A silence falls on them for a moment. Dallas isn't exactly tired of talking, not yet. Just that with all that, he's watched Ponyboy the whole time. They'd gone from sitting opposite over to Ponyboy reaching out with his hands to grasp Dallas' own at the description of his choices he'd had to make to survive.
Dallas had paused long enough to draw Ponyboy closer to him, allowing Ponyboy's arms to wrap around his waist. to let him put his head on Dallas' shoulder. Being held, wanting to be held in that moment, in a memory he'd never divulged to anyone was... Well. It was more than what he expected.
And now, Ponyboy was gripping his sides almost as tightly as Dallas had grasped his own, waiting for the rain to stop. There's no thunderstorm breaking out, not a labyrinthine city here in Tulsa. No, the bonfire is getting low, there's a sweep of cold.
Enough that they could get up and go to the house together, crawl into bed with Soda or without, if he wasn't there and go to sleep. But not so cold that either wanted to leave; something about saying this under the roof of the house together didn't fit. It had to be here, had to be now.
"Dally?" Ponyboy shifts and Dallas looks down, at the way his eyes look in the dying firelight, at how brown they are, with flecks of amber. "Wanna check everything while I get the pups?"
"Sure," Dallas says, letting his grip loosen enough. Ponyboy gets up, but keeps his grip in Dallas' hand, helping him stand up. "I'll get the fire." He catches Ponyboy's mouth with his own, taking a moment to keep him there, squeezing his hand. Ponyboy tastes like chocolate, a bit of beer, and for once, he doesn't mind the first taste when Ponyboy kisses back in a way that's gentler than usual.
When they part, Ponyboy scoops up the cans, stepping out of the nest to go the other pups. It's something he's done for the past few years when they've been here this late before, going round to everyone still there and checking up on them. It's something Ed has done before, but not always. Ponyboy never fails to do this when they're there this late though, and Dallas watches as he crouches down to two greasers — kids who should've stayed at the lot but had snuck in — and talks to them softly.
They look closer to twelve than thirteen as Ponyboy smiles at them, says something Dallas can't pick up. He watches for a moment as Ponyboy continues with them, seeing the way he easily commands them, the warmth coming off of him.
Dallas tears his eyes away, goes towards the fire. He throws in more wood, more debris. A branch is used to poke at some of the wood in the pit, and he squints down at it, the heat hitting him like a wave. It's good; it reminds him that he's not in New York, cold and shivering, unable to go back to his mother's apartment.
He watches Ponyboy from where he is as he gets some of the trash together, putting it in one of the bags someone left. He wonders what Ponyboy is thinking about as he adjusts a blanket on one of the Viper girls who've stayed. If Ponyboy pities him, what he thinks of Ace, of Odessa. It had been hard to recall Ace's features at first, but as the memories flowed, as his words came, it was easier than it had been.
By the time Ponyboy is done, he's moving towards the table where there's a bit of food left. He goes through them, Dallas turning his head away to throw the last bit of wood in. The bonfire crackles more, and satisfied, Dallas moves his way back to their nest.
Ponyboy joins him again, offering him some water first. Dallas takes a swig, Ponyboy biting into a half eaten ding dong.
Once he's done, he doesn't resume his position on the other end of the nest. Instead, he grabs a few of the remaining blankets without people, dumps them into the nest. Dallas sheds his own jacket off, Ponyboy grabbing for it in a way that makes Dallas grin.
It's folded into a half pillow for them both, and it's easy to pull themselves into a familiar position, Ponyboy slotted against Dallas, Dallas' hand massaging Ponyboy's skinny hip. "Where did you go?" Ponyboy's voice has that honeyed, soft tone he uses sometimes when Dallas is dropping or he's worried. His fingers run through Dallas' hair the way it has during those time too, soothing Dallas as much as he can. "You didn't mention where."
"My uncle Carmine's," Dallas keeps stroking the warm, soft dip of Ponyboy's hip as he talks, able to see it the way he had been as a kid, shivering and cold. "My dad's younger brother. Kind of a short guy, omega. Big, curly hair, brown eyes. Well — eh, eye. One of 'em he lost at three, had an accident."
Ponyboy reaches down, pulling the blankets on them better. "So your aunt, Ace's mom is your mom's... sister, right?" He gets a nod as an answer. "And Carmine," Ponyboy picks up on the name easily, the Car-mine-eh sounding a little funny on his tongue, "is Texas' younger brother. How come he's got an Italian name and Texas and you don't?"
There's a huff from Dallas, but leave it to Ponyboy to want to know the details. "Cause Texas got known for it — didn't want people calling him by his real name. He used to work in Texas, it stuck, and the old man liked it more. There, happy?" Deliberately, he drags his nails into that soft side of Ponyboy, who kicks Dallas back, even if both actions aren't as harsh as they could be.
"Why didn't you think to go there earlier?" Ponyboy continues, raising an eyebrow. "I'd of ran there first."
"Cause sometimes..." Dallas trails off, thinking how he'd been as a kid. "Always felt like if I kept going to him, I'd wear out my welcome. He'd get sick of me too, kick me out then I really wouldn't have anywhere else to go. He was always second to last cause of that." He pulls Ponyboy a little closer, pressing his mouth to Ponyboy's in a kiss he thinks he's needed for a few minutes now.
It's easy to love it, to love the way Ponyboy feels slotted against him. Easy to sink into a kiss that turns into two kisses, to sigh and tangle himself into Ponyboy. Even if he needs to get back to that kid curled up beneath a bed, even if he needs to get through this, he loves this moment. Loves the way Ponyboy gasps into his mouth when Dallas grips him a little too tight, loves the way Ponyboy's fingers grasp his side tight, his nails dragging along Dallas' back.
He knows that they could do this all night, do more.
But he has to get this out. He has to say this now because he might never get it out, and when he and Ponyboy part, faces flushed, bodies warm, he knows that if he keeps up, if he lets Ponyboy's hands slip further down, they won't. So he presses his forehead against Ponyboy's own, his hand dropping to run against the cool of the chain on his neck. He can feel Ponyboy's warm breath on his skin, and he swallows, trying to get his head together. "I ran... I ran to Carmine's. Couldn't get in the bed. Just was on the floor, shivering that whole damn night til I fell asleep or passed out. Don't know which one."
Ponyboy hums, and moves away, to give Dallas some distance, so he can't sink his nose into his neck, inhale his scent. Still, though, he doesn't let Dallas let go of his shirt, doesn't pull so far that back that Dallas can't anchor into him.
"So what happened after that?"
Dallas swallows, looks at Ponyboy's eyes, and he can see a bit of brown there that reminds him of Carmine. "He found me the next morning. Saw the puddles of water, knew what happened."
He sighs, seeing it in his mind's eye, knowing that the next stretch will be long and he continues. "He wasn't happy."
thanks for reading! i love comments, and kudos. and if you're wondering why carmine's description might sound familiar? he looks + sounds like peter falk!
