Hmm. Question: What slash couples (from the Outsiders) do you like the most? What genres? I want to write a couple of oneshots. I don't need idea-ideas, just a general layout. Like, I dunno - Tex/Mason, super fluffy sunshine incest, or whatever. Just like that.

I look forward to reviews and ideas. :3

So what do you think Dally did?

For a moment he was too stunned to speak. Then, despite or because of the diminishing crowds of people, he gripped Johnny by the shoulder, kissing the top of his head.

He led the way to the car without speaking, kind of wishing Johnny wouldn't say anything. He didn't.

Dallas tried to lock his face into a pleasant expression or at least some kind of half-smile as they rode home, the silence continually prolonged.

They didn't talk. They didn't touch. And Dally did not return the statement.

-

The first time Bryon saw the movie theatre guy, he was heading to a showing with Ponyboy on one of the few days where Cathy wasn't free. And of course he hadn't been suspicious; he and Cathy were in love.

Okay, she hadn't technically said that. Actually, Bryon had. To her. Yesterday. He hadn't heard from her since, but he figured she just needed some time to adjust.

Pony couldn't disagree more.

"You said it too soon, you dumbass. You spooked her."

"I can't help it! I love telling people I love them. I'm an 'I love you' prostitute. I love you, Pony."

His vertically challenged friend rolled his eyes in that oh-so-put-upon way.

"Just shut your trap during the movie, alright? I've been wanting to see this one for a while."

They slowed their pace outside the blocky building, warily apprehending the lines. They did rock-paper-scissors to determine who would pay for the tickets and popcorn, and per usual Pony lost. Also per usual, Bryon felt bad and offered to pay for his own.

They were three steps from approaching the window when Bryon saw the familiar, sleek black type of hair-do Cathy usually had. But it couldn't have been Cathy, of course, because the guy she was with was most certainly not Bryon. Still, for some reason, he felt anger and jealousy flare up when the other guy kissed the not-Cathy.

Pony seemed surprised, too.

"Hey, Bry - isn't that...?"

Bryon hung his head, deciding to study the gum stuck to the ground and so not moping. Pony fell silent.

"Well?"

Bryon looked up, eyebrows bunched together, at the irate tapping of his friend's foot. Pony held up his hand to the impatient person selling tickets at the window to pull Bryon aside. He lowered his voice.

"Well - you going to talk to her or what?"

Bryon shook his head. "I just... No. And don't ask me why." Pony shut his mouth. Then, he opened it again.

"Okay - you want to go home instead?"

He nodded eagerly. Pony wasn't as selfish as he seemed; he always had other people's best interests at heart.

They left the theatre that day without being seen, and Bryon had managed to try and forget, for him and Cathy's sake as a couple. At least, until Cathy decided it was time they break up.

"It's that guy, isn't it?!" he had snapped without thinking, too mad and frustrated at that minute to care. Cathy had seemed surprised at first to see he knew, but then relaxed.

"Yes," she said, and that was the end of it. Not too soon after she said this, Bryon would go on to drag Pony out of class so he could confide in him. Not so long after that, he found he couldn't even remember why he had wanted Cathy or been sore about her in the first place.

Because right now, he was completely preoccupied with somebody else.

-

Johnny held onto Dallas's shoulders as he kissed him, tender and begging, over and over again. Their lips moved together, easy and pushing for more yet not violating any set boundaries. Johnny could feel the heat overtake him, the amazing feeling of falling in an downward spiraling ellipse, the hands that gripped his hips being the only thing tying him to Earth.

His pulse fell in tune with the chant he spoke only in his mind; I love you. I love you. I love, love, love you.

Johnny wrapped his arms around Dally's neck, bringing him closer as they fell back together on their shared mattress. Their breathing, their short gasps for air; it was all very loud in his ears, the very thunder of soothing exhilaration.

Take me, he wanted to beg, and by the weight on his leg, he could tell Dally wanted the same thing.

But it was over now. He was slowing down to a stop and hovering over Johnny, breathing heavily but not lustfully. A small curtain of white-blond fell in their vision, and ice met ash in the single fluttering of eyelids.

"How you doin'?" Dally asked, red-faced and smiling wider than Johnny had ever seen him manage. His disappointment washed away quicker than a city in a storm.

"Pretty good," he replied in whisper, smiling back. Johnny took Dally's face in his hands and kissed him, slowly, deeply.

Dally flipped over onto his back beside Johnny, who took his hand in his tiny-in-comparison grasp. Their fingers laced.

"Wow," the older boy breathed.

A few seconds later, he opened his eyes again.

"Hey, Johnny?" Dally asked, not bothering to move. The eye he could see bored into the younger teen.

He couldn't help it; Johnny laughed. "Y-yeah?"

With a grunt, Dallas turned to lean over on his side, looking at Johnny fully. He was all business. "That my shirt?"

Johnny closed his eyes and flipped over onto his side. "G'night, Dal."

Which meant yes.

-

Pony was as confused as hell right now, and the only way to make things make sense would be to get mad. Because when you arrived in front of Bryon with a temper, all was forgiven.

Except right now he really didn't want to think about Bryon, much less talk to him.

And then Johnny Cade had to walk in, all smiles and sugar and bunnies with the village criminal in tow, radiating the same.

"Hi, Pony," Johnny greeted, beaming. Dallas walked past without so much as a scoff his way, going to sit down until they were dismissed for homeroom. He didn't have to wave to Johnny because he knew he'd come.

"Fuck off," Mike swore.

Johnny's face fell. "Pony, what's-?"

"And stop calling me that!" he added, feeling the need to be angry with no reason. "I told you, I fucking hate it when all you idiots call me that."

Dallas stopped mid-step, paused, then walked backwards. Despite himself, Pony found himself shrinking beneath the venomous glare that followed.

"Nice shirt, kid," he said unexpectedly. MP looked at him blankly.

Dallas cocked his head, grinning. "Yeah. You're kind of swimming in it, though - what, you steal one of Bryon's shirts or something?"

His face flushed, eyes narrowing. "Hell no, it isn't. I borrowed it from a cousin, is all-"

"Cut the crap," Dallas sneered. "I heard what you've been saying about us, and if anybody's queer, kid, it's-"

"What's going on here?"

Johnny looked relieved, releasing the sleeve of Dally's shirt he'd been tugging on for the past several seconds. Pony's face flushed deeper as the subject of his nightmares came up behind him.

To his rescue, to save his ungrateful ass. Again - and here he was, calling him a nightmare.

"It is true, Dallas," Byon said coolly, planting a hand firmly on his friend's shoulder. It was almost like he was single handedly supporting him; Pony was almost one-hundred percent sure he indeed was. "Pony comes from a real big Southern family, and they leave a lot of stuff lying around. I wouldn't be surprised if this was all he could find to wear, thanks to those filthy free-loading..."

Dallas's eyes held Pony's firm, hard and icy. Johnny's darted nervously between the two; he bit his lip.

"I'm so damn tired of this," Pony spat, abruptly. "I'm tired of all your bullshit, of how damn righteous and perfect you are!" He pointed accusingly at Johnny, who shrank back. Dallas narrowed his eyes.

"Hey, brat. You keep off him or I'll snap your -"

"You won't do no damn such thing," Bryon interrupted, flexing his hands.

Unexpectedly, Pony turned on him, too. "Would you step off? I'm sick and tired of you babying me, treating me like I'm made of fucking glass!"

He shoved the so proclaimed "lovebirds" out of the way, storming out and narrowly missing a crack to the skull by Dallas that Johnny had feebly managed to hold off. Concerned, Bryon ran after him.

"Don't these teachers to anything right?" Dallas grumbled after things had quieted down. His arm was still in Johnny's grasp, and people were watching. He couldn't have cared less at this point.

"I don't think any amount of education could've stopped that from happening," Johnny said dryly.

Dallas shook his head. "No - I mean, they just skipped school, y'know? I'd doubt they could make it past the main office, if I didn't know how shitty this school was."

"Oh." Johnny let go of his arm, standing there and watching Dallas crack his neck and curse. You could tell he'd been hoping for a fight; not from somebody scrawny like Ponyboy, but maybe Bryon in the least would've had a good brawl in him. He was big enough.

Dallas sighed. "Well, since you aren't gonna' let me skip, even to check on our good friends' well being-"

"Hell no!"

He laughed before continuing. "Like I said, since you won't let me, let's sit our asses down before we're announced an official freak sideshow."

He stopped in mid-stride though, suddenly smirking as if at some joke.

Johnny arched his eyebrows at him. "Just what's so funny?"

Dallas guffawed now, in full-on hysterics. "I guess you ain't the only one with a shirt fetish, 'aight?"

Johnny punched him in the back.

-

Pony began to slow his frantic sprint to a stop, the slow leakage of anger that was left trickling through his mind and poisoning his thoughts. He glared.

He wasn't looking at Bryon directly so as to tell if all this was technically happening, but if Bryon knew him as well as he thought he did, then he was correct.

"I just hate him," Pony snapped, still refusing to meet his eyes or turn around.

It was pouring now, one of the reasons Bryon secretly loved it here in Autumn; how beautiful it was when it rained.

"Why?" he whispered.

Pony's shoulders slumped.

"He really gets to me sometimes - you know?"

Bryon didn't make a move. "Is it because of what he said to you? About being one in a million?"

He could've laughed at the thought, that Pony was still thinking about something said that many ages ago. In fact, he did; loud and stale so it startled Pony into an upright position. He whipped his head around to look at him, most likely appalled at Bryon's mad-man behavior.

"You spoiled rotten kid," he rasped, not at all meanly. "Baby, I've been telling you the same thing for years."

Pony glared at him. Instead of the "can't you be serious?" Bryon had expected, he got something altogether different.

"Don't you think I know that?"

His voice was soft, and yet Bryon had somehow managed to hear him through the pounding rain. He stood, stock still, stunned at hearing his friend admit his own flaws.

Pony ran a hand through his hair, pushing the sopping wet brought on by the downpour back from his forehead. Bryon couldn't help but admire that; how vulnerable he looked.

Vulnerable. Not a word he could personally associate with Pony, but none the less the perfect way to describe the way he was to nearly everyone else. Vulnerable.

Pony stiffened as Bryon took him in his arms, feeling the hum of a faint moan's vibrations as he buried his head in the crook of Pony's neck. Bryon had never noticed how small Pony's shoulders were; he'd barely noticed he had ever been a head shorter than Bryon. But he was.

He could feel Ponyboy blushing against his cheek without seeing it, even heard it in his voice as he said, "Did Cathy ever make you do... that?"

Bryon blushed, too, almost thinking that what he'd heard in his longtime friend's voice had been fear. But when he made an attempt to move off, Pony held him there.

"Bryon..."

And suddenly he wasn't the high-strung brat, the emotionally stunted teenager. He was a kid who loved to read and was sensitive and who everybody thought they had a right to pick on just because his crack-head parents had named him something so ridiculous. He was a kid who liked Bryon, even if he was loud and obnoxious and taught him just how nice it was sometimes to just sit down with a book and read; he was the kid who first befriended Bryon when no one else would, upon whom Bryon had taken to protect fiercely, no matter the costs.

He was the kid who was shy and terrified of what people thought of him, and worried himself sick over the opinions of people frankly Bryon didn't think deserved his approval. But Bryon had protected him nonetheless, protected him from further crippling words as best he could, but the damage was done.

Perhaps most importantly, though, he stayed by his side, maybe because in a past life he'd been cruel or misunderstanding or judged him too soon, but Bryon loved him all the same and wanted no harm to come to him.

Yes, that's right, he realized. He loved Ponyboy. He always had, and he could vaguely remember Cathy saying in what he'd thought to be merely playful spite at the time, "If it weren't for the fact he has a penis, I'd be in real trouble, wouldn't I?"

And it suddenly made sense, that she'd be so uncomfortable with his confession. Because it wasn't real; she'd always be second-to-best, and she knew it.

Pony gripped Bryon, who was still recovering from the bricks of realization, grasped him by the cheeks and kissed him. He kissed him desperately and mournfully because this was it; they were making the right choice, embracing it, and hell itself could rise up to stop them if it wished.

"It's raining," Bryon mumbled into his mouth when Pony began to fist his shirt.

"It's always raining, Bry." He smirked crookedly up at him. "Which means no one will come outside until it's over."

They fell into rhythm, three blocks from the school, hiding behind the shrubbery of a nearby stranger's lawn. Bryon may have been dominating; it was Pony who lead the strokes.

To those of you who enjoyed their company, don't worry! The same goes to haters: Bryon and Pony will show up once more towards the end (like, possibly the last or second-to-last chapter) for comic relief, then that's it. From here on in, it's aaaaall Dally/Johnny slash. B)

Oh, and I'm renaming a few chapters, since I hate what they're called so far. :D

Kudos to the writers of How I Met Your Mother and the recent movie remake of Bewitched, for inspiring two different lines here.