Chapter Text
Johnny’s legs were starting to burn as he ran down the road, illuminated only by the street lights. It felt like someone had sparked flames inside of his muscles, but he still stumbled his way toward the vacant lot. It was the first place his mind had come up with. All he needed was space. Just time to calm down, that was all he needed.
The cold air stung the fresh wound on his face worse than any salt water could and it felt like someone had tied bags of sand to his ankles. He bounded around the corner into the lot and promptly collapsed into a tired, panting mess on the ground.
He laid out like a starfish in the middle of the vacant space, staring up at the sky as his chest heaved. Images and sounds flashed through his mind fast enough to drive him insane. He gripped his chest tightly, feeling his heartbeat still rampant underneath the fabric of his shirt.
The noise of his mother’s screaming still rang fresh and buzzing in his ears.
“Why do you always have to go and make things worse for me, Johnny?”
“You get out of this damn house right this minute, Johnny!”
“…Johnny?”
“Johnny?”
“Johnny!”
He sat up with a start, breath hitching as he looked out in front of him. He was worried his old man had tracked him down, but there, lit cigarette in hand stood Ponyboy Curtis. He stared back at Johnny with a wide-eyed, almost bewildered look on his face. Johnny quickly straightened up.
“Uhm, hi, Ponyboy.” He mumbled, feigning a casual expression. Pony raised an eyebrow, putting out the deep orange embers of his cigarette.
Pony took a once-over of the lot. “Hey. Whatcha doing out here so late?” He asked. The way his eyes raked over Johnny was enough to form a pit in his stomach. Johnny pulled at the collar of his jacket, a nervous habit.
“Ma gave me the boot. Don’t wanna talk ‘bout it.” He decided, shrugging as his gaze wandered down to his lap. Pony nodded slowly, chewing on his lip. “Alright then. So, you're gonna just sit here and bleed all over yourself then?”
Johnny mumbled a quick “what?” as his hand flew up to his face. He looked back at his palm, a warm red now staining it. Pony gave him a sigh before waltzing over and shrugging off his jacket, handing it over to Johnny. He stared down at the jacket for a moment before Pony chimed in, “For your face.”
“I don’t think you want your jacket getting blood on it,” Johnny said. Ponyboy merely shrugged his shoulders. “Prolly has blood on it anyhow. I don’t mind.” He hesitantly raised Pony’s jacket to soak the blood splattered on his face.
Pony extended his hand to help Johnny to his feet. “Come on man, we’re going home.” He must’ve noticed the immediate terror that began to spread across Johnny’s face, as he corrected himself. “I meant my home.”
Johnny breathed a sigh of relief. The two walked back onto the sidewalk, hands shoved in their pockets. Every breath came as a wispy puff of fog that quickly dissipated into the chilled air. But even with the gentle serenity of the quiet neighborhood, Pony couldn’t help but notice the vacant stare in Johnny’s eyes as they found purchase on the grey concrete.
“Uhm,” Ponyboy started. Yeah, that was eloquent as hell, good job Pony. “You seem kinda out of it.” Johnny stuttered in his movements, leaning into the feel of Pony’s jacket against his face. “It’s nothing.” He muttered.
Pony didn’t believe one bit of that. Maybe it was the dejected look in Johnny’s eyes, maybe it was the way he was fidgeting with the denim of his jacket, or maybe it was the blood soaking into said jacket from the gash on his face.
“Did your old man do that?” He gestured vaguely towards Johnny.
Johnny didn’t answer. He only shrugged, not looking to meet the other’s eyes.
Getting the feeling that he wasn’t going to get much out of this, Pony decided to shut his trap for the rest of the walk.
Upon arriving, Johnny stood behind Pony as he opened the front door to the house. They were greeted by the sight of Sodapop lounging about on the sofa and watching the TV. He turned his head around, smiling brightly. “Hey, look what the cat dragged in!” He chuckled. His smile faltered as Johnny stepped inside and into the light of the living room. “You alright, Johnny?”
“He don’t wanna talk about it, Soda.” Pony chimed in. “Hey, is Darry home?” He asked, looking around the house.
Soda nodded. “Yeah, he’s here. Hey Darry!” He hollered, which was followed by a muffled “What?” from the bedroom. “Pony’s home and he brought Johnny!”
The door to the bedroom swung open. There stood Darry, still in his work uniform despite the time. He gave Johnny a once-over, grimacing at his appearance. Pony walked towards the kitchen, motioning for Darry to follow. He gave him a weird look but followed him into the room anyway.
Soda shifted over on the couch and patted the spot beside him. Johnny came and took a seat. “Are you bleeding, Johnnycake?” He asked, leaning forward to get a better look. Johnny shook his head. “Don’t think so, not anymore.”
“Not anymore? And, hey, isn’t that Pony’s jacket?” Johnny brought the piece of clothing away from his face, holding it in his lap. “Mhm, he found me out in the lot and handed it over.” He explained. Soda winced at the sight of the gash, a stroke of angry red going from Johnny’s jaw up to his mid-cheek. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, but it didn’t look good.
Soda got up and headed for the bathroom. “Why were you in the lot anyhow?” He hollered. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” Johnny half-shouted.
Silence fell (except for the faint hum of whatever Soda was watching), which meant that Johnny could hear a bit of the hushed conversation from inside the kitchen. The first thing to come through was Pony’s voice.
“…Nowhere else to go. I sure as hell ain’t letting him go back there, and I was hoping you wouldn’t either. He’s family, Darry.”
“What if his Ma comes looking around? I know how that woman is, she’d call the fuzz if she knew we had her boy here.”
“His Ma don’t give a rat’s ass about him, I thought that’d be obvious! Besides, my bed’s big enough.”
“You can barely sleep in that bed without rolling off in the night.”
“Still!”
Johnny stopped eavesdropping once Soda came back with a wet washcloth, gently pressing it against the gash. He merely nodded in thanks and reached up to hold the cloth to his face.
Soda turned up the TV volume, and Johnny had the aching suspicion that it was to drown out the conversation in the next room. The two sat without saying anything until Ponyboy came back into the room. “Come on, Johnny.” He said, motioning to the bathroom. Johnny nodded at Soda and got up, trailing behind Pony.
Johnny sat down on the toilet lid as Pony fetched a shabby little first aid kit from the cabinet. He got a bandage and stood in front of Johnny. “Well don’t just stare at me, let me see.” He motioned for Johnny to drop the cloth. He got to work dealing with the gash, hand cupping his jaw to tilt his head to the side.
“You ain’t going home, Johnny.” Said Pony after a few beats of silence.
“Then where am I going?”
“Nowhere, you’re staying here.”
Johnny’s eyes widened. “Wait, huh?” He flinched, wincing as he dabbed some sort of antibacterial liquid on the cut.
“Hold still. And I said you’re staying here.” Pony turned Johnny’s head back towards him. “Darry already agreed, and he’s catching Soda up right now.”
Johnny felt like ‘agreed’ was a pretty strong word for what he had overheard, but he wasn’t about to say that out loud.
“I don’t wanna be a bother and take up space. I gotta sleep somewhere.” He mumbled. “I have a bed we can share. You won’t take up any extra space.” Pony explained, applying the bandage. An odd bout of heat started to crawl up Johnny’s neck. Instead of saying anything, he nodded meekly.
Pony patted his shoulder. “You’re alright now, Johnny.” He said. “It’s late, we should get to sleep.” He helped Johnny up and the two went to the bedroom. Pony strolled over to the closet, rifling through the clothes inside. While he did whatever it was he was doing, Johnny hesitantly sat down on Pony’s bed, which creaked underneath him.
He was caught off-guard by a pile of clothes being flung directly at him.
“Oops, sorry, Johnny!” Pony said, giving a sheepish grin as he looked back at Johnny. “I couldn’t find much, but that’s a shirt and some sleep pants. You can get dressed in the bathroom.” Johnny gave a quick nod and gathered up the clothes.
Johnny folded up his jacket, jeans, and the blood-soaked shirt he’d been wearing into a pile, leaving the items in a laundry basket on his way back to the room. In the time that he’d been in the bathroom, Pony had also changed into his pajamas and turned the lights off. He was in a half-lying position on the bed, fidgeting with one of his books. When he noticed Johnny standing in the doorway, he set it aside. “Hey.” He said. Johnny awkwardly walked a bit forward and closed the door behind him. “Hey.” He echoed.
“Are you just gonna stand there?” Mused Pony. Johnny couldn’t help but snicker. He walked over to the other side of the bed, hesitantly settling down next to him. He now understood Darry’s comment about the bed barely being large enough for Pony. It felt like no matter how he laid down, he was always right against him. A weird tingle started to go up Johnny’s arm where it brushed against Pony’s.
Johnny decided the best course of action would be to lay on his back and stare vacantly at the ceiling until he fell asleep, obviously.
His eyes were firmly planted on it like it was the most interesting thing he’d seen in his life.
As much as he tried to trick his mind into believing his facade, he couldn’t convince Ponyboy. Johnny could feel his eyes on him every once in a while, although he tried not to look back at him. For some reason, he was afraid that his gaze would betray him. A fear crept into his chest that somehow, Pony could already tell something was wrong with him.
“…Johnny?”
He kept his eyes glued to the ceiling “…Hm?”
“You can come here if you want.”
Johnny wasn’t quite sure what he meant by “come here”. Considering the fact that he could feel Pony’s breathing on him, he assumed he was as “here” as he could get at this point.
He turned his head to look at Pony, who had turned on his side to face Johnny. Before he could respond, Pony reached forward to pull him in by the shoulder. His muscles tensed at the contact, but he hesitantly allowed himself to lay down on Pony’s chest.
Johnny suddenly became accurately aware of every little movement. The way Pony’s chest rose and fell with every breath, the way his own hands twitched as he tensely wrapped his arms around the other’s torso, the way their legs ended up intertwined, the way Pony’s hand lifted to play with Johnny’s hair…
“You’re alright, Johnny,” Pony murmured, voice heavy with sleep.
And Johnny couldn’t help but believe him.
Even after roughly an hour had passed, Ponyboy couldn’t sleep.
Johnny hadn’t moved from his place on Pony’s chest since he had fallen asleep. The first thing he noticed was how warm Johnny was, contrasting with the chill of the bedroom. He shifted a bit in his sleep, catching his breath every few minutes almost like a sob while his hands twitched against Pony’s waist, but he stayed clinging to him like a teddy bear.
It was a bit of a shock to see him so calm. With everything going on inside Johnny’s home, mixed with him getting jumped not too long ago, the poor kid was a constant jumpy mess. He had a perpetually nervous expression and was always fidgeting with his clothes, pens, whatever he could get his hands on. So when Pony leaned forward slightly and saw how tranquil he seemed, he spared a gentle smile.
Something about his tousled black curls swept in front of his eyes, the faint freckles dotted across his tan skin, and the soft sound of his breathing made him seem quite pretty.
…Wait, what?
No, “pretty” was definitely not the right word. “Pretty” was how Soda described Sandy. “Pretty” was what Dally yelled at girls on the street. “Pretty” was not a word for Johnny Cade.
Pony tried his best to ignore the odd tingling feeling in his stomach. That quickly turned into a much different, more fear-fueled tingling as he heard the creak of the door hinges opening.
He quickly whipped his head around and was met with the sight of Soda standing in the doorway. Soda’s gaze quickly landed on Johnny, eyes widening slightly as he leaned against the doorframe. “Wanted to check and make sure Johnny’s doin’ ok,” Soda explained in a hushed voice to not disturb the boy in question. Johnny stirred a bit but stayed asleep.
Pony dropped his hand from Johnny’s hair. “He’s alright. Bit shaken, but he’s alright.” He explained. Soda nodded along. “He sure seems alright.” He grinned.
“What does that mean?” Asked Pony, running a hand across Johnny’s shoulder to soothe him. He was mumbling in his sleep, almost like he could tell that they were talking about him. “Nothin’.” Soda decided, “Just that it seems like he’s calmed down, that’s all.”
Soda came over to sit on his bed across from Pony and Johnny. “Poor kid.” Soda mumbled, “Getting the boot from his mama like that. What kinda person would just kick her boy out into the cold like that?” He shook his head lightly.
Pony smoothed Johnny’s bangs away from his eyes. “Dunno. An evil one, I guess.” He looked back up at Soda, head leaning back against the pillow. “You comin’ to sleep soon? It’s late.” Soda shook his head lightly.
“Not tonight, Pony. I’m gonna nod off on the couch.” Soda decided. “Why?” Pony tilted his head slightly. “He’s been through a lot tonight, we thought it’d be better to give him space for the first night or so. Since you two are so…” He gestured at them “…close, it’d probably be better for him to just be with ‘ya tonight, make him feel safe.” Pony nodded and Soda stood up, ruffling Pony’s hair. “Night, Pony.”
“Night, Soda.” Pony mumbled. Soda left, closing the door gently behind him.
Pony finally started to drift off, listening to the soft noise of Johnny’s breathing as he ran his fingers through his hair. He’d always had trouble sleeping alone, so it provided comfort to have someone else beside him, especially with the added weight of Johnny on top of him.
“Goodnight, Johnny.” He whispered, even though he knew he couldn’t hear him.
The last noise he heard was Johnny mumbling in his sleep.
And what sounded weirdly like a camera…