Now I'm making a Dally/Johnny fanfic, like I said I would a long time ago. HERE GOES NOTHING.

Chapter One

It's impossible not to stare at him when he's glaring at someone, and how he'll beat anyone up to protect me and the gang is just so cute. But if you ever called Dallas Winston cute, he'd probably punch you in the face. Besides, Dally's always all over girls, and he's got a different one at Bucks practically every night. But me? I'm afraid of girls, as the gang would say. If one is even just two feet away I start to get nervous. Really nervous.

I've never had a girlfriend before and, truthfully, I don't want one. No, I want Dallas Winston. The JD, the hood. The one who people label as 'the toughest' or 'dangerous' or 'a criminal'. To me he's perfection, and don't even ask me why. I'm attracted to him. I, Johnny Cade, am attracted to my best friend! And he's a boy.

When I first started noticing how much I stared at him, and how much I thought about him, it scared me quite a bit. I didn't think I had those kind of feelings for him. But I do. And there's nothing I can do about it. It's like I'm his prisioner, and everything he does is to torture me. I'm glad I never see him around Sylvia. I'd get too jealous for my own good just watching her press her lips to his. It disgusts me, actually. Her lips have probably been lots of places they shouldn't have. (A/N: coughotherguysdickscough)

The only one I want Dally to kiss is me. Me, and only me. I want to be the only one he lays in bed with late at night, the only one he hugs, protects, and truly cares about. Does that sound selfish to you?

His eyes, they're sharp, cold and blue, but I love them. I love his eyes. Heck, I love him. I'm not afraid to admit it anymore. At least not to myself. The gang, well, I don't know how they'd take it. Truth is, I don't wanna find out. It's better this way. Dallas Winston will never know how I feel about him. No one will. Ever.

It's weird how at one random moment, you realize;; "Hey! I'm gay!"

It's not a great thing to figure out about yourself. People make fun of people like that.

At the moment, he was stretching, shirtless. I couldn't help but stare, mesmerized. It was like my eyes had been super-glue to his chest, examining the muscles. Man, he has a good build. Too bad I can only lay my head upon that chest in my dreams.

It's sad, really.

Poor Johnny queer boy Cade, who's best friend will never want him the way he wants his best friend, because his best friend doesn't swing the way he does. Yeah, poor me.

I know I can never have Dally, and it's probably better than way. I don't think he'd enjoy socs shouts of 'Queer!' directed at him, anyway. But really, have you ever wanted something so bad, but the fact that you couldn't have it didn't make you want it any less?

"Johnny man, why are you staring at me with that goofy look on your face?"

And I'd been caught.

I shook my head, muttered "No reason", and turned away. But I stole glances when he wasn't looking at me. Of coruse, I'd have to be more careful with the staring at him thing. He might figure out why I stare at him, transfixed, with that look on my face.

And I don't want him to find out.

Dally will never love me.

We're just friends. Friends. Only friends...