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Darry had no chance in hell of sleeping.

He already regretted giving Ponyboy a curfew of midnight. His father used to say, back when Darry was the one needing a curfew, that nothing good happened after midnight. Now, though, Darry was sure nothing good happened past nine o’clock. 

Now, it was 11:50 p.m., and Ponyboy wasn’t home yet. Darry had checked that the phone was operational twice already.

“Darry, he’s sixteen,” Two-Bit said, grinning lopsidedly. “I don’t remember you coming home until the clock hit exactly midnight when you were his age.”

Ponyboy was newly sixteen. Hence, the situation at hand. Darry had extended his curfew, just as he had done when Soda turned sixteen and their parents had done for Darry. Of course, Curly Shepard had decided that meant Ponyboy needed to go out. At first, Darry had insisted someone go with them. Johnny was the first choice, but he had favored preparing for school instead. The kid was ecstatic about being able to return and Darry didn’t have the heart to force him to go anyway. Dally had been quite vehement about ‘that fucking Shepard kid being a menace’ and that he would ‘rather be shot again than spend an evening with the little shit’. So he’d been out too. Soda and Steve were working, and Two-Bit would, in all likelihood, encourage Ponyboy to push the limits of his curfew just enough to give Darry heart palpitations. Darry himself would have gone, but he didn’t want to actively ruin the kid’s fun. And besides, Ponyboy was a good kid. He very rarely broke the rules, and when he did, it was in such a minor way that it didn’t seem worth punishing. Tim Shepard had even remarked once that he thought Pony to be a good influence on Curly. So it would probably be fine. 

At least, that’s what he’d decided two days ago, when Ponyboy asked once more if he could go.

Now-Darry hated Two-Days-Ago-Darry. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Darry said, waving off his friend and watching as the clock ticked to 11:51 p.m. He eyed his keys, hanging on a hook next to the door. He knew where Ponyboy was. It wouldn’t be so bad to just wait outside the house party until Pony got in Curly’s car. And then maybe follow behind them to make sure Curly drove safely. Oh, God, had he been drinking? Ponyboy knew better than to get in a car with a drunk driver. Unless Pony had been drinking too. Maybe he should go check.

“Good God, man,” Two-Bit said dramatically. “He’s more responsible than any of us were at that age. He even puts his shoes on the rack. Johnny doesn’t even do that.”

Two-Bit had a point. Darry sighed, trying to ease back into his chair. He wished the TV were still going, but if he turned it on now, it would just be static. He thought about going to retrieve a book from his room, but he hesitated to leave the phone. So, he sat and watched the clock. Two-Bit laid down on the couch, falling asleep freakishly fast as he always did. Darry had never understood how someone could go from awake to dead to the world in five seconds, but Two-Bit was especially talented when it came to being lazy. 

Unfortunately for Two-Bit’s sleep and Darry’s heart, at 11:56, the phone rang. 

Darry had the receiver to his ear before he even processed standing. 

“Hello?”

“Is this… what’d you say it was, sweetheart? Is this Darrel Curtis?” There was a woman’s voice on the other end, raspy, like maybe she was a heavy smoker. 

“Yes,” Darry said breathlessly. “Who is this?”

“I’m Coppa,” the woman said. Darry thought how odd that name was, but he knew better than to judge strange names. And it was hard to hear her, with music going loudly in the background. “I’m calling for your brother. It seems he’s gotten lost. Don’t worry, he’s perfectly safe.”

A bizarre mix of fear and relief flooded through Darry. “Where are you? I’ll come pick him up now.”

The woman gave an address, which Darry wrote frantically on the notepad they always kept by the phone. Right above it, Dally’s chicken scratch handwriting said ‘Evie’s pregnant’, followed up by Steve’s blocky ‘Fuck you, Winston’. That explained the fighting earlier in the day. Dally was often bored, and Steve was by far the easiest to rile up. Darry had no idea why Steve ever still believed anything Dally said.

Darry was heading out the door before he had even fully hung up the phone. He threw the truck in reverse, trying to keep his rushing thoughts at bay. The woman, Coppa, had said Ponyboy was safe. That was good. How on Earth had he gotten lost? He was supposed to be at a house party near the train tracks. It was a house Darry knew, where the parents were likely to be present and keeping an eye on things. Was Curly with him? 

As Darry got closer, he realized he wasn’t in the neighborhood of that party. He’d thought the address sounded familiar, and that was because it was near the office for the roofing company. Just down the street, in fact.

He nearly drove past it. But as he double checked his map, he realized that the address he’d been given belonged to a bar. Gene’s Bamboo Lounge. It was a squat little building, but the parking lot was full. He could hear the music from outside as he parked the truck and got out. The doors to the bar swung open, making the music louder. Two men stumbled out, arms slung around each other. Clearly drunk, they leaned on one another heavily, trying to hold each other up. Their heads lolled onto each other’s shoulders. Darry shook his head, determined to find Ponyboy. He just hoped his brother wasn’t drinking too. He’d allowed Pony a few beers with the others recently, but never enough to even get him tipsy. He had been hoping that Pony’s first time being drunk would be at home, where Darry could keep an eye on him. 

As he passed the men, one of them whistled. He rolled his eyes, ducking his head. His shirt was too tight, and he knew it–he’d shrunk it in the dryer and refused to buy a new one. Other guys tended to make comments on it. Two-Bit said it was jealousy. Darry was embarrassed either way. 

He swung open the door, taking just a second to adjust to the deafening sound inside. Besides the music, the bar was full of people, all dancing and singing, laughing and talking. The room smelled sharply of alcohol and cigarettes and the overwhelming stench of cologne. It felt like being in the bathroom after everyone got ready in the morning, but multiplied by ten. 

Another whistle came from his left. He glanced over, finding a group of men about his age watching him. Something about their gazes made him really wish he was wearing a looser shirt. 

“Heya, handsome,” said a tall man with blond hair. He wore a brown vest and a button-up shirt, but he might as well have been wearing no shirt at all for how low it was buttoned. “You lost?”

“Er…” Darry glanced between the men. They all looked similar to the speaker, with only slight variations in how much skin they showed off. One man was wearing a turtleneck, at least. The only issue was that it was so tight, Darry could count each individual muscle, even in the dark. At least it made him feel less embarrassed about his own shirt. 

Another man stalked forward, shorter than the others and sporting a leather jacket Dally would have killed for. “You been here before?”

“No… I, uh, got a call-”

The men laughed. Darry wasn’t sure what he’d said that was funny. The short man grinned at him. “You meeting somebody?”

“Kinda-”

“Kinda? So you’re open to meeting someone else?” asked a dark-haired man wearing possibly the tightest pants Darry had ever seen.

“Not you, Tommy,” said the blond man. The group laughed, even Tommy. 

Darry was confused. He wanted to find Ponyboy and go home. Preferably, forget about Gene’s Bamboo Lounge altogether. 

“Do you know a woman named Coppa?” Darry asked.

“A woman?” the short man crowed.

“Honey, look around,” Tommy laughed. “You see a lot of women here?”

Darry glanced around. Tommy was right. He hadn’t noticed at first, but the massive crowd had only a few women that Darry could see. 

“Wait, what did you call her?” the blond man asked. 

“...Coppa?” It sounded ridiculous coming out of his mouth. It probably wasn’t even the woman’s name. Maybe he wasn’t even in the right place…

“Ha!” the blond barked. “I know who you’re looking for. C’mon.”

The blond man strode forward, linking arms with Darry as if they might skip to the woman Wizard-of-Oz-style. They began to weave through the bar, dodging alcohol and men. 

“What’s your name?” the man asked.

“Uh… Darry,” Darry replied, trying his best to be heard over the music.

“Like milk?” the blond laughed.

“Er… no. It’s short for Darrel,” Darry said. 

“Oh, Darrel. That’s a nice name. Sexy,” the blond man said. 

Darry’s brow furrowed. Sexy? 

“I’m Clark. Everyone calls me Sonny, though.”

“As in, ‘and Cher’?” Darry asked.

Sonny grinned. “Not quite. Maybe you do belong here, though.”

Before Darry could ask the real reason for the name, they’d ended up in a hallway in front of a door. The hallway was slightly quieter, away from the music. Sonny knocked on the door loudly, nonetheless.

It swung open quickly, revealing three women.

Darry stared for a second. 

The woman who opened the door was as tall as Darry. About as big too. Her muscles could have rivaled Darry’s. But she still managed to look glamorous, like a woman from Manhattan instead of Tulsa. Her red hair was piled on top of her head in ringlets, her long turquoise dress flowing and sparkling. Her makeup was shocking, blue eyeshadow out of a magazine. 

Behind her was a woman with dark skin, with what had to have been a wig on. It was perfectly curled, strawberry blonde and bangs straightened against her forehead. She wore a maroon dress, with a fur wrap on her shoulders.

The last woman was petite, sitting on a stool in the middle of the room. Her black hair was teased to surround her whole head, a bow tied around it. Her dress was far shorter than the others, bordering on revealing. It was a brilliant color of yellow, giving the appearance that it glowed in the dim room. 

And then, there was Ponyboy. He sat in front of the small woman, looking very young. Darry rushed forward, forgetting his manners. He knelt in front of his brother, putting a palm on the boy’s cheek to look him in the eye. “Are you okay?”

Pony avoided eye contact, but nodded. Darry scanned him for any obvious issues, finding nothing. The kid didn’t smell like alcohol, just Soda’s cologne. Darry let out a sigh, pulling his brother into a quick hug before getting to his feet. Sonny and the red-headed woman were speaking quietly. Sonny let out a chuckle before kissing her on the cheek and waving at Darry, turning on his heel and walking away.

“You’re Darrel?” the red-headed woman asked, turning to Darry.

Darry nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

She strode forward. Darry couldn’t quite get over how tall she was. He didn’t know the last time a woman had been at eye level with him. Most men weren’t. 

“I’m Coppa,” she said, reaching out to shake his hand. “We spoke on the phone.”

“Thank you for calling,” Darry said. He glanced around the room, realizing it was a dressing room. 

Mostly men outside. A dressing room with beautifully dressed women.

Oh, dear God.

His face must have given him away, because the small woman giggled. “You have no idea where you are, do you?”

“Nina,” Coppa said warningly. 

Darry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s right. I’ve never even heard of this place until tonight.” He looked back at his brother, whose face was flaming. As it should be. A sixteen-year-old at a strip club. Good Lord. 

“And what do you think of it now?” the woman in the maroon dress asked. 

“LuLu, come on now,” Coppa said.

Darry had no idea what the right answer was here. “Er… the music is nice.”

Internally, he conjured up a clone of himself just so he could beat his own face in. The music is nice? 

All three women laughed. Coppa threw her head back, and Darry froze.

Coppa had an Adam’s apple. 

He glanced at the small woman, Nina. She tilted her head to the side, and as the light illuminated her, Darry saw that she, too, had one. A look at LuLu showed him the same thing.

All men outside. 

The stumbling men in the parking lot, leaning on each other… drunkenly?

“Heya, handsome.”

Oh, dear God. 

He took a step back, reaching for Ponyboy. 

Wait.

Why on Earth was his little brother at a queer club? A strip joint he could understand. This was something else entirely.

He whirled around, looking at the kid. Ponyboy glanced up quickly before ducking back down. Minutely, Darry could see the shaking of the boy’s shoulders. 

He dropped back down to Pony’s level, taking the kid by the shoulders. Quietly, he asked, “Did they hurt you?”

Ponyboy looked at him again, eyes brimming with tears. “No! No, Darry, they helped me, I swear.” Darry felt like he was going to fall over from the sheer amount of emotions flowing through him. “Please don’t be angry at them. They’re really nice, Darry. They didn’t do nothing.”

Did Pony know who he was in this room with? 

He had to. He had requested Darry not to be angry. He had to know. 

“Pony…” Darry said lowly.

“Darrel.” A voice interrupted. He turned, finding all three… men staring at them. Coppa looked sympathetic, kinder than Darry would have expected. “Ponyboy has been safe this whole time. We kept him back here, away from the crowd.”

Darry didn’t know how to say that he wasn’t sure how much better that was.

“It’s true, Darry,” Ponyboy said. His voice had taken on a pleading tone. 

Darry looked between the others and his brother. Finally, he sighed. “Let’s just go home.”

He knew he needed to talk to Ponyboy. Figure out why he was here. If he had ever been going to a house party. 

But right now, he wanted to get away from this club, back to his home where his brother was safe. 

Ponyboy trailed after him as they left the room. Darry heard him murmur a quiet goodbye to the people inside. As they reached the parking lot, Darry heard someone call out. He turned to find Coppa standing in front of the door. 

Darry handed the keys to Ponyboy. “Turn the truck on. Do not get in the driver’s seat.” The kid had gotten his license just recently, and he wanted to drive any chance he got. Tonight would not be one of those chances. 

When Ponyboy was out of earshot, he turned to Coppa. “Can I help you?”

“Darrel, I understand that this is… different, for you.”

Darry snorted. “Yeah, that’s one word for it.”

Coppa gave him a wry smile. It was shocking just how much like a woman he looked. “Listen, Darrel, I don’t know you. I don’t know your brother much better. But having spent an hour with the kid… I think you should talk to him.”

Darry stared. “Excuse me?”

Coppa sighed. “Your brother talked highly of you. He thinks you hung the moon. He wanted me to call you the minute we brought him in, but as I was dialling the number, he changed his mind. Because he was afraid you’d be angry. Not because he broke the rules, but because of where he was. Most kids would be afraid of being at a gay bar. Your brother was afraid of being caught here.”

Darry felt his stomach flip-flop. Was his brother…?

But more importantly…

Was Ponyboy afraid to tell him?

“Get him home, Darrel. Talk to him. Be the man that hung the moon.” 

Darry watched Coppa carefully for a moment. He had an earnest look on his face, hopeful and commanding at once. It reminded Darry, shockingly, of his mother. 

He stuck his hand out. “Thank you.”

Coppa gave him a brilliant smile. “It’s no problem. I handle lost kids all the time–I’m a firefighter during the day.”

Darry blinked and Coppa laughed. “Goodnight, Darrel.”

—✯—

Darry didn’t say anything the ten minutes home. He could sense the tension and fear bleeding off Ponyboy, and he knew the silence didn’t help. But he didn’t trust himself to speak right now, not without saying something he’d regret. 

He tried to rationalize the woman who had called him and the female impersonator he had met. 

Even more, he tried to rationalize the female impersonator and the person who had protected his little brother. 

To be honest, he’d never thought about it much. This was Tulsa, not San Francisco. Homosexuality wasn’t a problem here. He and his friends ran around half-naked constantly, because it was obvious that none of them would ever be that way. 

Except.

Except now, maybe Ponyboy was.

And hell, wasn’t that something?

He knew next to nothing about homosexuals. He knew that sometimes they dressed up as women, like the men at the club. He knew how they had sex. He knew they liked tight clothing. He had vaguely heard of homophiles although he didn’t really know the difference. He knew that the Christians in town called it a sin, although he had no idea here or there about that. Especially considering he hadn’t stepped foot in a church since his grandmother died nearly fifteen years ago. He’d heard his father discuss a pair of men back in the war who had been discharged after being caught fraternizing. 

His father.

What would his parents think?

For the millionth time, Darry desperately wished he could talk to his parents. He tried to comb through his memories, searching for anything his parents had ever said.

It had been Soda who asked the question. The family was sitting in the living room, watching the Colts and Lions battle it out (since then, thank God, the Cowboys had emerged and become the Curtis family team). 

As the game cut to a commercial, little Sodapop, who was nine years old, piped up. “Hey, Mama, what’s a fag?”

A choking sound emerged behind Darry, who sat on the floor in front of the television with Sodapop. A quick look back showed that his dad was coughing violently, setting his drink on the ground. Darry looked at Mama, who looked just about as shocked. 

Darry had heard the word before. He was eleven, after all. But, to be honest, he didn’t really know what it meant either. Just that it was an insult that got you sent to the principal’s office. 

Mama glanced at Dad. Hesitantly, she said, “Where did you hear that, honey?”

Soda shrugged, eyes dancing back and forth between their parents and the television. “At school. Jimmy Brown said that Sammy Walker was a fag, and then Sammy Walker whooped him. He seemed real mad, so I figured it must be something bad.”

Mama and Dad always encouraged the boys to ask questions. Once, Darry had even sat at the dinner table after the younger boys had gone to bed, reciting cuss words and insults to see which ones were allowed and which ones weren’t (crap was allowed and shit was not, a fact which Two-Bit was sorely disappointed by). Darry had never seen his parents look so unsure about a question. 

“Well…” Dad began.

Mama cleared her throat. “It’s a mean word. We don’t say it.”

“Yeah, but what does it mean?” Soda questioned. He was stubborn by nature and also quite enjoyed asking questions just for the joy of getting an answer. Virtues of being a middle child.

Dad sighed. “It’s a word that people use to describe… er… Beth?”

Mama opened and closed her mouth for a moment. “Oh!” She got up from the couch, entering the bedroom she and Dad shared. She was gone for a moment before returning with the Oxford Dictionary. She sat back down, flipping the pages. “Homosexual. A person who is sexually or romantically attracted to members of the same sex.” She looked at Soda and Darry. Darry wasn’t sure what that meant. Apparently, neither was Sodapop.

“What?” 

Mama groaned. 

“Okay. Boys, you understand how Mama and I are a couple?” Dad asked. 

Darry nodded. “You’re married.”

Dad looked at the sky for a moment, as if thinking. “Yes. We are. But some people are just going out. Like my friend Ron and his girlfriend, Janie. They aren’t married, but they’re still a couple.”

“So they’re fags?” Soda asked. 

“Sodapop!” Mama scolded. Soda looked taken aback, and Darry couldn’t blame him. They were always allowed to say a word when they didn’t know what it meant. Even when it was a cuss word. Mama sighed. “Sweetheart, I don’t want you to use that word anymore. We will explain it, I promise.”

Soda frowned, but nodded his agreement.

Dad took a deep breath. “So. Mama and I, and Ron and Janie, are couples. One man and one woman. Well, sometimes… er, that is…” Dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sometimes two men are a couple too.”

Darry raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Mama gave a strained smile. “It’s not… normal. But it happens. And they aren’t bad people, and they aren’t hurting anyone. They’re called homosexuals. ‘Homo’ means same. So it means they are attracted to people of the same sex as them. Males attracted to males, females attracted to females.”

“Women are fags too?” Soda questioned.

“Soda!” Mama and Dad said together. 

Soda grimaced. “Sorry. I forgot.”

Mama sighed. “It’s okay, honey. Just try not to say it anymore, okay? Homosexual is the right word. The other word is mean, like calling someone a name.”

“So is Sammy a… homosexual?” Soda said the word clunkily, like he was testing it out.

“Er… he might be?” Dad said. “You guys are awfully young to know that just yet.”

“So then why did Jimmy call him that?” 

“Well, honey…” Mama said. “Some people see being homosexual as a bad thing. Do you remember going to church with Grandma? How they talked about sins?”

Soda and Darry nodded. 

“Like lying!” Soda piped up.

“Yes, like lying,” Mama agreed. “Some people think being homosexual is a sin.”

“Is it?” Darry queried.

Mama glanced at Dad. “Well… the Bible says it is. But our family doesn’t follow the Bible.”

“Why?” Soda asked.

“Um…”

“Why is it a sin?” Darry prodded. 

Mama sighed. “The Bible says that men and women should be together. Like Adam and Eve. That’s the only way babies can happen.”

“How?” Soda asked.

Darry snickered. He’d been let in on that secret this year. 

“Oh, Lord,” Mama muttered. “Okay, boys, listen. You don’t need to worry about homosexuality. Just try not to say that word anymore, do you understand?”

Then, the game had come back on, and things went back to normal.

Darry tried to piece together what his parents would say now, based on that memory. His parents had said homosexuals weren’t bad people. They had disapproved of the word ‘fag’. Surely, that meant his parents didn’t hate homosexuals. 

But would they approve of their own son being one? 

Before he realized it, he was pulling into the driveway. He turned the truck off, glancing over at his brother. Ponyboy was curled in on himself against the door, about as far from Darry as he could get. 

“We’re home,” Darry said dumbly. 

Ponyboy looked at him for a moment before his eyes darted away again. “Can I go in?”

Darry blinked. “What?”

Ponyboy’s bottom lip trembled in the way it always did when he was trying to keep control over himself. It hurt Darry’s heart, watching his baby brother stuff down his feelings like that.

“I… Am I allowed back in the house?”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Darry asked. “I ain’t happy with you, but it's nothing we can’t figure out. We’ll talk about it in the morning, alright?”

“You ain’t kicking me out?” Ponyboy said, finally making eye contact. His eyes were wide, and to Darry’s immense sadness, filled with tears.

Darry put a hand on Ponyboy’s cheek, cradling it gently. “Honey, it’s going to take a lot more than this to make me that angry.” Ponyboy’s face lit up with relief. “I lied to Mama and Dad about where I was going in high school. It's not that big of a deal.” Suddenly, the relief slipped off the kid’s face. He pulled away from Darry, opening the door. 

“Right,” the boy said dejectedly. “I’m going to bed.”

Darry frowned. He didn’t know what he’d said to make the kid flip like that. But Pony had evidently been all over the world tonight, and Lord knew Darry was tired from spending five minutes in that place. Much less an hour. 

“Your brother talked highly of you. He thinks you hung the moon. He wanted me to call you the minute we brought him in, but as I was dialling the number, he changed his mind. Because he was afraid you’d be angry. Not because he broke the rules, but because of where he was. Most kids would be afraid of being at a gay bar. Your brother was afraid of being caught here. Get him home, Darrel. Talk to him. Be the man that hung the moon.”

Coppa’s words echoed in his head. He would talk to Ponyboy in the morning, when they’d both gotten some rest. 

He followed Pony into the house, where the kid disappeared quickly into his bedroom. Darry sighed, throwing a blanket over the sleeping Two-Bit on the couch. He opened the door carefully to the room Johnny and Dally now shared, finding both boys asleep peacefully. He opened the door to the room Soda and Pony shared, finding Ponyboy already in bed alongside Soda. It was possible the kid was asleep already, but doubtful. Darry decided to leave it, not wanting to wake Soda or Steve, who he now realized was asleep in the other twin bed Darry had lugged out of storage. 

He retreated to his own bedroom, climbing under his mother’s soft quilt and falling asleep easily. 

—✯—

The next day was a Sunday, which meant no one was working that morning. Darry avoided the subject all through breakfast, through Bullwinkle, and Steve and Soda fighting over the last slice of chocolate cake.

Finally, by two o’clock, it was just Darry and Ponyboy in the house. Two-Bit had a shift at the diner (he’d finally picked up a job, insisting that it was just for beer money. Darry had noticed the extra additions to their savings jar, though), and Soda and Steve at the DX. Dally and Johnny had decided to see a movie, and Darry had braced himself to tell Pony he couldn’t go. But the kid hadn’t asked, just shaking his head when Johnny asked if he was coming. 

The pair sat on the couch, on opposite ends. A Cardinals vs Braves game played on television, a low hum of noise. 

Darry steeled himself. “How did you end up there last night, kid?”

Ponyboy glanced over at him. “Curly wanted to go to a different party. We got halfway there before I realized he was trying to go to Harry Crenshaw’s, and I didn’t wanna go.” 

Darry felt grateful for that. Harry Crenshaw was a man a few years older than Darry who liked to hang out with teenagers. He bought them beer and weed and whatever else they wanted. He creeped Darry out, and he certainly didn’t want his little brother around the guy.

“So I told Curly to pull the car over and let me out at a payphone. I was gonna call you, Dar, honest. But you know how Curly is, so he dropped me off there. I guess maybe he knew what it was. He told me to go in there and make my call, and then he sped off. I figured they might have a phone I could use, or at least tell me where one was, so I went inside.” Ponyboy trailed off, cheeks turning pink. 

“How did you meet those… people?” Darry asked.

Ponyboy side-eyed him, sighing. “I got distracted. Miss Coppa was up on the stage…” The kid turned a shade darker. “Dancing. I guess Miss Nina saw me, because she came over and said I was too young to be there. I told her I just wanted a phone, and she told me they had one in their dressing room. So I went with her.” He chewed on his lip. “I guess that was kinda stupid. I didn’t realize what she was yet. She seemed nice.” He paused. “She was nice. When we got in there, Miss Lucille was already there. Miss Coppa came back there right after us, and I introduced myself to all of them.” He looked at Darry, as if waiting for a reaction. Darry nodded in a way he hoped was encouraging. “That was when I realized where I was. What it was.”

“You understand it?” Darry questioned hesitantly. 

Pony nodded. “I ain’t five.”

Darry chuckled. “I guess that’s true.” He thought for a moment. “So… you didn’t intend on going there?”

Ponyboy looked down at his lap. “No.”

“Why did you stay so long?” Coppa had said it was because Pony was scared. Not of the club, but of being caught there.

Ponyboy’s face was flaming red. “Darry…”

Darry sighed. He could see his brother trembling. Was his baby brother so afraid of Darry? So scared that Darry’s love for him was conditional? Darry scooted down until his leg was pressed to Pony’s. He wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulders. Pony was tense and shaking, but he didn’t try to get away. 

“Listen to me, honey. I ain’t mad about where you were.” It was true, he realized. He wasn’t angry that Ponyboy was at a… homosexual club. “I’m not happy that you went somewhere else, but I’m proud of you for bailing out when you realized where you were going. I wish you’d called me sooner. I wish you weren’t afraid to call me, baby.”

Ponyboy suddenly let out a sob, and Darry felt like his heart was shattering. The kid crumbled in Darry’s arms, turning to bury his face in Darry’s collarbone. Darry wrapped him up tightly, holding the kid close. He would never admit it and it was a source of immense guilt, but he treasured the moments that Ponyboy allowed him to give him so much affection. The kid always wanted to look so tuff. Darry just wanted to hold him.  

“I’m sorry, Darry,” Ponyboy cried. 

“Don’t be sorry, baby. I’m sorry you were so scared.” 

“No,” Ponyboy whimpered. “I’m sorry.” 

Darry frowned, grasping Pony’s shoulders and pulling him back so he could look the kid in the eyes. “What do you mean, honey?”

“I was scared to call you because…” Ponyboy let out a choked sob. “Because I didn’t want you to know I was there.”

“Honey, I know-”

“Because then you might realize that I liked it there.” Ponyboy barely forced the words out, covering his mouth with his hands like the sentence had been choked out of him against his will. His eyes were wide and terrified, tears streaming down his face.

Darry’s heart sank. 

For a moment, he felt horribly guilty. Was he upset that Ponyboy was… whatever he was? 

No. 

He was afraid. Homosexuals (if that was what Ponyboy was) lead hard lives. He didn’t know how to protect his brother from this. 

“I’m sorry, Darry,” Ponyboy sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-”

Darry pulled him back into his chest. He couldn’t bear to listen to the desperate apologies of his baby brother. 

If Darry had ever thought that homosexuality was a choice, he didn’t now. Ponyboy was devastated in the way that one could only be when they knew nothing could be changed. And didn’t that hurt something terrible, imagining Pony trying furiously to change? And then knowing that he couldn’t, and that simple fact might be the thing that tears him away from his family? 

“Oh, baby,” Darry whispered into the kid’s hair. “Please don’t be sorry. I ain’t mad at you, I swear it.”

Ponyboy let out a strangled sound, hands coming up to fist in the back of Darry’s shirt. 

For what felt like hours, Darry held Ponyboy as the kid sobbed. He murmured reassurances into the boy’s hair, but it all felt useless. 

Finally, long after the Cardinals had beaten the Braves, Ponyboy pulled away. The kid’s face was swollen and red, and it made Darry’s chest ache. “You’re really not angry?” 

Darry felt like he himself could cry. “No, baby. I’m not angry. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

Ponyboy looked away. “What if I did? Do something, I mean.”

Darry frowned. “What do you mean?”

Ponyboy flushed. “What if I… Darry, I don’t want to be alone.”

Darry stared at his brother for a moment. Why would Pony be alone? Darry was right here. 

It hit him, very suddenly. 

Darry knew, although it seemed less likely every day, that he would eventually settle down with a woman and have a family. Not that he put much thought into it–at the moment, trying to add a woman into his life seemed like a nightmare. But it was just the kind of thing one knew. Someone like Dally may never settle down, Darry supposed. He might end up like Darry’s father’s friend, James, who brought a different woman to every event. But Darry and Sodapop and Steve and Two-Bit and Johnny would all one day marry a woman and have kids, and their kids would know each other as cousins. All six of them knew what their future held, in the end. 

Ponyboy didn’t. It wasn’t like he could marry a man. And Darry didn’t want Pony to marry a woman whom he didn’t love. It made his chest hurt just thinking about his brother being trapped like that.

Pony was afraid that when the rest of them settled down and had their own families, Pony would be on his own. 

So what was he asking? 

“Do you mean… going steady with… a guy?” Darry asked hesitantly. 

Pony’s face fell even further, and Darry realized that his uncertainty might have sounded like disapproval. It wasn’t that.

The longer this went on, the more Darry realized: he didn’t give two shits if Pony was homosexual. All he cared about, the thing he’d cared about for the last two years, was whether or not Pony was happy. 

“Look at me, baby,” Darry said, gently tilting Pony’s chin to meet his eyes. Pony had begun to cry again, making him look so young. “If you want that, I’m here for you, okay?” He grinned. “And hey, at least now I only have to worry about Soda getting someone pregnant.”

Pony stared at him for a moment before laughing. It was a mix of tears and chuckling, but Darry would take it just to see a smile on his brother’s face. 

“Mama and Dad wouldn’t have minded either, y’hear?” Darry said. 

Ponyboy looked stricken, before his eyes softened. “Really?”

Darry nodded. Ponyboy was far too young to remember the conversation all those years ago, and Darry was fairly certain he’d been asleep in their father’s lap at the time anyway. “Really. They would have loved you all the same, just like I do.”

Ponyboy gave a watery smile before tackling Darry in a hug fit for a wrestling match. For a moment, they sat there, Ponyboy lying on top of Darry. The kid had grown over the last few months (increasing the grocery bill by thirty percent on his own), and he was only a few inches shorter than Darry now. But he still fit perfectly in the crook of Darry’s arm, head resting on his big brother’s shoulder. 

“Dar?” Ponyboy asked.

“Hm?” 

“Will you tell the guys for me?” 

Darry blinked. He had forgotten that just because he knew now didn’t mean the whole gang did. Sometimes it felt that way: like they absorbed information through a hivemind. When one of them knew something, inevitably, they all would. 

Worse, he had no idea how they would react. 

Well. That wasn’t quite true. 

Two-Bit grinning lopsidedly when sharing a bed with Darry. “Don’t try and play cornhole or nothing, y’hear? I know what you football guys get up to.”

Soda, describing a man who had come into the DX. “Total flamer. I mean, real light in the loafers if you know what I mean.”

Steve mocking Soda for his grooming in the mirror. “Alright, Mary, give somebody else a turn.”

Dally recounting a stint in prison. “One night, this punk got beat to shit ‘cause he was looking in the showers.”

And those were just small instances. It was near constant, the same as teasing each other for being girls or nerds or dirty Greasers or wanna-be Socs. All this time, had it been hurting Pony? Making him feel like the gang wouldn’t love him if he were homosexual? 

Would they? 

Darry would. He did. He loved Ponyboy so much it ached, like maybe it would overflow and flood the room. 

He tried to imagine the gang turning on Pony. Dally, who had grown closer with Ponyboy in the last year than Darry ever would have expected. Johnny, who was kinder than any of them and loved Ponyboy to death on top of it. Soda, who defended Pony to the ends of the earth, no matter what. Two-Bit, who made it no secret that he thought of Ponyboy as a little brother and was fiercely protective to show it. Even Steve, who had gone softer on Pony since the fire and had nearly beaten a guy’s head in just the other day for the kid. 

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t picture any of them abandoning Ponyboy. 

But he knew that didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen. What would he do? 

Pony’s gaze was imploring, begging even. Darry knew he couldn’t possibly deny the boy this.

“Of course I will, honey.” 

Pony hummed contentedly, settling back against Darry’s chest. Darry tried to indulge in the time with his growing little brother, but dread had settled in his stomach. 

<p align=center>—✯—</p>

Darry wasn’t sure how he’d ended up here. 

Well, that wasn’t true. He’d gotten in his truck after work, and instead of going home, he’d driven to Gene’s Bamboo Lounge. But he didn’t really remember making the decision. Just that he’d suddenly pulled into the parking lot, sure he needed to talk to Coppa. 

Being a Monday evening rather than a Saturday night, it was quieter and less crowded than it had been on Saturday. The sun set above it, and for a moment, it could have been pretty. 

But then, Darry remembered why he was there and it went back to being rather nightmarish.

He pushed open the doors of the lounge, glancing around. This time, it was easier to actually look around, considering the crowd was probably halved. It seemed like a typical bar, all dim lights and wood panelling. The only difference was the people inside. There were still very few women. Darry wondered if homosexual women got their own bar, or if they had to hang out elsewhere. Maybe there were just this many homosexual men. What did he know? Some of the men around seemed to still be in their clothes from work–suits and ties; uniforms for fast food restaurants; even what Darry could have sworn was a police outfit under a coat. It occurred to Darry for the first time, other than when Coppa had mentioned it, that these men were real people. Of course they were, but realizing that they didn’t just spend all their time in women’s clothing or having anal sex was a ridiculously surprising revelation. 

Darry wondered how many homosexuals he had known. If he saw those men in their work clothing at their jobs, he wouldn’t have batted an eye. Was it possible that someone at his job was homosexual?

He almost had to laugh at himself. He sounded like the people who were terrified that everyone they knew was secretly a communist. What would the homosexuals do to him? Ogle him to death?

“Darry!” Darry jumped as a hand landed on his arm. It was the blond man from Saturday–Sonny. 

Darry wasn’t sure he liked being known here, especially when being known seemed to result in people loudly shouting his name for all to hear.

“Couldn’t stay away, huh?” Sonny asked, grinning. None of the others seemed to be present this time. Darry wondered how often Sonny hung out here. 

“Er… I’m actually looking for-”

“Coppa again? Jeez, I didn’t think you were her type,” Sonny said. His eyes raked over Darry’s body in an appraising way. Darry wondered if this was how girls felt. “Well, maybe she has a thing for herself, huh? I mean, hell, you two are pretty similar looking. Other than the fact she’s a queen and you’ve got the whole bull queer thing going.”

“Uh… No, we aren’t-I’m not-” Darry cut himself off. “I’m not a homosexual.”

Sonny stared for a moment before bursting into laughter. “No, you aren’t, are you? I don’t know the last time I heard one of us say ‘homosexual’. You’re funny, Darry.”

“What do you say then?” Darry asked irritably.

Sonny grinned in a way that bizarrely reminded Darry of Two-Bit. “We’re gay.”

Darry didn’t care enough to argue that last time he checked, ‘gay’ meant ‘happy’. “Have you seen Coppa or not?”

“Uh-oh… trouble in paradise?” Sonny’s smile showed all his brilliantly white teeth. Darry wondered how long he brushed them each morning to make them so white. 

“We aren’t together!” Darry snapped.

Sonny raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, Darry. I’m terribly sorry to have offended you.” 

Darry had a feeling Sonny wasn’t being sincere. 

“She’s in the dressing room, same place as Saturday. You know how to get there or should I show you?” Sonny waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Darry wondered if Two-Bit had a blond, homosexual brother he didn’t know about. 

“I got it. Thanks.” Darry wove through the crowd of people, ignoring the several wolf whistles and one ass grab he received. 

The door was open when he arrived. Inside, a man sat in front of the mirror. 

“Excuse me,” Darry said. “Have you seen someone named Coppa?”

The man looked up, laughing. “Good to see you again, Darrel.”

Darry blinked, before realizing this was Coppa. He wore jeans and a wife-beater, looking like a man ready to settle into the couch with a beer and a football game. “Er… you too.”

“C’mon in,” Coppa said. “Shut the door for me.”

Darry hesitated, but did as asked. He didn’t think Coppa was dangerous. 

“Sit there so I can see you.” Coppa pointed at the stool next to him with a comb. As Darry sat, Coppa gave him an assessing look. “How’s Ponyboy?”

“He’s a homosexual,” Darry burst out. He hadn’t intended on saying it like that. 

Coppa just nodded. “I thought so.”

“How did you know?” Darry asked. He’d been around for the kid’s entire life, and never even had an inkling. 

Coppa smiled. “You get a feeling for it.”

Darry raised an eyebrow. 

Coppa chuckled wryly. “If I can make a good guess about who’s gay and who isn’t, I’m a lot less likely to get murdered. And now that I’m older and bigger, I can protect others too.”

The word ‘murdered’ hit Darry like a gut punch. “Does… does that happen often?”

Coppa’s face turned serious, eyes sad. He pointed up at a picture stuck to the mirror. It was a Polaroid, yellowing at the edges but carefully taken care of nonetheless. Smiling for the camera was a young man, maybe seventeen or eighteen. He reminded Darry of Dally, all sharp edges but sincere eyes.

“That’s Mike. He’s my best friend. He’s a little younger than me. I’ve always felt like I needed to protect him, but he’s pretty scrappy too. He and I have handled plenty of fights together. He’s gay too. He had this boyfriend, Dennis, and they were real cute together. You would never have been able to tell they were together in public, but when we were hanging out at home, they were so in love you could barely stand it.” 

Darry stared at Mike’s picture. The man could have fit in with his gang easily. 

“Anyway,” Coppa said, getting to his feet and walking over to a rack against the wall. He began to move clothes around, picking up dresses here and there. “Dennis got shot in the head in Mike’s car. The guys who did it grabbed Mike out of the car and tied him to the back of their truck with a chain. Dragged him two miles. His body was so beat up his parents couldn’t look at  him to identify him. I had to go in there and do it.”

Darry stared for a moment. The words had come out so casually that Darry almost didn’t believe them. But he saw the tension in Coppa’s shoulders and recognized it. He knew he himself had that same tension any time he spoke of his parents’ deaths, the fire, Johnny’s injuries, or Dally being shot. 

“I’m… fuck, I’m sorry,” Darry breathed.

Coppa gave him a sardonic smile before disappearing behind a folding screen. “So am I. He was like a brother to me. He was nineteen. I was twenty. It’s been six years.” 

He reappeared, having changed into a floor-length blue gown. Somehow, he had given himself the illusion of breasts. 

“Zip this for me, wouldja?” Darry hesitantly pulled the zipper up. 

The sudden image of Two-Bit’s birthday cake, nineteen candles on top, flooded his mind. He couldn’t imagine losing Two-Bit, his best friend, in such a way. He’d nearly lost Dally and Johnny, and that had been horrific. But the cruelty of what had happened to Coppa’s friend… 

Coppa sat back down. “My daytime name is Reggie, by the way.”

Darry watched the person in front of him for a moment. “What do you prefer?” 

Coppa glanced at him, smile warm. “Well, usually, if the wig is on its Coppa. Coppa Feel, that is.” 

Darry blinked. “What?”

Coppa laughed. “My drag name is Coppa Feel. Two words.”

“Drag name?”

“Oh, kid,” Coppa said. “You really don’t know anything, do you?”

Darry would have liked to dispute that, but unfortunately, it was true. 

“What you might call female impersonation, we call drag. I’m a drag queen,” Coppa said. There was an air of pride. It sounded like how Darry spoke of a particularly strong day at work. “In my regular life, I’m Firefighter Reggie McNair. But here, you can call me Coppa.”

Darry nodded. He could do that.

“Why did you come here tonight, Darrel?” Coppa asked. 

“Er… as long as we’re sharing names, most people call me Darry.” 

Coppa grinned. “Alright. Darry it is. Why did you come here, Darry?” 

“I don’t know what to do,” Darry said before he could stop himself. “I have no idea about any of this, and now my baby brother is homosexual, and I don’t know how to keep him safe and happy at the same time.” To his horror, his words choked off at the end, a lump rising in his throat. He quickly tried to rein in the tears threatening to spill.

“Oh, kid,” Coppa said. “The fact that you’re here means a whole lot.”

Something inside of Darry broke. Before he could stop it, a shuddering gasp had torn out of him. He wanted so badly to help Ponyboy. He couldn’t stand the idea of his baby brother being miserable, nor could he stand the idea of the kid being in danger. 

Strong arms wrapped gently around him. It should have felt odd, knowing he was being embraced by a cross-dressing homosexual. But instead, once more and equally as strange, it reminded him of his mother. Darry melted into Coppa, face resting against… her shoulder. 

“Your brother adores you,” Coppa said softly. “I wouldn’t have said a thing if I thought you would do anything less than what Ponyboy needs.”

“But I don’t know what he needs,” Darry murmured morosely. 

“Yes, you do,” Coppa said. Her hand rested on his shoulder blades like a tether. It was nice. “You’re doing it now. I think you came here to find out everything you could so you could know what Ponyboy needs. That’s the best thing you can do.”

Darry covered his mouth with a shaking hand, forehead still pressed to Coppa’s strong shoulder. A distinctly unmanly cry tore out of him. With just a few sentences, Coppa had managed to address his deepest insecurity: that he wasn’t enough for his brothers. It felt like a weight had been lifted. 

Finally, Darry gathered himself. He pulled away from Coppa, who gave him a kind smile and turned to the mirror, picking up a makeup brush. Darry watched silently for a moment as she applied a skin-colored cream to her face. 

“What do I do for him?” 

Coppa hummed. “Well, you’ve done the most important thing: accept him. That’s more than most people do.”

Darry sighed. “Okay. Then what?”

Coppa chuckled. She dipped a new brush into a dark powder, drawing it in lines across her face. As she spoke, she dabbed at it with a sponge, making it melt into her skin until it looked natural. “Then, you act like normal. You still tease him, you still make him do his chores. Don’t change how you act just because of this. And if he asks you for help, then help him. The same you would if he were straight. If he has relationship problems, talk to him the same as you would if he were dating a girl.”

Darry blinked. It sounded so simple, coming from her. “That’s it?”

“We aren’t mythical creatures, Darry,” Coppa said blandly. “Oh. Do remind him to use condoms and wash carefully.”

Darry felt his eyes go wide. “Oh, God.”

So, Coppa gave him a very different version of the birds and the bees (birds and birds? Bees and bees?), which he dreaded going home and telling Ponyboy. By the time Coppa had thoroughly traumatized him, she was transformed. Even knowing that under it all, she was a man, Darry still had trouble recognizing it. 

“Get home to your brother, kid,” Coppa said, rising elegantly. 

“Thank you,” Darry said earnestly. Before he could change his mind, he threw his arms around her. She gave him a tight squeeze back, reminding him that she had a firefighter’s muscles. 

“Of course,” she said. “Stop by and see the show sometime, alright?”

Darry grinned. Maybe he would. 

“Oh, and here are my numbers. The top one is here, a direct line to the dressing room. If I don’t answer here, call the other one. If I don’t answer that, leave a message.” Darry took the offered card and escorted himself out of the club. On his way out, Sonny waved. Darry returned the gesture, nodding in the man’s direction.

—✯—

It took another week for him to get everyone in one room, except for Ponyboy and Johnny. 

Ponyboy had decided he wanted to tell Johnny himself. Darry figured that was smart. Johnny loved Ponyboy more than just about anything, and of all of them, Darry was the least worried about his reaction. He could already picture Johnny’s easygoing shrug and “Okay”. 

Darry had called Coppa five times with questions. Sometimes Reggie answered. One question devolved into ten, and the call usually ended because she (or he) either had to go on stage or to a fire. 

Johnny and Ponyboy had left for a walk five minutes ago. Darry had asked three times now for the other four to come sit down. Of course, Two-Bit wanted a beer. Then the minute he sat down, Dally got cold and went to get his jacket. Then, when he got back, Steve and Soda both decided they wanted a bowl of chips, and then promptly spilled those chips all over the floor. 

“For fuck’s sake, sit down!” Darry snapped. He could admit he was tense. He might have been more nervous than Ponyboy was. 

That wasn’t true, but he was pretty sure they were at least tied.

“Jesus, what crawled up your ass and died, Muscles?” Dally asked, slouched in the armchair. 

Darry glanced between each of his boys. He was struggling to reconcile the boys he’d grown up with, his family, with people who might be a danger to his baby brother. 

“Dar, you’re making me nervous,” Soda said, chuckling anxiously. “We’re all here, so it's not like anyone’s dead, right?”

Darry sighed, holding eye contact with his brother. Slowly, he sat down on the edge of the coffee table, knee bumping into Two-Bit’s. 

“No one’s dead,” Darry said. 

“Well, that’s a plus,” Steve said dryly. 

“Are we in trouble?” Soda asked. Despite being nearly eighteen, it was said with all the concern of a child. 

Darry sighed. “Should you be?”

The boys looked amongst themselves. “Probably.”

Darry pinched the bridge of his nose. “We can deal with that later. You’re not in trouble yet. I need to talk to you guys about Ponyboy.”

Tension fell over the room. Everyone had grown protective over Ponyboy since the fire. 

“What’s wrong?” Two-Bit asked, bravest of them all.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Darry began. He wasn’t sure they would agree, but he wanted to make his own stance clear. “It’s just something you need to know.”

“Oh, God, did he knock someone up?” Soda gasped.

Steve snorted. “Yeah, right. Have you ever seen him with a girl?” 

A borderline-hysterical laugh spilled from Darry’s lips. He clamped his mouth shut, but not before the others noticed. All four of them stared at him, mouth agape.

“Did he knock someone up?” Dally asked. 

Darry couldn’t help it. The four boys in front of him all looked so shocked, and they didn’t even actually know what was going on. More laughter escaped. He covered his mouth, trying to calm himself. He knew it was nerves–he’d always been a nervous laugher. At his own grandmother’s funeral, he’d had to step out because he couldn’t get himself under control. 

“Darry, what is going on?” Soda pressed. “You’re really freaking me out here.”

Darry gulped in air, letting it out slowly. He steeled himself, trying his best to sink into the Superman persona. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, finally making eye contact again. “Ponyboy’s homosexual.”

The room froze for a second before Steve and Two-Bit burst out laughing. Darry glanced at the two silent ones. Soda looked some state between mortified and afraid. Dally’s face was stony, unable to be read even by Darry, who was well-versed in Dally’s various icy expressions. 

Slowly, Steve stopped laughing. As he looked around and realized the others weren’t chuckling with him, his grin faded. He elbowed Two-Bit in the ribs.

“Ow! What?” Two-Bit made eye contact with Darry. 

Two-Bit, who could read Darry like a book. His best friend.

“Oh, shit,” Two-Bit murmured. 

Darry couldn’t tell what his friend was thinking. Any of them, in fact. 

“How do you know?” Dally asked lowly. His voice was hard as ice, the one that still managed to make Darry uneasy after all these years. “That’s a pretty strong accusation to be throwing out there.”

Darry swallowed. “It’s not an accusation. It’s the truth. He told me himself.”

It felt for a moment like no one in the room dared even take a breath. 

“He… told you?” Soda asked, so quietly Darry could barely understand him. 

“Then why isn’t he telling us?” Dally demanded. 

“Hang on, what the hell do you mean? He’s Ponyboy! He ain’t a fag-”

Darry had decked Two-Bit before he could even finish the sentence. It was an awkward hit; neither of their positions were really meant for it. Nonetheless, he managed to knock Two-Bit off the couch and onto the floor. 

It felt a bit like Darry was being split apart. He’d backed Two-Bit in more fights than he could count. Everyone knew that messing with one of them meant messing with both of them. 

Except Darry couldn’t back Two-Bit now. How was he supposed to fight back against himself?

He heard shouting, muffled under the blood rushing in his ears. Finally, hands landed on his arms, pulling him backwards. Off of Two-Bit. 

He knew it was Dally who had grabbed him. The grip on his left arm was looser, a result of one of the gunshots. Dally would never regain full strength in his left arm. It wasn’t noticeable usually. Except, apparently, when he was dragging someone. 

The shouting continued. Darry realized it was Soda, yelling at Two-Bit. Two still sat on the floor, a hand over his nose. Darry could see blood flowing underneath it. Darry had done that. 

It wasn’t anywhere near the first time he and Two-Bit had tousled. As kids, they’d beaten each other up any chance they got. This felt different, though. 

His hearing came back to him finally. 

“It doesn’t matter what he is! He’s still Ponyboy!” Soda shouted. Darry could hear the waver in his voice, and he wondered if maybe Soda was telling himself the same thing. 

“Alright, alright.” Dally let Darry go, stepping in between Soda and Two-Bit. He glanced down at Two, who had not gotten off the floor. “Go deal with your nose.” Two-Bit scrambled to his feet, stalking off towards the bathroom and slamming the door. 

“Asshole!” Soda called after him. 

Dally put a hand on Soda’s chest. “Knock it off. You know he didn’t mean it like that.”

Darry felt an odd swell of pride at Dally’s diplomacy. 

“Dally-” 

“Soda,” Dally said firmly. “Look me in the eye and tell me you weren’t thinking the same thing.” Soda opened his mouth, but Dally held up a finger. “You may have left out some words, but the thought was there. Yes?”

Soda floundered for a moment before nodding shamefully. 

“Okay. And we all know Two-Bit talks before his brain even finishes the thought. So…” He glanced at Darry pointedly. “Let's let him explain himself before we overreact, hm?”

Everyone agreed, Steve included, even though he hadn’t done anything. Dally knocked on the bathroom door, opening it after a few seconds. Darry couldn’t hear what was said, but Two-Bit followed Dally back to the living room. He was holding a washcloth to his nose, but Darry could already see that it was broken. Usually, he was the one to reset things like that.

Was he allowed to do it when he was the one who caused it?

“Take it back,” Dally said. 

Two-Bit looked around for a second, avoiding eye contact. But quickly, he dropped the washcloth and burst out, “I didn’t mean it like that! I was just surprised. I-” He cut himself off. Darry could see his eyes watering, and he wondered whether it was due to his nose or true emotion. “I don’t care if he’s queer. I just-I was just surprised. I’m sorry.” He trailed off meekly, looking horribly downtrodden. It stirred up a sick feeling in Darry. 

Darry crossed the room, clapping a hand on Two-Bit’s shoulder. His friend looked at him with anxiety, purple blooming under his eyes. “It’s alright.” He thought. “Well, no, it ain’t. But it will be.”

Two-Bit nodded, swallowing harshly. 

Darry sighed. “Let me reset that.”

Two-Bit flinched away. Darry tried not to take it personally–getting a bone reset hurt like a bitch. Two-Bit lay down on the couch nonetheless. Darry sat on the coffee table once again, gently reaching to his friend’s face. As he did so, he began to speak. “He’s terrified. Of us being angry at him.” 

Behind him, he heard Soda make a strangled sound. Darry took the opportunity to crack Two-Bit’s nose back into place. It was always better to do it with no warning–Two-Bit worked himself up otherwise. As it was, Two-Bit let out a muffled grunt but kept it calm. His eyes watered, but that was normal with nose injuries. Dally appeared over his shoulder with ice, which Darry insisted on holding to Two-Bit’s face. He’d caused the injury; he might as well be the one with the tired arm. 

“So here’s what we’re going to do,” Darry said. 

He felt calmer. Fighting with Two-Bit, unfortunately, had been the adrenaline release he needed. He could focus now. He was Superman. 

“If you have a problem with it, you have two options. Option one: hide it. I don’t wanna know, and Ponyboy certainly shouldn’t. Option two: get out. If you can’t help yourself, leave. You don’t have to be around it, but this is Pony’s home. He deserves to feel safe here. You understand?” 

He glanced around. Everyone nodded, even Two-Bit. 

“Anyone leaving?” 

No one moved. 

“Good. Now, if you have questions or comments, you’re going to say it now. You will not interrogate Pony, am I clear?” 

Another round of nodding.

“Alright. I know y’all have things to say. Say it now or forever hold your peace.”

There was silence for a moment. Slowly, Steve raised his hand. “Fine. I’ll be the one to say it: What do we do if he starts… y’know?”

Darry raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know.”

Steve sighed, looking around as if searching for support. “What if he turns into a pansy? Starts taking it in the back door like a chick?”

“Is he a pansy now?” Dally asked before Darry could speak.

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Well, no…”

“Hang on.” Dally put a hand up. “Do you think he turned queer? Like, he woke up this morning and just decided? Because if that isn’t what you think, then why the hell would he start acting like a sissy now? He’s tuff. He’s been tuff. That ain’t gonna change just ‘cause he wants to score with a dude and not a chick.”

“Really, Dally?” Steve spat. “You’re going to try and be all high and mighty about this? I thought you, of all people, would be on my side here.”

Dally cocked an eyebrow dangerously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Steve hesitated. “I just mean that you-”

Dally straightened his back, suddenly looming over Steve. “I what?”

Steve rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up. “Never-fucking-mind.”

“That’s what I thought,” Dally said, sinking back in the armchair. 

Steve crossed his arms, looking a bit like a petulant child. Darry had to admit, he had also been sure that Dally was the one to worry about here. Between Dally’s stays in prison, his general distaste for anything considered feminine, and his brashness regarding just about everything, Darry had every reason to believe Dally would be vehemently against it. But here they were.

“Darry?” Soda asked tentatively after a moment. 

“Hm?” 

“Er… It’s illegal. Being… homosexual.”

Darry sighed. He’d read up on it and discussed it with Coppa. It was… complicated. “Sort of. Technically, homosexuality isn’t a crime. The crime is sodomy.”

“So, taking it up the ass?” Two-Bit asked. He was muffled beneath the ice pack and the swelling of his nose, but still, unfortunately, audible. 

Darry resisted a groan. “Yes. And sometimes… other stuff.”

“He means oral,” Dally added helpfully. 

“Then why aren’t I in jail?” Two-Bit asked.

Darry really did groan that time. He did manage to resist the urge to suffocate Two-Bit with the ice pack. “Because they don’t enforce it for us. They only use it to put homosexuals in jail.” 

“Then why don’t they just make being homosexual illegal?” Steve questioned, apparently done throwing a fit. 

“I don’t know. I didn’t do it,” Darry said. “That’s not the point. The point is that being homosexual isn’t illegal.”

“But homosexual sex is,” Soda said slowly. 

“Yes,” Darry and Dally said at the same time, with equal levels of exasperation. 

“So… as long as no sex happens, Ponyboy is in the clear?”

Dally snorted. “He’s sixteen. It’s a miracle he’s waited this long.”

Darry had no desire to hear this. “He’s a child.”

“You were fifteen,” Two-Bit chimed in. Everyone was being so helpful.

“Okay, let’s move on,” Darry said. He did add a little bit of pressure to the ice pack, just for a moment. On accident. Probably.

“How do we…?” Soda trailed off. Darry was pretty sure he knew what the kid meant though, because Darry had wondered the same thing.

“We treat him like normal. Like Dally said, he’s still Ponyboy. Nothing has really changed, other than that we know.” Darry made eye contact with each of them, hoping to make his point. “He doesn’t want special treatment. He just wants to know we don’t hate him.”

Soda drew himself up, shoulders back and head high. Darry smiled. It was the same way Darry steeled himself to be Superman. “We can do that.”

Two-Bit nodded under Darry’s hand. Soda elbowed Steve, who groaned before saying, “I guess.”

Dally jumped to his feet. “Steve. A word.”

Before Darry could process it, Dally had hauled Steve up and out to the porch. Cunning as always, Dally was smart enough to drag Steve out of eyeshot of the window. Darry couldn’t hear yelling, which might have actually been a bad thing. A quietly angry Dally was far more dangerous than a loud one. 

“Is Pony telling Johnny?” Soda asked. Darry looked away from the window, down to his little brother. Soda looked so determined, despite the anxiety in his eyes. 

Darry smiled softly. “Yep.”

Soda frowned. “Why was he scared to tell us?” 

Darry knew that Soda was asking why Pony was scared to tell him. Ponyboy told Soda everything. 

But, realistically, that might have been why Pony was so afraid. He was worried that this was one secret too big for Soda to keep. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing his confidante. 

“He didn’t want you to be angry at him,” Darry said honestly. Soda opened his mouth to protest, but Darry stopped him. “Honey, I’m not accusing you. Put yourself in his shoes. Wouldn’t you be afraid?”

Soda frowned, staring at his lap for a moment. Finally, he nodded. “I guess.”

Before Darry could say anything else, the door opened and Steve and Dally re-entered the house. Steve’s face was redder than Darry had ever seen it, while Dally looked cool as a cucumber. Steve threw himself down next to Soda, drawing his knees up and resting his chin on them. Darry took back what he said earlier–now Steve looked like a petulant child. 

Darry glanced at the clock. “Alright, Pony and Johnny’ll be back soon. If you guys have any more questions, ask me in private, savvy?” He thought for a moment. “And seriously, don’t think about it too hard. Nothing has changed. Not really.”

Sure enough, not long after Two-Bit turned the TV (a consolation prize for his injured nose) on the door opened. Johnny came through the door first. Darry held his breath. He had been sure Johnny would be the least concerning, but Dally had shocked him. Maybe Johnny would too. 

Johnny didn’t look upset. In fact, he had a soft smile on his face as he held the door open.

And there was Pony. His face was red, surely from crying, but he didn’t seem hurt. He grinned at Johnny as he walked through the door. Darry felt relief wash over him. Everyone was okay. No one was angry.

Then, as Pony looked around the room, his smile dropped. Immediately, it was replaced by a look of intense anxiety. Johnny immediately appeared at Pony’s side, a hand on his shoulder. He blocked Pony’s view of the others for a moment, whispering something Darry couldn’t hear. As the two broke apart, Dally snapped his fingers.

“Pone, sit down.” Dally nodded at the empty space by Two-Bit’s curled up legs. Steve and Soda still sat on the floor, unwilling to squeeze onto the couch with the prone Two-Bit. Pony swallowed harshly, but did as Dally asked. Darry caught Dally’s eyes, raising an eyebrow in a silent question. Dally waved him off as Johnny perched on the arm of the sofa next to Pony, hand steady between Pony’s shoulder blades. “Look at me.”

Ponyboy, who had been staring at the floor as if it had suddenly grown a head rather than being the exact same rug that had been there as long as he’d been alive, looked up tentatively. From his recliner, Darry could see that Pony was shaking. He ached to comfort his brother, but he had a feeling Dally would bite his head off for interrupting. 

“We don’t give a shit,” Dally said plainly. 

Soda choked on his Pepsi, sputtering. Steve pounded him on the back. Darry sighed. Maybe he should have taken the whooping from Dally for interrupting. Ponyboy’s face dropped the anxiety, replaced by utter surprise and confusion. 

“If you’re queer, that’s fine. It ain’t a big deal. You’re still the tuffest little shit I’ve ever met.” 

Underneath the Dally-isms, Darry was pretty sure it was one of the sweetest things he’d ever heard. He saw Pony’s lip trembling, but the kid was laughing. Progress.

Soda seemed unable to restrain himself any longer, bouncing up as if on springs and kneeling in front of Pony. He took one of Pony’s hands, the other going to rest on Pony’s cheek. “Oh, baby, you could have told us.” 

Pony’s expression wavered. Darry could see how hard the kid was fighting to keep from crying. “I… I didn’t want you to be mad.”

Soda had evidently lost the battle with his own tears, because they were streaming down his face. Dally rolled his eyes over Soda’s head, slumping back into the armchair. 

“Honey, I’m so sorry you were so scared. I’m so sorry.” Soda gave a watery, apologetic smile, opening his arms. 

Ponyboy hesitated, before falling forward. Darry could hear the weeping coming from both his brothers as they leaned on each other. It dredged up the most conflicting feeling he’d ever had, a mix of jealousy, sadness, bitterness, adoration, love, and anger at the world–at himself. He tried his best to push away the negative, focusing on how much he cared for his family. All of them, not just Soda and Ponyboy. He couldn’t have possibly asked for better friends. 

Two-Bit proved this point next. 

The moment Soda let go of Ponyboy, Two-Bit swooped in. He looked awful, nose and eyes bruised badly. He was surely in pain, but he evidently didn’t care. He held Ponyboy’s face in his hands, looking at Pony like something precious (as Darry was wont to agree). 

“We love you. You know that, right?” 

Ponyboy’s face contorted, as if he was caught between a smile and a sob. Two-Bit evidently couldn’t handle that, because he hauled Ponyboy into a far more crushing hug than Soda’s. Two-Bit was murmuring something into Pony’s hair, but Darry couldn’t make it out. 

After a while, Two-Bit allowed Ponyboy to escape. The kid didn’t seem to particularly want to, always happy to receive any affection he was given by any of the guys. Nonetheless, he pulled back, glancing around the room. His eyes landed on Steve, watching the man anxiously. 

Darry, too, watched Steve. He doubted Steve would pull anything–he had a feeling Dally had put the fear of God in him. But that didn’t mean he would go out of his way to reassure Pony either.

For a moment, the room was silent. Then, Steve looked around at everybody staring at him and sighed. “C’mon, kid.”

Steve clambered to his feet, opening the front door and gesturing for Pony to go through it. Darry eyed Dally, watching for any sign that Darry should be worried. But Dally remained where he was, face passive as ever. The door shut, and for a moment, Darry couldn’t see either of them.

 Until they appeared right in front of the window. 

Darry was sure Steve wasn’t thinking about the fact the gang could see them. He became even more sure of that fact when, after a few minutes, Steve pulled Ponyboy into a hug. It looked awkward, and Steve was horribly tense, but Ponyboy melted into it. After a second, Darry saw Pony’s shoulders begin to shake, and he assumed his brother had begun to cry again. But then, when the kid pulled away, Darry realized Pony was laughing. Ponyboy said something Darry couldn’t hear, and Steve smacked him around the head. It didn’t look hard though, and Ponyboy didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he socked Steve in the gut playfully. 

“Aw, are we fighting? I want in!” Two-Bit exclaimed, bolting out of the house, icepack abandoned. Darry rolled his eyes as Soda rushed out too. 

Johnny hesitated for a moment, before he, too, joined the others outside. Through the window, Darry could hear the sounds of a solid wrestling match going. He could have gone and horsed around with them, but truth be told, he was exhausted. He contemplated reclining and closing his eyes, but took a look at Dally and stopped himself. 

“Dal?” Dally’s eyes were far away, staring out the window but, Darry was sure, not seeing a thing. He got that way sometimes, but Darry wasn’t sure what could have caused it this time. 

Dally jumped a little, as if he’d forgotten Darry was there. “What?”

“You alright?” Darry asked tentatively. 

Dally snorted, returning to staring out the window. His eyes tracked something, surely one of the guys in the yard. “‘m fine.” He paused for a moment before speaking again, never looking at Darry. “You think the kid will be?”

Darry watched Dally for a second, before grinning fondly. “Are you worried, Dal?” 

Probably to Dally’s embarrassment, his cheeks tinged pink. “Not worried. Just…” He glared at Darry. “Fuck you, Curtis.”

In the past, Dally probably would have run out the door the moment Darry even asked if he was okay. But they’d all been through a lot this past year and things had changed. 

Darry stood, holding out a hand to Dally. Dally took it and allowed Darry to pull him up. Darry slung an arm around his shoulders, dragging them both towards the door. “He’ll be alright. He has six big brothers looking after him.”

The minute they walked out the door, Two-Bit pounced, dragging Darry into the fray. Dally joined Johnny on the porch, sharing the hard candies they’d both become borderline addicted to since their doctors banned smoking. 

In the setting sun, the whole neighborhood looked like it was made of gold. As he wrestled Two-Bit to the ground, he caught sight of Ponyboy, who was currently working with Steve to pin Soda. The kid was glowing in the orange light, looking less anxious than Darry could remember seeing him as a teenager. Darry grinned to himself. Everything would be alright.

Then Two-Bit decked him. “Now we’re even, dickhead!”

—✯—

The Curtis boys were an enigma to Coppa (and to Reggie, for the record). Coppa had never met a straight boy so determined to understand gay culture, nor had she ever met a gay boy so determined to prevent someone from understanding gay culture. 

Which was why it had been nearly six months since she met the Curtises, and she had yet to see them at a show. She and Darry talked often, usually as she got ready for a show or in between fire calls. He still asked questions constantly, although they edged into such specificity that even Coppa had no idea. Her friends had grown irritated with the kid without even speaking to him–she asked so many of his questions for him that they all just referred to him as ‘Nancy Drew’. She had informed Darry of this and told him how good of a drag name it would be for him, and she was pretty sure he might have seriously considered it. 

Either way, it was New Year’s Eve now. Luckily, she had the holiday off for the first time since she became a firefighter. Her coworkers had complained loudly. 

“Reg, how come you get the day off, huh? Got a hot date tonight?” 

“Of course he does! Girls are all over him at every call!”

If only they knew what she was really doing. 

Gene’s held a New Years show every year. It was pretty much the only party in Tulsa where gay people could kiss their lovers at midnight. Not that Coppa had one, at the moment. 

But Sonny Jackson was sure to be there… maybe this was her chance.

“You ready, Coppa?” LuLu asked, appearing in the doorway. Her long gown was sparkling, red sequins reflecting off her blonde wig. 

“Don’t I look ready?” Coppa asked dramatically.

“Oh, Lord, you’re in a mood tonight,” LuLu replied. Her lips curled up wickedly. “I saw that Jackson boy in the crowd.”

Coppa got to her feet, checking her reflection in the mirror. “Well, I’d better go give him a show then, hm?”

And she did. 

As she soaked in the applause, she caught Sonny’s eye. He grinned that lopsided smile, and she was determined tonight would be the night. 

Then, someone next to Sonny distracted her. 

Two someones, actually. And surrounding them had to be the rest of their ‘gang’, as Darry called them. She grinned at the group, waving just a little. 

They all waved back excitedly, except for Darry. Instead, Darry pointed subtly at Sonny before giving her a thumbs-up and a wide smile. 

The moment she was offstage, she was surrounded by seven children (nevermind that Darry was only a few days away from being 21), chattering and laughing. Darry kissed her cheek shyly, and before he pulled away, he whispered, “I don’t think you’re gonna be alone on New Years’.” 

She laughed, smacking his arm. “Darry Curtis, did you play wingman?”

Darry shrugged, looking extraordinarily proud of himself. “Turns out, it's a lot easier to get dudes interested in my friends.”  

“Coppa?” 

Sonny had broken through the crowd. For the first time that Coppa could ever remember, he looked nervous. 

“Enjoy the show?” she asked, trying to keep an air of casualty. 

“I always do,” Sonny replied. He glanced down at his wrist. “It’s almost midnight, y’know.”

“Is it really?”

Sonny gave her that trademark grin. “You waiting on anyone?”

“Just you.”

As the clock struck midnight, Coppa mostly focused on the fact she was getting her first New Years’ kiss in years. She was only a little distracted by the chorus of cheering from the group of boys next to her.