Fresh Start -Sodapop x Reader

Ice Cream

You
"(F/n)! (F/n)! Wake up!" I heard as I groggily opened my eyes.
A heavy weight was straddling me, meaning I couldn't move from my belly-down position. I groaned and turned my head, seeing a head of red hair out of the corner of my eye. Fists pounded themselves into my back, making my voice tremble.
"I'm awake. What the hell do you want?"
"I want to go get ice cream."
"It's still dark out. What, it must be two AM. And-- ow, get off of my arm." I looked at my cast, noticing David's knee resting on it.
"Please?"
I groaned loudly. "Fine! Come on."
He got off of me, so I tossed on a pair of socks and my black slippers. In just a flannel pair of pajama pants and a tight, grey t-shirt, I marched downstairs, past a snoring Roger, and out of the house, being sure to grab my keys. David trotted behind, a giddy look on his face whenever I glanced back. Why the hell did he want ice cream at 2 in the morning?
"Carry me," I said tiredly.
He bent a bit, so I jumped onto his back and laid my back against his varsity jacket. "Comfy?"
"Mhm, thanks."
When we got to the Dingo-- the only place that fell into both the categories of "Open at the ungodly hours of the night" and "more than likely sells ice cream"-- David set me down and let me grab us a seat while he went to get us ice cream. The place was packed, and I was feeling kind of pissy, so I just hid in the back of the booth and watched as David animatedly interacted with some of the surprisingly friendly greasers. I figured they wouldn't take kindly to having a Soc in their area, but none of them seemed to mind.
"Didn't anyone teach you that it's dangerous to be out this late?" I looked up, seeing Sodapop slide into the booth with a grin. "Also, I like the pajama pants. Very mature."
"Shut up, the Flintstones are cool as hell." I huffed, looking down at my pants.
"Somebody's cranky. What brings you here, anyway?"
"Some idiot wanted ice cream." I gestured towards David lazily. "What about you?"
"I was hangin' with some friends after a movie. They've all gone off and found girls, so I'm just chilling here."
"Well, you've found me." I smiled sleepily.
"I guess. That reminds me: we were going to talk later today. How 'bout we talk now?"
"Good with me. What's up?" I said expectantly.
"Well, I was thinking that with all this fake dating, we could try out some real dating? I mean, we've already kissed, we hold hands when we're out, and we wouldn't be lying to your friends."
"And you have a crush on me?" I added, cocking an eyebrow.
He nodded with a chuckle. "I assume you like me too?"
"Of course I do, Soda. You're a cutie."
"And I think the same of you." He gripped my hand, which was resting on the table, and traced his thumb over my knuckles. "How long is he going to take to get ice cream?"
"Knowing David, he'll probably be at the counter for another hour." I stood up and called out, "David! You're here now, I'm gonna head out with Soda!"
He quickly dashed over and tossed his varsity jacket over my shoulders. "Be careful. See you at your place." He went back to the counter, and I let out a small, amused huff.
"Shall we go?" Soda linked his arm with my broken one and smiled.
"Of course. Where to, Soda?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Just wallkin', I guess?"
"Why not?"