Darry cursed under his breath and went to find a cloth to wash the blood off of Soda’s face. He sighed when he couldn’t find any washcloths. Looks like Pony and Steve really couldn’t find anything. Darry grabbed the first shirt he found in his room and went to the bathroom to get it wet. He didn’t realize what shirt he had grabbed until he was cleaning the blood off Soda’s face.
Paul’s shirt wasn’t worth anything anymore. It was fine if it got some blood on it.