A/N: hey guys i’m back :3 this isn’t finished, but i love writing the two-bit getting jumped scene oh so very much :) i don’t think im gonna finish it but *shrugs*
Marcia knew this was a bad idea the second she got in the car.
Nobody had told her where they were going.
Just that they were going to "blow off steam" after the funeral.
After Bob's funeral.
After standing in black dresses and stiff shoes and watching his mother cry.
Now they were in an empty lot on the edge of town.
And Two-Bit Mathews was on the ground.
Everything happened too fast.
Paul and Brill grabbed him first.
Two-Bit fought like a wild animal the second he realized who'd jumped him.
A fist connected with somebody's jaw.
Someone cursed.
Then Chet got his legs.
Brill locked both hands around his shoulders.
Paul planted a foot against his stomach.
And suddenly Two-Bit was pinned.
Still fighting.
Still twisting.
Still snarling.
"Get off me!" he shouted.
His voice cracked with effort.
Marcia's heart dropped.
Nobody was supposed to get hurt.
They were just supposed to scare him.
At least that's what she'd told herself.
But then she looked around.
At Trip.
At Paul.
At Chet.
At Bev.
And realized none of them looked interested in scaring anybody.
Trip was grinning.
Actually grinning.
"Look at him," he laughed.
Two-Bit spat toward him.
Missed.
Trip just laughed harder.
Marcia took a step forward.
"Guys..."
Nobody listened.
"Guys, seriously, that's enough."
Still nothing.
Two-Bit's chest was heaving.
He bucked violently.
Brill nearly lost his grip.
"Hold still!" Brill barked.
"Go to hell!"
Marcia saw blood on Two-Bit's lip.
Her stomach twisted.
She needed to stop this.
Needed to do something.
But there were five of them.
And one of her.
And Trip was standing right there.
Then Bev looked up.
Their eyes met.
For a second Marcia thought maybe Bev was uncomfortable too.
Maybe she'd finally realized this had gone too far.
Instead...
Bev smiled.
A slow, awful smile.
Marcia froze.
No.
No, no, no.
Bev took a drag from her cigarette.
Then crouched beside Two-Bit.
His eyes narrowed.
"What're you doing?"
Bev didn't answer.
She just looked directly at Marcia.
Still smiling.
Like this was a private joke.
Like she knew something.
Marcia's blood turned cold.
"Bev."
The girl's smile widened.
"Bev, don't."
Nobody else seemed to understand what was happening.
But Bev did.
And Marcia did.
Because Bev knew.
She knew about the late-night phone calls.
The drive-ins.
The stolen kisses.
The way Marcia looked at Two-Bit when she thought nobody noticed.
Bev knew.
And she wanted Marcia to know she knew.
Two-Bit tried to jerk away.
"Get the hell away from me."
Bev grabbed his jaw.
And pressed the burning tip of the cigarette against his cheek.
The sound that came out of him didn't even sound human.
A/N: i don’t like this but @faultycoldstars has kinda made johnnyboy take over my brain so
The Curtis house was unusually quiet.
Not empty quiet. Not the kind that made your skin crawl.
Just soft.
The kind of quiet that settled over the house when nobody was fighting, nobody was worried, and nobody was waiting for something bad to happen.
Johnny wasn't entirely used to it.
He sat curled into the corner of the couch with an old blanket over his lap. Ponyboy was sprawled beside him, one leg hanging over the armrest, a battered copy of Gone with the Wind open in his hands.
Johnny had heard parts of it before.
Pony never seemed to get tired of reading it.
"...and Scarlett looked at him and knew everything had changed," Pony read.
His voice was low and steady.
Johnny wasn't really listening to the story anymore.
He was listening to Pony.
The rhythm of his voice.
The way he turned pages.
The warmth of his shoulder pressed against Johnny's.
Every now and then Pony would pause and ask, "Still awake?"
And Johnny would mumble, "Yeah."
Even when he was halfway asleep.
From upstairs came a burst of laughter.
Soda.
Then Steve saying something that made him laugh harder.
Then Two-Bit loudly declaring that he was being "bullied by affection."
The laughter faded again.
Johnny smiled.
"Think they're ever gonna come downstairs?" he asked.
Pony snorted.
"Nope."
"Ever?"
"Not tonight."
Johnny laughed quietly.
The front door opened.
A moment later Darry's voice drifted in.
"How are three grown men this loud?"
"Practice," Dally answered.
Johnny glanced toward the hallway.
Darry and Dally stepped inside carrying takeout bags.
Darry looked relaxed.
Actually relaxed.
Johnny couldn't remember the last time he'd seen that.
Dally looked the same as always until he spotted Johnny and Pony curled together on the couch.
Then his expression softened for half a second.
"So the kids didn't burn the house down."
"We considered it," Pony said.
"Still might."
"Fair."
Darry set the food on the table.
"Anybody hungry?"
Immediately there was a stampede from upstairs.
Soda appeared first.
Steve right behind him.
Two-Bit nearly tripped over the last three stairs.
"Food!" Two-Bit announced dramatically.
"Food," Soda agreed.
"Food," Steve echoed.
Darry pinched the bridge of his nose.
Johnny watched the chaos unfold.
Everybody talking over each other.
Two-Bit stealing fries.
Steve stealing them back.
Soda laughing so hard he nearly dropped his drink.
Darry pretending to be annoyed.
Dally pretending not to be fond of any of them.
For a moment Johnny just sat there.
Watching.
Listening.
Nobody yelling.
Nobody hitting.
Nobody drunk.
Nobody angry.
Just people.
People who wanted him there.
Pony nudged his shoulder.
"You okay?"
Johnny blinked.
"Yeah."
"You got that look."
"What look?"
"The one where you're thinking too much."
Johnny looked around the room again.
At all of them.
Then at Pony.
And for once, the knot he usually carried around in his chest wasn't there.
"I was just thinking," Johnny said quietly, "that this is nice."
Pony smiled.
The kind of smile that always looked completely genuine.
"Yeah," he said.
"It is."
And Johnny believed it.
For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel like a guest in somebody else's life.
He felt like he belonged there.
Right on that couch.
Wrapped in a blanket.
Listening to Pony read stories while the people he loved filled the house with noise.
A/N: i absolutely hate this but look at me with longer paragraphs
Johnny didn’t really think it through.
He just walked. Blocks folding into more blocks, the cold settling into his jacket like it had decided to stay there permanently. His parents had stopped yelling eventually, which somehow felt worse than the yelling itself. Silence was always the final verdict. You don’t belong here. Just without anyone bothering to say it out loud anymore.
So he ended up at the Curtis house.
He told himself it was just somewhere warm. Somewhere empty. Darry at work, Soda probably out, Ponyboy probably at the movies or with friends. Just a place to sit for a while and then leave before anyone had to notice him too long. He turned the knob carefully, like the house might reject him on contact, and slipped inside.
The living room was not empty.
Ponyboy was there, sprawled sideways on the couch like gravity had given up arguing with him. A book lay open on his chest, rising and falling slightly with his breathing. The lamp cast a soft gold shape across the room, catching in his hair. For a second, Johnny froze in the doorway, already halfway back out mentally. Wrong timing. Wrong idea. Wrong everything.
Then Pony looked up.
“JOHNNY!”
It wasn’t loud like a shout meant to accuse. It was loud like recognition. Like relief that had been waiting all day for a name. Pony was off the couch in an instant, book sliding to the floor and forgotten, already crossing the room before Johnny could even properly decide to run.
Johnny barely got a step backward before Pony grabbed his wrist and pulled him in with a kind of effortless certainty that didn’t feel like force, just inevitability. Pony didn’t ask questions first. He just anchored him there, like Johnny was something that had been drifting too far out in a river.
“You’re freezing,” Pony said immediately, as if that was the most important problem in the universe. Not the tension in Johnny’s shoulders. Not the way he looked like he was bracing for impact that hadn’t happened yet. Just the cold. Pony tugged him toward the couch again. “Sit down. Seriously, sit down.”
Johnny hesitated like the floor might open up if he obeyed too quickly, but Pony didn’t give him time to spiral. He was already talking again, words spilling out in that steady, familiar rhythm of his.
“I was reading this thing for English and it’s actually not terrible for once, which is weird because usually it’s just misery disguised as homework, but this one’s about this kid who runs away and I swear the teacher doesn’t even realize half of us are just like, one bad day away from doing the same thing—”
He kept talking as he pulled Johnny down onto the couch, like conversation was something that could be wrapped around a person as a blanket. Johnny sat stiff for about three seconds before Pony simply decided he was done with that and leaned into him instead, shoulder pressing into Johnny’s side like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And then Pony did something even stranger.
He kissed Johnny’s cheek mid-sentence, like punctuation that didn’t need permission.
Johnny went still.
Pony didn’t stop talking.
“Anyway, it made me think of you, not in a bad way, just like, you would probably argue with the ending because you always do that thing where you pretend you don’t care but you totally do and—”
Another kiss, lighter this time, near the corner of Johnny’s mouth. Still not stopping. Still completely normal in Ponyboy logic.
Johnny’s breath hitched like his body had forgotten how to decide what to do. His hands stayed half-raised for a second, then slowly settled against Pony’s sleeve, unsure whether they were allowed to hold on.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” Johnny said finally, voice rougher than he meant it to be.
Pony’s talking paused for the first time. Not fully gone, just softened, like a radio turning down volume instead of switching off.
“Yeah,” Pony said simply. No interrogation. No demand for explanation. Just acknowledgment, like it made perfect sense.
He shifted closer, curling into Johnny properly now, head resting against his shoulder. “You can come here. You know that, right?”
Johnny didn’t answer right away. That kind of sentence didn’t have a place in his head where it could safely land. It just hung there, unfamiliar and heavy and warm at the same time.
Pony nudged him again, like a reminder rather than pressure. “Hey. I’m serious.”
Johnny let out a slow breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His fingers finally closed properly around Pony’s sleeve.
“…Okay,” he said, like he was testing whether the word was allowed to exist.
Pony hummed in response and, as if the conversation had never paused at all, kept talking about books again, about teachers who didn’t understand their own assignments, about Soda’s questionable snack choices, about anything and everything that kept the room full enough that Johnny didn’t have to fill it alone.
And every so often, Pony would tilt his head and press another small kiss into Johnny’s skin, like he was quietly rewriting the rules of what being left alone was supposed to mean.
A/N: RiSa sTOP mAKinG yOur fAvEoRiTe cHaRcaTeRs jEwiSH! NO. FUCK YOU (there’s a @scribbledstars16 ref in that sentence if ykyk)
anyway marbit wedding where Marcia is Jewish and Two-bit had no warning about the Horah
Two-Bit had survived a lot of things in his life.
Street fights.
Darry Curtis lectures.
A hangover that one time after Buck's.
Meeting Marcia's entire extended family.
But absolutely nothing could have prepared him for this.
The wedding reception had been going great. There was food, music, dancing, and Marcia looked so pretty that every time he glanced at her his brain briefly stopped working.
Which was embarrassing. He prided himself on always having something smart to say.
Then the band suddenly switched songs.
A bunch of people rushed toward the dance floor.
Two-Bit blinked.
"What's happening?"
Marcia, who had immediately lit up like Christmas morning, grabbed both his hands.
"The horah!"
"The what?"
"The horah!"
That explained absolutely nothing.
Before he could ask another question, several of Marcia's cousins appeared.
And they were carrying chairs.
Two-Bit stared.
"...Why do y'all have chairs?"
Nobody answered him.
Which, in hindsight, should have been a warning sign.
Marcia was laughing so hard she nearly doubled over.
"Keith."
That was another warning sign. She only called him Keith when she was either very emotional or about to watch something ridiculous happen.
"What?"
"Trust me."
"Marcia, sweetheart, I love you dearly, but those people are carrying furniture."
Then two cousins grabbed him.
"HEY."
Another grabbed Marcia.
"WAIT."
Someone shoved a chair behind him.
"NOW HOLD ON."
And suddenly he was sitting.
Several things happened at once.
The music got louder.
People started cheering.
The chair left the floor.
Two-Bit's soul immediately left his body right behind it.
"JESUS CHRIST!"
The room erupted with laughter.
Marcia's chair rose beside his.
She was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
Two-Bit clutched the sides of the chair.
"MARCIA."
She was crying now.
"YES?"
"WE ARE IN THE AIR."
"I KNOW!"
"WHY ARE WE IN THE AIR?"
"It's tradition!"
"THIS CANNOT POSSIBLY BE A TRADITION."
The chair bounced.
Two-Bit made a sound that nobody had ever heard from him before.
Across the room, Ponyboy was bent over wheezing.
Sodapop had fallen into a chair because he couldn't stand up from laughing.
Steve was recording the whole thing.
Traitor.
Darry had his face buried in one hand.
The chair bounced again.
Two-Bit's grip somehow tightened.
"MARCIA."
"YES, HONEY?"
"I'M GONNA DIE."
"No, you're not."
"I'M ACTIVELY DYING."
The people carrying him started spinning.
The world became a blur of lights, music, and terrible decisions.
Two-Bit looked down.
Instant regret.
"NOPE."
Marcia was still laughing.
"YOU DIDN'T TELL ME ABOUT THIS."
"You never asked!"
"WHO ASKS IF THEIR WEDDING INCLUDES BEING THROWN INTO THE SKY?"
One of Marcia's uncles yelled something in Hebrew.
The crowd cheered.
The chair bounced even higher.
Two-Bit's eyes widened.
"THAT WAS HIGHER."
"PROBABLY."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN PROBABLY?"
Marcia reached over and grabbed one of his hands.
It was honestly impressive she managed it considering he was gripping the chair like it owed him money.
"Keith."
"What?"
Her smile softened.
Just a little.
"We're married."
Two-Bit looked at her.
The music was loud.
The room was spinning.
He was still fairly certain he was moments from death.
But she looked happy.
Really happy.
And suddenly the panic eased a little.
"Ain't that something."
Marcia squeezed his hand.
Then the chair bounced again.
The panic immediately returned.
"NOPE. NEVER MIND."
Marcia cackled.
Two-Bit pointed accusingly at her while still clutching the chair with his other hand.
"YOU KNEW."
"I DID."
"YOU SET ME UP."
"I DID."
"I TRUSTED YOU."
"I KNOW."
The chair finally started lowering.
Two-Bit had never been so grateful to see the floor in his entire life.
The second his feet touched the ground, he stood up and kissed Marcia.
The crowd immediately cheered.
When they finally pulled apart, Marcia was smiling.
Two-Bit narrowed his eyes.
"I'm getting revenge."
She laughed.
"For what?"
"For attempted murder."
"Keith, that's not what happened."
"You launched me."
"It was a chair."
"It was airborne."
Marcia leaned up and kissed his cheek.
"You loved it."
Two-Bit opened his mouth.
Paused.
Thought about it.
"...Okay, maybe a little."
"That's what I thought."
From somewhere behind them, Steve yelled,
"DO IT AGAIN."
Two-Bit spun around.
"STEVE RANDLE IF YOU PUT ME BACK IN THAT CHAIR I WILL STRANGLE YOU."
The entire reception dissolved into laughter.
Including Marcia.
Especially Marcia.
And despite all his complaints, Two-Bit couldn't stop grinning. Even if marrying her apparently came with surprise aviation.
A/N: Hey guys!! Had an idea a little bit ago and lwk abandoned this, but wanted to finish it. That’s why the lines are so short lol
The front door creaked open and Sodapop stepped inside already running on fumes.
The day had been one disaster after another. A customer at the DX had chewed him out over something that wasn't even his fault. He'd dropped a crate and nearly gotten himself hurt. His paycheck had been smaller than he expected. His truck had refused to start for ten straight minutes. Every little thing had stacked itself on his shoulders until it felt like he was carrying a whole building.
All he wanted was home.
Just home.
Just Darry's cooking, Pony's dumb stories, Steve making fun of everybody, Two-Bit saying something ridiculous.
Instead he walked into a war zone.
"You don't get it, Darry!"
"I get it just fine, Pony!"
The shouting hit him before he even got the door closed.
Everyone was there.
Steve was sitting on the couch.
Johnny and Dally were leaning against the wall.
Two-Bit had somehow gone completely silent, which was probably the most alarming thing in the room.
Nobody was moving.
Nobody was talking.
Because Darry and Pony were screaming at each other in the middle of the living room.
Pony's face was red.
Darry looked exhausted and furious all at once.
The argument was moving too fast to even follow.
"You never listen to me!"
"Because all you do is tell me what I'm doing wrong!"
"Maybe because you're acting like an idiot!"
"Maybe because you're not my father!"
The room went dead.
Even Dally winced.
Darry's jaw tightened.
Pony looked like he regretted the words the second they left his mouth.
Soda stayed by the door.
Nobody noticed him.
Not at first.
He stood there with one hand still on the knob.
Just staring.
The exhaustion from the day mixed with the shouting until it felt like his skull was splitting open.
Darry yelling.
Pony yelling.
Neither one stopping.
Neither one seeing him.
The room blurred.
He swallowed.
Hard.
"Darry..."
Nobody heard him.
"Darry."
Nothing.
His voice wasn't loud enough.
The fight kept going.
And something inside him finally snapped.
His shoulders folded inward.
Like somebody had cut the strings holding him up.
Steve noticed first.
"Soda?"
Soda's eyes were shining.
That alone made Steve sit upright.
Because Sodapop Curtis cried about as often as the sun forgot to rise.
"Soda?"
The argument stopped.
Darry turned.
Pony turned.
Everybody turned.
Soda looked at all of them.
His brothers.
His friends.
His family.
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
For one awful second he looked completely shattered.
Then he turned around and ran.
The screen door slammed so hard it rattled the entire house.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Darry was the first to react.
"SODA!"
He lunged toward the door.
Steve grabbed his arm.
Hard.
Darry whipped around.
"What are you doing?!"
"I'm going."
"What?!"
"I'm going," Steve repeated.
The panic was already settling into his chest.
Because something had been wrong with Soda for weeks.
Months maybe.
The smiling.
The laughing.
The way he always made sure everybody else was okay.
And now Steve was replaying the look on his face.
The way he'd just...
collapsed.
Like he'd finally reached the end of something.
Steve shoved past everyone and headed for the door.
"Steve—"
"I'm serious, Darry."
Darry stopped.
Steve rarely sounded afraid.
He sounded afraid now.
"If he ran like that..." Steve swallowed. "If he ran like that, something's really wrong."
The words hit the room like a punch.
Because they all knew Steve best.
And Steve knew Soda best.
If Steve was worried?
Everybody should be worried.
Steve burst out the front door.
The evening air hit him immediately.
"SODA!"
Nothing.
Just distant traffic.
Crickets.
Darkness.
"SODA!"
Still nothing.
His stomach dropped.
Because Soda usually answered.
Always answered.
Even when he was mad.
Even when he was upset.
But not tonight.
Tonight there was only silence.
Behind him, he heard the others spilling out of the house.
Darry.
Pony.
Johnny.
Dally.
Everybody.
Looking around frantically.
Steve started down the street at a jog.
Then faster.
Then running.
Fear clawing higher with every step.
Because for the first time in his life, he had absolutely no idea where Sodapop Curtis had gone.
hello again!!! I saw your post about ships and one immediately caught my eye- 👀
I was wondering if you could do smth related to Chetsoda? Possibly them sneaking around while trying to not get noticed by their groups? It doesn’t have to be complicated, I just really want to see how you write them :D
(Absolutely no rush ofc! I absolutely adored the cherrycola fic you wrote, so I thought I’d send smth again)
A/N: Look at me knocking out my requests that have been sitting there too long (so sorry 😭) very much on a Chetsoda kick so thank u for the ask!!
The alley wasn't much to look at.
A narrow stretch of cracked pavement tucked between two buildings on the edge of town, half-hidden by rusted dumpsters and old brick walls. Most people wouldn't have given it a second glance.
Which was exactly why Soda and Chet liked it.
Nobody came here.
Nobody looked here.
And most importantly, nobody expected a greaser and a Soc to be meeting here.
Soda slipped into the alley first, hands shoved into his jacket pockets as he glanced over both shoulders. The sun was setting, painting everything orange and gold, and his heart was already beating a little faster.
Not because he was scared.
Well.
Maybe a little.
But mostly because he knew who was about to show up.
A few moments later, another figure appeared from the opposite end.
Chet.
The second their eyes met, both of them smiled.
It happened every time.
Like neither of them could help it.
Chet had clearly snuck out in a hurry. His hair wasn't styled quite right, and his collar was slightly crooked.
Soda immediately pointed at it.
"You look rich but disheveled."
Chet looked down.
"My collar?"
"Your collar."
"Damn."
"You'd never survive as a greaser."
"Good thing I'm pretty."
Soda barked out a laugh.
"That confidence."
"You love it."
"Unfortunately."
By now they were standing only a few feet apart.
Close enough to touch.
Neither of them moved.
Not yet.
Part of the thrill was getting there.
Chet folded his arms.
"Your gang see you leave?"
"Nope."
"Darry?"
"Working."
"Sodapop Curtis, lying to his family."
Soda put a hand over his chest.
"I know. Tragic."
Chet's grin widened.
"Should I alert the newspapers?"
"Please don't."
They stared at each other for another second.
Then another.
The grin on Chet's face softened.
Soda felt his stomach do a ridiculous little flip.
God.
It was stupid.
Absolutely stupid.
He'd seen Chet hundreds of times by now.
And somehow he still reacted like this.
Like a fourteen-year-old with a crush.
"You know," Chet said quietly, stepping closer, "I risked my life getting here."
"Oh, really?"
"Absolutely."
"Your life."
"Paul nearly caught me leaving."
Soda snorted.
"Poor thing."
"You don't understand."
Chet pressed a hand dramatically against his chest.
"He asked where I was going."
"The horror."
"I had to lie."
Soda was trying so hard not to laugh.
Chet pointed accusingly.
"See? You're making fun of my suffering."
"Because your suffering is stupid."
"It was terrifying."
"You're so dramatic."
"I'm beautiful and dramatic."
Soda finally lost the battle and laughed.
The sound echoed slightly off the brick walls.
For a moment neither of them cared.
Neither of them worried.
Neither of them thought about Socs or greasers or fights or expectations.
It was just them.
Then Chet reached out and grabbed the front of Soda's jacket.
The laughter immediately died.
"Hi," Chet said.
Soda swallowed.
"Hi."
"You're staring."
"So are you."
"Fair."
Neither moved away.
Not even a little.
Chet's hand remained tangled in Soda's jacket.
Soda could feel the warmth of him even through the fabric.
Close.
So close.
The whole world seemed to shrink until it was just this tiny alley and the boy standing in front of him.
A car passed somewhere nearby.
Both of them instinctively glanced toward the street.
Old habits.
Old fears.
When no one appeared, they relaxed again.
Chet looked back at him.
"You know what?"
"What?"
"I missed you."
Soda's expression immediately softened.
The teasing vanished.
Underneath all the flirting and jokes and sneaking around, they genuinely liked each other.
A lot.
And some days that made everything harder.
Because they couldn't just walk up to each other in public.
Couldn't sit together.
Couldn't be seen together.
Couldn't do any of the normal things couples were supposed to do.
So sometimes a few days apart felt longer than it should.
"I missed you too," Soda admitted.
Something warm flashed across Chet's face.
The look alone nearly knocked the breath out of him.
"Come here," Chet murmured.
Soda didn't need to be told twice.
He stepped forward.
Chet met him halfway.
Their foreheads bumped lightly together first.
Then their noses.
Both of them smiling.
Both of them completely ridiculous.
The kiss was quick at first. Then it deepened, both lengthening it until they had to come up to breathe.
When they pulled apart Soda was grinning.
"Why are you smiling?"
"Because you're smiling."
"That's not a reason."
"It is."
"No."
"Yes."
They were still standing ridiculously close.
Still holding onto each other's jackets.
Still smiling like idiots.
Neither of them had really come to the alley for deep conversations.
But somehow they always ended up having them anyway.
At least for a little while.
Before eventually remembering exactly why they'd risked sneaking out in the first place.
And judging by the look Chet was giving him now, they were both remembering at the same time.
The sound of distant voices suddenly drifted from the street.
Both boys froze.
Immediately.
Chet's eyes widened.
Soda's heart nearly stopped.
A second later they both scrambled apart so fast it would've looked ridiculous to anyone watching.
"Natural," Chet whispered.
"We look natural."
"We look incredibly suspicious."
"We absolutely do."
The voices passed.
Neither group came into the alley.
The danger disappeared as quickly as it arrived.
For a second there was silence.
Then Soda started laughing.
Chet followed right after.
And eventually, when the street went quiet again and the sun dipped lower behind the buildings, they drifted back toward each other.
A/N: hi Kat! Thanks for the ask, i genuinely haven’t written pb&j in like…ever?
Ponyboy shoved the front door open harder than he meant to.
The screen door rattled behind him.
Everything about today had been awful.
The Socs had started on him before first period and hadn't really stopped. Nothing physical, just enough comments and sneers to wear him down. Then he'd gotten his math test back.
A D.
A stupid, ugly D scribbled in red pencil across the top of the page.
His stomach twisted just thinking about it.
Darry was gonna kill him.
The house was quiet when he stepped inside, dropping his books onto the table with a dull thud.
Good.
Nobody was home.
He didn't really feel like talking.
He was halfway toward his room when he noticed somebody curled up on the couch.
Johnny.
Pony slowed.
Johnny had one arm hanging off the side of the couch and was staring at the ceiling like he'd been lost in thought for an hour.
The second he noticed Ponyboy, his face brightened.
"Hey."
The simple greeting almost made him cry.
Today had been so full of people being jerks that hearing Johnny's soft voice felt like finally stepping out of the rain.
"Hey," Pony mumbled back.
Johnny immediately sat up.
His smile faded.
"What's wrong?"
He sighed.
"Nothing."
Johnny raised an eyebrow.
Pony rolled his eyes.
"Okay, stuff."
"That's what I thought."
Despite himself, Pony huffed out a laugh.
Johnny scooted over on the couch.
"Come here."
Normally Pony would've made some sarcastic comment.
Today he didn't have the energy.
He just walked over and practically collapsed beside him.
Johnny made a tiny surprised noise as Ponyboy immediately buried his face against his shoulder.
"Rough day?"
"Mhm."
"School?"
"Mhm."
"The Socs?"
"Mhm."
Johnny gently rested his cheek against Pony's hair.
For a minute neither of them said anything.
The silence felt nice.
Not awkward.
Just comfortable.
The kind of silence that lets your brain stop working for a while.
Eventually Johnny spoke.
"What happened?"
Pony groaned dramatically into his shoulder.
"Everything."
"Very descriptive."
"I know."
Johnny laughed softly.
Pony felt the vibration through his chest.
It made him smile a little despite himself.
After another moment he finally admitted, "I got a D on my math test."
Johnny winced.
"Ouch."
"Exactly."
"Darry's gonna be upset?"
Pony groaned louder.
"Exactly."
Johnny nodded sympathetically.
They both knew how much Pony cared about school.
People thought Pony was naturally smart, but they didn't always realize how hard he worked to stay that way.
A bad grade hit him harder than most people expected.
For a while Johnny just listened while Pony complained.
About school.
About math.
About Socs.
About teachers.
About everything.
And Johnny listened to every word.
By the time Pony finished, he felt lighter.
Like he'd emptied a backpack full of bricks.
Johnny reached up and brushed some hair out of his face.
"You know Darry's not gonna stop loving you because of one math test."
Pony snorted.
"I know."
"He'll probably just make you study more."
"That's somehow worse."
Johnny laughed.
Pony finally lifted his head enough to look at him.
Johnny's eyes were warm.
And suddenly Pony realized how close they were sitting.
Johnny must've noticed too.
His smile turned shy around the edges.
For a second neither of them moved.
Then Pony leaned forward.
Just a little.
Johnny met him halfway.
The kiss was gentle.
Johnny's hand found Ponyboy's shoulder while Pony leaned closer.
The kind of kiss that made everything else fade into the background for a minute.
School.
Math.
Socs.
Darry.
All of it.
Gone.
When they pulled apart, Johnny was smiling.
Pony couldn't help smiling back.
"Feel any better?"
"A little."
"Only a little?"
"Okay, a lot."
"There we go."
Johnny settled back against the couch cushions and opened one arm.
Pony immediately took the invitation.
"No shame," Johnny teased.
"None."
Within seconds Pony was stretched halfway across him, head tucked beneath Johnny's chin.
Johnny wrapped both arms around him without hesitation.
The house remained quiet around them.
No Darry.
No Soda.
No yelling.
No homework.
No responsibilities.
Just the ticking clock in the kitchen and the occasional rumble of a passing car outside.
Johnny absentmindedly played with Pony's hair while Pony slowly relaxed against him.
His eyes drifted shut.
The weight he'd been carrying all day seemed to melt away piece by piece.
Johnny pressed a kiss against the top of his head.
"You can nap if you want."
Pony made a sleepy noise.
"Maybe."
"You definitely want to."
"Maybe."
Johnny laughed quietly.
A few minutes later Pony was almost asleep curled against Johnny.
The math test could wait.
Darry could wait.
The whole world could wait.
For right now, he just wanted to stay exactly where he was.
A/N: Was thinking about weddings today and thought i might do with chetsoda cause yes obviously why wouldn’t you. @i-am-a-guest cause you probably wanna see this lol
BRILL'S SPEECH
Brill stands and raises his glass.
Looks at Chet.
Then at Soda.
Smiles.
"Most people think relationships are built out of big moments."
A pause.
"First dates. First kisses. Anniversaries. Weddings."
He gestures around the room.
"Things like this."
The crowd nods.
"But I've never really believed that."
Brill glances at Chet.
"I think relationships are built in grocery stores."
The room laughs.
Chet immediately groans.
"Because that's where you learn who somebody is."
More laughter.
"Who remembers the list."
"Who somehow buys seventeen snacks and none of the actual groceries."
Soda raises a hand.
"Guilty."
Brill smiles.
"Seriously, though."
His voice lowers.
"I've watched these two for years."
A glance toward them.
"And what always stood out wasn't the grand gestures."
A pause.
"It was the Tuesdays."
The room quiets.
"It was ordinary days."
A small smile.
"The way Soda remembers everybody's favorite drink."
"The way Chet notices when Soda's having a bad day before anybody else."
A glance at both of them.
"The way they take care of each other without keeping score."
"And that's what makes me so happy today."
Brill lifts his glass.
"Not because they found each other."
His smile widens.
"But because they keep choosing each other."
A pause.
"Every ordinary day."
TRIP'S SPEECH
Trip immediately opens with:
"Okay, first of all, I was told to keep this under ten minutes."
The room groans.
"When Chet first told me about Soda, he spent twenty minutes describing him."
Trip points dramatically.
"And somehow never mentioned his name."
The room laughs.
Chet covers his face.
"He was like, 'There's this guy.'"
"Very kind."
"Very funny."
"Talks with his hands."
"Has approximately seven hundred emotions."
Soda laughs.
"And after twenty minutes I finally asked..."
Trip pauses dramatically.
"'Buddy, are you in love?'"
The room loses it.
Chet is dying.
“And his only answer to that was 'I just think he's great.'”
The room erupts.
Trip grins.
"And now look at him."
He gestures toward the newlyweds.
"Married."
The room cheers.
Then his expression softens.
"Truthfully..."
A pause.
"I've never seen Chet happier."
He looks directly at Soda.
"So thank you."
BOB'S SPEECH
Bob stands and clears his throat.
"I prepared a speech."
A pause.
"I lost it."
The room laughs.
"So here's what I've got."
He points at Chet.
"You're annoying."
Then points at Soda.
"You're also annoying."
More laughter
Bob nods.
"You deserve each other."
He pauses.
"You know what I like most about you two?"
Silence.
Bob shrugs.
"You make things easier."
The room stills.
"Life is hard."
A pause.
"It just is."
Another.
"But when I'm around you guys..."
A smile.
"It feels lighter."
He lifts his glass.
"And everybody deserves somebody who makes life lighter."
DARRY'S SPEECH
The second Darry stands, Soda starts crying.
Immediately.
"Darry hasn't even said anything!" Pony yells.
Darry laughs.
Already emotional.
"I've been trying to write this speech for months."
A pause.
"And every version sounded terrible."
The room chuckles.
He looks at Soda.
"When our parents died..."
The room goes quiet.
Very quiet.
"I spent a long time trying to keep everybody together."
A pause.
"I wasn't very good at it."
Immediate protests.
Darry ignores them.
"I made mistakes."
His eyes find Soda.
"Lots of them."
Soda is openly crying now.
"But through every single one..."
Darry swallows.
"My brother kept loving me anyway."
"He has the biggest heart of anybody I've ever known."
A tear slips free.
"He always has."
A laugh.
"Even when it drove me crazy."
Then Darry turns toward Chet.
"And thank you."
The room stills.
"For loving him."
PONY'S SPEECH
Pony arrives carrying notecards.
Everyone cheers.
"I have six pages."
The room groans.
"I'M KIDDING."
Pony smiles, looks at Soda, and laughs.
"You know, growing up, I thought my brother knew everybody."
A pause.
"Then I got older and realized everybody knew my brother."
The room laughs.
Because it's true.
Everybody knows Soda.
Pony's expression softens.
"He made every room brighter."
A pause.
"He still does."
Then he glances toward Chet.
"And one day he met somebody who made him brighter too."
"I think that's my favorite thing about them."
A smile.
"They make each other more themselves."
STEVE
The room is already wrecked when Steve stands.
“So I wasn't prepared. I literally wrote this in the parking lot, sorry if it sucks.”
"I've known Soda basically my whole life."
A pause.
"And for most of that time he was annoying."
The room cheers.
Soda gasps dramatically.
Steve ignores him.
"But he's also..."
He stops.
Searching for words.
"He's the best friend I've ever had."
Soda's eyes fill.
Steve notices and points.
"If you cry, I'm leaving."
"You’re literally crying."
"I'm not."
"You're literally crying."
The room is losing it.
Steve wipes his face aggressively.
Then looks toward Chet.
And suddenly becomes serious again.
"You take care of him."
A pause.
"And he takes care of you."
Another.
"That's all I ever wanted."
The room collectively dies.
Then Steve lifts his glass.
"To the idiots."
The crowd cheers.
Soda immediately stands to hug Steve, grinning through tears.
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