Dear Tulsa, Love Ponyboy | JOHNNYBOY ONESHOTS | THE OUTSIDERS

1 | The Story Of Love

Genre: fluff
Words: 660
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A/N) I missed writing oneshots 😓 those who witnessed my oneshot era.. iykyk.

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Johnny Cade

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Me and Ponyboy sit against a tree stump which overlooks the town of Tulsa just perfectly. Like a framed photograph, the sight is unforgettable. I lean my head against Ponyboy's and Ponyboy traces shapes into the front of my boney hand. We sit in comfortable silence, and we have been, for awhile now. Until I finally break the silence with a question.
"Could you tell me a story?" I ask. I ask this because storytelling is one of his strong suits. Everything this boy spews is poetic in a way I admire. It's been like that since we were kids. While the gang and I was out smoking and trying to pick up girls, Ponyboy was reading or writing. Yes, he smoked, but he did it in a sophisticated way. He could manage that more than Dally or I ever could. Rarely had he have to sleep off a smoke, while with me and Dally, we were doing that half the time because we smoked too many packs. Even the way he responds is music to my ears, but I doubt it is to anyone else. "Okay," he says, pondering ideas in his mind. "How about I tell the story of when I knew love?" "How you knew love?" I ask, furrowing my brows and looking up at him. "Yeah." He nods. "Like — How I knew that my love for you . . Was love." Ponyboy explains. "Not a friendly love, a 'I'm going to marry him' love." Ponyboy added, facing me with his classic grin that heats my face up. "Okay," I say. "Tell me that story." I grin, raising my eyebrows with a smug face, curiosity filling my mind. As Ponyboy begins his story, I look down at the sparkling ring on my finger.

The air shuffles as the cold moonlight radiates icey air that sends prickles down Johnny's back as he tries to find comfort in the makeshift bed he has created in the lot. He sits up and quivers as he adds pebbles and things to the fire infront of him in an attempt to make it warmer. Suddenly, he hears a crunching behind him and there Ponyboy stands, his youthful grin painted on him.
"Parents fight again?" Ponyboy asks, though he knows the answer, as he slides down next to Johnny. "Yup." Johnny replies, looking up at Ponyboy with a guilty look. "You okay, Johnnycakes?" Ponyboy asks — he recognizes that look anywhere, the one Johnny wears. It means trouble. "I just feel like it's my fault —" Johnny cowers, his lip quivering as he leans closer to Ponyboy's warmth. "It's never your fault, Johnny. It's those stupid parents and their tendencies." Ponyboy hufts, grabbing onto Johnny's hand reassuringly. "I don't know man," Johnny mutters. "I should just kill myself or something, man. Relieve all that stress off my old man. He'd thank me — I'm a pain to —" Johnny rants, but is interrupted by an upset Pony. "Don't talk like that, Johnnycakes. You're better than that — and them — I care about you, Johnny." Ponyboy scolds, his cheeks starting to heat up. "I love you." He adds. His whole face heating over. That was the first time he had ever said that to Johnny — and he meant that platonically. Johnny is his bestfriend. But the way he feels after, the butterflies fluttering in his system, tells him that this is love — this is romantic. "I love you too." Johnny responds leaning in closer to Pony, he means the same thing Pony meant — romantic type love, even if they hadn't known it yet.

"That's when I knew, too." I reply, leaning into Ponyboy and kissing him on the lips, craving his touch. He leans into my touch, too, and rests his hands on my face. The world becomes slow, and to me, the only thing that matters is this moment, this memory.