Starboy - DarLas -The Outsiders

Chapter 8

I lay on my back, subconsciously looking up at the sky. I watched through the narrow opening of the buildings the clouds that slowly drifted by. I exhaled painfully and examined my current physical state. Apparently Paul wasn't in too great of a mood. My whole body ached and throbbed from being slugged and kicked, and I'm confident I had a couple bruised ribs. I'm lucky, they should have been cracked. My lip was busted, and I felt warm blood slowly making it's way down my face and onto the concrete. The bitter taste filled my mouth, and I spat the blood out. I was already choking enough on my own defeat.

I looked down at my wrist, which throbbed violently and hurt more than ever. I had forgot about it in the thrill of the fight. It was probably badly sprained, by the look of it. It was inflamed and stiff, and it had swollen to the size of a baseball. 

Very slowly, I propped myself up on my elbows. I sat up. I leaned on my good wrist. I, out of habit, put pressure on my other wrist. A sharp pain shot up my arm, and I trembled and collapsed. 

So, aside from my busted lip, sprained wrist, bruised ribs and lasting agony that prevented my from doing anything useful, not to mention my black eye, I was fine.

I scooted backward and propped myself up against the wall of a building. I looked around for anything I could do to help myself. Nothing much. I gazed at the opening to the alleyway, looking for someone. I remembered how Darry ran away with two tough Socs chasing him. I hoped he was alright. I wonder where he is now. 

I let myself slowly drift off. I started thinking of Darry. I didn't catch myself this time. I let myself melt into the memories of us together. I longed the feeling of him close to me, of his body against mine. 

I slowly drifted off deeper into thought.

"Dally?"

I could even hear his voice.

"Dal!"

This time he sounded more alarmed. I startled awake and opened my eyes a little, then all the way. There he was, right in front of me. He wasn't hurt, thank goodness. That was all I needed to know.

I smiled at him. "Hey, Dar." 

He was blinking back tears and choking back sobs. "What happened to you?"

I kept smiling, grateful that Darry was here by my side. "I got beat up."

Darry took a few deep breaths, and then sighed. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."

I immediately started lifting myself off the ground to follow him, and this time I was so tired I didn't even have to feel my wrist before I collapsed. What fun!

Darry looked at me with those gentle blue eyes. "Oh, Dal..."

Without hesitation, he picked me up and carried me away. I looked up at him. I took note of the visible stress in his expression. I relaxed into his arms and drifted off into a deep sleep.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked up at the ceiling. My entire body hurt, a subtle hum of pain the ran from my head to my ankles. Yeah, my feet got off scot-free. I lifted my head slightly and noticed that I had been stripped of everything but my jeans, which were rolled up a little higher than my knees. My torso, forearms, and shins were bandaged up. My lip throbbed, and it put the "pain" in... pain is just one word. Right. I looked up at my injured wrist, which was wresting on a pillow with an ice pack. The swelling had gone down, and it didn't hurt as bad as it did before. 

I slowly sat up, keeping my wrist elevated. I looked around and saw Darry curled up on the other end of the couch, fast asleep. I smiled, but was confronted by a sudden shock of pain from my lip. I grunted in response and recoiled. It then hit me how badly everything hurt. I let out a groan, and tensed up, willing the agony to go away. Darry yawned and opened his eyes, and turned his head to look at me. 

"Oh!- Let me get an ice pack for you, Dal." Darry shot up and started towards the kitchen, but I grabbed his wrist.

"It's fine, I can do without it," I hesitated, "But it would be nice to have someone to talk to."

Darry looked down and fought a smile. He sat down next to me. He turned around to look at me, his blue eyes looking into mine. I tried to imagine how mine looked to him. Mine aren't near as beautiful as his. Mine are a harsh, silvery blue, almost like the sky before it rains. People always ask why I glare at them for no reason, and I was starting to think it was solely because of my eyes. I thought they were kind of ugly, but apparently Darry thought differently.

"You have pretty eyes," He said quietly, looking down at the carpet. He swallowed nervously. I grinned. I had a feeling that I knew why he was acting up, but I wasn't about to pick on him, knowing what it feels like. It probably wasn't true anyway.

"You too," I replied. I ran my fingers through his hair, which didn't have any grease in it. It kicked out a little in the back, as usual. His hair hung in wild bangs that rested in his face. I never saw it because of the grease, but there were subtle caramel-brown highlights that ran through the locks of brown hair that had been sun-bleached to a gentle brunette. His hair fell across his perfect face, highlighting his features.

Darry swatted at my hand and yawned, rubbing his eyes.

"What time is it?" I wondered. Darry checked his wristwatch.

"Almost ten. You've been out for several hours," He replied.

He spaced out, and you could see something click in his head as he looked up at me. He opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, and then continued.

"Dal, when we were in the alleyway earlier-"

"Hard to believe that was this morning," I interrupted. I knew where this was going. Butterflies started a riot in my stomach and I felt the blood rush to my face. I wanted him to know, but at the same time, I didn't. It was weird. It made my heart race and my head get light, and I nearly forgot my own name.

Long story short: You know that feeling you get in your stomach when you start driving super fast or go downhill on a rollercoaster? Yeah, that's about it. A complicated mix of fear and excitement and a whole bunch of other feelings.

Darry looked at me with eyes full of empathy, and I looked away. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and my heart skipped a beat.

"Dal," Darry questioned, "Are you gay?"

My heart nearly stopped on that last word. It was a truth I had been trying to ignore, even when I wasn't. I had liked girls, but I got to admit, Darry is something else. I loved him, and I knew it. I sometimes wish I didn't though. 

I looked down shamefully. I was cornered. I stayed silent, hoping he'd just let it past and we could continue on with our lives. I could feel Darry's eyes on me, begging for an answer. I couldn't bring myself to admit that I liked guys. I just couldn't.

Darry seemed to get the message. He leaned in and wrapped his arms around me, and he tucked his chin into my shoulder.

"I just want you to know that I get it, alright Dal?" He said through a yawn.

"Alright." I said, just as tired myself. I watched as he slowly drifted off, eyes slowly fluttering shut. I stroked his hair. I felt the fatigue come over me, and I fought to stay awake. But eventually I gave in and slowly fell asleep.

Sleep is a wonderful thing, especially for gay degenerates in the sixties that like flirting with each other.

About the head in shoulder thing Darry does: It kinda hurts. Not the greatest thing on the planet, but its super cute to watch.

Stay gold. Be bold. Stay strong, live on, and power to the local dreamer.

Stay Alive.