Chapter Text
“What are you doing?” Soda lounged in the doorway, watching Darry put away the chicken they’d made for dinner.
His brother jumped a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nothin’. Just putin’ the leftovers away.”
For all his voice was steady he looked guiltier than Steve had that time mom had caught him stealing cookies back when she and dad were still alive and little things didn’t matter so much. Soda wasn’t sure what, but it was clear he was hiding something.
“That’s your chicken. Pony an’ I made sure to save you some.”
“I just ain’t all that hungry is all,” Darry shrugged, trying and failing to be nonchalant.
“Bullshit.” Darry was always hungry, they all were, teenage growth spurts and growing boys and all that jazz. “Are you gettin’ sick or something?”
He couldn't help the slight spike of panic that shot through him at the thought. Darry hadn’t been proper sick since before their parents had died, and Soda knew himself well enough to know he wasn’t any good at looking after sick people. That wasn’t really the issue though, they could figure that out, but he got a bit nervous himself whenever Darry looked any sort of vulnerable, and Pony went clean crazy. He didn’t even want to think of the headache he’d have to deal with if his big brother was getting sick. Trying to nurse Dar, and go to work, and try and talk Pony into talking would make for a very tough week indeed.
“I ain’t sick,” Darry told him, batting away his attempts to check for a fever. “I mean it Soda, I’m fine.”
“Then why ain’t you eating? And why are you actin’ like I caught you doing coke off the countertop? I swear you never looked so guilty in your life.”
“I ain’t.” Darry set his jaw stubbornly and went back to slicing the leftover chicken breast and wrapping it in plastic wrap.
“Yeah you are. C’mon superman, spill.”
Darry sighed, like talking to him was the biggest chore in the world.
“It’s track season,” was all he said, rubbing at his neck again. For a second he didn’t get it- then slowly, Soda felt himself grin.
“You big softie! You’re savin’ it for Pony, ain’t ya? So he’ll have his favourite before his big race.”
“The kid’s gotta eat,” Darry said simply, but Soda could see his cheeks flushing.
“There’s a bit of peanut butter in the cupboard. He could’ve had that.”
“Not when I’m about to finish it he couldn’t,” Darry said, putting the last of the chicken in the fridge and swiftly pulling the jar of peanut butter out of the cupboard, spreading it across a slice of bread. “Now don’t touch those leftovers and make sure Steve doesn’t either, savvy”
“Yeah, I savvy,” Soda grinned easily, following Darry into the living room, clicking the kitchen light off behind him.
Pony didn’t notice, and Darry would never admit it, but it was clear to anyone with eyes that Dar spoiled the kid rotten.
The next morning Pony let out a joyful whoop when he found the leftover chicken and hurriedly fixed himself a sandwich. For all he tried to hide it, Darry’s smile didn’t quite fit behind his newspaper.
Soda didn’t bother to hide his own grin as he ran out the door. His brothers were the strangest guys he’d ever met, but god did he love them.