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The hallways were always crowded in between classes, between random kids rushing to get to their next class and friend groups stopping in the middle of walkways. Sometimes pairs of friends would walk slow whilst talking, or someone would drop all their books, or a Soc would purposefully shove a greaser kid who was somehow there (as most of them dropped out of school or were extremely held back) to get them all disoriented in the mess of it all. Ponyboy tried not to pay attention to it, yet still heard about it from Johnny if they were supposed to be doing partner work. They were in the same grade, only because Johnny got held back and Ponyboy was smart enough to go up a grade. That's all he practically used his head for, anything else, he was an idiot about. Besides that, the two often got separated in the one class they actually had together because they wouldn't stop talking or passing notes. One time, the teacher grabbed the note and almost read it out loud, but one of their handwritings was so bad that she gave up.
Sometimes, Ponyboy would find little notes in one of the books he carried, always folded neatly but containing silly messages.
Dally complained to me about having to third wheel again, do you think we should stop hanging out with him?
Or, even better.
You look like that one teddy bear you have on your desk today, I've seen it before, don't try and deny it!!!
They always seemed to make the day a little more manageable and lively. Except, recently, they had started to barely bring any joy despite lovey-dovey messages. People started noticing them holding hands in the hallways and nasty words bounced around, so they stopped holding hands. A pretty Soc girl mocked Ponyboy looking at Johnny during class, it wasn't that bad, but it still stung.
One day, it got really bad that Ponyboy called Darry in the nurse's office just to get picked up because he 'didn't feel good.' In reality, he just felt like he was about to cry every time someone looked at him and couldn't focus on anything.
Then, the signs started appearing and Johnny noticed before Ponyboy himself did. Constant zoning out, fidgeting, going back to old habits like biting his nails, constantly seeming tired, then one day he went back to being lively. That was abnormal, it was usually a gradual go back to the 'normal.' Then, after a week, he didn't show up to school for two days. Johnny felt lonely during those two days and tried to visit Ponyboy, not caring if he was sick because they had hung out multiple times when either of them was ill and nothing happened, but the front door was locked.
The front door to the Curtis house was never locked.
Dally was sort of the unofficial guardian for Johnny ever since his parents completely kicked him out, and also the same person who would give genuine garbage advice about relationships. Johnny still talked to him about everything that was going on, even if he didn't understand. They would sometimes talk about it whilst walking around, kicking up dirt or kicking rocks. The advice was useless, it sometimes consisted of talking or visiting him. Johnny never yelled at Dally, but the advice was the only time he got upset because it was so useless. He wouldn’t get it, he never had to deal with a melancholic boyfriend.
Never.
All three of them once went to the drive-in and Ponyboy remained silent the whole routine and didn’t even watch the movie, only rested his head on Johnny’s shoulder, jacket hood on, shaking from the cold wind. Johnny only rested his head against the other’s and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to hold him close. He worried a bit then.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“‘Love you too.”
They had that conversation a little before the movies ended and before they left. Johnny remembered the way Ponyboy slightly scooted his chair over so they could be closer. Even if there were other people around, it didn’t matter, the comfort was needed. Dally didn’t normally care, but as they were walking back to the familiar neighborhood with run-down houses, he asked Ponyboy if he was alright. It was kind of surprising, because his voice was quiet and worried, he never got like that. Johnny didn’t go to spend the night in the Curtis house that night.
He regretted it because he overheard Sodapop talking to Ponyboy about not purposefully injuring himself the next time he was hovering around the DX with Dally along with them. They always went there before the drive-in.
The next time Ponyboy was lively it disappeared in a matter of a couple hours during school. He didn’t tell Johnny why, just said it happened. Johnny had a feeling he wouldn’t know what had happened for a long time. It almost caused an argument, in fact, but knowing what happened last time, they didn’t continue on with it and talked about something else. They talked about a movie that Ponyboy liked that had Paul Newman in it.
“You look like Paul Newman.”
“No shit?”
Johnny mainly said that to make up for the fact he said Ponyboy looked like Burt Lancaster a few days ago. He sometimes wondered why the latter liked Paul Newman so much, or why he liked movies, or books. He liked it when he read a book to him, though, and Johnny sometimes forced Ponyboy to read books to him during these sort of times unless the latter was about to start bawling when the former asked. That didn’t happen, so at least he got to hear a lot of Great Expectations, even if Ponyboy had read it multiple times.
It suddenly got much worse when Ponyboy didn’t show up for school in three days. Teachers had started asking Johnny if he knew anything, but even then, he just shook his head. Then, it was the whole week. He was slightly panicked and more worried when he got to one of their shared classes and didn’t see Ponyboy anywhere in the classroom. He was even more worried when the end of the school day rolled around and he still wasn’t there. It was even worse when some kids found him about to cry.
“Cade’s missin’ Curtis again.”
“Awww, the puppy’s missin’ his boyfriend!”
Slurs after slurs and so much worse. Johnny bolted out of school because it got that bad. Maybe once or twice he wondered if he'd receive this same behavior if he liked a broad.
“Dallas.”
Johnny was at Buck’s front door, knowing Dally would be there. He always was. Buck had come to the front door first and Johnny demanded to see Dally, and it worked. He didn’t like being insistent, he wasn’t that good at it.
Dally sighed in exasperation when he saw Johnny. “What do you want? I was sleepin’, man, a man’s gotta rest up.”
“Sorry, Dal’. Do you have any money? I want to go hang out with Pony, and I want to bring snacks, and… yeah,” Johnny asked nervously. Dally stared at him blankly for a moment before rolling his eyes.
The door to the Curtis house rattled when it was opened. There was also a squeak from the hinges, and it always slammed if it wasn’t closed carefully or gently and instead just let go. Two-Bit never closed it gently, nor did Steve. Johnny did, the door was abused enough. A floorboard about three steps in always creaked, it would echo through the house if it was quiet enough, and if it was stepped on in the middle. It was surprisingly quiet for the first time, usually the house was filled with chaos and loudness. There was always a bag in the walkway, but it was scooted to the side, open and pushed over, papers spilling out like they were frantically searched through. Johnny kept his steps quiet as he walked to Ponyboy’s room, trying to make sure the bottle of Pepsi and the two candy bars wouldn’t drop and create a disruption. The door was open and there was a slight breeze, the window was probably cracked open a tad. A figure was curled up on the bed underneath piles of blankets and the faint noise of a pencil scratching paper echoed through the room, books scattered all over.
Johnny hesitated, shifting back and forth on his heels, his Converse creating a quiet tapping on the floor. “Ponyboy?” He called out, trying to keep his voice from shaking or being too quiet.
The pencil scratching stopped. Ponyboy turned over and sat up, his hair sticking up in a lot of directions. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept for at least a couple of days. He smiled brightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Johnnycakes!” He started moving books out of the way, stacking them before putting them on the floor gently on the side of the bed. “Fancy seein’ you here, what’s happenin’?”
Johnny offered a gentle smile and walked over after leaving his shoes near the door. “Nothin’, just wanted to make sure you’re alright. Got you a gift. What’s goin’ on with you?” He asked, sitting down beside him, handing him the Pepsi and one of the candy bars.
Ponyboy put the Pepsi and candy bar to the side on top of the books, pushing blankets off of himself. “Not much, thank you,” he muttered. He ran his hands up and down his arms, fidgeting with the short sleeves of his shirt occasionally.
“Are you… doin’ okay?” Johnny quietly asked, taking his hands so he’d stop fidgeting.
“‘Could be better,” Ponyboy admitted, running his thumb over the other’s knuckles. “Have I missed anything important?”
Johnny shook his head. “Naw, not really. Teachers keep asking me ‘bout you, ‘n’ Dal’s worryin’, I think he’s noticin’ I’m being affected by this,” he admitted.
“Oh.” A moment. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright.”
Silence fell over them before Ponyboy let go of Johnny’s hands then hugged him tightly, he then hid his face in the other’s shoulder. Johnny hugged him back, pressing his cheek to the side of his head. They sat like that for a bit before Johnny pulled away, letting Ponyboy rest his head on his shoulder still.
“What's really goin' on?” Johnny asked again.
Ponyboy let out a long exhale, sitting up. “Just can't find the energy to do anythin’, don't see the point.”
“Whaddya mean?” Johnny's eyebrows knitted together.
Ponyboy's smile dissolved into more of a melancholic expression as he picked at his nails. “What's the point of doin’ all this? Goin’ through school, pushin’ myself near to death just so I can leave this damn city, what's the point if it's– what's the point? I get hollered at for likin’ you, I get hollered at for not having good grades, I don't get it. It's just stupid, I don't like it one bit.”
Johnny didn't respond and only took Ponyboy’s hands again, not exactly knowing how to respond. The latter stared at him for a response but let out a long exhale when there wasn't one.
"What's that one poem you like?" Johnny tried.
"I'm not saying Robert Frost poems again," Ponyboy said shortly, looking out the window. "Surely you have it memorized?"
Johnny frowned. "Sure, but I like hearin' it from you," he mumbled. "Y'know, nothing gold can-"
"Johnnycakes, don't." Ponyboy sharply interrupted. "I don't want to hear that right now."
Johnny nodded and he looked down at the other's hands, noticing a few vibrant dots of graphite near the knuckles, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Dal' was wonderin' if you wanted to... just, walk 'round, I guess tomorrow. No movies." Ponyboy shook his head, mumbling something about not wanting to.
Yet another moment of silence. There was a bird chirping from outside. A cold wind gust went into the room, causing Ponyboy to shiver and then frown as he looked away from the window. Johnny offered his jacket, which was then rejected. They remained sitting in pure silence, holding hands.
"Soda found out that combining every colour in the rainbow makes brown this morning," Ponyboy mumbled.
Johnny cocked an eyebrow. "Ain't that common knowledge?"
Ponyboy couldn't help but smile. "Naw, 'guess if you're a drop out, you lose all smarts." He got the back of his hand pinched for that. "It tasted really gross."
"Did you eat brown breakfast?" Johnny asked, grinning.
"Took a bite and wanted to immediately reject it, if that counts." Ponyboy shrugged. "Haven't had much today, think that one bite of... whatever it was has been all I've had."
"Eat the candy bar I got you, man, c'mon," Johnny suggested, masking the sudden nagging feeling of worrying that arose.
Ponyboy's smile disappeared and he shook his head. "Too sweet, ain't tryin' to get fat."
Johnny let go of his hands, sighing. "Just eat it sometime, you dig?" Ponyboy nodded. "Right. What have you been workin' on? Can't be that fun cooped up in here."
"Drawing, mainly, I don't want to do school work," Ponyboy admitted, turning away to face the window. "I don't got any school work anyways."
"Could bring you some of mine so I don't get myself in trouble again," Johnny suggested.
"Naw, you do your work, I ain't doin' it for you," Ponyboy grinned, turning his head to look at him.
Johnny rolled his eyes, grabbing the other candy bar he brought and opening it, snapping off a small piece before eating it. Ponyboy looked away as soon as he did that.
It was a comfortable silence now, it had been uncomfortable for a little while. The crinkling of a wrapper was the only thing that disrupted it. Then the crinkling of a paper when Ponyboy grabbed the paper he had beside his bed. A chaotic sketch of the view outside the window.
"You're really talented," Johnny complimented.
"And you need to swallow before speaking with a mouth full of food, but thank you," Ponyboy whispered sassily despite the smile on his face and the tips of his ears going a little pink as he grabbed a pencil and started drawing again. Johnny hit his shoulder with the back of his hand. A wince. An apology.
An hour or thirty minutes could make a drastic difference, because now the drawing was pushed to the side and Ponyboy was laying across Johnny’s lap. The former was talking about something, but the latter wasn't listening. Johnny was more worrying about the fact that he had a feeling the other wasn't doing well. He knew he probably wasn't doing well. It was like he kept digging the hole deeper and deeper every day until he couldn't get out. Ponyboy stopped talking at one point and poked the other's chin. Johnny looked down at him, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"Johnny Appleseed, c'mon, I asked you somethin'," Ponyboy mumbled.
"Ain't my name, I'm not responding," Johnny shrugged.
Ponyboy grinned. "Pillow?"
"Not that either," Johnny looked up and still looked around the room. "Is that all you think of me?"
Ponyboy shook his head. "Naw, but you are a good pillow. How about... my bestest friend in the whole wide world?" He suggested. Johnny shook his head. “Second president, John Adams?”
"No. Pony, what's my name?" Johnny asked.
"...Johnny," Ponyboy rolled his eyes. "Would you still like me if I was a Soc?"
Johnny took a deep breath. "We've talked about this multiple times. No, probably not," he whispered.
"Awwwh," Ponyboy mumbled, pouting. "You hate me."
"I don't."
"You do."
That went back and forth for a little while longer until Johnny decided to stop responding. He knew that'd make Ponyboy upset, but he didn't particularly mind right now.
They lapsed into another silence after talking for a little while longer. Nothing disrupted it, just breathing or blankets rustling if Ponyboy moved a little. Johnny hadn't moved, he sort of couldn't either way, he didn't move because someone was laying across his legs and wouldn't get up. The other candy bar was also eaten, but the Pepsi remained unopened. Rare occurrence, since one of them was a total Pepsi addict.
Johnny felt his ankle go a little numb and fall asleep, so he forced Ponyboy to get off of his legs.
Thirty minutes passed, Ponyboy was draped across Johnny’s legs again and his eyes were shut, but out of nowhere his breath grew shaky and he sat up to hide his face from the other’s view. The air in the room changed, and the familiar feeling of worry overcame Johnny yet again.
"I think it might be good if... you leave, I don't know if Darry's going to like you over." Ponyboy said shakily before the other could ask if he was okay.
"What? Pony, no, I ain't leavin', you've always said Darrel is fine with me over," Johnny retorted, moving to be beside him and wrap an arm around his shoulders. "What's goin' on? C'mon, don't lie to me."
Ponyboy turned his head away from Johnny, shakily inhaling and exhaling, trying not to start bawling on the spot. "I feel like I ain't- no, I just think it's wise that you go, alright? I'm just gonna get worse, it's okay, though. I ain't good at feelings, I don't know how to help you understand."
"Try?" Johnny requested, smiling encouragingly. "That's what you've gone by, don't know, man, just try explainin'."
Silence for a moment. "I feel like I ain't enough, Johnnycakes, I'm not tuff like Darry or Soda, not gallant like Dally like you've said he is, I ain't a broad for you, I'm breakin' promises I didn't even know I promised to keep, I don't look like a greaser, I'm a kid, a tag-a-long, you know? Then my hair makes me look worse, and then when I look at myself, I don't wanna look anymore. My ears stick out, I look like a pansy sometimes," Ponyboy suddenly dumped out, pausing to make sure he didn't have a voice break here and there. He didn’t like sharing everything, but he only knew the other would keep interrogating him.
Johnny listened, his jaw tensing the more 'negative talk', as Dally would stupidly put it, was spewed. After the other stopped talking, he pulled him into a hug again. "Man, those are lies, you're tuff, I don't need a lady, 'got the best person I could've asked for, which is you. You just feel things different, you dig?"
"Sure," Ponyboy croaked out, keeping his hands in his lap. "Shoot, even if you tried, that doesn't help."
"Do I need to keep repeatin' it? Blast it, Pony, you gotta start understanding that you ain't just a kid, you're a grease. Tuff and talented at that, you're real good at everythin', why won't it become clear, man? You can’t keep doin’ this," Johnny muttered quietly, keeping his hug around Ponyboy gentle, trying to be encouraging. "Look, your hair's real cool, even if you ain't good with it, at least you ain't blond." Ponyboy let out a huff at that. "It's true! Blond didn't suit you. It really didn't. But that's alright, you're alright, we're alright. You dig?"
A beat. Ponyboy nodded and leaned into Johnny a little, but didn't move his hands or arms to return the hug. Johnny smiled and pressed a kiss into the top of his hair, which ignited a sudden, watery, and surprised laugh out of the other.
It was nice.
Real nice.
Darkness had filled the room, though a small stream of moonlight flooded the room when Ponyboy opened his eyes. He had fallen asleep in the middle of laying with Johnny. They were still hugging, but arms were loose. The front door slamming closed echoed through the house, and Sodapop's loud extra voice was bouncing off the walls. Ponyboy lifted his head a little, blinking to keep his eyes open and prevent the drowsiness he was feeling from overtaking again. He was a little cold, there were only two blankets on him. He didn't remember eating anything relating to dinner, just remembered a candy bar. He didn't remember really eating anything that day. Then, Darry yelling at Sodapop to shut up also bounced off the walls, yet he was still loud.
"Do we think Little Colt is sleepin'?"
“‘Cause of you, I don't think so anymore."
"Shoot, I ain't that loud!"
Ponyboy rolled his eyes and put his head back down before shutting his eyes. Heavy footsteps passed by the door, then turned around, and grew quieter. Johnny’s name was mentioned in a sentence. Ponyboy wanted to turn over, he had been tossing and turning for the past couple days, but he didn't want to cause sleep deprivation for anyone else. The talking was quieter now, but there were still a few words that could be made out. Details were fuzzy. Johnny stirred a little when Ponyboy shifted to get a little more comfortable, his head was close to the other's, he didn't want to wake up facing him.
"Sorry."
"'S alright. Why're ya up?"
"Soda's loud, 'n' the door's loud when it slams."
Johnny laughed a little at that. Ponyboy shushed him, frowning before his head was tucked under the other's chin. Footsteps passed by the door again. There wasn't any talking now. Johnny must've fallen asleep again after a few minutes, because he was relaxed again. Ponyboy remained awake until the darkness slowly grew a little lighter.
Hardly much sleep, because it was a couple of hours later when he woke up because of doors opening and slamming close again. He didn't lift his head this time, just opened his eyes, moving a blanket off of him and Johnny because he felt a little warm.
There was yelling after a few minutes.
“You'll wake everyone up, can y'all be a little more quiet?!"
"Naw, everyone's fine, it's like we're their alarms or somethin'."
"Well, stop it, not everyone wakes up at six in the goddamn morning."
"Who doesn't?"
Ponyboy wondered how Johnny was sleeping through it, maybe he was adjusted to the yelling, maybe he was able to sleep through it because he had to hear it a lot before. There was a sudden ringing in his ears and he grimaced, shifting a little, which only made Johnny wake up. Ponyboy opened his eyes and turned over on his back, letting go of the other. He felt cold immediately, and then he heard a laugh from Johnny.
“What’re you laughin’ about?” Ponyboy grumbled.
Johnny sat up a little, facing him still. “Your hair, man, it’s a mess,” he joked.
“Aw, shut up!” Ponyboy exclaimed, turning back on his side to glare at him, the tips of his ears turning a little pink. “You ain’t perfect lookin’ either. All I got is messy hair, it’s fine.”
“And you look like you haven’t slept in fifteen years,” Johnny added quietly.
Ponyboy sat up suddenly, looking down at him, suddenly offended. “You ain’t talkin’! At least I sleep better than you,” he said sharply, his face scrunching up.
Johnny started laughing again. Ponyboy tried not to smile, but failed, grinning from ear to ear. It felt nice, he hadn’t smiled like that in a little bit. Johnny noticed and he sat up fully, suddenly hugging him again, almost pushing him back down to lay down from the force of the hug. “‘Forgot to say, morning,” he mumbled before he pulled away.
Ponyboy was silent for a moment, staring at the other with wide eyes. “Good morning,” he stammered out, his eyebrows knitted together. His eyes relaxed, he sort of seemed to go back into his original state from yesterday.
Johnny noticed again and he frowned. “Pone, you can’t do this again, c’mon,” he whispered, not wanting the melancholic mood to affect the rest of the day.
Ponyboy didn’t respond. He glanced towards the door then let out a long sigh, deciding to cuddle up with the other again, his eyes closing. An arm circled around his waist, then a chin atop his head again. “‘M sorry about all of this, I don’t mean to act like total shit,” he whispered.
“It’s alright.”
“Thanks for comin’.”
“‘Course, I care about you.”
Ears turning a little pink. A scoff, then a laugh. For a little longer, there were a few head or (attempted) cheek kisses, and then sleeping again. Johnny left in the afternoon.
They would be alright. It took a while, but then Ponyboy turned out okay by the time Monday rolled around. Johnny was glad to see it, and almost tackled him in a hug when he saw him the morning of, but then had to help him because the homework got piled on thick.
They would be alright.