*Look to chapter one for warnings and disclaimers.
LadyJessy: Thanks a bunch! Happy to hear that you like the story, and I do apologise for the lack of updates, but writer's block is like a leech sometimes; annoying, really hard to get rid of and quite painful (well, actually, the painful part only comes true when readers come through on death threats or the like). And how about we just say Soda's REALLY perceptive? LOL. Thanks again!
CrazeLilDreamer: Omigosh, such praise! I'm so flattered, thank you! Please, keep reviewing, that totally made my day (and a few other ones, when I went back and read it again).
killslay: Yeah, I felt quite a bit of sympathy towards both Pony and Johnny during that chapter myself, but I refuse to be held responsible for their angst; it's my muse! And you're right, Dally's in quite a pickle, isn't he?
Holly: *blushes* Thank you!! I know what you mean about the slash; I've literally combed through the entire Outsiders section looking for it, and there are some really good stories by Tashue and Silent Dirge.have you read them? Yes, there are so many possibilities for conflict, it's delicious! Rambling? Well, your rambling is ALWAYS appreciated here.ramble as much as you like! *grins*
Tashue: Why, you're welcome! Thank you for the compliment! And your waiting has now come to an end.DUN DUN DUN.here is the chapter! It's nice and long too, so please review! *grins* I love your reviews.
WuffieLuver: You flatter me.but please, continue. LOL. Glad to know this qualifies as a good slash fic, and I hope you enjoy the chapter! Ooo, and the pairing, well, it could be either.or both.or neither.IT'S A SURPRISE! I do have to make sure you keep reading and reviewing after all. Hint, hint, nudge, nudge. LOL. Thanks again!
PonyboyXSodapopXDarry: LOL! I laughed when I read your review, but, *ahem*, the threat was VERY menacing, I swear. Thank you for the comments, flattery will get you everywhere with author! LOL, hope you enjoy and please review!
Black_Cat03: Thanks! Hmm, well Pony's a redhead, that's close enough to blonde, right? LOL, here's the update, please review!
Mr.Liz: THANK YOU! I'm giving you the biggest thank you because it was you that really made me get up off my ass and defeat my evil writer's block in order to finish this chapter. You were totally right when you said I should update because you took the time to review, so thank you once again, and I'm dedicating this chapter to you!
Also, my thanks go out to Joce, Silent Dirge (I love your fics), Yasha T, Spikes-luvr-4ever, Lin and Layton 1988! THANKS GUYS!
Chapter Five: "Confusion"
The ice-blue eyes burning into his back were a distinct presence; Dally's gaze never wavered, and Ponyboy could feel the level of tension between them lift a few notches as those eyes roamed leisurely over the length of his slim body, leaving a pleasant tingling sensation in their wake. He shivered, for it was as though the path those intense orbs had taken had been traced instead by rough, callused fingers; Dally's fingers. He could imagine how it would feel, even as he pictured it in his mind. Long fingers skimming lightly over narrow shoulders, dipping slightly to brush teasingly against sensitive collarbones, then retreating down the curved spine in a whispery caress. They would slide outwards in arcs as they progressed, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on jutting hips before slim digits, increasing in pressure as they proceeded further down, glided along the sensual curve of tight, round buttocks.
He nearly gasped aloud as he felt heat gather in his body, nearly fully aroused at the mere thought of Dally's touch.
Dally. That's what had jolted him back to reality. He was fantasising about a friend, a fellow gang member. He couldn't allow it to happen again, even if his developing body insisted upon such outrageous responses to the thought of his tow-headed friend. Though there was no denying that it would indeed be pleasurable.
He trembled, though whether with desire or fear he had no idea, for no matter how pleasant the feeling, it was also unnerving, disturbing, the effect that Dally's gaze had on him. To be fair, it was no mere gaze, by any means; it felt as though he had been the sole focus of Dally's attention since they'd walked through the door to the Curtis home. An improbable notion, he realised, considering the fact that most of the gang had been nursing mild scrapes and bruises since they'd arrived, courtesy of a three hour-long football game. However, it felt as though the moment he'd stepped into the house, Dally's eyes had landed resolutely on him and hadn't shifted from his form since then. It would seem that the tow-headed Greaser, if his watchful gaze was any indication, was more than mildly unsettled by the recent events of the previous day and of that very morning.
Originally, the gang had let it go, hadn't protested overmuch when Johnny told them rather forcefully to forget about the entire incident, and had proceeded to continue on with arrangements for teams and the like. Once everything was settled, ruffled feathers (over small disagreements, mainly resumed arguments between Soda and Two-Bit concerning the division of players) smoothed, the gang had played a fair few hours of hardcore, tackle football. Only Pony's light injuries were taken into consideration when playing, and so each member of the gang was sporting at least a few cuts and bruises when they called it a day. Lingering outside the lot, relaxed and aching comfortably, the subject of Socs came up when Steve, pride wounded from the game's loss and always one to dredge up an old subject, commented sourly on his team's defeat.
"We only lost 'cause he," jerking his thumb in Ponyboy's direction with a frown, "had the ball when you guys scored that last touchdown. It's not like we could tackle him."
Green-grey eyes flared, but Ponyboy remained silent, accustomed to Steve's typical derogatory remarks. Surprisingly enough, it was Dally, ice orbs flashing angrily, who came to his defence, before anyone else could.
"Shut yer mouth, Randle. We didn't go that easy on him. 'Sides, it's not his fault Socs jumped him-they're all over the place." He snapped, voice adopting a familiar edge. "I was talking to Shepard the other day, an' he told me that Socs got his brother right after he got outta the reformatory. They'd been waitin' for him." a sarcastic edge crept into his voice, "wanted to, 'welcome him home'. Bastards." He spat, seriousness vanishing as anger returned full force, pulsating from him in waves. Fury evident in both his posture and tone, though whether it was directed at Steve or the Socs was hard to determine, and for the most part, the gang decided to wisely keep silent.
With one exception.
Two-Bit's voice rang out cheerfully as he slung a tanned, muscular arm around Dally's shoulders, ignoring both the wince as he struck a fresh bruise and the glare it provoked from the blonde at his side. "Bet Shepard's gang got those Socs good though, eh, Dal?"
Surprisingly enough, Dally laughed humourlessly, grim pleasure etched into the chiselled features of his pale face. "Yeah, they got 'em, all right. Shepard let Curly have a go at 'em, and I bet by the end they were pretty fuckin' sorry that they ever bothered him. Hassling any member of that family's a death wish." He said, shrugging off Two-Bit's arm distractedly.
Game forgotten, Steve paused mid-swagger, facial expression pensive as he attempted to restore order to his hair, which had unravelled to complete disorder during the football match. It was a losing battle. He gave up eventually, resigned to the fact that he would have to do without his customary swirls, and testily faced a snickering Sodapop long enough to tug on Soda's own locks, which, usually a smooth waterfall of sunlit gold, was tangled and knotted. Flashing a quick grin at the glare this elicited, Steve turned to face Dally, the smile melting into a calculating look that caused warning bells to go off in Ponyboy's head. He paid close attention to Steve's words, positive he wouldn't like what he was about to hear.
"Say, Dal," Steve began slowly, dark eyes sly as they met those of the two- headed Greaser, "d'ya think Shepard would back us up against the Socs?"
Pale brows drew together thoughtfully, but Dally's face remained impassive, and his eyes never left Steve's, as though trying to bore into his mind to discover the thoughts laying within. Evidently disliking what they saw, ice eyes narrowed, and Dally spoke in low, dangerous tones.
"Ya can't be thinkin' to just jump a bunch of Socs, Randle. Fuzz would be on our tails in about two seconds flat when they got a call." He glowered at the younger Greaser when he tried to interrupt. "All of us would be chucked into the slammer no problem, even them." Eyes flicking towards Pony and Johnny, before settling on Steve's once more.
Soda cut in, chocolate eyes fierce.
"Don't forget," he snapped, "Pony could be sent to a boys home. Or do you even care? I know you don't like him, but do ya really hate him that much? To, to-" he stumbled over his words slightly in fury as he tried to shout at his best friend, but apparently decided he'd said enough, simply taking a deep breath and waiting for Steve's response, jaw set and hands balled into fists.
Steve's eyes shot to Soda, alarmed at the angry tone. Sodapop was rarely angered enough to let it show, but studying his best friend now, Steve wouldn't be surprised to see sparks shoot of those liquid brown eyes. 'Well, liquid in a molten lava kinda sense', he mused, amused at the thought as soon as it crossed his mind. 'My English teacher would be pretty damn proud.'
But on to more important things, such as how to deal with a livid Sodapop. Steve racked his brain for the right words to appease his friend, irritated when he could find none. 'This isn't fair.' he thought gloomily, eyeing his friend cautiously, and cursing the lack of experience with a furious Soda. In truth, one had to deal with an angry Sodapop so seldomly that it was impossible to form a technique in order to break him of the mood. Not to complain however, because a Curtis temper is a very dangerous and very unpleasant thing to deal with, as anyone having dealt with Darry could swear, and so Steve decided that it wasn't worth any further contemplation. He opted for something Sodapop always said to him when he was angry, but found he had no words forthcoming. Desperate, he merely gazed at him, eyes wide as saucers, gaping like a fish.
The heavy silence was broken when Ponyboy pushed past Two-Bit to get to Sodapop's side, snatching his brother's hand. Soda turned around at the insistent tugging and came face to face with his younger brother's scrutiny, a mixture of love, amusement and exasperation in the misty, swirling green depths.
"Soda, you know Steve doesn't want that. Remember, you could get sent to a boys home too, and do you really think he wants you to leave?" Pony said gently, eyes soft as he gripped his brother's long hands reassuringly.
Soda sighed, squeezing back and he graced Pony with a small smile. "No." he replied ruefully.
An answering smile lit Ponyboy's face in response, but his eyes were shadowed with worry. "Maybe we should listen to what Steve has to say then?" he ventured, searching chocolate orbs. "I promise that if whatever he says makes you mad you can rant and rave all you like. If not, then maybe an apology instead?"
The flame in chocolate irises had simmered down to a spark and Soda's handsome face was sheepish when he turned back to his friend. His lips were still thinned in disapproval, but the regret was plain to see in the expressive brown depths of his eyes.
"Sorry, Stevie, I overreacted. I know ya didn't mean it like that."
An apology, sincere too, yet Steve would've sworn he could detect an undercurrent of warning in the smooth tones, challenging him to give Soda real cause for his reaction. A quick study of the other gang members revealed nothing out of sorts, occupied as they were staring expectantly at him, but one look at the youngest of the group assured him it wasn't his imagination. Finely arched eyebrows were drawn together tightly over green- grey orbs, the smooth brow creased in a frown as Ponyboy studied his brother.
Finally, Pony heaved a sigh and Steve found those eyes on him once again. A short nod from the auburn-haired boy and Steve turned back to face Sodapop. Chocolate eyes were still fixed on him, and he buried his astonishment at his friend's protectiveness with a reckless grin.
"Don't worry, Soda, I get mad as heck all the time an' ya don't even bat an eyelash." He shrugged. "Anyhow, I probly deserved it for even lettin' you guys think that."
"Well, if it ain't that, Randle, what in hell's name are you babbling' about?" Dally snapped.
The reckless grin turned devilish.
"Why, I'm so glad you asked, Dally." He said slyly as he tugged Sodapop, who was eyeing him warily, into an one-armed hug, so he could lean heavily on his tolerant best friend. That earned him a cocked eyebrow from both blondes, and Soda tensed slightly, recognising in Steve's glittering eyes a dangerous light that he had learned long ago not to trust.
"Well, I was just askin', Dal, 'cause there ain't no point in goin' through with this rumble if we don't got Shepard. There ain't no way we'd be gettin' the Brumley boys without his help." He explained logically, patiently, as though to a child as he lit a cigarette nonchalantly. He seemed very calm, very cool. The glint in his eyes betrayed him.
Silence.
Uproarious laughter erupted from Two-Bit, a bark-like chuckle from Dally, both of whom slapped him enthusiastically on the back, punching him playfully. Ponyboy watched with wide eyes, feeling the beginnings of foreboding press upon the edges of his mind.
"Knew there was a reason we were friends, Randle." Dally said ruefully. "Shoula known you'd come up with a crazy idea like that." A rare grin. " There ain't been a rumble fer years. It's crazy."
Ice eyes passed briefly over Ponyboy's pale face, flicking then to Johnny's, before hardening with resolve. They sought out Steve's once more, voice now devoid of any humour. "I'm all for it."
Steve nodded solemnly, though a smirk played at the edges of thin lips, and he directed a raised an eyebrow towards the rest of the gang, expectant. Two-Bit's face-splitting grin was answer enough.
Ponyboy, meanwhile, had frozen, his feet cemented to the ground and mouth sealed shut. Stricken eyes were wide with shock as they darted incessantly between faces, his own delicate features purposefully blank to mask the nervous fear he felt in his bones.
A quick glance at his best friend told him that Johnny was more than reluctant about the idea as well. The expression on the tanned countenance was cool, but dark orbs were deathly frightened. 'No wonder too', Pony thought, his eyes fixed on the small scar marring the smooth flesh of a high cheekbone, 'he got hurt bad. What happened to me's nothin' to what they did to him.' The thought was terribly unsettling in the face of his own fear and so Pony's gaze found a new face.
Soda, strangely enough, seemed more or less appeased at the suggestion, his lively eyes practically glowing with anticipation. He should have known really; Soda could never resist a good fight, no matter what his behaviour might suggest, and he never stayed mad for long (barring the obvious grudge against the Socs). Besides, his brother wasn't stupid; Sodapop knew well the difference between jumping someone and a rumble, just like every other Greaser did, and, just like every other Greaser, he jumped at the chance to beat a few Socs on even ground, in a fair fight.
Darry's reaction was predictable enough as well; he didn't respond, didn't even show any really visible sign that he'd heard the conversation, but his eyes- hard blue-green orbs, akin to a lake frozen to solid ice with winter's first frost- were answer enough. Dally and Two-Bit continued voicing their support vocally as Steve carried on about vengeance, perverse anticipation darkening the sharp angles of his face. Darry simply nodded, indicating he was all for whatever Steve had in mind, but before Steve could say much, Pony found himself protesting violently.
"Don't you guys ever think?" he demanded heatedly, beginning to tremble. "Ya can't just go fightin' the Socs; it's a STUPID idea!"
Six pairs of eyes shot to the youngest of the group, taking in the pale, drawn face, somewhat angry, but nakedly fearful. Soda and Two-Bit's mouths shut with audible clicks, appearing properly abashed. Not surprisingly, Steve simply scowled, while Johnny's face showed immense relief. Darry's countenance was ever impassive and Dally openly glared at him, displaying stubbornness in equal measure to Ponyboy as the two engaged in a shouting match.
"We can't just let 'em get away with this. If they think they can, they'll just keep attackin' us!" Dally exploded.
"But we can't just go runnin' around jumpin' every Soc we see!" Pony exclaimed ardently, eyes sizzling emerald fire. "What d'you think'll happen, Dal, huh? The Fuzz are on THEIR side-they let Socs do whatever they want, but they'd drag us downtown in cuffs in a second if they caught even a sniff that we were causin' trouble! You know that, Dally; we ALL know it!"
The only discernible sign of defeat was the stiffening of the spine as Dally tensed, and Pony recognised it immediately. Dally was never tense; he was alert, poised, always ready for an attack, but tension implied discomfort in a situation. Dally was never tense.
But he was now, Pony realised, as the tow-headed Greaser nodded slightly to acknowledge acquiescence, then immediately turned to leave in the direction of the Curtis residence, not bothering to see if anyone followed.
It seemed to Pony as though Dally had deflated at his words despite his stiff posture, almost like a punctured football steadily losing air, and though the rage had still been present, it had seemed to be reined in as Dally considered Pony's logic. In retrospect, Pony suspected Dally had known that, had been aware of the truth of Pony's every word before they'd been spoken, but anger knows no logic or sense; it knows only the simple, all-consuming, primal urge to lash out, and so Dally had forgotten himself for a moment. He could understand that, but didn't regret at all his words. Though surprised at how easily Dally had given in, Pony gave it no real thought, so incredible was his relief. He really didn't think he'd have been able to deal with another fight so soon; the idea of a brawl made him slightly nauseous.
Not a good sign.
***
After returning to the Curtis house, Ponyboy, much to his chagrin, had been appointed the role of nursemaid, as so ordered by Darry. The youngest Greaser found himself kneeling, disgruntled and irritated, in front of a delighted Two-Bit, who revelled in the prospect of taunting and teasing him incessantly while he treated a particularly nasty cut underneath one twinkling stormy-grey eye.
"Ain't this just a picture?" Two-Bit exclaimed gleefully, running roughened fingers through silky ginger locks as Ponyboy dabbed the incision with rubbing alcohol. Green-grey eyes narrowed marginally at both the remark and the touch, expressing visually only annoyance at both, but inwardly more than a little surprised at the contact. He decided to ignore it, attempting to convince himself that it meant nothing and re-focused his attention on the cut he was bandaging.
"Ya sure are pretty enough to be a nurse, Ponyboy. Shoe fits it seems." Teasing words in an unusually serious voice, the roughened fingers migrating towards his chin, idly stroking the jaw-line.
Wide eyes resembling a thickening fog shot up to meet eyes of a darker shade of grey, the former clearly astounded, the latter's unreadable.
Now, Ponyboy had never thought of Two-Bit as a serious person; in fact, the only times he'd ever seen his good-natured friend anything other than absolutely cheerful had to do with an encounter with Socs, but at that moment his friend was. solemn. And it unnerved him.
Ponyboy studied the other Greaser intently, realising that he'd never thought much about Two-Bit at all. Apparently not only was his friend capable of being serious, but he was, Pony was startled to discover, extremely handsome as well. 'Not hard to see why the blondes flock to him.' Pony thought idly, eyes running along the chiselled features of the tanned face. At first it was innocent admiration, studying each aspect of the handsome countenance, but then the lines of Two-Bit's face began to blur into more angular ones. Sharp jaw the same.tanned skin instead of pale.easy smile as opposed to a dangerous, predatory one.stormy-grey eyes in contrast to ice blue.
Ponyboy started as he realised not only was he openly gawking at his friend, but that he was making comparisons between he and Dally. He was shocked at himself, at the revelation that he was attracted to both of the older Greasers. 'Oh, my brothers are gonna kill me.' he thought miserably.
"Pony? Y'okay, kid?" Right, Two-Bit.
Eyes downcast, a deep blush decorating high cheekbones, Ponyboy missed Two-Bit's smug grin and cocked eyebrow.
"Yeah, I'm fine, Two-Bit, and so are you. The cut'll be fine as long as ya don't pick at it like usual." A bad attempt at humour, but usually he would laugh anyway, maybe ruffling Pony's hair a bit. But Two-Bit didn't laugh, simply smirked, and Ponyboy felt his ears heat as his blush darkened.
Ponyboy stood smoothly, shaking silky auburn locks out of his eyes as he strode towards the living room, only to find a pair of ice-blue eyes staring at him from the kitchen doorway, the taller body blocking his path. Those eyes were scathing as they glared at Two-Bit, who hadn't moved an inch from his relaxed pose at the kitchen table, and simply stared evenly back, grin frozen on his face. Pony shoved awkwardly past Dally, seeking escape from the tense company of the older Greasers, and surprisingly enough, was let past.
His respite, however, was short lived, as Two-Bit sauntered in a few moments later, just to sprawl next to him on the floor, and Dally, well, Dally had stalked in right after Two-Bit, settling himself comfortably on the couch, his eyes never leaving Ponyboy's back.
So, in truth, he supposed it was only roughly ten minutes that Dally had been watching him, or in more accurate terms, scrutinising him-studying him. However, when one is confronted with such a soul-searching look, courtesy of sharp, pale eyes, charged with disconcertingly powerful emotions, and hell-bent on stripping you of all your feeble defences in an effort to see everything you are laid bare, time doesn't quite seem to be of such importance anymore. And Dally most definitely had that look perfected.
'I wonder if it's just me, or if everyone gets that kind of treatment.' Ponyboy thought with irritation, long, slender fingers running through auburn locks in exasperation. 'I mean, I ain't never seen him do that to someone else.why me?'
It was true that, though the two had always behaved in a mostly civil manner, Ponyboy and Dally had never been close, and as such, Pony was incredibly puzzled, both by his own sudden taking to the platinum-haired Greaser, and Dally's nearly protective conduct towards him.
Sighing, Ponyboy stood from his position lounging on the floor in front of the television, Two-Bit by his side. The rusty-haired Greaser barely noticed his departure, so fixated was he upon the cartoon figure of Mickey Mouse dancing across the screen, as Pony made his way into the kitchen to help Soda and Steve with dinner. However, his actions could hardly escape Dally's watchful eye, and the elder boy caught his eyes meaningfully, inclining slightly in the direction of the door. He hopped over the arm of the sofa, and slid out the door, onto the porch. Obediently, Ponyboy followed, wondering at the tow-headed Greaser's strange behaviour.
"What's up, Dal? Somethin' wrong?" Pony asked, leaning against the porch railing after pulling both the screen and oak doors firmly shut.
Dally studied him for a moment, face unreadable but manner relaxed. He remained silent, his only actions lighting a cigarette from the slightly rumpled pack of Kools, not even bothering to offer one to his companion. Ponyboy resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"What's this about, Dally? What's got ya so worked up?" He couldn't believe his own boldness. Mere days before he had felt incredibly intimidated by the cold, hard hood that was Dally Winston, but now he felt only impatient at his companion's huge amount of self-importance. 'Must be Two-Bit's influence' he decided.
One pale-blonde eyebrow raised questioningly and cool blue eyes watched him with a vague trace of surprise, thin lips spreading into a humourless smirk.
"Soda was ready to beat the tar outta Steve today." he began.
Green-grey eyes clouded over, Pony's lips automatically forming words that he didn't want to hear, especially issuing from his own mouth.
"Yeah, Social Services called yesterday.they were talkin' 'bout taking me away again," voice turning sarcastic, "'cause of the dangerous neighbourhood we live in." weary tone again, "they heard 'bout all the fights, people getting' jumped 'n all. He managed to forget about, I think, 'til earlier. It really freaked him out too.I'm just glad they didn't hear 'bout yesterday. Dunno if they will."
Dally's sharp eyes caught the tremor that wracked the slim frame as the monotone voice trailed off, and he felt rage course anew through his veins.
"Yeah, well don't worry 'bout it, kid. They ain't gonna touch ya again. I won't let 'em."
The words, as well as the tone, were final, decisive, leaving no room for doubt in Pony's mind, and when Dally saw the kernel of hope he had placed in those eyes grow, forest green banishing the cloudy grey of fear, he couldn't help himself.
Dally crossed the distance between he and Pony purposefully, sweeping the supple body of the younger boy into his strong arms, barely catching the flicker of surprise in the dazzling orbs before he laid claim to full, petal-soft lips.
He swallowed Pony's gasp of shock, concentrating only on the opportunity that it presented. He plunged his tongue in, plundering the sweet depths savagely, arms tightening around the trim waist. He felt slender fingers twine into his hair and repressed the urge to smirk, choosing instead to attempt to coax more honeyed moans from full lips.
Ponyboy thought his knees would buckle when he felt Dally's tongue move smoothly along his own, massaging the slick muscle gently, coating it with Dally's own spicy taste. He had never felt such pleasure before; at first a pleasant tingling feeling throughout his body, it had slowly escalated to a sensual burn, and he was now beginning to feel the effects of the of Dally's passion centre in his own groin. He moaned loudly at the delightful feeling, then pulled away abruptly, immediately appalled at his own wantonness.
Dally, however, wasn't willing to relinquish his hold on the younger boy so easily. As he recaptured Pony's lips, one elegant hand trailed down the slope of the slightly arched lower back, reaching down to cup a denim- encased buttock, and he squeezed gently, relishing the quick jerk of hips in response. He couldn't believe how aroused he was becoming from a simple kiss and grope, but it was sinfully sexy seeing this young thing surrender to his caresses, plead for his touch.he could take him so easily.
"No!"
Ponyboy grabbed the porch railing tightly to keep his balance as he was shoved harshly backwards. Feeling a little disoriented, he looked to Dally for an explanation, but the tow-headed Greaser's back was facing him, the spine rigid as a pole, the lean form tense. Tense again; not a good sign, just as the cry that had left Dally's lips was ominous.
"Dal?"
Dally turned at the shaky, pleading tone and almost succumbed to temptation as he spied the mussed ginger hair and swollen lips. But no, he held firm; he would not take advantage of Pony.
"Look, I gotta go, kid. I'll swing by tomorrow."
Ponyboy watched numbly as Dally stalked off, long legs carrying him quickly away. He was torn between disappointment, hurt and relief with the last flash of platinum blonde hair as the elder Greaser turned the corner, the setting sun highlighting the pale strands beautifully, with shades of red and copper.
And so Ponyboy Curtis sat heavily down on his front steps, fighting back tears at the feeling of being the most confused he'd ever been in his entire life.
**Thanks for reading guys. Remember, review and tell me what you think! So sorry about the delay but I had total writer's block; this chapter just refused to be written!
LadyJessy: Thanks a bunch! Happy to hear that you like the story, and I do apologise for the lack of updates, but writer's block is like a leech sometimes; annoying, really hard to get rid of and quite painful (well, actually, the painful part only comes true when readers come through on death threats or the like). And how about we just say Soda's REALLY perceptive? LOL. Thanks again!
CrazeLilDreamer: Omigosh, such praise! I'm so flattered, thank you! Please, keep reviewing, that totally made my day (and a few other ones, when I went back and read it again).
killslay: Yeah, I felt quite a bit of sympathy towards both Pony and Johnny during that chapter myself, but I refuse to be held responsible for their angst; it's my muse! And you're right, Dally's in quite a pickle, isn't he?
Holly: *blushes* Thank you!! I know what you mean about the slash; I've literally combed through the entire Outsiders section looking for it, and there are some really good stories by Tashue and Silent Dirge.have you read them? Yes, there are so many possibilities for conflict, it's delicious! Rambling? Well, your rambling is ALWAYS appreciated here.ramble as much as you like! *grins*
Tashue: Why, you're welcome! Thank you for the compliment! And your waiting has now come to an end.DUN DUN DUN.here is the chapter! It's nice and long too, so please review! *grins* I love your reviews.
WuffieLuver: You flatter me.but please, continue. LOL. Glad to know this qualifies as a good slash fic, and I hope you enjoy the chapter! Ooo, and the pairing, well, it could be either.or both.or neither.IT'S A SURPRISE! I do have to make sure you keep reading and reviewing after all. Hint, hint, nudge, nudge. LOL. Thanks again!
PonyboyXSodapopXDarry: LOL! I laughed when I read your review, but, *ahem*, the threat was VERY menacing, I swear. Thank you for the comments, flattery will get you everywhere with author! LOL, hope you enjoy and please review!
Black_Cat03: Thanks! Hmm, well Pony's a redhead, that's close enough to blonde, right? LOL, here's the update, please review!
Mr.Liz: THANK YOU! I'm giving you the biggest thank you because it was you that really made me get up off my ass and defeat my evil writer's block in order to finish this chapter. You were totally right when you said I should update because you took the time to review, so thank you once again, and I'm dedicating this chapter to you!
Also, my thanks go out to Joce, Silent Dirge (I love your fics), Yasha T, Spikes-luvr-4ever, Lin and Layton 1988! THANKS GUYS!
Chapter Five: "Confusion"
The ice-blue eyes burning into his back were a distinct presence; Dally's gaze never wavered, and Ponyboy could feel the level of tension between them lift a few notches as those eyes roamed leisurely over the length of his slim body, leaving a pleasant tingling sensation in their wake. He shivered, for it was as though the path those intense orbs had taken had been traced instead by rough, callused fingers; Dally's fingers. He could imagine how it would feel, even as he pictured it in his mind. Long fingers skimming lightly over narrow shoulders, dipping slightly to brush teasingly against sensitive collarbones, then retreating down the curved spine in a whispery caress. They would slide outwards in arcs as they progressed, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on jutting hips before slim digits, increasing in pressure as they proceeded further down, glided along the sensual curve of tight, round buttocks.
He nearly gasped aloud as he felt heat gather in his body, nearly fully aroused at the mere thought of Dally's touch.
Dally. That's what had jolted him back to reality. He was fantasising about a friend, a fellow gang member. He couldn't allow it to happen again, even if his developing body insisted upon such outrageous responses to the thought of his tow-headed friend. Though there was no denying that it would indeed be pleasurable.
He trembled, though whether with desire or fear he had no idea, for no matter how pleasant the feeling, it was also unnerving, disturbing, the effect that Dally's gaze had on him. To be fair, it was no mere gaze, by any means; it felt as though he had been the sole focus of Dally's attention since they'd walked through the door to the Curtis home. An improbable notion, he realised, considering the fact that most of the gang had been nursing mild scrapes and bruises since they'd arrived, courtesy of a three hour-long football game. However, it felt as though the moment he'd stepped into the house, Dally's eyes had landed resolutely on him and hadn't shifted from his form since then. It would seem that the tow-headed Greaser, if his watchful gaze was any indication, was more than mildly unsettled by the recent events of the previous day and of that very morning.
Originally, the gang had let it go, hadn't protested overmuch when Johnny told them rather forcefully to forget about the entire incident, and had proceeded to continue on with arrangements for teams and the like. Once everything was settled, ruffled feathers (over small disagreements, mainly resumed arguments between Soda and Two-Bit concerning the division of players) smoothed, the gang had played a fair few hours of hardcore, tackle football. Only Pony's light injuries were taken into consideration when playing, and so each member of the gang was sporting at least a few cuts and bruises when they called it a day. Lingering outside the lot, relaxed and aching comfortably, the subject of Socs came up when Steve, pride wounded from the game's loss and always one to dredge up an old subject, commented sourly on his team's defeat.
"We only lost 'cause he," jerking his thumb in Ponyboy's direction with a frown, "had the ball when you guys scored that last touchdown. It's not like we could tackle him."
Green-grey eyes flared, but Ponyboy remained silent, accustomed to Steve's typical derogatory remarks. Surprisingly enough, it was Dally, ice orbs flashing angrily, who came to his defence, before anyone else could.
"Shut yer mouth, Randle. We didn't go that easy on him. 'Sides, it's not his fault Socs jumped him-they're all over the place." He snapped, voice adopting a familiar edge. "I was talking to Shepard the other day, an' he told me that Socs got his brother right after he got outta the reformatory. They'd been waitin' for him." a sarcastic edge crept into his voice, "wanted to, 'welcome him home'. Bastards." He spat, seriousness vanishing as anger returned full force, pulsating from him in waves. Fury evident in both his posture and tone, though whether it was directed at Steve or the Socs was hard to determine, and for the most part, the gang decided to wisely keep silent.
With one exception.
Two-Bit's voice rang out cheerfully as he slung a tanned, muscular arm around Dally's shoulders, ignoring both the wince as he struck a fresh bruise and the glare it provoked from the blonde at his side. "Bet Shepard's gang got those Socs good though, eh, Dal?"
Surprisingly enough, Dally laughed humourlessly, grim pleasure etched into the chiselled features of his pale face. "Yeah, they got 'em, all right. Shepard let Curly have a go at 'em, and I bet by the end they were pretty fuckin' sorry that they ever bothered him. Hassling any member of that family's a death wish." He said, shrugging off Two-Bit's arm distractedly.
Game forgotten, Steve paused mid-swagger, facial expression pensive as he attempted to restore order to his hair, which had unravelled to complete disorder during the football match. It was a losing battle. He gave up eventually, resigned to the fact that he would have to do without his customary swirls, and testily faced a snickering Sodapop long enough to tug on Soda's own locks, which, usually a smooth waterfall of sunlit gold, was tangled and knotted. Flashing a quick grin at the glare this elicited, Steve turned to face Dally, the smile melting into a calculating look that caused warning bells to go off in Ponyboy's head. He paid close attention to Steve's words, positive he wouldn't like what he was about to hear.
"Say, Dal," Steve began slowly, dark eyes sly as they met those of the two- headed Greaser, "d'ya think Shepard would back us up against the Socs?"
Pale brows drew together thoughtfully, but Dally's face remained impassive, and his eyes never left Steve's, as though trying to bore into his mind to discover the thoughts laying within. Evidently disliking what they saw, ice eyes narrowed, and Dally spoke in low, dangerous tones.
"Ya can't be thinkin' to just jump a bunch of Socs, Randle. Fuzz would be on our tails in about two seconds flat when they got a call." He glowered at the younger Greaser when he tried to interrupt. "All of us would be chucked into the slammer no problem, even them." Eyes flicking towards Pony and Johnny, before settling on Steve's once more.
Soda cut in, chocolate eyes fierce.
"Don't forget," he snapped, "Pony could be sent to a boys home. Or do you even care? I know you don't like him, but do ya really hate him that much? To, to-" he stumbled over his words slightly in fury as he tried to shout at his best friend, but apparently decided he'd said enough, simply taking a deep breath and waiting for Steve's response, jaw set and hands balled into fists.
Steve's eyes shot to Soda, alarmed at the angry tone. Sodapop was rarely angered enough to let it show, but studying his best friend now, Steve wouldn't be surprised to see sparks shoot of those liquid brown eyes. 'Well, liquid in a molten lava kinda sense', he mused, amused at the thought as soon as it crossed his mind. 'My English teacher would be pretty damn proud.'
But on to more important things, such as how to deal with a livid Sodapop. Steve racked his brain for the right words to appease his friend, irritated when he could find none. 'This isn't fair.' he thought gloomily, eyeing his friend cautiously, and cursing the lack of experience with a furious Soda. In truth, one had to deal with an angry Sodapop so seldomly that it was impossible to form a technique in order to break him of the mood. Not to complain however, because a Curtis temper is a very dangerous and very unpleasant thing to deal with, as anyone having dealt with Darry could swear, and so Steve decided that it wasn't worth any further contemplation. He opted for something Sodapop always said to him when he was angry, but found he had no words forthcoming. Desperate, he merely gazed at him, eyes wide as saucers, gaping like a fish.
The heavy silence was broken when Ponyboy pushed past Two-Bit to get to Sodapop's side, snatching his brother's hand. Soda turned around at the insistent tugging and came face to face with his younger brother's scrutiny, a mixture of love, amusement and exasperation in the misty, swirling green depths.
"Soda, you know Steve doesn't want that. Remember, you could get sent to a boys home too, and do you really think he wants you to leave?" Pony said gently, eyes soft as he gripped his brother's long hands reassuringly.
Soda sighed, squeezing back and he graced Pony with a small smile. "No." he replied ruefully.
An answering smile lit Ponyboy's face in response, but his eyes were shadowed with worry. "Maybe we should listen to what Steve has to say then?" he ventured, searching chocolate orbs. "I promise that if whatever he says makes you mad you can rant and rave all you like. If not, then maybe an apology instead?"
The flame in chocolate irises had simmered down to a spark and Soda's handsome face was sheepish when he turned back to his friend. His lips were still thinned in disapproval, but the regret was plain to see in the expressive brown depths of his eyes.
"Sorry, Stevie, I overreacted. I know ya didn't mean it like that."
An apology, sincere too, yet Steve would've sworn he could detect an undercurrent of warning in the smooth tones, challenging him to give Soda real cause for his reaction. A quick study of the other gang members revealed nothing out of sorts, occupied as they were staring expectantly at him, but one look at the youngest of the group assured him it wasn't his imagination. Finely arched eyebrows were drawn together tightly over green- grey orbs, the smooth brow creased in a frown as Ponyboy studied his brother.
Finally, Pony heaved a sigh and Steve found those eyes on him once again. A short nod from the auburn-haired boy and Steve turned back to face Sodapop. Chocolate eyes were still fixed on him, and he buried his astonishment at his friend's protectiveness with a reckless grin.
"Don't worry, Soda, I get mad as heck all the time an' ya don't even bat an eyelash." He shrugged. "Anyhow, I probly deserved it for even lettin' you guys think that."
"Well, if it ain't that, Randle, what in hell's name are you babbling' about?" Dally snapped.
The reckless grin turned devilish.
"Why, I'm so glad you asked, Dally." He said slyly as he tugged Sodapop, who was eyeing him warily, into an one-armed hug, so he could lean heavily on his tolerant best friend. That earned him a cocked eyebrow from both blondes, and Soda tensed slightly, recognising in Steve's glittering eyes a dangerous light that he had learned long ago not to trust.
"Well, I was just askin', Dal, 'cause there ain't no point in goin' through with this rumble if we don't got Shepard. There ain't no way we'd be gettin' the Brumley boys without his help." He explained logically, patiently, as though to a child as he lit a cigarette nonchalantly. He seemed very calm, very cool. The glint in his eyes betrayed him.
Silence.
Uproarious laughter erupted from Two-Bit, a bark-like chuckle from Dally, both of whom slapped him enthusiastically on the back, punching him playfully. Ponyboy watched with wide eyes, feeling the beginnings of foreboding press upon the edges of his mind.
"Knew there was a reason we were friends, Randle." Dally said ruefully. "Shoula known you'd come up with a crazy idea like that." A rare grin. " There ain't been a rumble fer years. It's crazy."
Ice eyes passed briefly over Ponyboy's pale face, flicking then to Johnny's, before hardening with resolve. They sought out Steve's once more, voice now devoid of any humour. "I'm all for it."
Steve nodded solemnly, though a smirk played at the edges of thin lips, and he directed a raised an eyebrow towards the rest of the gang, expectant. Two-Bit's face-splitting grin was answer enough.
Ponyboy, meanwhile, had frozen, his feet cemented to the ground and mouth sealed shut. Stricken eyes were wide with shock as they darted incessantly between faces, his own delicate features purposefully blank to mask the nervous fear he felt in his bones.
A quick glance at his best friend told him that Johnny was more than reluctant about the idea as well. The expression on the tanned countenance was cool, but dark orbs were deathly frightened. 'No wonder too', Pony thought, his eyes fixed on the small scar marring the smooth flesh of a high cheekbone, 'he got hurt bad. What happened to me's nothin' to what they did to him.' The thought was terribly unsettling in the face of his own fear and so Pony's gaze found a new face.
Soda, strangely enough, seemed more or less appeased at the suggestion, his lively eyes practically glowing with anticipation. He should have known really; Soda could never resist a good fight, no matter what his behaviour might suggest, and he never stayed mad for long (barring the obvious grudge against the Socs). Besides, his brother wasn't stupid; Sodapop knew well the difference between jumping someone and a rumble, just like every other Greaser did, and, just like every other Greaser, he jumped at the chance to beat a few Socs on even ground, in a fair fight.
Darry's reaction was predictable enough as well; he didn't respond, didn't even show any really visible sign that he'd heard the conversation, but his eyes- hard blue-green orbs, akin to a lake frozen to solid ice with winter's first frost- were answer enough. Dally and Two-Bit continued voicing their support vocally as Steve carried on about vengeance, perverse anticipation darkening the sharp angles of his face. Darry simply nodded, indicating he was all for whatever Steve had in mind, but before Steve could say much, Pony found himself protesting violently.
"Don't you guys ever think?" he demanded heatedly, beginning to tremble. "Ya can't just go fightin' the Socs; it's a STUPID idea!"
Six pairs of eyes shot to the youngest of the group, taking in the pale, drawn face, somewhat angry, but nakedly fearful. Soda and Two-Bit's mouths shut with audible clicks, appearing properly abashed. Not surprisingly, Steve simply scowled, while Johnny's face showed immense relief. Darry's countenance was ever impassive and Dally openly glared at him, displaying stubbornness in equal measure to Ponyboy as the two engaged in a shouting match.
"We can't just let 'em get away with this. If they think they can, they'll just keep attackin' us!" Dally exploded.
"But we can't just go runnin' around jumpin' every Soc we see!" Pony exclaimed ardently, eyes sizzling emerald fire. "What d'you think'll happen, Dal, huh? The Fuzz are on THEIR side-they let Socs do whatever they want, but they'd drag us downtown in cuffs in a second if they caught even a sniff that we were causin' trouble! You know that, Dally; we ALL know it!"
The only discernible sign of defeat was the stiffening of the spine as Dally tensed, and Pony recognised it immediately. Dally was never tense; he was alert, poised, always ready for an attack, but tension implied discomfort in a situation. Dally was never tense.
But he was now, Pony realised, as the tow-headed Greaser nodded slightly to acknowledge acquiescence, then immediately turned to leave in the direction of the Curtis residence, not bothering to see if anyone followed.
It seemed to Pony as though Dally had deflated at his words despite his stiff posture, almost like a punctured football steadily losing air, and though the rage had still been present, it had seemed to be reined in as Dally considered Pony's logic. In retrospect, Pony suspected Dally had known that, had been aware of the truth of Pony's every word before they'd been spoken, but anger knows no logic or sense; it knows only the simple, all-consuming, primal urge to lash out, and so Dally had forgotten himself for a moment. He could understand that, but didn't regret at all his words. Though surprised at how easily Dally had given in, Pony gave it no real thought, so incredible was his relief. He really didn't think he'd have been able to deal with another fight so soon; the idea of a brawl made him slightly nauseous.
Not a good sign.
***
After returning to the Curtis house, Ponyboy, much to his chagrin, had been appointed the role of nursemaid, as so ordered by Darry. The youngest Greaser found himself kneeling, disgruntled and irritated, in front of a delighted Two-Bit, who revelled in the prospect of taunting and teasing him incessantly while he treated a particularly nasty cut underneath one twinkling stormy-grey eye.
"Ain't this just a picture?" Two-Bit exclaimed gleefully, running roughened fingers through silky ginger locks as Ponyboy dabbed the incision with rubbing alcohol. Green-grey eyes narrowed marginally at both the remark and the touch, expressing visually only annoyance at both, but inwardly more than a little surprised at the contact. He decided to ignore it, attempting to convince himself that it meant nothing and re-focused his attention on the cut he was bandaging.
"Ya sure are pretty enough to be a nurse, Ponyboy. Shoe fits it seems." Teasing words in an unusually serious voice, the roughened fingers migrating towards his chin, idly stroking the jaw-line.
Wide eyes resembling a thickening fog shot up to meet eyes of a darker shade of grey, the former clearly astounded, the latter's unreadable.
Now, Ponyboy had never thought of Two-Bit as a serious person; in fact, the only times he'd ever seen his good-natured friend anything other than absolutely cheerful had to do with an encounter with Socs, but at that moment his friend was. solemn. And it unnerved him.
Ponyboy studied the other Greaser intently, realising that he'd never thought much about Two-Bit at all. Apparently not only was his friend capable of being serious, but he was, Pony was startled to discover, extremely handsome as well. 'Not hard to see why the blondes flock to him.' Pony thought idly, eyes running along the chiselled features of the tanned face. At first it was innocent admiration, studying each aspect of the handsome countenance, but then the lines of Two-Bit's face began to blur into more angular ones. Sharp jaw the same.tanned skin instead of pale.easy smile as opposed to a dangerous, predatory one.stormy-grey eyes in contrast to ice blue.
Ponyboy started as he realised not only was he openly gawking at his friend, but that he was making comparisons between he and Dally. He was shocked at himself, at the revelation that he was attracted to both of the older Greasers. 'Oh, my brothers are gonna kill me.' he thought miserably.
"Pony? Y'okay, kid?" Right, Two-Bit.
Eyes downcast, a deep blush decorating high cheekbones, Ponyboy missed Two-Bit's smug grin and cocked eyebrow.
"Yeah, I'm fine, Two-Bit, and so are you. The cut'll be fine as long as ya don't pick at it like usual." A bad attempt at humour, but usually he would laugh anyway, maybe ruffling Pony's hair a bit. But Two-Bit didn't laugh, simply smirked, and Ponyboy felt his ears heat as his blush darkened.
Ponyboy stood smoothly, shaking silky auburn locks out of his eyes as he strode towards the living room, only to find a pair of ice-blue eyes staring at him from the kitchen doorway, the taller body blocking his path. Those eyes were scathing as they glared at Two-Bit, who hadn't moved an inch from his relaxed pose at the kitchen table, and simply stared evenly back, grin frozen on his face. Pony shoved awkwardly past Dally, seeking escape from the tense company of the older Greasers, and surprisingly enough, was let past.
His respite, however, was short lived, as Two-Bit sauntered in a few moments later, just to sprawl next to him on the floor, and Dally, well, Dally had stalked in right after Two-Bit, settling himself comfortably on the couch, his eyes never leaving Ponyboy's back.
So, in truth, he supposed it was only roughly ten minutes that Dally had been watching him, or in more accurate terms, scrutinising him-studying him. However, when one is confronted with such a soul-searching look, courtesy of sharp, pale eyes, charged with disconcertingly powerful emotions, and hell-bent on stripping you of all your feeble defences in an effort to see everything you are laid bare, time doesn't quite seem to be of such importance anymore. And Dally most definitely had that look perfected.
'I wonder if it's just me, or if everyone gets that kind of treatment.' Ponyboy thought with irritation, long, slender fingers running through auburn locks in exasperation. 'I mean, I ain't never seen him do that to someone else.why me?'
It was true that, though the two had always behaved in a mostly civil manner, Ponyboy and Dally had never been close, and as such, Pony was incredibly puzzled, both by his own sudden taking to the platinum-haired Greaser, and Dally's nearly protective conduct towards him.
Sighing, Ponyboy stood from his position lounging on the floor in front of the television, Two-Bit by his side. The rusty-haired Greaser barely noticed his departure, so fixated was he upon the cartoon figure of Mickey Mouse dancing across the screen, as Pony made his way into the kitchen to help Soda and Steve with dinner. However, his actions could hardly escape Dally's watchful eye, and the elder boy caught his eyes meaningfully, inclining slightly in the direction of the door. He hopped over the arm of the sofa, and slid out the door, onto the porch. Obediently, Ponyboy followed, wondering at the tow-headed Greaser's strange behaviour.
"What's up, Dal? Somethin' wrong?" Pony asked, leaning against the porch railing after pulling both the screen and oak doors firmly shut.
Dally studied him for a moment, face unreadable but manner relaxed. He remained silent, his only actions lighting a cigarette from the slightly rumpled pack of Kools, not even bothering to offer one to his companion. Ponyboy resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"What's this about, Dally? What's got ya so worked up?" He couldn't believe his own boldness. Mere days before he had felt incredibly intimidated by the cold, hard hood that was Dally Winston, but now he felt only impatient at his companion's huge amount of self-importance. 'Must be Two-Bit's influence' he decided.
One pale-blonde eyebrow raised questioningly and cool blue eyes watched him with a vague trace of surprise, thin lips spreading into a humourless smirk.
"Soda was ready to beat the tar outta Steve today." he began.
Green-grey eyes clouded over, Pony's lips automatically forming words that he didn't want to hear, especially issuing from his own mouth.
"Yeah, Social Services called yesterday.they were talkin' 'bout taking me away again," voice turning sarcastic, "'cause of the dangerous neighbourhood we live in." weary tone again, "they heard 'bout all the fights, people getting' jumped 'n all. He managed to forget about, I think, 'til earlier. It really freaked him out too.I'm just glad they didn't hear 'bout yesterday. Dunno if they will."
Dally's sharp eyes caught the tremor that wracked the slim frame as the monotone voice trailed off, and he felt rage course anew through his veins.
"Yeah, well don't worry 'bout it, kid. They ain't gonna touch ya again. I won't let 'em."
The words, as well as the tone, were final, decisive, leaving no room for doubt in Pony's mind, and when Dally saw the kernel of hope he had placed in those eyes grow, forest green banishing the cloudy grey of fear, he couldn't help himself.
Dally crossed the distance between he and Pony purposefully, sweeping the supple body of the younger boy into his strong arms, barely catching the flicker of surprise in the dazzling orbs before he laid claim to full, petal-soft lips.
He swallowed Pony's gasp of shock, concentrating only on the opportunity that it presented. He plunged his tongue in, plundering the sweet depths savagely, arms tightening around the trim waist. He felt slender fingers twine into his hair and repressed the urge to smirk, choosing instead to attempt to coax more honeyed moans from full lips.
Ponyboy thought his knees would buckle when he felt Dally's tongue move smoothly along his own, massaging the slick muscle gently, coating it with Dally's own spicy taste. He had never felt such pleasure before; at first a pleasant tingling feeling throughout his body, it had slowly escalated to a sensual burn, and he was now beginning to feel the effects of the of Dally's passion centre in his own groin. He moaned loudly at the delightful feeling, then pulled away abruptly, immediately appalled at his own wantonness.
Dally, however, wasn't willing to relinquish his hold on the younger boy so easily. As he recaptured Pony's lips, one elegant hand trailed down the slope of the slightly arched lower back, reaching down to cup a denim- encased buttock, and he squeezed gently, relishing the quick jerk of hips in response. He couldn't believe how aroused he was becoming from a simple kiss and grope, but it was sinfully sexy seeing this young thing surrender to his caresses, plead for his touch.he could take him so easily.
"No!"
Ponyboy grabbed the porch railing tightly to keep his balance as he was shoved harshly backwards. Feeling a little disoriented, he looked to Dally for an explanation, but the tow-headed Greaser's back was facing him, the spine rigid as a pole, the lean form tense. Tense again; not a good sign, just as the cry that had left Dally's lips was ominous.
"Dal?"
Dally turned at the shaky, pleading tone and almost succumbed to temptation as he spied the mussed ginger hair and swollen lips. But no, he held firm; he would not take advantage of Pony.
"Look, I gotta go, kid. I'll swing by tomorrow."
Ponyboy watched numbly as Dally stalked off, long legs carrying him quickly away. He was torn between disappointment, hurt and relief with the last flash of platinum blonde hair as the elder Greaser turned the corner, the setting sun highlighting the pale strands beautifully, with shades of red and copper.
And so Ponyboy Curtis sat heavily down on his front steps, fighting back tears at the feeling of being the most confused he'd ever been in his entire life.
**Thanks for reading guys. Remember, review and tell me what you think! So sorry about the delay but I had total writer's block; this chapter just refused to be written!