Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 4
A/N: Hey guys thanks for the happy reviews! (( They were so nice to read! Thanks a lot. Here's the next part.I know it's not slashy yet, but believe me, it will definitely get there. And soon. (Warning to slash haters, and slash lovers.well I hope I don't disappoint.)
P.S. For quackquacki'maduck I just thought I'd clear a couple things up: First thanks for the nice review! Second, I didn't mean it to be Dally's first wet dream (sorry it kinda sounded like that in the story). I agree, he'd probably been having them for 6 years already or something. It was just his first about Tim specifically. And also about Ernie and Archie - I can't believe you caught that! That's exactly what I was planning on doing and been doing! I'm so glad it's noticeable! (About the whole Ernie being Dally thing and them being gay. It's soooo right!!) Thanks for the link!
~
"Dally!"
"He's asleep."
"Naw, his eyes are open. DALLAS!"
"Huh?" Dally said stupidly. "What?"
Two-Bit leaned over and slapped him on the side of the head. "Forget your brain today?"
"I asked you, about 5 times, if you wanted to play football with us," Darry said calmly, stepping in before Dally could start anything with Two-Bit.
"Didn't hear you," Dally said immediately.
"He's a foot from your head," Steve said dryly. He was tossing the football with Sodapop, back and forth across the Curtis's front yard. He was looking extremely bored though, because in actuality, if he took one step towards Soda he could've handed him the football.
"Something on your mind?" Soda asked, winging the football over Steve's head.
"No. Nothing. Just tired. Woke up at 4 this morning." Dally rubbed his eyes. He wasn't lying - he was tired. But that wasn't what had been keeping him from hearing Darry. He'd been thinking about Tim - about how he could AVOID Tim. At the moment it didn't seem possible.
"What the hell did you get up that early for?"
Dally shrugged at Two-Bit. "Just woke up naturally."
"Naturally? Even after last night.?" Soda froze in mid-throw, Steve snorted and Two-Bit raised an eyebrow. All eyes turned to Dally.
His heart had skipped a beat and for one horrible second Dally thought that they had somehow found out what happened. Then he realised that the greaser was talking about his date with Sylvia.
"Nothing happened. She wasn't my type," he said quickly. Steve snorted again and Two-Bit smirked.
"Not your type? I thought anything with tits and a cunt was your type."
"Steve," Darry said sternly, jerking his head at the spot where Ponyboy was sitting with Johnny.
"Aw, Darry I've heard it all before," Pony protested. "Hell, I've heard YOU say most of those words."
"Watch your mouth Ponyboy," Darry said, striding across the yard and taking the football from Sodapop. Ponyboy flipped off his brother's back, making Johnny laugh softly.
"So you didn't sleep with her," Two-Bit said, bringing the conversation back around.
"No," Dally said shortly. "I told you, she's not my type."
"Bullshit," Steve yelled, then ducked as Darry aimed a soft punch at him. "You blew us off to date that little broad, so unless your date turned out to be a guy, you shoulda nailed her."
Dally could have laughed or cried at the irony. His empty stomach was acting like he'd cleaned out a buffet table then gone drag racing. "I didn't blow you off," he said instead. "I'm going with yall tonight ain't I?"
"Oh, Tim's comin'," Ponyboy said suddenly. "I saw Curly yesterday at school, and he said that Tim said he could come-"
For the third time that day, several of Dally's vital organs stopped working.
"What?" he croaked.
"Is he meeting us there," Darry asked, absently twirling the football.
"Yup."
"No!"
Dally found himself standing up, his hands balled into fists, and all his friends staring at him.
"Why not?" Soda asked curiously. "Yall been fighting?"
Dally swallowed. His mouth was dry. "Um."
"So what. He's coming. Yall can kiss and make up at the movie-"
Before he knew what he was doing, Dally had wrapped his fist in the front of Two-Bit's shirt and had hauled him to his feet.
"Shut up," he hissed. "You don't know what you're talking about!"
"Okay, okay, break it up. Dally, calm down." Darry hurried over to the tow headed greaser, pulling him quickly off of Two-Bit.
"It was just a joke," Two-Bit said, looking surprised.
"It wasn't funny," Dally snapped, shaking off Darry hand.
"Take it out on the field," Darry growled, sounding for all the world like a gym teacher.
"Yeah, see if y'all can beat us then," Soda chimed in, grinning at Darry. He sidled over and slung an arm around Dally's shoulder. "C'mon let's work out our battle plan."
"You got no hope," Darry said, still looking a bit stern. "We'll cream you."
And they did.
~
Evening fell, warmer than the night before. Thoroughly exhausted, the gang made their way in the soft twilight down to the Nightly Double, Two-Bit intoning a soft, barely-recognisable, tuneless rendition of "Happy Birthday". Dally didn't even have the energy to say shut-up. He was nearly hysterical inside, trying to figure out how to avoid Tim that night and coming up with nothing. He wasn't even exactly sure of what he was afraid of.
They paid to get in that night - they were without a car, so it wasn't much, and the group was way too big to sneak in unnoticed. Plus several of them were still nursing the small aches and pains they'd gotten from that afternoon's football game.
They trotted across the ground towards the seats, Dally's eyes flickering across the rows of plastic blue chairs, searching, searching for that familiar face in the crowd.
Tim's leg was shaking - he had a severe case of the jitters. He had a sneaking suspicion that he shouldn't have gone to the drive-in that night. Dally was gonna have a fucking conniption. He was going to kill Tim, revive him, blow his head off with swear words and then kill him again. But of course he wouldn't, because he wouldn't want anyone else to know that it happened. Tim's mind was spinning in circles. What he should really do, he reasoned, was just tell Dally that he'd been drunk and it had all been a stupid mistake. Dally would be fine with that, and they could forget all about it - they'd never have to speak of it again. But even as he thought it, Tim knew he wouldn't do it. Tonight, he was going to go the other way, and do something real stupid, and really, really dangerous. Because, like Dallas, Tim always got what he wanted one way or another. And right now he wanted Dally.
There. Right fucking there in the crowd. 200th heart attack in the past 2 days and his stomach seized up again. Dally looked down and concentrated hard on breathing. At this rate, he was going to die a very early death.
"There's Tim. C'mon, let's go sit with him," Steve said eagerly. He was only hoping for news on any upcoming fight, Dally thought dully. Under normal circumstances he would have been right with Steve. A sudden anger against Tim flared up. All his fault things were awkward. All his fault Dally kept thinking people were calling him a fag. All his fault Dally was starting to wonder himself about that.
"Hey," Tim said, nodding at him. His voice was steady. He looked calm and at ease. Like he didn't have a care in the world. 'Asshole,' Dally thought.
Well two could play his game. Climbing the seats quickly, he sat down right next to Tim. He could clear a few things up about himself there. Things like how last night's dream had been an accident.
He wasn't expecting the rest of the gang (except Steve) to choose seats two rows down.
And halfway through the movie he wasn't expecting to feel Tim's hand lightly tough his shoulder.
Heart pounding, he strained to feel the fingertips creeping down his leather-clad arm. The heat of Tim's hand permeated through his jacket, inching closer and closer to his own sweaty palm.
'Okay,' he thought, taking a breath. Holding hands was nothing. He could deal with that. It would help him figure out which side he was batting for. His heart rate slowed; he unclenched his fist, readying himself. He was very surprised when Tim's hand slid past his and landed squarely in his lap.
A/N: Hey guys thanks for the happy reviews! (( They were so nice to read! Thanks a lot. Here's the next part.I know it's not slashy yet, but believe me, it will definitely get there. And soon. (Warning to slash haters, and slash lovers.well I hope I don't disappoint.)
P.S. For quackquacki'maduck I just thought I'd clear a couple things up: First thanks for the nice review! Second, I didn't mean it to be Dally's first wet dream (sorry it kinda sounded like that in the story). I agree, he'd probably been having them for 6 years already or something. It was just his first about Tim specifically. And also about Ernie and Archie - I can't believe you caught that! That's exactly what I was planning on doing and been doing! I'm so glad it's noticeable! (About the whole Ernie being Dally thing and them being gay. It's soooo right!!) Thanks for the link!
~
"Dally!"
"He's asleep."
"Naw, his eyes are open. DALLAS!"
"Huh?" Dally said stupidly. "What?"
Two-Bit leaned over and slapped him on the side of the head. "Forget your brain today?"
"I asked you, about 5 times, if you wanted to play football with us," Darry said calmly, stepping in before Dally could start anything with Two-Bit.
"Didn't hear you," Dally said immediately.
"He's a foot from your head," Steve said dryly. He was tossing the football with Sodapop, back and forth across the Curtis's front yard. He was looking extremely bored though, because in actuality, if he took one step towards Soda he could've handed him the football.
"Something on your mind?" Soda asked, winging the football over Steve's head.
"No. Nothing. Just tired. Woke up at 4 this morning." Dally rubbed his eyes. He wasn't lying - he was tired. But that wasn't what had been keeping him from hearing Darry. He'd been thinking about Tim - about how he could AVOID Tim. At the moment it didn't seem possible.
"What the hell did you get up that early for?"
Dally shrugged at Two-Bit. "Just woke up naturally."
"Naturally? Even after last night.?" Soda froze in mid-throw, Steve snorted and Two-Bit raised an eyebrow. All eyes turned to Dally.
His heart had skipped a beat and for one horrible second Dally thought that they had somehow found out what happened. Then he realised that the greaser was talking about his date with Sylvia.
"Nothing happened. She wasn't my type," he said quickly. Steve snorted again and Two-Bit smirked.
"Not your type? I thought anything with tits and a cunt was your type."
"Steve," Darry said sternly, jerking his head at the spot where Ponyboy was sitting with Johnny.
"Aw, Darry I've heard it all before," Pony protested. "Hell, I've heard YOU say most of those words."
"Watch your mouth Ponyboy," Darry said, striding across the yard and taking the football from Sodapop. Ponyboy flipped off his brother's back, making Johnny laugh softly.
"So you didn't sleep with her," Two-Bit said, bringing the conversation back around.
"No," Dally said shortly. "I told you, she's not my type."
"Bullshit," Steve yelled, then ducked as Darry aimed a soft punch at him. "You blew us off to date that little broad, so unless your date turned out to be a guy, you shoulda nailed her."
Dally could have laughed or cried at the irony. His empty stomach was acting like he'd cleaned out a buffet table then gone drag racing. "I didn't blow you off," he said instead. "I'm going with yall tonight ain't I?"
"Oh, Tim's comin'," Ponyboy said suddenly. "I saw Curly yesterday at school, and he said that Tim said he could come-"
For the third time that day, several of Dally's vital organs stopped working.
"What?" he croaked.
"Is he meeting us there," Darry asked, absently twirling the football.
"Yup."
"No!"
Dally found himself standing up, his hands balled into fists, and all his friends staring at him.
"Why not?" Soda asked curiously. "Yall been fighting?"
Dally swallowed. His mouth was dry. "Um."
"So what. He's coming. Yall can kiss and make up at the movie-"
Before he knew what he was doing, Dally had wrapped his fist in the front of Two-Bit's shirt and had hauled him to his feet.
"Shut up," he hissed. "You don't know what you're talking about!"
"Okay, okay, break it up. Dally, calm down." Darry hurried over to the tow headed greaser, pulling him quickly off of Two-Bit.
"It was just a joke," Two-Bit said, looking surprised.
"It wasn't funny," Dally snapped, shaking off Darry hand.
"Take it out on the field," Darry growled, sounding for all the world like a gym teacher.
"Yeah, see if y'all can beat us then," Soda chimed in, grinning at Darry. He sidled over and slung an arm around Dally's shoulder. "C'mon let's work out our battle plan."
"You got no hope," Darry said, still looking a bit stern. "We'll cream you."
And they did.
~
Evening fell, warmer than the night before. Thoroughly exhausted, the gang made their way in the soft twilight down to the Nightly Double, Two-Bit intoning a soft, barely-recognisable, tuneless rendition of "Happy Birthday". Dally didn't even have the energy to say shut-up. He was nearly hysterical inside, trying to figure out how to avoid Tim that night and coming up with nothing. He wasn't even exactly sure of what he was afraid of.
They paid to get in that night - they were without a car, so it wasn't much, and the group was way too big to sneak in unnoticed. Plus several of them were still nursing the small aches and pains they'd gotten from that afternoon's football game.
They trotted across the ground towards the seats, Dally's eyes flickering across the rows of plastic blue chairs, searching, searching for that familiar face in the crowd.
Tim's leg was shaking - he had a severe case of the jitters. He had a sneaking suspicion that he shouldn't have gone to the drive-in that night. Dally was gonna have a fucking conniption. He was going to kill Tim, revive him, blow his head off with swear words and then kill him again. But of course he wouldn't, because he wouldn't want anyone else to know that it happened. Tim's mind was spinning in circles. What he should really do, he reasoned, was just tell Dally that he'd been drunk and it had all been a stupid mistake. Dally would be fine with that, and they could forget all about it - they'd never have to speak of it again. But even as he thought it, Tim knew he wouldn't do it. Tonight, he was going to go the other way, and do something real stupid, and really, really dangerous. Because, like Dallas, Tim always got what he wanted one way or another. And right now he wanted Dally.
There. Right fucking there in the crowd. 200th heart attack in the past 2 days and his stomach seized up again. Dally looked down and concentrated hard on breathing. At this rate, he was going to die a very early death.
"There's Tim. C'mon, let's go sit with him," Steve said eagerly. He was only hoping for news on any upcoming fight, Dally thought dully. Under normal circumstances he would have been right with Steve. A sudden anger against Tim flared up. All his fault things were awkward. All his fault Dally kept thinking people were calling him a fag. All his fault Dally was starting to wonder himself about that.
"Hey," Tim said, nodding at him. His voice was steady. He looked calm and at ease. Like he didn't have a care in the world. 'Asshole,' Dally thought.
Well two could play his game. Climbing the seats quickly, he sat down right next to Tim. He could clear a few things up about himself there. Things like how last night's dream had been an accident.
He wasn't expecting the rest of the gang (except Steve) to choose seats two rows down.
And halfway through the movie he wasn't expecting to feel Tim's hand lightly tough his shoulder.
Heart pounding, he strained to feel the fingertips creeping down his leather-clad arm. The heat of Tim's hand permeated through his jacket, inching closer and closer to his own sweaty palm.
'Okay,' he thought, taking a breath. Holding hands was nothing. He could deal with that. It would help him figure out which side he was batting for. His heart rate slowed; he unclenched his fist, readying himself. He was very surprised when Tim's hand slid past his and landed squarely in his lap.