this is set in the trampsverse, which has an omegaverse setting with the main pairing of dallas/ponyboy. please be aware that this fic covers themes of child abuse, child neglect.
The bonfire's already going by the time that Dallas gets there, strolling up with the food he'd gotten. He keeps his strides quick and fast as he weaves through the people there, feeling the heat from the bonfire as he goes. Greasers are crowing, laughing, mingling together; he spots Ivy out of the corner of his eye, drinking from a beer, her green ribbons fluttering in the wind. Soda's not anywhere to be seen and that's interesting given everything.
Moving quicker, he goes to the normal spot in the back for him and Ponyboy, able to see him in the nest, a cigarette in one hand, focused on a book in his lap. If he scents Dallas at all, he doesn't show it, his finger curled into the grass, using some of the light from the bonfire to keep reading. How on earth he can, Dallas doesn't know.
"Hey Dally!" Steve calls out to him from the other side.
Ponyboy looks up at that, grins when he spots Dallas' approaching form. Dallas grins back, turning to holler back at Steve, "What!"
"Shepard's looking for you!" Steve shouts back, pointing to the road, way back downward.
Dallas glances over at it, at Tim castigating some of his pack members as usual, some of his words caught in the wind. With an eye roll, he turns his attention back to Ponyboy instead. He's in the red flannel shirt that Dallas had been looking around for about a week now, but his own jeans. The brown jacket is folded up in the nest like a pillow, and he takes a drag from his cigarette as Dallas toes out of his shoes on the dry grass. "So I do all that looking for that and you ain't say shit, huh?"
"You ain't ask me directly," Ponyboy shrugs, and Dallas scowls goodnaturedly as he kicks his shoes away. He steps into the nest — made mostly of old blankets, some old undershirts of his, a huge quilt that had been in the Curtis closet for some time — and Ponyboy shifts to give him room, taking another cigarette drag as Dallas goes down on his knees.
There's no time for him to get a chance to put down the chicken properly, halfway to sitting when Ponyboy leans upward to catch Dallas' mouth with his own. Dallas isn't prepared for the sudden taste of smoke, opening his mouth to catch it, inhale it straight from Ponyboy's mouth. His eyes slip shut, reaching to cup the back of Ponyboy's head, bring him closer. His fingers dig into Ponyboy's hair, now auburn again. He can feel the hot, acrid smoke filling his throat, his lungs, and he pulls away from Ponyboy, forcing it through his nose in the night air.
Ponyboy's eyes catch the light from the bonfire, his normally soft dark brown eyes looking a little more like amber in the spark of the firelight. His hair is a little fluffy, soft between Dallas' fingers, not greased up like normal. His scent is a little fresher than normal, mixed with soap; must've showered after track practice. Dallas licks his lips, grinning at Ponyboy, "Not gonna say hi, huh?"
"Oh, cause you got—" Dallas lunges forward, halfway knocking Ponyboy down as he kisses him this time. Ponyboy gives out a squeak — there's a frantic sound of fingers on the grass — and then his legs are wrapping around Dallas' waist and his hands grasp his shirt, pulling Dallas tighter to him as they kiss. One hand manages to run across the mating mark on Dallas' neck and the sensation is almost too much with the way it seems to go straight to his cock, ignite a need to just fuck Pony in the nest already.
He knows he shouldn't; that food was almost five bucks, and Ponyboy needs to eat given how little he's been eating lately. It's hard for Dallas to get his head on straight when Ponyboy rolls his hips against his, the scent of slick hitting Dallas' nose.
A growl leaves his mouth, and Ponyboy's hand brushes over the mark again. Dallas is close to losing his head, going for Ponyboy's jeans—
"Winston," Tim's voice is sharp, and so's his scent. Dallas snaps his head up, well aware of how he looks, above Ponyboy like this, of the fact that his fangs are bared, that Ponyboy is panting and his jeans are too tight and Tim glares down. "We need to talk. Now."
"Fuck off, I'm busy," Dallas all but barks at him. "I know you ain't blind." At the edge of his eyesight he can see Ponyboy's pulse fluttering against the chain with the St. Christopher on it.
Tim shakes his head and even if Dallas wants to shove him off, he can't. He swears, staggering up, adjusting his jeans. Ponyboy looks disappointed beneath him, and Dallas is steaming as he follows Tim to the line of trees in the back. He all but glowers as Tim folds his arms. "You can't keep putting this off. We need to talk about how things are gonna change once you leave with that mate of yours."
He runs his hand through his hair at that, frustrated even if Tim was right. "Look, he ain't decided where he wants to go yet. That shit takes time and he only just got some responses."
"You say that but you're dragging your feet, too," Tim counters, scowling deeper. "You have to make a decision about what everyone does and knows and how we're going to get the shit for everyone else and Buck. And you're the only one who knows everything — you're holding out."
Tim is pissed, he's pressing and he wants immediate answers Dallas can't give. It's true that the both of them have been doing shit for Buck but Dallas has always been the one to move harder stuff, who knew how to get it and from whom. And Tim wanted his slice before he left Tulsa and that was fine.
But trusting him with it before everything was settled with Pony wasn't going to happen. "When he picks, we'll talk. That's it." he can see Tim simmering with anger; and he'll simply have to simmer. "I'll tell you when that happens and not a moment before."
He turns, half expecting Tim to drag him back. He wisely doesn't, leaving Dallas to walk back to the nest. Ponyboy is there, looking half annoyed, the box of chicken open and already biting into it. He wipes his feet off on his jeans and sits in the nest beside Ponyboy. He takes one of the bones Ponyboy finished, puts it in his mouth and bites down enough for the bone to break.
They eat mostly in silence, Dallas sucking and eating the marrow out of the bones, Ponyboy passing the bottle of beer he must've swiped earlier. Dallas eats the last actual piece of chicken while Ponyboy finishes off the fries and biscuit.
Whatever need to fuck isn't there anymore, Dallas annoyed as he finally says, "You got any letters back yet?"
"Yeah," Ponyboy swigs down the beer, Dallas watching the way the medallion glints against his neck. There's a cry that goes up behind them, back where most of the packs are. "Couple places wanted to just reach out to me to apply. Haven't heard back from the University of Texas yet." He shifts, picking up the book. It's Dune, the cover worn out. In it, Dallas can see a few letters there, tucked inside. He hands it over to Dallas, who flips through it idly, looking at the fancy letterheads.
His eyes fall on one in particular: one from New York State. It's unmistakable and he looks at it for a longer moment than what he would like before handing it back to Ponyboy. "Any of 'em catch your eye?"
"I don't wanna go too far," Ponyboy chews on his lip, eyes focused on Dallas. He has a bit of fried chicken on his cheek that Dallas reaches over to brush off. "It doesn't feel right, moving miles and miles away." Dallas doesn't quite get that, shrugging at it. "I... did think about New York, though."
Of course he did.
Dallas isn't really surprised by the fact that Ponyboy thought about it. He is more surprised that Ponyboy is bringing it up here and now. He can hear Curly shouting at someone from across the way, but keeps his eyes on Ponyboy. "Say what you want." Ponyboy is getting better with it, but sometimes a nudge was fine.
Ponyboy works his jaw. "You ain't ever tell me why you don't wanna go back." He flexes and unflexes his toes in the nest, gaze sharp on Dallas, pinning him there. "You ain't ever really say why."
"I didn't say I don't want to go back," or if he has, that's not exactly the truth. Dallas knows damn well the reason as he pushes the box of bones to the side. "I can't go back."
"Why?" It's quick, not allowing for evasion. "What d'you mean by can't?"
"I mean..." Dallas runs his hand through his hair, irritated, at it even if this is what he's starting to expect now from Ponyboy whenever he gets in a mood like this. That look on his face is too close to what he's looked like when challenging Darry or pushing back against Dallas getting caught. "Kid, it ain't worth going into. If you want to go there for school—"
"Then I should know why you might not be there," Ponyboy counters, raising his voice a little. "We're mates, Dally. If you can't be there, if I can't go there, I wanna know why. You don't listen to anyone you don't want to, what's the difference?"
There's a whole world of difference, Dallas thinks. It's a lot to have to parse, to tell Ponyboy and he wrestles for a moment with it. Of what telling him would do, of what it would be like to actually have someone to tell. Someone he could trust to tell.
And isn't that why they're mates? That if he could tell anyone, it would be Ponyboy. He trusted him and Ponyboy isn't backing down from him, isn't asking for anything except for clarity. "Hold on, okay?" he stands up, shoves his feet back into his shoes. He circles around to the other side of the bonfire, nodding to Ivy who's leaning on Soda. He's grinning at her and Dallas digs out a few beers, and a Coke for Ponyboy out of the main barrel.
He comes back to the nest, takes his shoes off and offers the drinks to Ponyboy. He takes them with a curious look on his face and even though Dal just wants to shove him back...
The beer he cracks open. "Alright, kid. You want the story. You'll get it." Ponyboy leans back in the nest, eyes on him, wide with interest. Dallas takes a swig of the beer, swallowing, trying to sort out his feelings, his thoughts, where to begin.
