Actions

Work Header

im so cold, could you keep me warm?

Summary:

Its cold outside in Tulsa. Dally invites Johnny back to Buck's.

Notes:

IK how cringe the title is, OKAY? Its what I named it in my drafts and I couldn't think of anything else. ANYWAYS! I hope you like the fic!

Work Text:

The cold is bitter against your skin. You hate the cold, you hate everything of course, but the cold is one of the things you hate the most. It makes you feel like a shell, cold on the outside and on the inside. So that's why you’re rushing Johnny from the lot back to Bucks with you. You figure that he might not have the same reasons for hating the cold that you do, but it doesn’t really matter the reason. And the cold IS the reason why you’re taking him back to Buck’s. Not because you worry so much about those fucking assholes jumping him again, and definitely not because you miss his quiet voice and greased up fringe. You’re not a faggot. 

“I told ya, Dal. It's fine, I’m okay in the lot,” He grumbles from next to you. You don’t say anything back to him at first, but you take out your pack of cancer sticks and offer him one. He takes one and you speak, “You’re not gettin’ frost bite on my watch, kid.” You eventually sigh. Frostbite might be an over exaggeration, you’re in Oklahoma for christ sake, but the cold December air still gets to you. And to him, if the pink on his cheeks and the mist of his breath says anything. Johnny doesn’t say anything back though, and it's like that for a while. It's not the worst silence you’ve ever been in, you decide. But nothing ever seems to be the worst when Johnny's around for whatever reason.

 You both finally get to Bucks, and you can see Johnny trying to catch your eye, waiting for you to tell him to get lost. That doesn’t-wouldn’t ever- happen though. You guys both walk into Bucks, around the drunken people yelling over each other, and up the stairs. Johnny smiles and pets Buck’s dog walking by and if it makes you smile slightly and adore Johnny more, that's only because you’re not used to such kindness, not at Bucks anyway.

You close the old creaky door, throw your jacket on the floor, and watch Johnny stand in the middle of your room (as much of a middle you can get standing in a room as small as yours) not knowing what to do. You grin at him and mess up his hair. “What are you just gonna stand around all night?” You tease him. He rolls his eyes but gives you a small smile and you’re glad he’s here. You flop down onto your twin sized bed and rub your face. You feel the bed slowly dip in next to you and you look back at him. 

“Isn’t past your bedtime Johnnycake?” You snicker at him as he slowly takes his beaten up tennis shoes off and places them under your bed. “I didn’t know you even knew what a bedtime was, Dal, seems like you’re too cool for one.” He tries back. You chuckle as you haphazardly take your tennis shoes and greasy white t-shirt off. You pretend not to notice how he stares at you when you do so. 

You know that he looks at you. He looks at you in a way that you might’ve called ‘em a faggot right then and there. You don’t though, it’s Johnnycake, you would rather die than lay a finger on him. You don’t know why you feel this way about Johnny, you’re more bitter and colder than the frigid air outside. Maybe it's because you are almost certain that Johnny isn’t and will never be that way.

He finally sees you looking back at him, he quickly turns his head away from you. His dark face turns into a red sorta color and you grin at him. You push on his head with your palm as you sit down next to him (you always sit next to him nowadays). You try to catch his eye but he remains stubborn. You have to say something now, something interesting, preferably. 

“You know you should be colder than I am. I'm from New York, Johnnycake,” You suddenly say. Your face almost sours, Dallas Winston is above petty small talk about the weather. Still, though, he glances at you and chuckles. You feel a sort of relief, hearing his laugh. 

Now that you aren’t really thinking about Johnny you realize that you’re freezing and that you still don’t have a shirt on. You aren’t in the mood to go put a shirt back on, instead throwing the already messed up blanket over your shoulders. You’re tired too, you realize as you almost struggle to stay awake. 

“And you were saying it was past MY bedtime, huh, Dal?” Johnny teases softly, watching you. You can’t help but slightly smile at him. “That was in the past, Johnny.” You roll your eyes, “Now you just gonna watch me sleep or are you actually gonna lay down?” You punch his arm lightly. 

You try not to grin too much (as much as Dallas Winston COULD be, of course) when instead of flinching, he throws off his old denim jacket and sneakers and lays down next to you.

He is so close now. You move so he can use some of the blanket wrapped around your own shoulders. He moves closer to you, to get under the blanket with you. Your smile drops slightly as you see his big dark eyes start to droop as he looks at you. 

You don’t notice when you start to move closer to him, but you do. You are so close now that you can see every imperfection of his brown skin. You can see how his hair continues to fall over his eyes. 

You realize that you want to kiss him. You think that it's the most you’ve ever wanted anything in your whole life. For a second you panic. Dallas Winston isn’t a fucking queer. Dallas Winston is cold and bitter and doesn’t love anyone, especially a boy. Dallas Winston beats up dirty fags.  But Dallas Winston is also compulsive and dangerous and does whatever the fuck he wants. You know Johnny wouldn’t say anything if you just did it. He admires you.

“Dal?” You realize that you've been staring, and, fuck it. You just do it. You kiss him and you forget about who the fuck Dallas Winston is because you are so warm. You brush his hair out of his face and grab the sides of his face as you sit up slightly. 

You pull away, your hair falling around your face as you look at him with your lips pulled tight and your ears getting warmer. He just looks at you, quiet.

You let go of him and put your head in your hands, “I.. I’m sorry, Johnny.” You mutter. Still quiet. You hear shuffling beside you. “Dal,” You look at him and he kisses you. For a second you think it might be better than the first time, but it ends almost as quickly as it happened.. 

He gives you a tired smile and you smile back at him. You pull him into your arms. In the back of your mind you know that it won’t be this way in the morning, that this is going to change everything. But right now you’re warmer than you’ve ever been so you just pull him closer and fall asleep, thinking of nothing but him.