You stare at the sunset. Dally has his arm loosely over your shoulders, and you're curled up against him. You're wrapped up in his jacket.
He likes to pretend that he's cold and heartless, but he has a soft spot for you, Johnny and Pony. Not that he'd admit it, but he showed it quite visibly--to you, at least.
"I love you, Dally." You whisper.
"I know." He says simply.
You smile into his shoulder. "I know you do." You look back to the horizon. "Isn't it beautiful, Dal?"
He hummed agreement, turning to put his forehead against the side of your head.
"You aren't even looking."
"I don't like sunsets." He moves to kiss your neck.
"Everyone likes sunsets." You say, not paying him any mind.
"I like the sunrise. Kiss me."
"You could be a poet, you know." You smile, watching the sinking sun.
"Nah, I don't do feelings. Kiss me, Y/N."
"You do, you just don't say them."
"Kiss me."
You turn your head and kiss him.
"Let's just say here."
"I gotta get home."
"I don't wanna go home."
"I got homework."
"I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that."
You laugh. "Shut up, Dal. Some of us wanna get out of this shit-hole."
"You know you love it."
"I love you and the gang."
"Stay and watch the sunrise." He mumbles, kissing your neck again.
"Dally."
"Please? For me?"
"I really gotta get to school tomorrow."
"Stay with me."
"I dunno."
"Go to sleep. I'll wake you up for the sunrise."
"I don't wanna sleep. I wanna do homework."
"Stay with me." He kisses your jaw. "Please?"
"Fine." You sigh.
He smiles triumphantly. "You can sleep if you want."
"I'd rather spend time with you."
He kisses you.
"Dally, can you please not mess with your knife while you're kissing me?" You ask.
"Sorry." He closes his pocketknife and slips it into his pocket.
"Thank you." You kiss him again.
He kisses you back so hard you have to lean backwards, until you're almost lying down. He takes care of that for you, gently pushing you the rest of the way.
"I love you." You say.
"I know."
You, of course, are an expert at manipulating Dallas Winston.
Last year, you'd gotten him to read through half of Les Misérables (and then he'd said that if you wanted him to have any affiliation with it you'd have to watch the musical). You'd even given him the abridged version.
Today you're gonna make him tell you he loves you.
A bit more complicated, but not impossible.
"Dallas?" You whisper, kissing his neck.
"Hm?" He mumbles.
He doesn't like to talk in general, much less when you're engaging in activities, but he never says anything because he doesn't want you to get mad and stop reciprocating.
"Tell me you love me." You pull back and look at him, your hand twisted in his hair.
He aims to kiss you, but you turn your head.
The topic of love makes him uncomfortable, especially saying something he loves.
"I love you." He rasps out.
Now that he's said it once, he keeps going.
"I love you." He says more clearly.
"I love you too." You say.
He kisses you again and says with a little laugh. "Man, I love you."
You look at him.
He smiles and rolls off of you. "I love you." He repeats in a whisper.
You look over at him.
"What's wrong with me?" He asks, sitting up and looking at you weird. "Shit--" He begins, starting to stand.
"It's okay. It's okay. Don't freak out." You grab his hand and pull him back down.
Incidentally, that's what he'd told you when you'd tried LSD. Dally had promised he wouldn't let anything bad happen, and so you'd done it. Your friend had asked if it was really a bright idea to leave your life in Dally's hands. "Of course it is." You'd answered.
He's freaking out more now, just about having said he loves you than you had been on hardcore psychoactive drugs.
"No no no." He says, pulling his hand away.
"Dallas."
He held out his hand, a silent way of telling you to can it.
You stop talking, but he keeps his hand up for a while.
"Okay. I'm cool." He drops his hand.
You kiss him, because that's something he's comfortable with.
"Why are you stressed out?" You ask after a bit.
"I don't love anything. Kiss me."
"You love me."
"I know, and it's terrifying. Kiss me."
"You can pretend to be cold and cruel and heartless, but we all know you're a big teddybear."
He says nothing, only turns around on the roof of the boxcar to face the other direction. "Go to sleep."
You lay down with your head on his lap. "'Night, Dally."
You don't say that you love him, because you don't do drugs anymore, and you don't want him to do the same with this.
"'Night." He says gruffly.
"You can go to bed too, Dal."
"Nah."
You lay there with your eyes closed.
"I love you." He whispers after a while, probably thinking you're asleep. "Man, I really do."
You finally fall asleep, and only wake up when it starts getting light.
You sit up. "Morning." You mumble sleepily.
"I'm sorry I never said how much I love you. I'm real lucky to have you. I'm sorry, I love you." He says without preamble.
"I love you too." You say simply.
You're tired and you have next to no idea what he'd said, but that had been his point.
He turns to look at the rising sun while you try to work through what he just said in your sleep-fogged brain.
"I love you too." You repeat, kissing his cheek and leaning your head on his shoulder.
He puts his arm around you, and you watch the sunrise.
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