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The sunlight that spills out over the diner, highlighting the red in Ponyboy's hair as he eats, chomping on the bacon before moving to the pancakes. Dallas watches him as best as he can, trying to make sure that Ponyboy clears his plate more than anything.
The nurses had been clear to him in the clinic: Ponyboy needed to have food, vitamins, nutrients, and some place to stay that wasn't going to stress him out any further. Dallas had listened as best as he could, trying to steal a few pamphlets along with the wallets he'd been pressed to steal the moment the turned their eyes away from him. He figured that God wouldn't mind so much if he stole from them, given that he and Ponyboy are worse off than anyone with a job.
He doesn't eat much off of his plate, as he counts the money, looks at the few credit cards they have, and takes stock of everything. The hotel room had been a little less than ten dollars as soon as they'd seen Ponyboy was a pregnant omega, and the diner had been kind enough to discount their meal too. That ran them about twenty bucks all told, and he frowns at the amount they have as he finishes counting it. "We got about three-hundred, sixty-five dollars and fifty cents to work off of. If we're hitting up a hotel and it's about nine bucks a night, that's a little over a month. If there ain't shit else we gotta pay for, and we do."
"That's if we stay here," Ponyboy points out, dragging his sausage through syrup like he's thirteen and not about sixteen, by Dallas' guess. "We don't have to stay here. We can go anywhere we want."
Dallas sucks at his teeth as the waitress comes back to pour in more coffee into his cup. Her scent is nice, neutral enough and she's one of those who thinks that they're a married couple and not two runaways. They do at least look more like a married couple now that Dallas has jammed a class ring onto Ponyboy's hand, even if it's a little too big. Ponyboy figured he ought to give tit for tat, which is why Dallas has a grinning skull on one of his hands now. It's a nice replacement for the senior ring, making him look tuffer than most.
Their clothes are clean, look more like some Joe on the street and he hums once the waitress leaves. The jukebox is playing an old Elvis song that pushes into the latest Beatles song. It's not one he cares for, and Ponyboy clearly wrinkles his nose in distaste. "Wish they'd turn that off."
"Kid…. you really want us to get out of Tulsa? Oklahoma altogether?" Dallas raps on the counter with his knuckles, frowning. "Listen, I don't think it's a bad idea. Just — we can't be travelin' too long. You got a pup on the way in about six months. The doctor's said you need a place to rest, sooner than later." Dallas' gut twists, not sure how else to say it. "I ain't intendin' on lettin' you have our kid in the back of a car."
"We wouldn't be searching that long," Ponyboy wipes at his mouth, the expression sort of cute on his face. "I mean – how long did it take for you to pick Tulsa? I remember when you started hangin' around."
"I was almost twelve year old and I wasn't pregnant with no pups," he points out, "I was on my own. Didn't have no choice where I could go. You're smarter than me, bigger than me, and you got pups. You can't have those pups and not have a place for them. And I don't want want to just bum around and pick somewhere last minute and have it be shit. You and the pups both should be somewhere nice, where they can grow up good."
The words are – well, surprising the moment they leave his mouth. Ponyboy clearly is surprised by them himself with how his eyebrows lift and the fork halfway paused to his mouth. It has Dallas feeling defensive almost, that he had to point it out.
It's just the way things have to be though: if they wanted to be together, if they wanted to have pups, they couldn't just run around not doing things right. They had to find somewhere to go, have a plan of what to do. Figure out jobs and how to raise a kid.
Their kid.
That has Ponyboy putting his fork down, the childishness wiped from his face. The jukebox plays on, and he looks at the money Dallas has, and then looks back at Dallas. He's no fool; there had to have been times where Ponyboy has thought about this, about what it means to keep Shepard's pup. Maybe it didn't all feel real until now, maybe something about it had been missing a bit, in how he thought of the future.
Here and now, he has to really consider it, has to understand what they're doing and it has Ponyboy's face flushing, his ears turning red and with a panic, Dallas realizes he's about to start crying. Hastily, he tries to hold up his hands, only for Pony to say, "You said our kid. Our pup."
…What?
"Why wouldn't I?" Dallas asks, evidently not seeing the big deal. "I ain't see Tim up there helping you out! And he sure as hell wouldn't be someone willing to learn how to change a diaper."
That's about all the time he gets before Ponyboy has burst into tears and Dallas doesn't get why. He just tries to give Ponyboy napkins as fast as he can, swearing beneath his breath. They'd warned him that sometimes hormones made omegas kind of weird about emotions—this setting Ponyboy off is surprising to him.
Didn't that Kid know already? Know that Dallas chose them months ago?
Why would he be here otherwise?
Dallas almost say something out loud about it, and decides better of it when Ponyboy kisses him, mouth sticky with syrup. A sticky, sweet kiss is better than accidentally opening his mouth and ruining the moment.
It's only after Ponyboy has stopped crying, that he's gotten his face wiped off, and Dallas is on his third cup of coffee that he says, "Were you thinking of a place we could go? At all?"
Dallas shakes his head. "Not New York. Can't back there. Not Texas or anything like that, I hate the country."
"What?" Ponyboy asks in shock. "You hate the country?"
"You like the country?" Dallas pulls a face and somehow that makes Ponyboy let out a laugh that makes him look cuter than before. "I hate it. There ain't nothin' to do."
The jukebox changes songs again, Dallas shifting in the seat of the diner. There's no rush, he can see on Ponyboy's face, right now. Outside of the reformatory, he can see his freckles more, can see the soft glow that pregnancy is giving him, can see that Ponyboy looks a lot less like a hood and more like just — just the prettiest guy he's ever been with and not for the first time, Dallas wonders how the hell Tim decided he wasn't worth everything.
He's not going to make that mistake. Not now, not ever, as he glances behind Ponyboy. "We got two more days. And there's a map back there. We look at the map, we pick, and on Sunday, we get out of here. Deal?"
"I'll kiss you for it," Ponyboy grins, and Dallas happily obliges him.
Neither of them think about anyone missing them or coming after them. Neither of them think about the idea that people want them back in Tulsa. They just look towards the future together, and when Dallas steals a map, he tucks it into his pocket, and then grasps Ponyboy's soft, slightly sticky fingers as they walk back to the hotel together.