Unrequited (The Outsiders ship fic)

Ch 10. Big dummy

Johnny POV

"Johnnycake, come here..." Dallas slurred.
His face is barely lit by neon lights. I can't tell if he looks scary or hot like that.
I leaned in, "What?"
"I've gotta tell you somethin', okay, but after I tell you something then you gotta tell me somethin' too, deal?"
I can hardly understand what he's saying. Partially because he's slurring and mumbling, and partially because I'm drunk and way too many words just came out of his mouth. Probably mostly the second one.
"Sure."
"Okay... Two told me that I yesterday I hit on him when I was drunk. After you 'n' Pony left, I think I said I want to kiss him or something... And it's stupid and I was drunk and I'm sorry."
I shrugged, "That's okay Dal. No harm done."
If I was sober I'd be hurt. Why do people ever tell other people stuff when they're drunk? Don't they know the reaction isn't valid?
"Okay, now you tell me something, baby."
"What do ya wanna know?"
He looked up at Ponyboy. Ponyboy, leaning on a wall with a soda in his hand and hand in his pocket. He's never looked so awkward in his entire life.
"You know where he got them hickeys, don't cha?"
Do I?
"A girl."
"If it was a girl he'd never shut up about her, Johnny."
"He never shuts up about Cherry. Maybe it's her."
He laughed, "Jealous much?"
Do I sound jealous when I talk about Cherry? God I hope not. I wish I wasn't drunk right now, I'd be able to tell.
"I'm dating you. Idiot."
"Then why don't you tell your loving boyfriend where your best friend's bruises came from?" he said in an obviously fake cheery tone.
I stayed quiet. Take another sip of the gross beer. No, take a few. Gulp it down, kid. Fuck it, chug.
"You know, don't you?"
I nodded.
"Did you give Ponyboy those hickeys, baby?"
Tears sting in my eyes. Squeeze them shut, nice and tight, and no one can tell. Great, I'm gonna be sitting here gross drunk sobbing while my best friend gets the shit beat out of him. It's all my fault and I know it. I'm so stupid.
Gulp. I nodded. Wipe away the tears. Stop crying, idiot.
He sighed and rested his head on my shoulder, "That's okay, Johnnycakes. You deserve a little break after yesterday. I know you love me, and I love you. It's okay. I forgive you."
But I'm still crying. Some boy is sitting here telling me who to love. Maybe I didn't want to be forgiven.
"Hey, Johnny, you alright man?"
I open my eyes. Ponyboy is sitting beside me. Neon light shining in the dark on his face. Reality has been altered.
"Pon-..." I sob.
He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. His image is blurry with tears.
"It's okay, Johnny. I think you were crying and then you passed out. You've only been out for maybe 10 minutes. Dal went to talk to Two-bit. Are you alright?" He asked again.
I pull him into a hug, soaking the shoulder of his hoodie in tears and snot.
He chuckled lightly and then whispered, "Did he hurt you, Johnny? Are you okay? What happened?"
I didn't say or do anything, just cried on his shoulder. How the hell am I supposed to explain this to him? Dallas said it was fine. He didn't do anything mean. I'm just crying because I'm dumb. But Ponyboy's got great grades, so he wouldn't understand that.
He stood me up and helped me outside, but I barely noticed.
"Where are we going? What's happening? What are we doing, Pony?"
"Shut up for a second. We're leaving. You don't have to be around him anymore."
What is he talking about?

Ponyboy POV

I don't know how Dallas manages to make Johnny cry. He never cries during a rumble, no matter how bad he gets hit. I know he cries at school sometimes, but that's anxiety. This is pain. I already told him he shouldn't be with Dally, but he still is, so I don't think telling him again will change anything. He's drunk anyways. I really don't see Johnny drunk a lot. He hates drinking, because of his parents and everything. But he's 16 and a greaser so I guess he can't escape it every now and then.
I practically had to carry Johnny inside my house. It's only 9 on a Friday so Sodapop is out somewhere. Darry eyed me and Johnny as we walked in.
"Oh, god," he groaned, "What happened?"
"Dunno, he won't tell me. He's been drinking, Dal made him cry. Can he sleep here again?"
Darry nodded.
I laid him down in my room for a while, while I read a book at the foot of my bed. It's not late, and it's not his bed, and he's drunk. He'll wake up again sooner or later.
"Aghh... Pony? Where's Dal?" he rolled over and sat up.
I looked at the clock. 12:45 am.
"Don't worry about it. I took you home-my home, not your's. You okay?"
He grumbled and rubbed his head. Can you get a hangover after 3 hours of sleep?
"You shouldn't be asking about Dally as soon as you wake up anyway. He's no good for you, Johnny. I think he hurt you, but I doubt you remember."
I looked down at my book, but I still feel his stare burning in the back of my head.
"It does hurt," he mumbled.
That startled me. He's either hungover or drunk right now, so if he can remember anything from 3+ hours ago I'll be damn surprised.
"What does? You know what happened?"
He nodded. But then he just jumped back to the conversation from earlier. He's probably still drunk, unable to stay on one topic.
"If you think he's so bad for me what'd you suppose I should do?"
I shrugged, "I'm not the one to ask for relationship advice."
"I'm not the one who asked in the first place, Pony, you just seem to feel like sharin'," he giggled, "Besides, you're the guy with all them hickeys on your neck, you must know something about relationships."
"Yeah, real clever," I smiled.
He sat close to me and leaned himself against my arm. An entire bed to lie on and he's sitting propped against me. I went to say something but when I looked I found him staring up at me with a goofy half-drunk grin on his face.
I couldn't help but laugh, "You look like an idiot, Johnny Cade."
"Yeah, I bet I do," he chuckled, "But you look real cute, Ponyboy."
Cute? Who the hell does he think he's talking to? God, I'm 14 years old, not 8! Cute??? I'm not cute, what's he talking about? Stupid Johnny, never knows what he's talking about. That's not true, but I'll try and tell myself that anyway.
"You're drunk. Say, you ever gonna tell me what it is Dally did that's hurting you so bad?" I asked, trying to change the subject.
"Yeah... He didn't break up with me."

Johnny POV

I love him. Wait, no I don't. He's done so much for me, I should love him. I love someone else. Just be agreeable. I don't want to just be agreeable, I want to be happy.
"He didn't break up with me," I muttered.
That's the truth. I didn't want Dallas to forgive me for giving Ponyboy those hickeys. I wanted him to flip out and get angry and yell that he never wants to see me again, then I could cry and go to Pony's and he would comfort me. Yeah, a lot of that did happen. I'm still here, I still cried. The only difference is nothing bad happened and now I just look stupid.
"Wait... Don't you love him?"
I shook my head.
"He's like a brother to me, man. I look up to him. I want to be like him. I want him to teach me stuff and talk to me about all his wisdom. But I don't want to kiss him... He's just scary, Pony, and you know how Dallas always gets what he wants. I can't fight him. He wants to date me so I'm dating him too."
Of course Ponyboy is the only person to know that. I've been too scared to say anything about my relationship with Dal for the past week out of fear I'd say something dumb like that. But Pony's good at keeping secrets, and he's my best friend, so I usually tell him everything.
He paused for a second, then muttered, "You only give me those hickeys 'cause you wanted to make Dal mad, huh?"
I chuckled, "That depends. You only let me so when people ask about 'em you can say you got yourself a lady?"
He smiled at me and shrugged, "I don't know."
I smiled too, "Me neither."
We were silent for a good few minutes after that. I leaned my head on his bare shoulder again. I realized he took his hoodie off while I was sleeping, I can see his hickeys.
I remembered what Dallas said about the ones he left on me. It means you're mine.
I leaned up closer to him while his eyes fixated on the book. I kissed him softly, our lips moving in correlation together.
Ponyboy tastes like lemonade, and very faintly of Mountain Dew.
I probably taste like beer. Sorry, Pony.