It's so dark in the church that only the outlines of the windows show, where the moonlight shines through. There are peaceful night-time sounds outside the walls; the occasional hoot of an owl, and the gentle, continuous rustle of long grass. The sky is clear and speckled with pinpoint stars, the air is sharp and biting, and on the chilly wooden floor of the old church, Ponyboy rolls over in his sleep. He is making small sounds every few seconds that sound to Johnny like a nightmare. Johnny's not surprised. The kid's only thirteen - no, fourteen - after all. Too young to be dragged into a murder. Too late. Murder? He doesn't even like to say the word inside his head. He edges around it; it's poisonous.
Anyway, Johnny can't pretend that he wishes Pony wasn't here. He can't imagine what things would have been like without the kid's company. And Pony is fun and calming to be around, too, something that is a relief after everything about the night in the park. He won't think about that.
Pony is quiet and Johnny is more than quiet. Two-bit teases them about it, but they've never needed words. They can have an entire conversation with a single glance.
Johnny has never questioned how he feels about Ponyboy Curtis. He has never wondered if it's wrong to want to kiss another boy; it's never mattered. He has his hopes, brought on by Pony's head resting in his lap on the train, Pony's head on his shoulder countless times before, and Pony's face burning red when Johnny says he's good-looking. He has his hopes but he's never acted on them, because of the fear that never goes away. The loss would be too much if he was wrong.
Johnny watches him, eyes following every movement of that ridiculously blonde head, every twitch of those lips, every flutter of the boy's eyelids. When Ponyboy wakes up, Johnny isn't ready for it. Pony's breaths are coming in short gasps, and within seconds he's crying. A natural reaction - Johnny can't blame him. At least his own eyes are used to the darkness now, after lying awake for hours. Ponyboy is lost in a sea of black, still drowning in a nightmare.
Pony can't see but Johnny can, and he reaches out, sliding his hand around the back of Ponyboy's neck.
"Pony," he whispers as gently as he can. "Pony, it's me, it's Johnny, you're okay I'm here Pony it's okay Pony it's Johnny I'm here..." Johnny doesn't know what he's saying anymore. Ponyboy's sobs are too distracting. He watches and waits while Pony starts to catch his breath. With a great deal of care and caution, Johnny wraps his arms around Ponyboy's shoulders and pulls him closer across the dusty floor. Pony's fingers curl into the front of Johnny's T-shirt and he buries his face in Johnny's shoulder. Johnny can't do anything now but tentatively stroke Pony's hair - so blonde now, and clean, too fluffy. He almost misses the grease, because Pony doesn't look like Pony without it.
Ponyboy heaves a quavering sigh. He isn't crying anymore but he's still shaking, and Johnny can't help it when he pulls back a bit and kisses Pony's forehead, then his nose, and wet, tear-streaked cheeks. He stops with his mouth so close to the other boy's that he can feel their breath mixing, Pony's still coming out in soft, shuddering gasps.
"Johnnycake?" he says, his voice cracking slightly. Johnny's own breath catches when Ponyboy presses his forehead against Johnny's and grips his shirt tighter, pulling their bodies as close as they can go. Pony, slowly, hesitantly tangling his denim-clad legs with Johnny's.
"Yeah, Pony?"
There's just silence for a moment.
"It's really dark in here." Pony lets out a choked laugh and presses his mouth against Johnny's. Johnny has time to realize that he's not surprised, and then nothing matters anymore, because the feeling of Ponyboy's tongue battling with his own is blinding. He reaches up and buries his hands in messy bleached hair, keeping Pony's mouth against his until he breaks away, panting, and gasps in something more than shock when he feels Pony's lips on his neck, then his collarbone. Then there's that tongue again...and Pony finds out that Johnny makes the most interesting little whimpering sounds. Now it's Johnny's turn to try and catch his breath, and for a moment he can't seem to do it.
Even as Johnny grips the back of Pony's hair again and pulls the younger boy's mouth back to his own, he thinks this is never going to happen again. They won't stay at the church forever; they'll have to leave sometime, and the church on the hill is a different world. It's the only world where he and Ponyboy can be together so completely like this...
And then Johnny thinks maybe they still have a few days here before it has to end.