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The personality of a puppy that looked like it had been kicked too many times and a track book-nerd were a weird pair, but that's what Johnny Cade and Ponyboy Curtis were.
They were the closest and the youngest of the unofficial gang, led by Ponyboy's older brother, Darry. They were all greasers. The poor East-side jailbirds. They were all tough. Mainly the jailbird in the gang was Dallas Winston. Johnny and Ponyboy were close to him as well, but Darry tried to keep Ponyboy away from him. Bad influence, is what he'd always say. Except, Ponyboy hadn't committed any crime yet, so he didn't understand the bad influence part. The prettiest greaser in the gang was Sodapop Curtis, Darry and Ponyboy's middle brother. He was movie-star pretty. Girls always tried to flirt with him, and he took it gladly. He was closest to Steve Randle, which was an odd friendship, considering they were polar opposites. They worked together at a gasoline station.
Ponyboy didn’t like Steve. He was too… weird. He didn’t like Darry either. He was too mean. If he got a B, Darry wanted an A. If he got an A, he needed to ‘do better.’ What’s better than an A? Ponyboy didn’t know. It always made him feel shitty though. Maybe once or twice he cried himself to sleep over it. School was stressful sometimes. He couldn’t cry too loud, though. He shared a bedroom with Sodapop ever since their parents died. Ponyboy got too many nightmares from it.
Ponyboy and Johnny often spent time together in the lot, it was a wide empty field, sort of similar to a parking lot. It was a common hangout spot for the Curtis gang, they played football there sometimes. Johnny went there because he didn’t wanna hear his parents fighting. Ponyboy and Johnny went there after seeing movies at the drive-in. It’s also where the gang found Johnny after he got jumped by Socs. Ponyboy remembered Dally looking away, and he thought, why is he looking away? Hasn’t he seen a murder before? How is he sick from blood?
Every time they were in the lot, Ponyboy and Johnny would sit close. Ponyboy got cold. The night was cold. Sometimes, Johnny handed over his jacket, but hardly ever. He loved his jacket too much for that. It was like how Ponyboy protected his sketchbook from everyone. He didn’t really like his drawings, he only shared them with Johnny occasionally. He trusted Johnny wouldn’t judge him. They were comfortable enough with each other to share stuff they don’t share with others, like drawings, or talking about things that they’d be made fun of. They’d watch sunsets together. Ponyboy liked sunsets, Johnny did too.
Ponyboy was sitting at the desk in his and Sodapop’s room, holding his head up with his hand, doodling mindlessly on the side of his homework. He could see the reflection of himself in the picture frame that was in the corner of the desk. A family photo, parents and all three brothers. He looked up and stared at himself, frowning. He liked his hair, but not all that much. It wasn’t tuff, it was light brown, but he couldn’t grease his hair. Darry didn’t let him. Ponyboy didn’t like his eyes. They were green and light gray. He didn’t like green eyes. He huffed and looked back down at his homework, stuck on a math problem. He groaned and dropped his head onto the desk, slamming the pencil down. He was supposed to be smart, not suffering from simple problems. His mind was just elsewhere.
Maybe he was thinking about a close friend with black hair with hair too long that there were shaggy bangs covering his forehead, always wearing a jean jacket, and who always flinched at the sight of a blue mustang.
Ponyboy picked up his head, grimacing. He kept thinking about Johnny. It was annoying. The laughter, the casual conversations, stuff like that. He fixed his hair and picked up his pencil, going back to doing homework. Except, he couldn’t focus. He zoned out in the middle of solving an equation, tilting his head.
“Can we watch the sunset tonight?”
It was out of the blue. Ponyboy remembered it. They were walking around after school, they were silent.
“What?”
“I asked if you wanted to watch the sunset, man. We don’t have to–”
“No, no, that– that sounds fine.”
“Alright.”
They watched the sunset that night and sat close together, arms linked, Ponyboy’s head on Johnny’s shoulder. Normally, he would draw the sunset, but he didn’t that night. Johnny was comfortable, and Ponyboy wanted to be comfortable. He remembered the orange, the pink, and the yellow of the sunset, the way the sunlight fell on Johnny, and the way the breeze was nice enough for it to not be cold. He remembered Johnny elbowing him to wake up when the sun was fully set. Darry had wanted him to be home before it was fully dark out. Ponyboy didn’t wanna get up but reluctantly did and left after making sure Johnny was okay.
Homework.
That’s what Ponyboy was supposed to be doing, not thinking of sunsets. He continued writing, not caring it was sloppy and most likely wrong. He sped through the rest of it and threw the paper somewhere next to his bag. He threw it with a little more anger than necessary. He leaned back in his chair, chewing on his fingernails. He didn’t know why he did it, but it was out of habit when he was stressed or nervous. He didn’t even know why he was nervous, he didn’t know if he was stressed either. Maybe it was over if he actually liked Johnny. He didn’t think so, he liked Johnny as a friend, right? A wave of disgust washed over him, mainly at the thought of being a queer.
Ponyboy put his head in his hands, elbows on the desk, tapping his foot on the ground. He dropped his hands on the desk and put his chin on top of his hands. His posture was garbage. Darry and Sodapop had told him to fix his posture multiple times. It got annoying after a while, but their worries were something to think about. Ponyboy’s thoughts traveled again. English homework. It was due on Monday. He could do it Sunday, but if he does it Sunday, he’ll rush and it’ll look like crap. He could put it off for later. He drummed his nails on the desk, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. His mind drifted back to Johnny. He let out a frustrated noise and kicked the wall, pressing his forehead into his hands.
Ponyboy couldn’t like Johnny.
They were both boys. You can’t be like that.
Boys should like girls.
Just like how Sodapop likes Sandy. Not how Dally liked Sylvia, though. There were too many things wrong in that relationship.
Ponyboy sat up and sat criss cross, though it was a struggle since his chair wasn’t all that comfortable. He started chewing on his nails again. Johnny once caught him chewing on his nails and took his hands away from his mouth and held onto them, not linking fingers, though. Ponyboy remembered the hotness that spread over his face and he looked away.
“Don’t bite your nails, man, that’s dangerous.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize either.”
“...sorry.”
“What did I just say–”
Ponyboy apologized too often. It was all he said, according to Darry. Stayed out too late? Couldn’t go with Johnny and Dally anywhere for a whole week, only going to school and straight home. He was the most miserable during those weeks.
He came back to his senses and let out a curse when he accidentally bit down on his cuticles a little too hard. He grimaced and dropped his hands on the desk, frowning. He fidgeted a bit before getting up. He needed to walk. He fixed his jacket he was already wearing, then walked out of his and Sodapop’s bedroom and looked around the house.
“Darry?” Ponyboy called out. “I’m… gonna go out for a bit.” He didn’t receive a response. He frowned and walked out of the house, closing the door behind him.
It was cold. Ponyboy crossed his arms and started walking towards the lot. He didn’t know why, but he gravitated towards it. He looked behind himself sometimes, worried Socs would randomly pop up. When he got to the lot, he looked around. He didn’t see Johnny. He dropped his shoulders in disappointment. He continued walking around for about fifteen minutes before turning around and going back home.
Ponyboy didn’t get much sleep that night. He tossed and turned, accidentally kicked Sodapop once or twice, woke his older brother up three times, and apologized every time.
When Ponyboy woke up, the weekend had rolled around. He tried to go back to sleep but couldn’t. He gave up, got up, and got dressed. He could ask Darry if he could go out today and spend time with Dallas and Johnny, go to the drive-in, maybe. He walked out and into the living room, fidgeting with his fingers. Sodapop was sitting on the couch, eating cereal, Darry was sitting in his chair, reading the newspaper.
Ponyboy cleared his throat, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Darry, can I go–” he began.
“No,” Darry interrupted, not even looking up.
Ponyboy paused and tilted his head, furrowing his eyebrows. “I didn’t even finish my sentence.”
Darry shook his head, looking over at Ponyboy. “I don’t want you hangin’ around Dallas, he’s a jailbird.”
“Well, can I go hang with Johnny?” Ponyboy asked.
“Tonight,” Darry said.
Ponyboy frowned. Darry shrugged and looked back at his newspaper. Ponyboy looked at Sodapop, pleading for him to back him up. Sodapop shook his head. Ponyboy let out a frustrated groan and retreated back to his and Sodapop’s room, maybe he could catch up on some sleep, or finish unfinished drawings. He decided to finish drawings.
In the middle of coloring a bird, Sodapop walked in.
“Hey, Pone,” he said.
Ponyboy flinched and hid his sketchbook, looking up at Sodapop. “Hi.”
Sodapop walked over and sat down beside him, peeking over at the sketchbook. Ponyboy hid it away. Sodapop frowned. “Rude, but alright. What’s goin’ on?”
“Nothin’ much,” Ponyboy said.
“No broads you lookin’ at?” Sodapop asked.
Ponyboy paused, fidgeting with his pencil. He tilted his head, humming with a small smile. Sodapop arched an eyebrow. “Maybe, but I’m not gonna tell you,” Ponyboy said, looking over at his older brother. Sodapop ruffled his hair, sparking laughter out of him as he frantically tried to swat his hand away.
Sodapop stopped after a bit and fixed Ponyboy’s hair for him. “Well, tell me about her,” he demanded.
Ponyboy paused, thinking of Johnny again. He couldn’t tell Sodapop he thought he liked Johnny. He sighed and tilted his head back against the headboard. “Black hair, real pretty, tough, uhm… greaser too, I can’t pull Socs’,” he laughed.
Sodapop smiled and crossed his arms. “That’s cool, I’d say go for it,” he said.
“Naw, I can’t, I’m too nervous,” Ponyboy muttered, looking down at his sketchbook.
Sodapop looked down at Ponyboy’s hands and frowned. “I can tell.”
Ponyboy hesitated before speaking up again, “How’d you know you liked Sandy?”
Sodapop grimaced and looked away. It wasn’t a fun topic now. All Ponyboy knew is that she sent back a letter unopened after Sodapop sent it. She had moved to Florida. “I wanted to be ‘round her constantly, I don’t remember, rather not think ‘bout it, you dig?”
Ponyboy nodded, lifting his hand up to chew on his nails again. What if he told Johnny how he felt and then he got disgusted and then their friendship was lost to time? He felt a lump form in his throat. Why was he about to cry? Sodapop elbowing him brought him out of his thoughts. Ponyboy hummed and looked at him.
“Pony, you alright?”
“Mhm,” Ponyboy nodded, wiping his eyes.
Sodapop tilted his head. “You look like you're about to cry,” he said gently.
Ponyboy shook his head, curling up. “‘m fine, Soda, just emotional. Er– what do I do if I… if it fails, and I lose the small friendship I have with… her?” His voice shook a little. “I mean, like… she’s amazing– I don’t wanna lose a bond– and– and– I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been in– I guess– love, and it sucks!” He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away.
“Ponyboy–” Sodapop sat up straight, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Ponyboy broke down and put his face into his older brother’s shoulder, sobbing.
Ponyboy didn’t feel very good about himself all of a sudden. You don’t cry. It’s not tough, you don’t show strong emotions. Sodapop was more of the bawl baby in the family, not Ponyboy, but he assumed now he was, and it made him feel disgusted, weak as well. He was shaking from his sobs, almost like he was cold. Sodapop gently rocked him back and forth, which is what he did typically after Ponyboy had nightmares.
“I’m sorry,” Ponyboy whispered, his voice shaking.
Sodapop shook his head. “Nah, honey, you ain’t have anything to worry about. It’s a reasonable concern.”
Ponyboy pulled back, frantically wiping his eyes, but the tears didn’t stop. He felt overwhelmed. Sodapop rubbed his back, trying to comfort him. “You don’t have to ask that girl, y’know,” he reminded Ponyboy.
It wasn’t a girl, though. It wasn’t any girl. It was Johnny. Ponyboy wanted to cry again, he felt his lip tremble. He took a deep breath and nodded, wiping his eyes again. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he accepted another hug from Sodapop, tears still forming at the corner of his eyes.
Ponyboy felt tired, and now he knew, he did probably like Johnny in a romantic way. He still felt a disgust in the back of his mind, though, a nagging voice telling him it was wrong.
Ponyboy walked to the lot, hands in his jacket pockets. He didn’t feel too good. He had a headache, his eyes felt tired. The sun was getting close to setting. He saw Johnny sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree and he smiled, walking over to him.
“Johnnycakes,” Ponyboy called out.
Johnny flinched, relaxed, then grinned. “Hey, man,” he said. “Found a nice spot to watch the sun go down, this good?” Ponyboy sat down beside him and nodded, moving his sleeves over his hands. It was cold, again.
“Yeah, real good. What’s goin’ on?” Ponyboy asked, looking over at Johnny.
“Nothing, really, folks are fighting again,” Johnny muttered, frowning.
Ponyboy frowned and leaned on Johnny, putting his head on his shoulder. He pulled back after a second. He didn’t know what that was, but it was a way to show sympathy in Ponyboy’s eyes. The sky slowly changed colors. Ponyboy glanced over at Johnny and felt a smile tug at his lips before he looked away, pulling a piece of grass out of the ground.
“Pony,” Johnny said suddenly.
“Mmm?” Ponyboy hummed.
“You still watching the sunset?” Johnny asked, nudging him with his elbow.
Ponyboy nodded. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“You're not lookin’ at it, man,” Johnny snickered.
Ponyboy rolled his eyes and looked at the sky, tilting his head. He hesitated before deciding to lean on Johnny again, just like that one night. The sun set quickly, and then came the dark of the night. Ponyboy looked down at his hands and picked at his nails. Johnny looked over and took his hands, holding them. Ponyboy furrowed his eyebrows and looked over at him, frowning. He tried to pull his hands back but Johnny wouldn't let go.
Ponyboy gave up and relaxed, moving his fingers to link with Johnny's. “I should draw the sunset next time.”
Johnny looked at him and shrugged. “Your choice, you haven’t done that in a while, though, sure you'd be up to it?”
Ponyboy nodded, running his thumb over Johnny’s knuckles. “Your skin is dry–” he whispered, looking down.
“Jeez, man, I know,” Johnny mumbled. Ponyboy rested his head on his shoulder, looking up at the stars.
“Johnny?” Ponyboy asked.
Johnny turned to look at him. “What?”
“What do you think of those greaser girls at our school?” Ponyboy locked eyes with him.
Johnny snorted. “Don't really look at them. They're pretty, I guess,” he said. “Man, your head is heavy–”
“Sorry–” Ponyboy whispered, sitting up slightly. Johnny shook his head and looked at him. Ponyboy paused before putting his head back on Johnny’s shoulder.
Johnny smiled. Ponyboy was comfortable, to say the least. He closed his eyes, he was so tired that it felt like there were bubbles in his eyes. Probably an effect from crying a ton. Then he remembered the fact he thought he liked Johnny. He opened his eyes and let go of his hands, feeling slightly disgusted. Why was he doing this? He didn't move, though, he didn't want Johnny to think he did something wrong. He closed his eyes again.
Ponyboy felt Johnny shaking him and saying his name over and over again, along with ‘wake up.’ Ponyboy opened his eyes and looked at him.
“Pony, you gotta go,” Johnny whispered. Ponyboy glanced around. It was pitch black. Darry was bound to yell at him.
“Shoot–” Ponyboy hissed, sitting up and getting up. “You gonna be good?”
Johnny nodded. Ponyboy hesitated before walking away, wrapping his arms around himself. It was freezing. He managed to get home quick– a pro of doing track. He tried to walk in quietly, but the door slammed. He swore under his breath, grimacing. Darry was standing in front of his chair, crossing his arms.
“Ponyboy, do you know what time it is? Three in the goddamn morning!” Darry yelled.
“‘m sorry– I fell asleep in the lot–” Ponyboy tried, feeling tears prick at the corner of his eyes.
“Is that all you say?” Darry snapped. Sodapop walked out when he heard the yelling, he looked freshly woken up.
Sodapop looked at Ponyboy and smiled. “Hey, Pone, you good?” Ponyboy shook his head, nervously glancing at Darry.
“Soda, shut up for one second? Ponyboy, you need to stop falling asleep in the lot, there can be–” Darry started up again.
“Darrell, stop, you're scaring him! And don't tell me to shut up, dear God,” Sodapop suddenly interrupted. He hardly stood up to Darry. “C'mon, Pone, you were tired before you left.”
Ponyboy nodded and muttered a goodnight to Darry before following Sodapop back to their bedroom. He sat down on the bed, trying to hold back more tears. Sodapop laid down on his side of the bed. Ponyboy took a deep breath and took off his jacket, throwing it onto his chair.
He didn't sleep well again.
Nor the next night.
Nor the night after that.
Nor for the whole week.
Sleep problems stemmed, every time Darry even slightly raised his voice, Ponyboy felt like he might cry. The nightmares came back, too. The fact that now he knew that he had an actual crush on Johnny made it far more worse. He vomited after breakfast sometimes because he felt disgusted in himself. He didn't like looking in mirrors anymore. He was still doing well in school, but he skipped track practices. He got hell from Darry about that when he found out.
Ponyboy hardly cried in front of Johnny. He hadn't, yet. He was more happy around Johnny. He drew the sunset, and Johnny drew the both of them standing under the sun, stickman form. Ponyboy taught Johnny how to draw a bit, but he didn’t seem all that interested. They resorted to cuddling, laughing, and talking.
Ponyboy didn't know what to think.
Sodapop caught Ponyboy crying a few times. It was like a wave of sadness kept coming and drowning him, and when he finally got a chance to breathe, he fell even deeper.
Socializing didn't seem fun, even when he saw girls he was supposed to be interested in. Two-Bit tried to cheer him up, and somehow failed.
Ponyboy wiped his eyes as he stood in the bathroom before fixing his hair. He had eye bags. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, frustrated. He couldn’t get the redness away from his eyes. He pushed down his jacket sleeves and gave up, walking out of the bathroom. He saw Darry talking to Steve and Sodapop in the living room. He saw Two-Bit doing his usual activities, balancing a shoe on a beer bottle.
“Darry?” Ponyboy said hesitantly, his voice shaky. Darry looked over at him, arching an eyebrow. “Can I go hang out with– uhm, Johnny and Dallas?”
“Dally's in jail again,” Two-Bit suddenly said.
“Again?” Sodapop and Ponyboy said at the same time.
“Robbed a store,” Two-Bit shrugged, the shoe collapsing onto the ground.
“I'm not surprised,” Darry deadpanned. Ponyboy cleared his throat and looked at Darry. “Yes, Pony, you can go. Be back before midnight, you hear me?”
“Mhm,” Ponyboy hummed. He glanced at everyone before walking out of the house. It was the afternoon.
He walked down to the lot and (surprise to no one) found Johnny playing with a football. Ponyboy smiled.
“Hey, Johnnycakes,” he called out.
Johnny looked up and grinned. “Hey, Pony. Wanna play?”
Ponyboy walked over and Johnny passed the ball to him. He caught it and threw it back. They played a small game of catch. They threw the ball too far and it disappeared. Johnny wasn't too glad about it, but Ponyboy promised they'd find it before he left the lot. They sat down against a tree and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. Ponyboy tried to chew on his nails again because that same feeling of disgust crawled up his spine. Johnny took his hands and they held hands again. Eventually they got to the topic of school. Ponyboy's shoulders tensed. He had gotten a B+ on a test.
Johnny noticed his tense state. “Pony, you okay?”
Ponyboy felt tears again. Nobody had asked that in a bit. Sodapop asked when he heard him crying, but that was a few days ago. He hesitated before shaking his head, squeezing Johnny’s hand. “No,” he said shakily.
Johnny pulled Ponyboy into a hug. That's when the tears started. He cried into his shoulder. “What's wrong, man?” Johnny asked.
“Everything. Everything's wrong. Johnny, I don't feel well, I feel weak, I cry too often, I'm–I'm a bawl baby,” Ponyboy said between sobs.
“Pony– it's alright, man, you're not weak,” Johnny reassured. Ponyboy shook his head and pulled back, wiping his eyes.
“Darry yells at me for everything, I don't get it. I got a B+ on a test and he made me feel like I failed. I feel disgusting every day, I vomit after breakfast, and–” Ponyboy paused before hugging Johnny again, crying into the jean jacket.
Johnny furrowed his eyebrows. “And what?”
Ponyboy shook his head. “Later,” he whispered, his voice muffled. Johnny nodded and rocked Ponyboy back and forth.
“I don't know if it helps, but me and Dal’ think you're pretty smart. You got to skip a grade, didn't you?” Ponyboy nodded. “See? You're tough, man. You're talented too, and I don't think you're disgusting, you look handsome,” Johnny said against Ponyboy's hair.
Ponyboy smiled a bit at the compliments but tears were still coming from his eyes. He closed his eyes, a few choked sobs escaping his lips. Johnny continued trying to comfort him.
Within an hour, Ponyboy stopped crying and told Johnny everything that was really going on, only leaving out the fact all of this was caused by the fact he had a crush on the person he was telling this all to. Johnny listened and gave him a tight hug afterwards. They had talked and hugged so much the sun started setting, and they leaned back to watch it. The sunlight fell on Johnny real nice and made him look tough, at least in Ponyboy's opinion.
Maybe it was time. It was a nice moment, doing the thing they always liked to do. Ponyboy felt the nervous feeling crawl up his spine. He raised his hand to his mouth before dropping it quickly, deciding to fidget with a loose thread on his jeans. He made a final decision.
“Johnny,” Ponyboy disrupted the silence.
Johnny looked over at him. “What's up?”
“I like you,” Ponyboy whispered shakily.
Johnny tilted his head. “I like you too.”
Ponyboy shook his head. “No– no, Johnny, I really like you,” he repeated.
“...what do you mean?” Johnny frowned.
Ponyboy groaned in frustration. “Johnny, I like you like how Sodapop likes his girls, and kinda like how Steve likes Evie. I'm trying to say I like you in that romantic way.”
Johnny froze up, turned to stare at Ponyboy, and went silent. Ponyboy looked back at him, his arms wrapped around his knees. Johnny remained silent for about a minute, his eyes focusing somewhere else. He let out a surprised yet strangled noise before laughing. Ponyboy felt his heart drop, but then Johnny hugged him for probably the 50th time that night, except real tight. Ponyboy hugged him back, but he didn't know what this meant, did Johnny reciprocate?
He got the answer quickly.
“I guess the random hugs and hand holding finally worked,” Johnny mumbled into Ponyboy's neck. “I like you too, Pony.”
Ponyboy froze up before pulling back, holding Johnny by his shoulders. “So… what does that mean?” He whispered, letting out a quiet, sheepish laugh.
“Are we– together? I mean, do you wanna be?” Johnny asked hesitantly, a nervous tone hanging on the edge of his words.
Ponyboy hesitated before nodding, grinning. “I mean, I poured my heart out, so yeah?” Johnny laughed and hugged him again.
“What are we gonna tell the others, though?” Johnny mumbled. Ponyboy felt himself pale a little bit.
Ponyboy shook his head. “Can we not think of that?” Johnny nodded.
They held each other for a few more minutes before pulling apart and going back to sitting an awkward distance away from each other. Ponyboy tried to bite his nails again but Johnny quickly grabbed his hands and held them.
“Stop biting your nails, man, it's dangerous,” Johnny said, frowning.
“Sorry,” Ponyboy muttered.
“And stop apologizing,” Johnny added.
Ponyboy looked away and muttered an apology. Johnny pinched the back of his hand, resulting in a wince and a glare.
Time flew by quickly, and soon it was past midnight, which resulted in Ponyboy panicking and running home practically. He did say bye to Johnny first, though.
When he got home, he mentally prepared himself and opened the door, closing it gently.
“Ponyboy,” Darry called out.
“I'm only, like, thirty minutes late!” Ponyboy attempted.
“Thirty too many!” Darry added.
Ponyboy huffed and crossed his arms, avoiding looking at his older brother. “What's happening to me, then?”
“No hanging out with Johnny for two weeks,” Darry said.
“What the fuck?!” Ponyboy exclaimed.
“Three! Don't swear!” Darry added.
Ponyboy groaned and walked to his and Sodapop's bedroom, finding his brother already asleep. He frowned and ran a hand through his hair, reflecting on everything that happened.
He smiled.