summary: you get very distracted by your handsome neighbor (who is equally distracted by you) and meet the rest of the gang part iii of the girl across the way (can be read as a stand alone tho!)
content: flirting. yearning (just kiss already!). shirtless darry. pony is so baby brother coded. dally being soft and yet still very dally. steve being a little bit of an asshole.
warning: implications and jokes around sex (the boys tease darry relentlessly). profanity. canon typical violence(ish)
a.n. this slow burn's finally heating up a bit!!!
Darry thought back to his conversation with the woman, the words echoing in his head. Don’t wait too long to show her.
Show you that you’re special? You had to know that. How could you not? Every child, animal, and person you met seemed to adore you. Hell, he swore the sunflowers in your garden would confuse you for the sun itself and stretch out toward you as they bloomed.
“Earth to Muscles,” Two-Bit snapped in front of his face. “What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing.” Darry snapped defensively.
Within seconds, the chaos of the room went quiet, and six pairs of eyes were on him.
“Damn, Darry, what’s got your panties in a wad?” Dally asked.
“Probably thinkin’ ’bout that babe across the street's panties,” Steve howled.
Darry grabbed an abandoned book off the table and swiftly chucked it at Steve’s head. Hard.
“Watch it, Randle,” Darry growled.
Dally smirked, “Looks like you found the soft spot, Stevie.”
“In all my years, I never thought I’d see Darrel Curtis nervous about some girl,” Two-Bit chimed in.
“That’s ‘cause she ain’t just any girl,” Soda teased, a dreamy expression in his eyes.
“You met her, Sodie? She hot?”
“Sodapop Patrick, don’t you go running your mouth now,” Darry warned.
Sodapop made the motion of zipping his lips before turning to Steve and nodding enthusiastically. He beamed, proud of his loophole.
“Do you really like her, Darry?” Ponyboy asked, finally entering the conversation. He had a look in his eye that Darry couldn’t quite place. Fear? Hope? He didn’t know.
Darry ran a hand through his hair before diverting the subject, “You boys here to play football or what?”
You had been trying to read. Key word: trying. But that ship seemed to sail when Darry Curtis’ shirt dropped to the pavement as he called out the phrase, “Shirts vs. skins.”
You knew he was fit. It was hard not notice the way his biceps practically stretched the sleeves of his t-shirts, the way his arms were thick with corded muscles, or that he had the broad shoulders of a linebacker, but damn your imagination couldn’t even fathom how absolutely toned his chest was.
And there he was, running around in his front yard with his friends, perfectly sculpted abdomen glistening from sweat that slid down his chest. You tried to be respectful. You really did, but you were only human. To make matters worse, he had definitely caught you staring. And what did he do? What did Darrel Curtis do? He smirked at you. That bastard smirked at you. Yeah, he waved, too, but that smirk? That smirk was personal.
“Shocked you haven’t burned a hole in her door yet,” Soda remarked, sitting beside his older brother on the front step.
You had walked inside about five minutes ago, and Darry really wasn’t doing the best job at hiding his disappointment.
“Ya know, she couldn’t stay outside all day. Sure, she has stuff to do.” The middle, Curtis continued to reason. “Besides, you missed a fatal flaw in your plan.”
Steve raised an eyebrow, rubbing his face with his shirt. “Get your head out of your ass, Darrel. We all know why you had the brilliant idea to play shirts vs skins.”
“Just an easier way to see who’s on whose team.”
“There are literally seven of us.”
“Okay, well-” Darry started, but was interrupted by your sweet chirp of a voice.
“Hey, boys! Halftime already?” You chirped, interrupting their previous conversation as you crossed the road with a tray of cookies.
“Somethin’ like that. How ya doing, honey?” Darry asked, ignoring the pointed looks he was receiving from the idiots he called his friends.
“I’m doing just fine. I’m sorry for intruding, just thought you boys could use a snack,” you said, offering out the treats.
Two-Bit nearly rushed you, swiping a cookie off the tray and dropping to one knee, “Marry me.”
“I’ll take it you’re Two-Bit?”
“Good to see ya, neighbor,” Soda smiled, pressing a kiss to your head as he grabbed more than his fair share of sweets.
“You didn’t have to do all this, honey,” Darry said as he took a cookie.
You did your best to keep your eyes on his rather than looking straight ahead at his bare chest, “Wanted to.”
He smiled slightly when he caught your eyes linger a little longer than they needed to, “Well, thank you.”
“Want one, Johnny baby?” You asked, leaning over the porch railing to extend the tray to the boy before all the cookies were gone.
He smiled shyly, “Yeah, thank ya.”
Darry smiled softly to himself. He had noticed Johnny walking out of your house in the morning before picking up Pony for school or coming over to watch cartoons. He’d asked you about it once, and you simply said, “He needs a home and I have a room,” shrugging as if that was the simplest arrangement in the world. You took good care of him. Darry could already see that Johnny was putting on a bit of much-needed weight, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you doted on him the same way you did his younger brothers.
“Johnnycakes, you’ve been holding out on me. You knew this babe and never introduced us?” Dally teased. He was kidding, mostly.
You giggled, “It’s okay, Darry. I’m kinda flattered- I’ve never been called a babe before.”
Darry crossed his arms and leaned back against the porch railing. “I find that highly unlikely.”
You smiled, “You calling me a liar?”
“I think I’m calling you oblivious.”
“You’re sure one to talk, darlin’.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Two-Bit, Steve, and Soda let out a chorus of oos reminiscent of the ones you’d hear in a classroom after getting called to the principal's office.
“So Johnnycakes,” you sat beside the boy, slinging your arm over his shoulders. “Can I expect you for dinner tonight? I’m going to try to make chicken. Promise it’ll only be slightly burnt.”
“You ain’t gotta do all that for me,” Johnny looked at you from beneath his bangs as he spoke.
“Why don’t the two of you join us for dinner? You know, we always have plenty of food.” Darry offered.
“Darry, with as much as you’ve been inviting me over, I’m starting to wonder if you’re doubting my cooking abilities,” you teased.
“Being neighborly, yeah, yeah.” You turned to the boys, “This one is Mr. Neighbor extraordinaire. He helped me move in, painted, and even built flower beds for me. I’m shocked the neighborhood hasn’t erected a statue of him yet.“
“Maybe that’s cause he only seems to care about being neighborly to you,” Pony murmured to himself, just barely loud enough for the boys to hear but quiet enough that you didn’t seem to.
“Maybe it’s cause he’s trying to erect something else,” Dally snided.
“Thanks for the reminder. Means I can do this,” Darry said, smirking slightly as he smacked the boy upside the head. Not particularly aggressively, but a little harder than he typically would. Definitely hard enough to send a message.
Pony took the seat beside you. “I just finished Hamlet.”
“On a Shakespeare kick, huh?” You gazed at Pony with an almost maternal care, reaching out to gently push his sweaty hair out of his face. “What’d ya think, sweet boy?”
Despite leaning into your touch, Pony’s face turned red. Bright tomato red. Cheeks, ears, the whole shabang.
“Damn! I always forget how fucking red Ponyboy gets,” Two-Bit exclaimed doubled over in laughter.
You retracted your hand quickly, a sympathetic expression crossing your features. “I’m sorry, am I embarrassing you, sweetheart?”
Ponyboy shook his head wide-eyed, “No, no.” He shot a menacing glare at the boys, “They’re just assholes.”
“Better watch your mouth, little boy. Darry’s gonna wash your mouth out with soap!” Steve laughed.
Darry shook his head and ruffled his brother's hair, earning yet another signature Pony death glare. “I’m gonna give this one to ‘im. Someone has to put y’all in your place every now and then.”
“I’ll be damned if that person is some fourteen year old kid,” Steve groaned.
“I am not a kid,” Pony jumped to his feet, bucking up to Steve.
“Yeah, throwing a tantrum’s really gonna help drive that point home. C’mon, we all know you’re a baby, sweet boy.”
With little to know warning, Ponyboy tackled Steve, head buried in his stomach to throw off the older boy's center of gravity. They fell down the porch stairs with a loud thud.
“Jesus Pony, your coach really oughta play you more,” Darry mused, pulling his baby brother up by the collar of his shirt.
Ponyboy, to everyone’s surprise, decided to join the football team this year. He was serious about it, too, and even joined Darry at the gym some nights. He’d grown quite a bit in the past year, nearly 5’11 and still growing. Darry couldn’t be prouder.
Steve advanced, ready to take his swing. Darry shook his head, “Picture day is next week. No black eyes, no bruises. Understood?”
Despite Darry’s stern tone, the boys continued to stare daggers at one another. Pony was so antsy he was practically vibrating.
“Pone, c’mere,” Soda called out, raising his arm slightly.
With one final glare, Pony turned to walk to his brother, letting him wrap his arm around his shoulders as he started telling him and Johnny a long and most definitely dramatized story.
Two-Bit stepped up to Steve, who was muttering curses to himself, “C’mon Stevie, let’s go get into some trouble, huh? Dal, you in?”
“We’ll catch y’all later,” Two-Bit waved, guiding Steve down the driveway before he did something stupid.
Dally put his hand on the back of Johnny’s neck and ruffled his hair as a quiet goodbye, “Stay outa of trouble.”
He looked at Pony, who was still wrapped in Soda’s arms. Pony’s eyes almost looked glassy; you’d later learn that he had a tendency to cry when he got really mad. Dally touched his head, “Remember what I told ya?”
Pony rubbed his eyes and nodded firmly.
“Good, you’re alright, man.” Dally turned to follow after the boys, pausing to shoot you a mischievous look, “Nice meeting you, babe.”
“Honey, why’d you make so many damn sides?” Darry asked, staring at the array of vegetables spread across your kitchen counter. He was in your house now, helping you as you packed the sides you had made to take over to his house for dinner.
“I’ve always been better at making sides. Besides, I’m still figuring out what Johnny likes. I’ve never had to feed a teenage boy before.”
Darry smiled, “Well, pro tip, they’ll eat just about anything you put in front of them.”
“Can I ask you something?” You didn’t wait for his response before continuing, “Do you think I embarrassed Ponyboy? I’ve never seen him act like that before, and I just… I can’t help but feel like that was my fault.”
“Honey, that ain’t your fault. Pony and Steve have been at each other’s throats as long as I can remember. Doesn’t help that his temper’s gotten a lot shorter after everything he’s been through this past year.”
“That makes sense. If there’s anything I can do to help… I… Do you think I should stop being-”
“No.” He wouldn’t even let you finish the thought. “Pony adores you. He glows when you’re sweet on him like that. I ain’t so good at that kinda stuff. One conversation with you and he’s practically floating down the street. He needs more of that. It’s real easy to become hardened in this neighborhood. I don’t want that for my little brother. People like you, Soda, and Johnny, I think y’all are all that stand between him and that life.”
“Dally seems to care about him an awful lot, too,” you said more to yourself than to him.
“Yeah, in his own way. He’s a character that’s for sure. They all are. I’m sorry you had to put up with them.”
“Don’t you dare apologize. I work with toddlers, there ain’t anything I can’t handle.” You paused before reaching out to take his hand in yours, “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re really good with Pony. He needs you, sweetie.”
Your kind eyes met his blue-green ones with a fire he’d never felt before in his life. What was this?
You released his hand, turning back to the task at hand. He watched as you scooped brussels sprouts out of a pan into a tupperware container.
“Now, can I ask you something?”
“Only seems fair,” You lilted.
“What’d ya mean earlier? About me being oblivious?”
You shook your head, laughing, as you exclaimed, “I’m just saying, I know you got mirrors in that house of yours!”
“Darrel.” You jumped to sit on the counter, meeting his eyes seriously, “You have to know what ya look like.”
“What exactly do I look like?” Darry leaned in; he could smell your floral perfume, and if he leaned in just a little more, he could press his mouth against yours. His head was reeling. You were so close. It’d be so easy to press you up against that counter. He was starting to think that damn shirt was the only thing that kept him under control. And dear God, did he need to find it. Why did he think it would be a good idea to come over without one? What was he thinking?
Your eyes flicked down to his chest, a flush spreading across your face as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Oh! Yeah, that’s why.
You avoided his gaze, “Like a damn Greek god, Curtis. I know it can’t be the first time someone told ya that, baby.”
“Only time it’s mattered.”
“I.. um… because you’re…” he hesitated, not sure how much to reveal.
“Sorry, that was stupid to ask. Don’t answer that.”
You began to move on the counter, embarrassed. You stood up to reach a container you needed, but between your haste and frenzy, you lost your footing. You collided with Darry’s solid body as he reached out to catch you, tucking you against him. Your hands gripped his shoulder like a lifeline, and you looked up at him wide-eyed.
Darry stared at you hard. He wondered if you could feel his heart beating rapidly against his ribs, trying to escape and fall right into your delicate hands. He could feel your fingers ever so slightly brushing up against the hair at the base of his neck. He met your eyes, and without his consent, he felt his gaze flick to your lips, almost out of instinct. And he swore he saw you look at his lips too. God, how was he going to come back from this?
You smiled at him nervously, “Great catch.”
He chuckled, a real, genuine chuckle, lowering you to your feet. “You really oughta be more careful, honey. I ain’t always gonna be here to catch ya.”
“I know.” The look in your eyes absolutely wrecked him. How did you not know what you did to him?
Cathy’s words echoed in his head again: Don’t wait too long to show her.
He reached out to tuck a piece of hair out of your face, his fingers brushing along your jaw as he did so, “What I was trying to say was… it matters cause it’s you.”
a.n. dally being soft for johnny and pony is so important to me, you don’t understand!!!
