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is it ever sweet

Summary:

Darry wondered if ‘rough’ was all Paul knew.

Darry is fine with the status of his relationship with Paul, even if Paul isn’t all that nice.

Notes:

based on an ask that @qprpbj on tumblr got! hope it’s ok i saw it and ran with it!

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Darry wondered if ‘rough’ was all Paul knew. It seemed like a greaser thing, but socs had an odd definition of right and wrong. Football was all Paul knew and all Paul had ever been allowed to know so Darry didn’t really think it was Paul’s fault. Besides, Darry was good at overlooking things and he was used to thinking harder than most people, especially socs. He was used to ignoring that voice in his head that thought too hard, it made things easier. And anyways, Paul was cute, and liked Darry, so it was worth it.

It was made easier to understand when he looked at the facts, those being that Darry liked Paul and that Paul liked Darry. How they varied in that, was pushed into a corner in his mind.

It was secret in the way that no one else knew and secret in the way that they had never discussed it. So did the differences in how they viewed each other matter?

Sometimes it was sweet, honey dripping over evenings spent together. Sometimes they were lying in the back of Darry’s father’s pick-up, out in a field where socs and greasers didn’t matter. Paul had dozed off and Darry was watching him. He started tracing the features of Paul’s face, causing Paul to slowly open his eyes.

“Hey,” Paul mumbled.

“Hey.”

“You’re real good-lookin’ Dar.”

“C’mon Paulie,” Darry muttered, looking away. As much as Darry’s appearance mattered to himself, he didn’t know what to do with compliments.

Paul hummed, still sleepy, and pulled Darry close to kiss him. Darry let him, then Paul settled close and rested his head against Darry’s shoulder.

“We should go home soon, curfew,” Darry whispered, not wanting to shatter the moment.

“Not yet,” Paul mumbled back, eyes still closed.


After they had both gotten over the initial awkwardness of it,

I can’t be seen in a greaser house, man.

Yeah I’ll have to keep my gang from murderin’ you.

Darry brought Paul home a few times.

Typically socs would never come to the East Side, but typically greasers and socs couldn’t stand each other, so this was uncharted territory.

Mrs. Curtis liked having Paul over, he was polite, and he made Darry happy.

Sometimes Darry’s parents weren’t home though, they couldn’t see everything. This time the boys were having it out in the front yard.

“Just go home, Paul,” Darry nearly yelled.

Paul wasn’t letting go of Darry’s wrist. “What’s wrong with you? You told me to come here.”

“I shouldn’t have, it was a mistake.”

Sodapop and Ponyboy were watching from the porch, Pony chewing his thumbnail. Soda wasn’t thinking much of anything except that he wished Paul would leave. Darry could do anything, why wasn’t he pushing him away?

It was only a matter of minutes before the rest of the gang showed up, standing back because Darry could handle his own business, but the boys were there for reinforcement.

Both Darry and Paul tensed at the new presence and Darry’s eyes went cold. He flung Paul’s hand off of him and stormed back inside. Paul wouldn’t dare follow him, they all knew that. Paul stood very still for a minute, processing, then Two-Bit flicked open his switchblade and cocked an eyebrow, causing Paul to spring into motion, getting back in his car and speeding off.

“Y’know, he was just beggin’ to get socked bringing a ride like that to this part of town,” Dally said as he entered the Curtis house, “man I should’ve at least smashed a window or somethin’, give ‘em somethin’ to talk about.”

Soda and Ponyboy had also drifted inside, Pony sitting in a chair, opposite of Darry’s spot on the couch, eyes searching for something.

“Alright Darry?” Soda asked finally, since it seemed no one else was going to.

“Yeah he was just pissing me off, I’ll tackle him real hard tomorrow,” he met Soda’s eyes with a wry smile.

“Shouldn’t even let him over here,” Dally groaned as he rummaged in the ice box.

“Mom likes him.”

“Yeah well, your mom likes me too, so I don’t know if that’s a high standard,” Dally responded.

Darry shook his head, too overwhelmed to come up with a reply.

“Get him some water, Dal, c’mon,” Soda said.

Dally rolled his eyes but complied, the gang sitting together in rare silence.

Pony went back outside, probably going to find Johnny somewhere. Dally and Soda hung around a bit, but Dally split too, after telling Darry happily that he’d kill Paul the next time he saw him.

Soda sat down next to Darry, leaning his head against his shoulder. Darry sighed, Soda could always make him feel better.

“You know you don’t have to put up with him,” Soda said very quietly.

Darry huffed under his breath, the divide between the classes and the rules that coincided had always been less clear to Soda, than they were to Darry. “I do have to, he’s my friend and teammate, we gotta work together no matter the setting. We both have parts to play, I’m doing what I have to.”

“But he’s a soc, and you’re not.”

“Yeah and we play together so we have to deal with that.”

“I don’t like him.”

“Ok Soda.”


Soda hadn’t been on the bus when Darry took it home after school, this had happened before but it didn’t mean Darry liked it. He picked up Pony as usual, then tried to organize a football game out loud.

“Jesus, lay off Darry,” Pony groaned.

“C’mon, play a little, Pony.”

“But I just got a new book from the library, and me and Johnny were gonna build a fire in the lot!” Pony argued.

“Johnny’ll play!”

“Yeah ‘cause you won’t let him say no.”

Darry shook his head, but relented easily. Kid had a point. “What if we play football later this evening? You and Johnny can have it first, but we’ll play at dusk. Go ask Johnny.”

“You’ve got a deal,” Pony grinned at him and ran off.

Darry typically made him and his brothers an after-school snack, they were always starving and their mom did enough already.

“Hi Mom,” Darry greeted her.

Mrs. Curtis looked up from the jeans she was patching, “Hi honey, how was your day?”

Darry stopped briefly to kiss her cheek then dug around for some potato chips.

“It was alright, did Soda come home from school early?”

“No, why?”

“He wasn’t on the bus,” Darry shrugged, “he probably went off with some friends.”

“Oh I wish he’d call from school if he knew he was going to do that,” Mrs. Curtis sighed. She finished her work and stood up, folding the jeans. “I’m going to head to the drugstore, can you make sure Pony comes in soon?”

“Sure, Mom.”

Just minutes after Mrs. Curtis had left, Soda showed up. He went into the kitchen, kicking off his shoes as he did.

Darry looked over at him, face abruptly contorting in concern as he registered the tears in Soda’s eyes.

“Pepsi— what’s going on?”

“He doesn’t like you Darry,” Soda said fiercely, “he doesn’t like you and he doesn’t care about you.”

Darry didn’t have to ask Soda who he was talking about, and he heard the words but they rolled right off, he was pretty good at that.

“Sure he does, he just shows it funny.”

Soda was shaking his head before Darry was done speaking, “No, he don’t. You don’t hear him.”

“Yeah? What’d he say Soda?”

Soda was boiling over now, angry, the tears streaming down his cheeks. Always felt too hard, too much. Darry didn’t understand that. Soda stared at Darry for a few long moments but seemed unable to speak. He stood up and left through the front door.

Darry sighed and shook his head, “Sodapop, your shoes,” he muttered.


“Darrel, honey, have you talked to Soda recently?”

Darry turned around slowly, feeling suddenly guilty, “Not really, I’ve been busy at football practice and my classes—“

“No, Dar, I’m just wondering if he’s getting into trouble or if you’ve heard anything, he’s not home as often as he used to be, I’m worried about him.”

“Has Ponyboy said anything?”

Mrs. Curtis sighed, “He said he thought Soda was with Steve, but I don’t think he has any idea,” she shook her head with a fond smile.

“I’ll talk to him, Mom, he’ll be ok.”

Soda missed dinner and came home looking stormy. Darry intercepted him on his way to bed, pulling Soda into his bedroom.

“Hey, Mom’s real worried about you, why’re you staying out so late?”

“None of your business,” Soda shot back.

Darry frowned, sure Soda could be madder than any of them, but Darry hadn’t even accused him of anything yet.

“C’mon Soda, you’re still a kid, Mom and Dad care about what’s going on.”

“I’m just with some buddies! Blowing off some steam, not a big deal.”

“You been getting into fights?” Darry asked, surprised and a little concerned. Any greaser kid can fight, Soda could hold his own with kids his age but that didn’t mean he wanted Soda looking for fights.

“A few, but I’ve won. I’m not stupid, Darry.“

Darry ground his teeth for a few moments, he hated the idea of Soda getting hurt but he couldn’t babysit the kid. “You’d better come home for dinner tomorrow, alright? And stay away from Buck’s.”

“Fine.”

Darry wasn’t completely convinced, he knew Soda would find other things to do, he would just hope it wouldn’t get him killed.

Soda continued staying out, often coming back in with the smell of grease and gasoline and cigarettes. It wasn’t the worst thing, Darry found out Soda had a group of guys that went to drag races with him.

“As long as he’s not getting injured?” He pleaded, fidgeting as he relayed the information to Mrs. Curtis.

She smiled sadly at him, “You’re a good kid, Darrel, I know you care, and I know I asked, but you can’t watch out for him all the time, just like I can’t, just like your father can’t. He’ll have to learn things on his own, honey.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

A few days later Darry was waiting up for Soda. Mom and Dad had gone out for the evening, so Darry was responsible for making sure his brothers went to bed. Eventually, Soda came in, as quietly as he could, not letting the door slam behind him like he had every other day of his life. He hadn’t turned around yet and Darry was on him before he could.

“Where the hell have you been?” He whispered furiously, he didn’t want Ponyboy overhearing and butting in. “Don’t you know Mom and Dad will be back soon? How was I gonna explain why you weren’t in bed?”

“I’m here,” Soda said, tone flat and hard.

Darry grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, none too gently.

“Shit. Soda.” He studied his brother’s face. Some of his hair was bloodstained, near his forehead, he had a nasty cut on his cheek and a black eye. And that was just surface level, suddenly Darry noticed the way Soda was holding his arm close to his body.

“Who did this to you?”

“Your stupid fuckin’ soc friends,” Soda said, same monotone voice, it was lethal.

“My wha- Your arm-?” There were too many things to ask.

Soda’s anger gave way to pain, and he caved quickly.

“It’s fine Darry, it’s my ribs that might be cracked, lemme lie down ok?”

The last part of his sentence was nearly a whine and Darry suppressed a crazy urge to laugh at the childishness of it.

Soda brushed past him and gingerly got into bed. Darry followed him, sitting down at the bottom of his bed and started untying Soda’s shoes.

“So my fuckin’ soc friends huh?” Darry finally decided to ask.

“Sorry,” Soda sounded very small suddenly, then shook his head. Darry waited as Soda thought through his next words. “I don’t like Paul, Darry, and you won’t listen to me, so y’know, I went and talked to him.”

Darry felt that blaze of anger again, annoyed that Soda would put himself in danger.

“Use your head, kid!” Darry said, removing Soda’s feet from his lap.

Soda sat up, Darry could see the fire in his eyes. But he also noticed the grimace and immediately felt bad.

“You need to stop hanging out with him, he lets all of his friends say awful awful things about you and sometimes Paul says them too. And I saw those bruises on your arm Darry, I know it was Paul. I told him to stop, otherwise we’d have to scrap with ‘em. I said you were my brother and that if he really respected you he wouldn’t talk about you like that.”

“Did Paul fuckin’ hit you?” Darry cut in suddenly, he had to know.

“Nah he shoved me, but he didn’t do this. Some of the other guys did, I don’t, I don’t know them, I don’t think they’re on your team.” Soda rolled over, seemingly ending the conversation.

“Stay away from the socs, man,” Darry said, shaking his head. “What are we gonna tell Mom and Dad?”

“I don’t care,” was the muffled reply.

“I’m gonna talk to Paul, Sodapop, I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Soda suddenly kicked out at Darry, he was too tired to argue but still letting Darry know how stupid he was being.

Darry dodged the next kick and left to wait in the living room for their parents.

He explained to them as vaguely as he could that Soda had gotten into a fight but he was ok. His parents weren’t mad, they rarely were, but he could see the disappointment in their faces. Darry should’ve protected Soda better, he should’ve stopped this. He went to bed wondering if it was possible for his heart to sink right out of his body.

He got dressed the next morning, as soc-y as he could. In hindsight, it seemed stupid. But Soda had possibly ruined Darry’s status with them, and being from the East Side, Darry was on thin ice to begin with. He had to set the record straight, repair his rep in their group, while also being beyond pissed at Paul that he had let Soda get hurt. He had a button-up, he also had one of Paul’s madras shirts but he didn’t want to give them a reason to kill him, so he went for the button-up. He put on his letterman jacket, which he did most days, but it felt different this time. Made sure his shoes were tied and that his hair looked perfect. Dally, who seemed to have spent the night on the couch, threw a pack of cigarettes at Darry’s head, who chucked it back, hitting his mark perfectly. Mrs. Curtis scolded them and Dally grinned. Dally had been doing a lot better lately, hanging around more, getting into less trouble. Darry wondered if he should ask Dally to come to school today but didn’t want to press his luck. He needed to confront Paul but also needed the socs to see that he was one of them, he wasn’t going to betray them.

He found most of the team in the cafeteria, walking up to them and sitting down, like he had so many days before. The energy had shifted though. They were looking down on him, all because his kid brother couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Darry why don’t you go sit somewhere else for today,” Paul whispered low in his ear.

“You’re kidding.”

“Your brother pulled quite the stunt, you might want to let ’em cool down.”

Darry turned to look Paul in his eyes, scowling, “He was just trying to defend me, something he shouldn’t have to do in the first place, hey, is what he said true?”

“I don’t know,” Paul looked away, nonchalant, “what did he tell you?”

“That you and the boys talk about me, when I can’t defend myself, shouldn’t be saying that stuff anyways.”

“You know we don’t mean it, Curtis,” Paul replied.

“Tell me what you said, Paul, word for word.”

Paul gave him a weird look, “drop it, man.”

Darry hated the way he was being brushed off. Sure this happened a lot but he’d had enough, and these guys had hurt his brother. Fuck, he had to apologize to Soda, socs would never change.

“Don’t you ever lay your hands on my brother again, savvy?” Darry’s eyes darted to look at the whole group, “none of you go near him again.”

Someone laughed, “He’s just a kid, he didn’t belong, his fault.”

“I don’t care what he was doing, leave him alone!”

“Big talk coming from you, homo.”

Darry launched himself immediately, landing punches with deadly accuracy. Shouts went up all around and teachers pried them apart none too soon.

“Curtis! The hell is wrong with you!” The principal yelled, “go home for the rest of the day, skip practice too for that matter.”

Darry hardly heard him over his harsh breathing, blood pounding in his ears, everything in him screaming to keep fighting. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the guy he’d been whaling on, satisfied to see that his nose was bleeding.

“Move it, Curtis!”

Darry slowly walked away, feeling mechanical. He got a few blocks away from the school before sitting down on the curb. His mind was racing and he kept rubbing his hands on his jeans, wishing it would calm him down. He had messed up big time. Darry couldn’t catch his breath but couldn’t sit still either. He walked for a while, ending up in a Dairy Queen. He bought a coke just to give himself something to do, but his chest wasn’t loosening. He stayed in a sort of daze for the rest of the day, heading home at the appropriate time for school to end, stopping at the junior high to collect Pony. He kept a hand on the back of Pony’s sweater the entire time they were on the bus, made him feel better.

He tried to act normal at home, getting snacks for Soda and Pony, yelling at Two-Bit to pick up his beer cans. He had checked his reflection the second he’d gotten home, he’d gotten lucky, there was a tiny nick near his eyebrow, no one should notice and if they did he could say he wasn’t sure where he got it either.

He jumped when the phone rang at dinner, dashing to get it.

It was the principal, who wanted to inform his parents that Darry had been in a fight in school, but given his good record, he would be allowed to come back to classes tomorrow and would be expected to show at practice.

“Who was that, honey?”

“Just Paul, Mom,” Darry lied easily. “Making sure I’m coming to the afterparty this weekend.”

“I don’t like you being out that late, remember your curfew Darry.”

“Yes ma’am.”


School was tense. The socs all ignored Darry, which was fine by him, safest. And Two-Bit didn’t let Darry out of his sight, constant backup.

He got tackled rougher than usual that night. Dazed after a particularly aggressive hit, it took him a few moments to get back up, but he took it all in stride. It could be worse.

Darry didn’t see Paul alone until they were in the locker room. He’d finished showering and had just gotten his jeans on, when Paul pulled him behind a deserted bank of lockers.

Paul was pressed against him in moments, kissing his shoulder, face warm and damp at Darry’s neck.

Darry stiffened, “What are you doing Paul?”

“You gonna come over tonight Darry?”

Darry shoved him back, “The fuck?”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what? You hurt my brother! Talked behind my back! I’m part of this team too but you sure ain’t acting like it!”

“Oh get over it, greaser.”

Darry tried to hit him, Paul should know better, and he must’ve, because Paul saw it coming and caught his arm.

“Forget it,” Paul stepped out of Darry’s reach before pointing an accusing finger at him, “You better not show at the river flat this weekend.” He raised his hands in a mocking, placating manner, “We’re cool Curtis, we’ll play clean, but stay away from us outside of school alright?” Paul’s tone was odd, like Darry should have known this all already, as if Paul hadn’t turned Darry’s life upside down in mere days.

Darry froze, mind reeling in confusion.

“So you’re not gonna apologize? Don’t wanna fix this?” He finally got out. His tongue felt like lead.

Paul looked at him in disgust, “Fix what?”

Darry felt the rage rear, but took a breath and brushed past Paul, “Nevermind.”


Darry had to go to the river flat. Their team had lost, so it would be more dangerous than usual, with the socs in a bad mood. But Darry needed to break it off with Paul once and for all. They’d made out in the meantime and Darry thought he was going to be sick. How was he still ok with kissing the boy who got his brother hurt?

He’d gone back home with his parents after the game, then pleaded to Mr. Curtis to let him have the truck. After several promises and assurances he’d be back at an appropriate time, he was allowed to go.

Darry did have to stop the truck once to throw up. It was all terrifying, there were too many things at play, too many things that had gone wrong and could go wrong. Paul had been sweet sometimes and Darry had really liked him. And Darry had had a good relationship with the team, or so he thought. Now he was losing an entire gang that he had been buddies with, but would still have to see every day. Not to mention Paul had this huge secret of theirs that he could reveal at any time and what would Darry be able to do? Soc against greaser word? He wouldn’t be able to fix that if it came to it. There was a chance Paul already had, based on what Soda had been so upset about, but it hadn’t become a big deal yet, so Darry would just pray real hard it wouldn’t come to that. He was determined to protect his family’s dignity and to never kiss Paul’s stupidly pretty face again.

The socs were so involved with themselves that they didn’t notice him until he was mere feet away, but then Chet tapped Paul on the shoulder, nudging him to turn.

Paul turned around with this look in his eyes that Darry thought he’d never be on the receiving end of. He knew that look, had known it his entire life. Rich, stuck-up socs who thought they were on a higher plane of existence than greasers. A look that said Darry was something to extinguish. He felt the knife in his heart but that was secondary to the anger flaring hot in his chest, in his shoulders. His first reaction would always be to protect himself, and his brothers. It’s survival of the fittest in high school, and especially with the East vs West rivalry. He squared his shoulders, every muscle tensing. He was taller than Paul and he was going to make sure every inch showed, no matter how small he felt.

“What’s up, Darrel?” Paul said coolly, all swagger.

“Knock it off Paul, you tell me or we can deal with this a different way.”

Paul rolled his eyes, tossing a grin to his friends, as if Darry was the one being ridiculous. Paul gripped Darry by the shoulder, his fist curling into the material of his jacket, as he pulled him away. He dragged Darry behind a truck so that they were somewhat obscured from the gaze of his friends.

“I told you not to show up Darry,” Paul said, jaw clenched.

Darry smacked Paul’s hand off of him. “We’re not going to see each other anymore, you hear?”

Paul scoffed, “You’ll come back, I ain’t worried.”

Darry shook his head, feeling hotter than ever, “Don’t ask me to come around, don’t talk to me at school, stay away from my family, this will never work.” He didn’t say what ‘this’ was, but he didn’t need to.

“Don’t be such a little bitch,” Paul replied, unconcerned.

The fire took hold and Darry didn’t hear anything after that; he was slugging at Paul with as much force as he had ever had. Paul cried out, causing the other socs to check out the scene. Darry was taller than a lot of them, gave him more leverage, and he thought he was pretty strong, pretty tough. Most importantly, he didn’t lose fights. He got some hits in, which Paul answered and Darry knew that his lip was swelling, some socs grabbed at him but he kicked them off. Things were happening very quickly and suddenly Darry was jogging backwards, wiping at the blood running down the side of his face. His shirt was torn, hands bloody, but his adrenaline was pumping and he half felt like running back over and lighting the rest of the guys up. He tasted metal and stumbled as his body fought between deciding what to do next. They were staring at him like he was an alien, and he thought that maybe he was, he’d be ok with that. He left Paul lying on the ground, the socs with murder in their eyes.

He made it back to the truck, god, he’d have to find a way to explain the blood on the seats or at least clean them up a little. He spat out some blood, then climbed in, feeling like he might vibrate out of his skin. He sat there trembling as the adrenaline wore off, unexpected tears jumping to his eyes. He wiped them away hastily, but they kept coming. He blamed it on his grimy fingers. He started talking to himself, a hobby he had mostly managed to keep under wraps, he didn’t need more people looking at him funny.

“C’mon Darrell you knew better. Why would you get yourself tangled with a soc, a soc boy.”

Once his hands stopped trembling, they really were shaking something awful, he put the truck in first gear and started home.

“It’ll be ok, they won’t be out for blood at this time because how do you explain the entire football team turning on the captain, even if he is a grease. Right? Worst case scenario I get jumped, I can deal with that, should be one and done. Or a few more but I’ll make it and then it’ll be over. Maybe they’ll just ignore me at school. That’d be somethin’. Fuck. Worst case scenario Pony or Soda get jumped, shit man, I gotta tell Two-Bit and Steve to look out for Soda.” He rubbed his hand against his face as he suddenly feared for his littlest brother’s life, “Man I must be buggin’ but I could talk to Tim, Curly’d shut people up ‘bout Pony real quick.” He muttered. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders, “Yeah that’s what I’ll do.”

Darry didn’t have to say anything when he came home that night. He’d checked in the side mirror before walking in, wanted to make sure it didn’t look like he’d been crying. Soda got up from where he’d been watching cartoons on the couch and hugged Darry without question. Darry just rested his head on his little brother’s hair, swearing to himself he’d do better to listen to Soda, he was young but he was perceptive and smart. He’d have to tell him sometime.