Happy Birthday Dallas Chapter 7

A/N: I would just like to say that I don't condone Dally's behaviour with Sylvia, but it made sense to me for him. Anyway, here's the next part.

To recap: This is the night of the day after Dally's 16th B-Day (on which he and Tim kissed, and Dally ran away). The gang went to the drive-in to celebrate, and met up with Tim. Tim's hand somehow landed in Dally's lap, which sent Dally running to the bathroom. Tim followed and a short make-out session ensued, which ended when Dally couldn't handle it and smacked Tim. Tim went off and Dally went back to the gang waiting at the drive in. Dally, Soda, Steve and Two-Bit went to a party at Buck's, where Steve and Soda were swallowed whole by girls, Dally went to the bedrooms with Sylvia and scared her and himself by acting too rough in bed (trying to like girls), and Two-Bit met up with Angela.

P.S. HUGE FUCKING CHAPTER AHEAD! Dally loosens up a little, so watch yourselves. (Not much though.) But there's some background shit.

P.P.S. Decided that there will be fluff and stuff, and Dally's had a majorly angst filled life. So if you're in the mood for that read on.

"Mmm," Angela murmured, stroking Two-Bit's hair. He was in less of a hurry than she'd expected, and it was nice to move at her own pace for a change. She let her eyes wander lazily around the smoky room, catching glimpses of couples like hers seated on couches, through the mass of slow swaying dancers. The bass was turned up so loud that the music was little more than a throbbing heartbeat in the background. It was so still...

Angela jerked up hearing from somewhere above a piercing cry.

"Dallas!"

Two-Bit pulled up immediately from where he'd been trying to undo Angela's bra. "Jesus," he swore. "Ruin the party for everyone why don'tcha."

Angela rolled her eyes, agreeing totally with Two-Bit. Dally was nothing but trouble.

The next minute he was racing down the stairs, blond hair flying, shirtless and shoeless and tripping over everyone and everything.

"Be right back," Two-Bit murmured, hefting himself up from the couch. Quick as a cat, her leapt over the kids sprawled on the floor and caught Dally by the shoulders as he flew by.

"Dallas, what..." He caught a flash of fear in Dally's cold blue eyes and then he was staggering backwards, his jaw smarting and blood filling his mouth.

"Don't..." Dally gasped, then turned and bolted out of the house.

Angela appeared at his side, tugging at Two-Bit's worn shirt. "You okay?"

Two-Bit nodded, rubbing his jaw gently.

Angela cocked her head in the direction Dally had fled in. "Told you he was trouble," she said angrily. "I oughtta...I'm gonna tell Tim. I'll tell him to stop puttin' up with Dally's crap. He can punch Dally out for ya," she added eagerly.

Two-Bit shook hi head. "I can take care of myself," he growled.

Angela tossed her hair. "I still wanna tell him."

"I'll go with ya," Two-Bit paused, "if you'll grab a bite with me first."

Angela sighed impatiently. "Fine, but you're buying."

"Fine," Two-Bit agreed, grinning. She was the hottest date he'd had in awhile. There was only one small flaw in her looks. "Hey Angel," he said lazily. "Ever think of dying your hair blond?"

Dally gasped in the night air, lungs burning. His face was red hot, and every step he took sent a piercing pain shooting up his legs. But he didn't stop; he was wracked by the absurd idea that he didn't deserve to rest.

His mind caught up with him finally when he was at the door.

"Shit," he moaned, sliding down onto doorstep. The concrete was cool and solid, and the dark night around him began to calm him pulse. Gradually Sylvia's face began to disappear from him mind. He hadn't actually done it, he thought to himself. As long as she didn't end up with a black eye or something...he could barely remember what he'd been doing in that bed.

He burrowed his head in his arms and tried to breathe more slowly. The same scent he'd been breathing in for years trailed through his nose - half- dried grass, dandelions and gasoline. The smell of Tulsa. Or at least the side of Tulsa he lived in. He vaguely remembered something about fresh cut grass and some flowery scent from the other side - real flowers too, not the gag-me fake smell Sylvia had been wearing.

Dally almost cringed even thinking her name. Hard Dally Winston, been in the slammer for everything from here to high heaven. Well, almost everything. Murder, no, but there was still plenty of time for that. But there was something, he thought, was worse than killing someone, something he could never remember considering, something he hadn't gotten close to actually doing until tonight: rape.

The gate creaked open and Dally almost jumped out of his skin. He looked up but he could see little more than a shadow in the dim light. He squinted at the figure as it paused, peering back at him.

"Dally?"

Tim moved forward until he could clearly see Dally's face. He took in the scared look in his wide blue eyes, the absence of his shirt and shoes and shook his head slowly. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He didn't sound angry at least, but he did sound surprised. 'So this is where I ended up,' Dally thought mildly. He wasn't nearly as surprised as he should have been. His feet knew the way to Tim's better than his brain anyway.

Tim shifted uncomfortably. Dally still wasn't saying anything, but then again, that meant that he wasn't cussing him out, and he wasn't throwing any punches.

"You want to come in?"

Dally nodded slowly. He followed Tim in through the unlocked door and through the dark empty hallway. He could hear Tim's parents cussing each other in the back somewhere, but he was used to it. Tim lead him quick up the stairs and into his bedroom. He closed the door, but didn't lock it - he couldn't remember the last time his parents had come into his room anyway.

"What's going on," Tim said flatly. Dally was at his usual station, sitting with his knees up on Tim's bed by the window, and normally Tim would be half sprawled across the other end of the bed, but tonight he was standing, far on the other side of the room.

Dally looked at him. "Tim," he said so quietly that the greaser had to move closer. "Just for a minute, can we pretend we're cool?"

Tim shrugged. He didn't think they weren't, but Dally had always been hung up about stuff that had happened in the past long after other people had forgotten about it. He took everything so seriously.

Tim moved slowly to his end of the bed, and sat down stiffly. He didn't want to scare the greaser away. "What's going on," he repeated.

Dally looked at him, so seriously, his usually hard eyes full of repent. "I think...I think I hurt someone."

Tim stared back at him, waiting for something, anything that would justify this statement of regret.

"Who?" he said finally.

"Sylvia."

Tim nodded, and waited. And waited. "And?"

Dally looked somewhat taken aback. "I mean, not just like, hitting her or something. I think I...well I almost..."

"For Christ's sake Dallas, you come here looking like you've just blown up a building by accident and you tell me you've only ALMOST hurt Sylvia? What the hell could you have done that ALMOST hurt her?"

"I think I almost...had sex with her," Dally said weakly.

"Jesus...is that all?"

"I don't think she wanted to."

"Did you force her into the bedroom?"

"No."

"Did you make her take off her clothes?"

"No."

"Did you make her get into bed with you?"

"No, but she told me to get off."

"And did you?"

"Yes."

Tim took a deep breath. "So let me get this straight. You went into a bedroom with a girl, got into bed with her, ALMOST had sex with her, and left when she asked you to."

"I think I scared her though."

Tim put his head down in his hands. He wanted to scream and laugh at the same time. "You naïve little shit," he said through clenched teeth. "You scare broads by walking down the same street as them."

Dally was silent for awhile. "But I think she thought I would ra...pe her," he said quietly.

"But you didn't."

"I know but-"

"You didn't." Tim stood up and leaned over Dally, gripping his arms in his. "Dally you didn't. You got up and left. Probably ran right out judging from your looks. You're a goddamned saint already. Oh, for pity's sake stop looking like you're gonna cry. She'll be fine, you didn't do anything-"

Tim was silenced as Dally's lips covered his own. The kiss was soft and slow, different from the quick drunken peck he'd given Dally before, lacking the passion of their bathroom make-out. Still, it was the first time Dally had really started it, the first time he felt like the blond greaser really, really wanted him....

Dally pulled back, breathing hard. He looked shocked.

Tim smiled. "A simple thank-you would have been tuff." Dally turned away, pulling at Tim's hands but he was held fast.

"No," Tim said firmly. "Every time I kiss you, you run away. Well, this time you kissed me, so you ain't goin anywhere."

"Let me go," Dally said. Tim didn't. He leaned forward and kissed him again, the same slow soft kiss as before. He waited until Dally was kissing him back and then let go, expecting the greaser to pull away or punch him.

Dally closed his eyes, letting his arms go around Tim's shoulders. He had no energy left to fight this, no thought in his head to scream at him that this was wrong, that he of all people should know that.

Tim shifted his weight onto the bed, between Dally's legs. Dally pulled himself closer wrapping one of his legs around Tim's. He didn't have to try to be turned on by this. He didn't think he could have suppressed it if he'd wanted to. It felt so much better than with any girl. For once, he didn't have to worry about being the one holding someone else.

Tim pulled Dally up closer, as gentle as he could be. Dally wasn't running, wasn't resisting at all, but he still didn't want to scare him away. He could feel Dally's arousal against him though, so slowly, he let his hand press against the younger boy's thigh.

Dally's body jerked slightly. He wasn't sure if it was out of fear or want but he didn't think he could handle Tim's hand anywhere near that region yet. He stopped kissing Tim and squirmed out of his grasp.

Tim let go instantly and backed up, holding his hands up as if Dally had a gun. "Whoa, kid I ain't gonna hurt ya."

Dally quit being scared for a minute, feeling just plain irritated that, even after what had just happened Tim still thought of him as a kid.

"I ain't scared of you," he growled.

"Well you were before," Tim said impatiently. "And you just pushed me off you for no reason. I mean, it ain't like you weren't enjoying it." He motioned lewdly at the obvious bulge in Dally's jeans.

Dally sat up quick, feeling the blush spread across his cheeks. "Shut up," he said violently.

Tim laughed maddeningly. "C'mon," he teased, sliding a hand up Dally's leg. "You know you want it."

Dally pushed him away, his face red hot. "Look I just - I can't - you-"

"Hey what happened?" Tim said, his tone changing suddenly. He was still looking at the front of Dally's jeans. Dally glared at him.

"Don't be stupid."

"No, I mean to your jeans." Tim leaned forward, reaching across Dally's lap. The greaser stiffened, but Tim only fingered the top of Dally's jeans where the zipper was broken.

"I broke it. By accident. With Sylvia." Tim winced, wishing he hadn't brought it up. He'd just killed the mood.

"I thought we went over this already," he said sighing. "I thought we were moving on to better things." He let his fingers trail down the edges of the broken zipper. He hadn't gone far before Dally's hands stopped him.

"Tim," he said almost desperately. Dally leaned back against the pillow his eyes closed. "Look," he said softly. "I don't mind...so much...when you kiss me. No, I do. And I really - I just - can't take anything else. It feels gross and...it's just wrong."

"Why."

Dally shook his head helplessly. "I - it was...I just can't."

Tim sighed turning away, feeling so frustrated he just wanted to punch something. Or someone.

"Tim..."

Tim shook his head. He didn't want anymore of Dally's half-excuses.

"Tim look-"

"Why only you Dally. And why only with ME." It was Dally's own problem. His own hang ups. But why did he have to be so stubborn about himself?

Dally opened his eyes, looking up at Tim's back. He wanted to explain. "Tim."

"No." Dally was breathing hard, but Tim could hardly hear him he was so frustrated. It was only when he was with Tim that someone being gay bothered Dally so much. Tim was sick of it.

"It's just - jail..."

Tim choked on nothing and whirled around. "Jail?" he gasped. Suddenly it all made sense, Dally freaking out whenever he touched him, his disgust, his obsession with almost hurting Sylvia. Tim closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. He'd heard stories - Lord how he'd heard stories - about what went on in jail. They'd scared the hell outta him until he'd actually got arrested, and then found out that if you were big enough, scary enough, and in a real gang the other guys left you alone.

But Dally had been only 10 the first time he'd been arrested, and in a New York jail who knew what other guys, other criminals cooped up for months, years...who knew what they would do.

"Shit," he said finally. He couldn't think of anything else to say. He didn't want to be involved in this. But goddamn it, it wasn't even that he wanted Dally anymore. They were friends. He would have said they were best friends if the term didn't make him feel like a 12 year old girl. He was involved this time, because he wouldn't just let Dally be alone.

Dally didn't look scared at all now, he didn't look embarrassed. He looked the way that Tim always thought of him looking - hard, tough, cool. Like there was nothing in the world that would bother him. He look at Tim with eyes made of grey stone. Not a hint of feeling.

That look could scare the hell out of Tim sometimes. Not now. "Dallas," he said firmly. "I ain't gonna hurt you. I'm not some stupid fag cooped up in jail who gets off gang-bangin' 10 year old kids."

Dally flinched and looked away.

"I ain't gonna fuck you," Tim said, quick to get it all out before Dally started crying or something. "Not until you want it."

Dally laughed coldly and turned around. "What the hell makes you think I ever will." He was trying his hardest to look tough now. But his voice was thin, whispery and shaking and he felt like Tim could see right through him.

Tim smiled tightly. "You will. I'm not going to hurt you," he repeated, "and I'm not gonna let anyone else hurt you like that. I might smack you around if you pop my tires though."

Dally sat up. "I don't care Tim."

"I won't-"

"Hurt me. I know. You've said it 10 times at least."

Tim was quiet. "So I can kiss you then."

"Maybe. But don't touch me."

"Until you want it."

"I won't ever."

Tim smirked. He leaned over, brushing Dally's lips with his. "You will," he whispered, and kissed him again.