*See first chapter for warnings and disclaimers.
killslay: Oh, no problem about clearing up the overprotective gang thing...thanks for asking me about it. Sorry if some of the stuff isn't clear; I try to make everything fit, but sometimes it doesn't work out that way. *sheepish grin*. So, if you have any more questions, please ask! But you'll just have to wait and see what happens...
ModestVanity: Thank you! After I write a chapter, I always look for your reviews, because it just makes me feel so good to hear from you, not just for your very welcome praise, but it's just awesome to see that you're enjoying the story so much! Thanks for your support, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!
Tashue: I haven't really been reading much lately...is your fic posted yet? Anyway, thanks, I always try to make endings have an impact...they are, for me, key elements in chapters, because they make people want to come back and keep reading. But, yeah, I love the movie...Dally was great-Matt Dillon is VERY hot, but I think Rob Lowe is gorgeous! He wasn't in the movie enough, though. *sigh* Oh, well. Please, keep reviewing!
Hell's Angels: LOL! The scene between you and Heaven's Demons made me laugh, but I'm glad you both like the story, even if you can't agree on a pairing. Hope to hear from you again.
cassie: Yeah, Dally does die in the book, but remember, this is fanfiction; anything can happen! *mysterious music* Oooo, scary...
Courtney M.: Yeah, Dally definitely does seem cold, but maybe Ponyboy could warm him up? Geez, that was so cheesy, but anyway, Two-Bit getting skinned alive does make somewhat of an amusing picture, doesn't it? Well, we'll see...glad you like the story-you keep reviewing, and I'll keep updating (even if the story is progressing VERY slowly).
Thanks also go out to Lin, tt, Mouse, cat, litzy bitsy, ~Lupin~, molly, redrose2310 (by the way, Johnny wasn't raped, just beat up), arimel, BlackRose1356, Hanah, david, True-Slytherin-gurl, whitney, brian-blaze15, Chibi-Aya-chan and MissLKid! Thanks loads, you guys! Keep reviewing!
Chapter 4: "Further Encounters"
Johnny entered the Curtis home to the sound of blaring cartoons, a spotless kitchen, and Ponyboy, dressed in slightly loose jeans that hung low on slender hips, and a large, dark green T-shirt, perched on the arm of the large sofa, grinning as he greeted his best friend.
"Hey, Johnnnycake, how ya doin'?" he said brightly, raising a hand in greeting as the slam of the screen door attracted his attention. A cigarette dangled precariously from his mouth, but inhaling deeply one last time, Ponyboy put in out in the ashtray that lay on the coffee table. It was one that Two-Bit had swiped from the DX, and the gas station's bright red logo peeked out from beneath a pile of undoubtedly fresh ashes.
Johnny managed to plaster on a half-smile as he approached the younger Greaser, but his eyes caught and lingered on the bruise colouring Ponyboy's jaw, and smile faltering, he sighed deeply.
"This is getting outta control..." He murmured thoughtfully, dark eyes uneasy.
Green-grey eyes slid upwards in annoyance as Ponyboy threw himself onto the couch, groaning, "Not you too!" He made a muffled sound of exasperation. "Everybody's been treatin' this whole thing like I almost died or somethin'."
'And they don't even know the half of it.' He added mentally, a shiver running down his spine as menacing faces flashed across his mind's eye.
Johnny studied his younger friend thoughtfully as he claimed Ponyboy's discarded position on the arm of the chair, and replied quietly, "They're just worried. You can't blame 'em, Pony, they care about you."
The auburn-haired boy sighed deeply, eyes closing in resignation, dark lashes standing out in stark contrast to creamy skin.
"I know they do," he began softly, "but I don't get why they're makin' this great big fuss...it's not a huge deal."
Johnny laughed lightly, causing Ponyboy to open his eyes and sit up in confusion. Eyebrows drew together in bewilderment as the younger Greaser waited impatiently for his friend to continue, and when it became apparent that Johnny wasn't going to elaborate, Pony demanded, irritation plainly visible, "What?"
The dark-haired boy grinned unabashedly, his mood lightening unexpectedly as he teased his younger friend. He drew a leg up to his chest, resting his chin on the knee, as his other leg dangled off the couch, and Ponyboy marvelled at the relaxed pose, one he rarely ever saw his friend assume as a result of his recent assault and abusive family. Studying his friend's rich chocolate eyes, suddenly bright, Pony was saddened to realise that he was one of the only people ever to see Johnny happy, and he couldn't help but think that everyone else was missing out.
Ponyboy-as well as the rest of the gang-knew that Johnny was a rare type of person, one that a lucky few had the privilege of keeping company with during the span of their lifetimes, and should cherish. And with that knowledge, they certainly did their best, especially considering the abominable circumstances of Johnny's home life, to care for him, and make sure he knew his own worth.
'It ain't fair that Johnny has to live like that,' Ponyboy thought resentfully, 'with those, those people as his parents...he don't deserve it...he don't deserve bein' a Greaser...none of us do...'
"Whoo-hoo, Ponyboy!"
Ponyboy snapped back to reality as Johnny's voice rang out in the room, loud enough to wake a horde of sleeping bears out of hibernation, or, more astonishingly, Two-Bit out of a drunk stupor. He deftly caught the wrist of the hand moving back and forth incessantly across his field of vision in a waving motion, and laughed at the surprise on Johnny's face.
"What's with you?" Pony asked laughingly.
A squeak of indignation escaped Johnny's mouth before he could stop himself. "What's with ME? YOU'RE the one that was off in the clouds" he shot back huffily, pouting childishly. He regarded his absent-minded friend thoughtfully, and his voice adopted a slightly pensive tone. "I could swear you live in a dreamworld or somethin' sometimes, Ponyboy."
"Nah," Pony replied without hesitation, grinning broadly "I'm just imaginative." He concluded brightly with a great flourish of hands in indication of a well-rehearsed reply to such a comment.
"You say that way too often for it to be true, Pony. Besides, what's the difference?" Johnny asked, chuckling good-naturedly.
"I could take the time to explain that, Johnnycake," Ponyboy said sweetly, sniggering as Johnny stuck out his tongue at the use of the popular nickname. "But we've been over this loads of times before anyway, and-"
"Yeah, yeah, it's just too subtle a difference for me to grasp and blah blah." Johnny interrupted unapologetically. "Y'know, I really think these insults to my intelligence are getting' outta hand."
Ponyboy mock-glared at him. "Well, you deserve it for interruptin' me, Johnny Cade. But you'll just have to lick your wounds later, 'cause we got a football game to get to. The others have started already, and I told 'em we'd come as soon as you got here."
He sprang up from his place on the couch and sprinted out the door and down the porch steps, stopping only when he realised Johnny was following at a much more moderate pace.
"John-ny!" he whined as his friend stepped out into the bright morning sunlight. "Hurry up!"
"Aw, calm down, Pony, I can't run as fast as you anyway. 'Sides, it's your own fault for callin' me Johnnycake."
Ponyboy laughed outright, the joyous sound loud and sweet, full lips stretched into an impossibly large smile.
"I can't believe you really hate the name that much, Johnny." Pony said, eyes sparkling with mirth. "I mean, the whole gang calls you Johnnycake-it can't be that bad."
Johnny eyed him doubtfully. "That's what you think. It's a little kid name, Pony, and I'm supposed to be a big, tough Greaser. Tuff. How am I supposed to be tuff with a nickname that ends in a food, huh?"
Ponyboy bowed his head, letting sun-streaked auburn hair across his face like a silk curtain while he attempted to muffle his giggles by stuffing his fist in his mouth. However, it appeared that he didn't do a very good job.
Johnny sighed, a pained expression gracing his tanned features as he took in the painfully obvious scene. "Go ahead; laugh out loud."
Ponyboy obeyed instantly, his slender form bent over, hands on his knees, with the force of his laughter. Calming down after a few moments, Pony stood up straight, shoving gold-tinted auburn locks out of his face and observing his closest friend, a wide grin still adorning his lovely countenance.
"Sorry, Johnny, but you gotta admit, it's kinda funny." Pony said in a voice still slightly breathless from laughter, green-grey orbs alight with amusement.
"I don't gotta do nothin'." Johnny argued, fishing in the pocket of his leather jacket for a smoke as they resumed walking. "It ain't funny...I don't know why you guys call me that anyway...it's a fine stupid name."
"It ain't nothin' of the sort." Ponyboy reasoned as he slung an arm around Johnny's shoulders, pocketing his lighter once more after having lit his friend's cigarette. "It's a way for us to show we care about you, Johnny. I'd swear on my life no one else even notices you don't like it...that you practically flinch every time we call you that. Not even Sodapop. I didn't even see it 'til 'bout a week ago. I really don't even mean to use it, neither, it just sorta comes out. Sorry." He finished awkwardly.
"Don't even worry 'bout it, Ponyboy. I'm just afraid some of the other hoods or Socs'll hear it someday and I'll never live it down." Johnny replied uncomfortably, his friend's graceful limb sliding from around his shoulders.
"Shoot, Johnny, we'd never do that to ya. And even if someone did hear it, Dally or Two-Bit would put 'em in their place." He proclaimed surely. "Anybody that tried to hurt ya would get the tar beat out of 'em by anyone in the gang. Even me." He affirmed cheekily.
"Yeah, that's for sure." Johnny agreed quietly, grinning as he pictured the scene.
"Hey!" Ponyboy suddenly exclaimed, startling both Johnny and himself into stillness. At his friend's questioning look, he stated, "You never answered my question." The blank stare he received in response prompted him to elaborate. "I asked you about the gang-why they were actin' so strange 'bout me bein' jumped and all."
"Ahh," Johnny began, his features brightening with understanding. "I still can't believe you haven't figured it out already- I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."
Ponyboy made a face at his friend's choice of words, and the easy manner in which they were delivered, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the pavement in embarrassment.
"Shoot, Johnny, I dunno why everyone thinks that anyhow. Ya'll are always goin' on 'bout how I got no common sense."
"Heck, never mind that; you're probly smarter than the whole lot of us put together." Johnny declared cheerfully, cuffing Ponyboy upside the head in good humour.
"Ouch! Cut it out!" Ponyboy exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head as he mumbled impatiently, "Anyway, enough 'bout my brains and all...are you ever gonna get to the point?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm getting' there." Said Johnny tolerantly. "Anyone ever told you that you change moods too damn quick?"
"No quicker than anyone else in the gang. I mean, look at Dally and Two-Bit- they're their usual selves one minute, then the next they're all protective like Darry. And Darry, he's angry, then suddenly worried in like a split second. Don't even get me started on Steve... golly, makes my head spin tryin' to figure the gang out."
Johnny chuckled, shaking his head in bemusement. "Yeah, I can sure see why- heck, you're blind as bat. I can't believe that you don't see it; they're tryin' to protect us-you and me-'cause we're the youngest. They think we're helpless or somethin', 'cause we're smaller and everything, so they think they gotta protect us, watch out for us."
Ponyboy simply blinked at the revelation, his face a blank as he considered it. After a moment or so, his brow creased in anger, eyes clouding over to a stormy-grey.
"Well that ain't true! I know that's why Darry's always on my case, 'cause he's watchin' out for me, and same with Soda, but I thought the other guys thought I was one of them. I don't need them to watch out for me just 'cause I'm smaller-I can take care of myself!"
"Pony, it ain't a question of whether or not we can take care of ourselves. The whole gang knows you can fight, even Darry says so, but they still wanna look out for us. Shoot, I'd say they probly can't even help it." Johnny said quietly, blowing smoke rings absentmindedly.
"Yeah..." Ponyboy agreed reluctantly, "And they're not bad about it-obviously, 'cause I didn't even realise...or at least they haven't been up 'til now. Guess it's kinda my own fault anyhow though, for getting' jumped 'n all."
"It is kinda annoyin' though...I mean I can't even go anywhere by myself anymore...it was one of the only pluses to havin' non-lovin' parents, and now, POOF, gone. Just 'cause of some stupid Socs." Stated Johnny bitterly.
"Aw, shucks, Johnny, it's like you said- the gang's just watchin' out for ya. Dunno what we'd do without ya." Pony said soothingly, patting his friend on the back comfortingly, smiling when he relaxed.
The two continued walking in companionable silence, needing nothing more than each other's presence to feel at ease. It was a lovely day, the vast expanse of sky visible to their eyes cloudless and a brilliant blue, a light breeze rustling the treetops of the magnificent oaks and maples bordering both sides of the sidewalk. Ponyboy thought he could have composed a poem for the beauty of the early summer day. Bright, vivid colours, bathed in the golden radiance of the sun, weaved and danced through the mixed worlds of city and nature, giving shade and texture to aspects of such an environment that would have been dull and lacking without them.
Suddenly, Johnny felt Ponyboy freeze and tense beside him, his younger friend's demeanour unexpectedly grave when Johnny gazed at him questioningly.
"What's the matter?" the elder Greaser asked.
In response, Pony shakily pointed to the sight upon which green-grey eyes were fixated in horror.
Socs.
A red Mustang, which had before only been keeping pace with the two, was now pulling alongside the curb, its occupants eyeing them with morbid interest.
Though Ponyboy's impassive face implied courage and fearlessness, he was in possession of only one of those qualities, and as fear gripped him tightly in its icy hold, he desperately craved the other. He was terrified, almost paralysed by the all-consuming fear, for he recognised these particular arrogant, cruel embodiments of testosterone. How could he not, having crossed paths with them only the day before? And he knew, gazing into their lust-filled eyes as they ran along the dips and curves of his slim body, that they most certainly recognised him as well.
He didn't realise that he was slowly, yet relentlessly, backing away until he encountered a solid resistance in his path of retreat, forcing him to halt. He then dazedly heard Johnny's soft voice murmuring in his ear.
"Ponyboy, let's split. We can make it to the lot if we run, and if they follow us, the whole gang will be there to back us up. Let's go, on the count of three."
Ponyboy snapped out of his stupor just in time to hear Johnny whisper"...three!" Then they were running; Pony slowing his steps just enough to stay in time with Johnny as they flew across the pavement. Their footsteps pounded against the concrete as they ran, both unaware of whether they were being chased or not, and minds focussed only on reaching their destination.
The two slowed only when entering the lot, and by then, Johnny was completely out of breath, sucking in great mouthfuls of air as he massaged a stitch in his side.
"Man," he gasped, "I really gotta stop smokin'."
Ponyboy, only slightly breathless, laughed lightly, though there was still a nervous edge to it. "Yeah," he agreed, "that's what Coach keeps telling me too."
They slowly approached the rest of the gang where they stood assembled in the middle of the football field, right on the 50 yard line, discussing it would seem, as they drew closer, the teams.
"Nah, that ain't fair! You can't have Darry AND Steve!" Two-Bit exclaimed, idly juggling his switch and the weatherworn football. Sodapop was watching him with a mixture of amusement and exasperation and he quickly snatched the football out of mid-air before the blade, having escaped Two-Bit's clutches, could pierce its leather skin. The rusty-haired Greaser's only response to Soda's cocked eyebrow was a sheepish grin as the switch fell harmlessly to the ground.
Soda's rolling eyes caught sight of Johnny and Ponyboy first, and his trademark grin lit up his handsome face as he greeted them exuberantly.
"'Bout time you guys got here!" he cried, bounding over to them like an excited puppy.
"Yeah, well we were..." Johnny's voice trailed off at a pointed look from Ponyboy, and glancing back at Sodapop, he merely shrugged, leaving the sentence unfinished. Soda's liquid brown eyes flitted back and forth between the two youngest gang members, and it seemed that after a few moments he finally drew some sort of conclusion from his observations, because he demanded, in a tone that brooked no argument, "What happened?"
Ponyboy opened his mouth to speak, but Soda beat him to it. "And don't even think about lyin', 'cause you're both horrible at it." He said firmly. "So fess up, come on."
Johnny sighed, and spotting Ponyboy's set jaw, he realised that it would be him that would have to speak, as it seemed Pony would prefer to take knowledge of the whole incident to his grave. And he said the rest of the gang was overreacting. Yeah, right.
"We just ran into a few Socs is all." Johnny said casually.
"Man, seems like you're havin' awful bad luck lately, eh, Ponyboy? A run-in with Socs two days in a row; that's gotta be some kinda record." Soda offered with a slight grin, and at his words, all the tension drained from Ponyboy's shoulders.
It was obvious he'd expected his brother to lose his temper, judging by the nervous way Pony had been eyeing the wheat-haired Greaser. However, to Soda's credit, he could take everything in stride and react to any circumstances with a grin. It was one of the reasons Ponyboy adored him so much, particularly since, though Pony knew Soda was angry, his brother was putting that ability to good use at that moment, just for his sake.
"What's this I hear about Socs?" Came a deep, husky voice from behind them.
Turning to face Two-Bit, and the rest of the gang, as they gathered round, Johnny proceeded to explain shortly what had happened. His manner was crisp and direct, which in itself was rare, so the rest of the gang wisely decided not to press the subject, particularly since Ponyboy hadn't uttered a word the entire time.
It was clear, however, that the five other Greasers were very ill at ease with the situation, and at the very least, intensely angry. Dally's ice-blue eyes had lingered on Ponyboy the whole time, and a slow-burning fire was sizzling through his veins, building up gradually to a red-hot rage as he thought of the harm that could have come to the two youngest of the group. He realised he would eventually explode with the force of it, but knew he could postpone that moment until he was in more, appropriate, company. Say, that of perhaps a few West-Side rich kids?
Suddenly, wide misty-green eyes lifted from their lowered gaze to meet those resembling blue chips of ice in a level gaze, and Dally was shocked at the electric charge that sped along his nerves from simply losing himself in those amazingly expressive eyes. At that particular moment, he could see fear, anger and shock lurking in the stunning depths, but as his eyes held those of the younger Greaser, he could imagine those striking orbs darkening to stormy clouds in passion, full lips parting in moans of pure pleasure...
Unable to bear the lustful thoughts that were forming all too easily in his mind, Dally looked away, catching Soda's dark eyes on him as he did so. The coffee-coloured orbs held a clear warning: stay away.
He would have to tread carefully around the Curtis brothers from this moment forward, he decided, because Sodapop, though good-natured, was entirely too perceptive, and Darry was no fool either. And it went without saying that they would skin him alive if they thought he was going to make a move on their baby brother. As for Pony...well, Dally was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his wits about him when in the company of the youngest member of the gang. Ever since he'd rescued the vulnerable Ponyboy from the hands of those Socs, all he could think about when looking at the youngest Curtis was what it would feel like to have that slender, supple body beneath him, to ravish those full, rose lips... He was torn between base desire and a surprising need to protect the younger boy. However, acting on either was an excellent way to get the tar beat out of him by the two elder Curtis'.
Oh well, it's not like he wasn't used to that.
So sorry this took so long, but please, review and tell me if you liked!
killslay: Oh, no problem about clearing up the overprotective gang thing...thanks for asking me about it. Sorry if some of the stuff isn't clear; I try to make everything fit, but sometimes it doesn't work out that way. *sheepish grin*. So, if you have any more questions, please ask! But you'll just have to wait and see what happens...
ModestVanity: Thank you! After I write a chapter, I always look for your reviews, because it just makes me feel so good to hear from you, not just for your very welcome praise, but it's just awesome to see that you're enjoying the story so much! Thanks for your support, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!
Tashue: I haven't really been reading much lately...is your fic posted yet? Anyway, thanks, I always try to make endings have an impact...they are, for me, key elements in chapters, because they make people want to come back and keep reading. But, yeah, I love the movie...Dally was great-Matt Dillon is VERY hot, but I think Rob Lowe is gorgeous! He wasn't in the movie enough, though. *sigh* Oh, well. Please, keep reviewing!
Hell's Angels: LOL! The scene between you and Heaven's Demons made me laugh, but I'm glad you both like the story, even if you can't agree on a pairing. Hope to hear from you again.
cassie: Yeah, Dally does die in the book, but remember, this is fanfiction; anything can happen! *mysterious music* Oooo, scary...
Courtney M.: Yeah, Dally definitely does seem cold, but maybe Ponyboy could warm him up? Geez, that was so cheesy, but anyway, Two-Bit getting skinned alive does make somewhat of an amusing picture, doesn't it? Well, we'll see...glad you like the story-you keep reviewing, and I'll keep updating (even if the story is progressing VERY slowly).
Thanks also go out to Lin, tt, Mouse, cat, litzy bitsy, ~Lupin~, molly, redrose2310 (by the way, Johnny wasn't raped, just beat up), arimel, BlackRose1356, Hanah, david, True-Slytherin-gurl, whitney, brian-blaze15, Chibi-Aya-chan and MissLKid! Thanks loads, you guys! Keep reviewing!
Chapter 4: "Further Encounters"
Johnny entered the Curtis home to the sound of blaring cartoons, a spotless kitchen, and Ponyboy, dressed in slightly loose jeans that hung low on slender hips, and a large, dark green T-shirt, perched on the arm of the large sofa, grinning as he greeted his best friend.
"Hey, Johnnnycake, how ya doin'?" he said brightly, raising a hand in greeting as the slam of the screen door attracted his attention. A cigarette dangled precariously from his mouth, but inhaling deeply one last time, Ponyboy put in out in the ashtray that lay on the coffee table. It was one that Two-Bit had swiped from the DX, and the gas station's bright red logo peeked out from beneath a pile of undoubtedly fresh ashes.
Johnny managed to plaster on a half-smile as he approached the younger Greaser, but his eyes caught and lingered on the bruise colouring Ponyboy's jaw, and smile faltering, he sighed deeply.
"This is getting outta control..." He murmured thoughtfully, dark eyes uneasy.
Green-grey eyes slid upwards in annoyance as Ponyboy threw himself onto the couch, groaning, "Not you too!" He made a muffled sound of exasperation. "Everybody's been treatin' this whole thing like I almost died or somethin'."
'And they don't even know the half of it.' He added mentally, a shiver running down his spine as menacing faces flashed across his mind's eye.
Johnny studied his younger friend thoughtfully as he claimed Ponyboy's discarded position on the arm of the chair, and replied quietly, "They're just worried. You can't blame 'em, Pony, they care about you."
The auburn-haired boy sighed deeply, eyes closing in resignation, dark lashes standing out in stark contrast to creamy skin.
"I know they do," he began softly, "but I don't get why they're makin' this great big fuss...it's not a huge deal."
Johnny laughed lightly, causing Ponyboy to open his eyes and sit up in confusion. Eyebrows drew together in bewilderment as the younger Greaser waited impatiently for his friend to continue, and when it became apparent that Johnny wasn't going to elaborate, Pony demanded, irritation plainly visible, "What?"
The dark-haired boy grinned unabashedly, his mood lightening unexpectedly as he teased his younger friend. He drew a leg up to his chest, resting his chin on the knee, as his other leg dangled off the couch, and Ponyboy marvelled at the relaxed pose, one he rarely ever saw his friend assume as a result of his recent assault and abusive family. Studying his friend's rich chocolate eyes, suddenly bright, Pony was saddened to realise that he was one of the only people ever to see Johnny happy, and he couldn't help but think that everyone else was missing out.
Ponyboy-as well as the rest of the gang-knew that Johnny was a rare type of person, one that a lucky few had the privilege of keeping company with during the span of their lifetimes, and should cherish. And with that knowledge, they certainly did their best, especially considering the abominable circumstances of Johnny's home life, to care for him, and make sure he knew his own worth.
'It ain't fair that Johnny has to live like that,' Ponyboy thought resentfully, 'with those, those people as his parents...he don't deserve it...he don't deserve bein' a Greaser...none of us do...'
"Whoo-hoo, Ponyboy!"
Ponyboy snapped back to reality as Johnny's voice rang out in the room, loud enough to wake a horde of sleeping bears out of hibernation, or, more astonishingly, Two-Bit out of a drunk stupor. He deftly caught the wrist of the hand moving back and forth incessantly across his field of vision in a waving motion, and laughed at the surprise on Johnny's face.
"What's with you?" Pony asked laughingly.
A squeak of indignation escaped Johnny's mouth before he could stop himself. "What's with ME? YOU'RE the one that was off in the clouds" he shot back huffily, pouting childishly. He regarded his absent-minded friend thoughtfully, and his voice adopted a slightly pensive tone. "I could swear you live in a dreamworld or somethin' sometimes, Ponyboy."
"Nah," Pony replied without hesitation, grinning broadly "I'm just imaginative." He concluded brightly with a great flourish of hands in indication of a well-rehearsed reply to such a comment.
"You say that way too often for it to be true, Pony. Besides, what's the difference?" Johnny asked, chuckling good-naturedly.
"I could take the time to explain that, Johnnycake," Ponyboy said sweetly, sniggering as Johnny stuck out his tongue at the use of the popular nickname. "But we've been over this loads of times before anyway, and-"
"Yeah, yeah, it's just too subtle a difference for me to grasp and blah blah." Johnny interrupted unapologetically. "Y'know, I really think these insults to my intelligence are getting' outta hand."
Ponyboy mock-glared at him. "Well, you deserve it for interruptin' me, Johnny Cade. But you'll just have to lick your wounds later, 'cause we got a football game to get to. The others have started already, and I told 'em we'd come as soon as you got here."
He sprang up from his place on the couch and sprinted out the door and down the porch steps, stopping only when he realised Johnny was following at a much more moderate pace.
"John-ny!" he whined as his friend stepped out into the bright morning sunlight. "Hurry up!"
"Aw, calm down, Pony, I can't run as fast as you anyway. 'Sides, it's your own fault for callin' me Johnnycake."
Ponyboy laughed outright, the joyous sound loud and sweet, full lips stretched into an impossibly large smile.
"I can't believe you really hate the name that much, Johnny." Pony said, eyes sparkling with mirth. "I mean, the whole gang calls you Johnnycake-it can't be that bad."
Johnny eyed him doubtfully. "That's what you think. It's a little kid name, Pony, and I'm supposed to be a big, tough Greaser. Tuff. How am I supposed to be tuff with a nickname that ends in a food, huh?"
Ponyboy bowed his head, letting sun-streaked auburn hair across his face like a silk curtain while he attempted to muffle his giggles by stuffing his fist in his mouth. However, it appeared that he didn't do a very good job.
Johnny sighed, a pained expression gracing his tanned features as he took in the painfully obvious scene. "Go ahead; laugh out loud."
Ponyboy obeyed instantly, his slender form bent over, hands on his knees, with the force of his laughter. Calming down after a few moments, Pony stood up straight, shoving gold-tinted auburn locks out of his face and observing his closest friend, a wide grin still adorning his lovely countenance.
"Sorry, Johnny, but you gotta admit, it's kinda funny." Pony said in a voice still slightly breathless from laughter, green-grey orbs alight with amusement.
"I don't gotta do nothin'." Johnny argued, fishing in the pocket of his leather jacket for a smoke as they resumed walking. "It ain't funny...I don't know why you guys call me that anyway...it's a fine stupid name."
"It ain't nothin' of the sort." Ponyboy reasoned as he slung an arm around Johnny's shoulders, pocketing his lighter once more after having lit his friend's cigarette. "It's a way for us to show we care about you, Johnny. I'd swear on my life no one else even notices you don't like it...that you practically flinch every time we call you that. Not even Sodapop. I didn't even see it 'til 'bout a week ago. I really don't even mean to use it, neither, it just sorta comes out. Sorry." He finished awkwardly.
"Don't even worry 'bout it, Ponyboy. I'm just afraid some of the other hoods or Socs'll hear it someday and I'll never live it down." Johnny replied uncomfortably, his friend's graceful limb sliding from around his shoulders.
"Shoot, Johnny, we'd never do that to ya. And even if someone did hear it, Dally or Two-Bit would put 'em in their place." He proclaimed surely. "Anybody that tried to hurt ya would get the tar beat out of 'em by anyone in the gang. Even me." He affirmed cheekily.
"Yeah, that's for sure." Johnny agreed quietly, grinning as he pictured the scene.
"Hey!" Ponyboy suddenly exclaimed, startling both Johnny and himself into stillness. At his friend's questioning look, he stated, "You never answered my question." The blank stare he received in response prompted him to elaborate. "I asked you about the gang-why they were actin' so strange 'bout me bein' jumped and all."
"Ahh," Johnny began, his features brightening with understanding. "I still can't believe you haven't figured it out already- I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."
Ponyboy made a face at his friend's choice of words, and the easy manner in which they were delivered, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the pavement in embarrassment.
"Shoot, Johnny, I dunno why everyone thinks that anyhow. Ya'll are always goin' on 'bout how I got no common sense."
"Heck, never mind that; you're probly smarter than the whole lot of us put together." Johnny declared cheerfully, cuffing Ponyboy upside the head in good humour.
"Ouch! Cut it out!" Ponyboy exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head as he mumbled impatiently, "Anyway, enough 'bout my brains and all...are you ever gonna get to the point?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm getting' there." Said Johnny tolerantly. "Anyone ever told you that you change moods too damn quick?"
"No quicker than anyone else in the gang. I mean, look at Dally and Two-Bit- they're their usual selves one minute, then the next they're all protective like Darry. And Darry, he's angry, then suddenly worried in like a split second. Don't even get me started on Steve... golly, makes my head spin tryin' to figure the gang out."
Johnny chuckled, shaking his head in bemusement. "Yeah, I can sure see why- heck, you're blind as bat. I can't believe that you don't see it; they're tryin' to protect us-you and me-'cause we're the youngest. They think we're helpless or somethin', 'cause we're smaller and everything, so they think they gotta protect us, watch out for us."
Ponyboy simply blinked at the revelation, his face a blank as he considered it. After a moment or so, his brow creased in anger, eyes clouding over to a stormy-grey.
"Well that ain't true! I know that's why Darry's always on my case, 'cause he's watchin' out for me, and same with Soda, but I thought the other guys thought I was one of them. I don't need them to watch out for me just 'cause I'm smaller-I can take care of myself!"
"Pony, it ain't a question of whether or not we can take care of ourselves. The whole gang knows you can fight, even Darry says so, but they still wanna look out for us. Shoot, I'd say they probly can't even help it." Johnny said quietly, blowing smoke rings absentmindedly.
"Yeah..." Ponyboy agreed reluctantly, "And they're not bad about it-obviously, 'cause I didn't even realise...or at least they haven't been up 'til now. Guess it's kinda my own fault anyhow though, for getting' jumped 'n all."
"It is kinda annoyin' though...I mean I can't even go anywhere by myself anymore...it was one of the only pluses to havin' non-lovin' parents, and now, POOF, gone. Just 'cause of some stupid Socs." Stated Johnny bitterly.
"Aw, shucks, Johnny, it's like you said- the gang's just watchin' out for ya. Dunno what we'd do without ya." Pony said soothingly, patting his friend on the back comfortingly, smiling when he relaxed.
The two continued walking in companionable silence, needing nothing more than each other's presence to feel at ease. It was a lovely day, the vast expanse of sky visible to their eyes cloudless and a brilliant blue, a light breeze rustling the treetops of the magnificent oaks and maples bordering both sides of the sidewalk. Ponyboy thought he could have composed a poem for the beauty of the early summer day. Bright, vivid colours, bathed in the golden radiance of the sun, weaved and danced through the mixed worlds of city and nature, giving shade and texture to aspects of such an environment that would have been dull and lacking without them.
Suddenly, Johnny felt Ponyboy freeze and tense beside him, his younger friend's demeanour unexpectedly grave when Johnny gazed at him questioningly.
"What's the matter?" the elder Greaser asked.
In response, Pony shakily pointed to the sight upon which green-grey eyes were fixated in horror.
Socs.
A red Mustang, which had before only been keeping pace with the two, was now pulling alongside the curb, its occupants eyeing them with morbid interest.
Though Ponyboy's impassive face implied courage and fearlessness, he was in possession of only one of those qualities, and as fear gripped him tightly in its icy hold, he desperately craved the other. He was terrified, almost paralysed by the all-consuming fear, for he recognised these particular arrogant, cruel embodiments of testosterone. How could he not, having crossed paths with them only the day before? And he knew, gazing into their lust-filled eyes as they ran along the dips and curves of his slim body, that they most certainly recognised him as well.
He didn't realise that he was slowly, yet relentlessly, backing away until he encountered a solid resistance in his path of retreat, forcing him to halt. He then dazedly heard Johnny's soft voice murmuring in his ear.
"Ponyboy, let's split. We can make it to the lot if we run, and if they follow us, the whole gang will be there to back us up. Let's go, on the count of three."
Ponyboy snapped out of his stupor just in time to hear Johnny whisper"...three!" Then they were running; Pony slowing his steps just enough to stay in time with Johnny as they flew across the pavement. Their footsteps pounded against the concrete as they ran, both unaware of whether they were being chased or not, and minds focussed only on reaching their destination.
The two slowed only when entering the lot, and by then, Johnny was completely out of breath, sucking in great mouthfuls of air as he massaged a stitch in his side.
"Man," he gasped, "I really gotta stop smokin'."
Ponyboy, only slightly breathless, laughed lightly, though there was still a nervous edge to it. "Yeah," he agreed, "that's what Coach keeps telling me too."
They slowly approached the rest of the gang where they stood assembled in the middle of the football field, right on the 50 yard line, discussing it would seem, as they drew closer, the teams.
"Nah, that ain't fair! You can't have Darry AND Steve!" Two-Bit exclaimed, idly juggling his switch and the weatherworn football. Sodapop was watching him with a mixture of amusement and exasperation and he quickly snatched the football out of mid-air before the blade, having escaped Two-Bit's clutches, could pierce its leather skin. The rusty-haired Greaser's only response to Soda's cocked eyebrow was a sheepish grin as the switch fell harmlessly to the ground.
Soda's rolling eyes caught sight of Johnny and Ponyboy first, and his trademark grin lit up his handsome face as he greeted them exuberantly.
"'Bout time you guys got here!" he cried, bounding over to them like an excited puppy.
"Yeah, well we were..." Johnny's voice trailed off at a pointed look from Ponyboy, and glancing back at Sodapop, he merely shrugged, leaving the sentence unfinished. Soda's liquid brown eyes flitted back and forth between the two youngest gang members, and it seemed that after a few moments he finally drew some sort of conclusion from his observations, because he demanded, in a tone that brooked no argument, "What happened?"
Ponyboy opened his mouth to speak, but Soda beat him to it. "And don't even think about lyin', 'cause you're both horrible at it." He said firmly. "So fess up, come on."
Johnny sighed, and spotting Ponyboy's set jaw, he realised that it would be him that would have to speak, as it seemed Pony would prefer to take knowledge of the whole incident to his grave. And he said the rest of the gang was overreacting. Yeah, right.
"We just ran into a few Socs is all." Johnny said casually.
"Man, seems like you're havin' awful bad luck lately, eh, Ponyboy? A run-in with Socs two days in a row; that's gotta be some kinda record." Soda offered with a slight grin, and at his words, all the tension drained from Ponyboy's shoulders.
It was obvious he'd expected his brother to lose his temper, judging by the nervous way Pony had been eyeing the wheat-haired Greaser. However, to Soda's credit, he could take everything in stride and react to any circumstances with a grin. It was one of the reasons Ponyboy adored him so much, particularly since, though Pony knew Soda was angry, his brother was putting that ability to good use at that moment, just for his sake.
"What's this I hear about Socs?" Came a deep, husky voice from behind them.
Turning to face Two-Bit, and the rest of the gang, as they gathered round, Johnny proceeded to explain shortly what had happened. His manner was crisp and direct, which in itself was rare, so the rest of the gang wisely decided not to press the subject, particularly since Ponyboy hadn't uttered a word the entire time.
It was clear, however, that the five other Greasers were very ill at ease with the situation, and at the very least, intensely angry. Dally's ice-blue eyes had lingered on Ponyboy the whole time, and a slow-burning fire was sizzling through his veins, building up gradually to a red-hot rage as he thought of the harm that could have come to the two youngest of the group. He realised he would eventually explode with the force of it, but knew he could postpone that moment until he was in more, appropriate, company. Say, that of perhaps a few West-Side rich kids?
Suddenly, wide misty-green eyes lifted from their lowered gaze to meet those resembling blue chips of ice in a level gaze, and Dally was shocked at the electric charge that sped along his nerves from simply losing himself in those amazingly expressive eyes. At that particular moment, he could see fear, anger and shock lurking in the stunning depths, but as his eyes held those of the younger Greaser, he could imagine those striking orbs darkening to stormy clouds in passion, full lips parting in moans of pure pleasure...
Unable to bear the lustful thoughts that were forming all too easily in his mind, Dally looked away, catching Soda's dark eyes on him as he did so. The coffee-coloured orbs held a clear warning: stay away.
He would have to tread carefully around the Curtis brothers from this moment forward, he decided, because Sodapop, though good-natured, was entirely too perceptive, and Darry was no fool either. And it went without saying that they would skin him alive if they thought he was going to make a move on their baby brother. As for Pony...well, Dally was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his wits about him when in the company of the youngest member of the gang. Ever since he'd rescued the vulnerable Ponyboy from the hands of those Socs, all he could think about when looking at the youngest Curtis was what it would feel like to have that slender, supple body beneath him, to ravish those full, rose lips... He was torn between base desire and a surprising need to protect the younger boy. However, acting on either was an excellent way to get the tar beat out of him by the two elder Curtis'.
Oh well, it's not like he wasn't used to that.
So sorry this took so long, but please, review and tell me if you liked!