First attempt at Dally as a bisexual character. Oneshot! The (tiny and rather stupid) poem is written by me. Yes, I made Darry gay. Let's just see how this goes...
This can't be it-
he's just a friend!
But we're hand-in-hand
'till hell brings an end...
If one person was to understand, it might be Darry. At least, that's what I hoped.
I bit my lip real hard as I walked up the steps to the Curtis house. I didn't know why I was so nervous. It's not like Darry would discriminate or anything. Or would he? Dammit, Dallas, don't turn into a worrywart like fuckin' Ponyboy! I told myself. Just go talk to Darry, for God's sake! Determined, jaw clenched, cigarette sticking out of my mouth, I knocked on the door.
"Lookie here, everyone!" Two-Bit's voice hollered. "Someone just had the guts to actually knock on the door! Better see what policeman it is this time."
"Shut up, Two-Bit!" said Darry's voice. "What if really is the fuzz?"
"Then they're having a helluva laugh out here," Two-Bit's voice said, getting closer to the door. The wood door swung open for me. "Sweet Jesus! It's only Dally!" he said with a wide grin at me. I smiled back around my cancer stick. "How's my favorite jockey doin' today?" he asked, patting me on the head playfully, so hard my knees nearly buckled.
"Came ta see Darry," I said, blowing a smoke ring. I tried to act like I wasn't nervous at all, but Two-Bit noticed.
"What's wrong with you today?" he asked. "No 'quit fuckin' with me and give me the liquor'? No 'you dirty little bastard, Two-Bit, you can just wrap that open mouth around a dick'?" That last statement hit me like a punch in the stomach.
"Hangover," I said. That was true at least, I'd been at Buck's last night, and got pretty crocked. "Now get outta my way." I shoved past him and into the house. Steve and Soda were out watching the rodeos, according to Darry. Ponyboy was watching the sunset. Why the hell would someone want to watch a sunset anyway? It was just a bunch of colors. It happened every night. What was the big deal?
Fortunately- or maybe unfortunately- Johnnycake was at his folks' house. Fortunately because I now could talk with Darry more privately, but unfortunately because he was probably getting his ass beat by his drunk old man.
"Hey, Darry," I said awkwardly. "Gotta talk ta ya." I jammed my hands in my pockets.
"Technically, you're talking to me, already," he said. I hated technical people. All right, I was talking to him, but couldn't he see I wanted to talk where no one else could hear?
"In private, like," I said.
"Ooh! I think Dally's havin' some girl trouble!" Two-Bit whooped.
"Ya just jealous 'cause ya can't get none," I said, glaring at him. He smiled lopsidedly, not denying what I said.
"Stop picking on the kid, Two-Bit," Darry said. "All right, come with me, Dally." Darry got up off the chair he was sitting in and dumped the plate he was eating off into the sink.
"What kid? I ain't seein' Ponyboy," I snapped.
"Well, not including him, you're the youngest in here," Two-Bit said. "Plus, I think we just feel like calling someone 'kid'." He took a swig of beer. "Now, go talk about puberty or whatever." I spat at him, and he burst into laughter.
Me and Darry walked into his room. "Okay, Dallas, what is it?" he asked, closing the door. I was looking around his room. It was so fucking clean. Tidy, in that infuriating way that makes you want to jack off on the bed, just to mess up to covers.
I quickly remembered the reason I was talking to him. Shit, maybe I should've lied and actually made up some elaborate girl-trouble situation. But no, I'm just too blasted dumb.
"Well, uh, Darry," I said, nervously cracking my knuckles. "I'm kinda havin' a problem." Jesus Christ. My face was already burning and I hadn't even said the real problem yet! "An' I was figurin', I better talk to you, 'cause, ya know, you're... well, queer." I tried to read the emotions on his face, but Darry wasn't taking offense at me not just politely saying 'homosexual'. That was good at least.
"What is it?" Darry asked again. My face felt like it was probably as red as a fire truck. Shit, shit, shit! I fought the urge to duck my head.
"I kinda... uh... ithinki'mgettinfeelinsforaguy," I said all in a rush. I quickly reached down and made sure my shoes were tied, just to give me something to do other than stare uncomfortably at Darry.
"Say that again, Dal?" he said. "I couldn't hear you." I look up. Was he serious? Yeah, he was serious. Fuck, this was worse than him yelling at me or telling everyone! I had to repeat it?
"I think..." I said slowly. "I think I'm gettin' feelins' for a guy." My neck and ears felt hot now too. Great.
The worst part was, Darry didn't looked shocked or anything. He just nodded and said, "Who?"
"Who?" I repeated. He nodded. I let out a sigh of relief. He hadn't noticed, he hadn't guessed. Thank the fuckin' Lord. "Uh... Johnnyca- I mean, Johnny Cade." Was me using the pet name we all used for Johnny gay now? It sounded kind of gay.
Suddenly, I felt myself overwhelmed with doubt and mortification. "I mean, never mind! Nah, I don't like no guys. Not Johnnycake. I ain't a f-" I started, but Darry gave me a death glare. I remembered who I was about to say 'faggot' to and shut my mouth real fast. "I ain't a fucking gay person," I said feebly.
"Dallas," Darry said. My name was accompanied by a sigh. "Why can't you just tell him?"
"'Cause I can't," I said. Great, Dal, standard five-year-old response, I groaned inside my head.
"You're embarrassed," Darry predicted. "You aren't sure how to feel." I felt kind of amazed then, because I kept labeling Sodapop as the understanding one. Maybe Darry's got a nice bone in his body after all.
"Nah, it's worse than that," I said. "He's the only guy I like. And I feel like I'm goin' ta hell!" That caught Darry's attention.
"Dally, you're not going to hell," he said. "It's okay. You're bi. I'm not gonna tell anyone." I think I lost it a bit then, because I said,
"I ain't! I can't be! I mean, I ain't bi at all!" I protested. "I don't walk 'round eyein' up girls an' guys! It's just one person..." Sure as hell I wasn't going to tell Darry about that one time when Johnnycake was showering at the Curtis house and I got a hard-on. Sure as hell I wasn't about to tell Darry about how I'm getting sick of having sex with girls.
"Get a grip," Darry said, but he didn't sound angry. "I'm not telling. And I'm not laughing at you."
"Yeah, not on the outside," I said, glaring at Darry's perfectly made bed. "In ya head, you're laughin' up a storm." I was acting like an insecure little bitch, I admitted to myself.
"Want me to be perfectly honest, Dally?" asked Darry. "Would that help?"
"Yeah," I said. I reached into my pocket and flicked open my switchblade. I flicked it back and forth a few times, just to release some tension.
"I have to admit, I wasn't excepting you to say that at all," Darry told me. Well, that was good at least. He hadn't seen me staring at Johnny. "When you told me, I was pretty shocked. But if it would be anyone for you, it'd be Johnny."
"Huh?" I asked. My stupid uneducated mind couldn't really understand his last statement.
"If you liked a guy, it would be Johnny," Darry said.
"How ya know?" I asked him, still flicking the switch.
"Because you two are really close," he said simply.
That didn't stop me from being pissed off at the world. To my ultimate horror, I kept getting angry around Johnnycake.
"Hi, Dally," he'd say, walking into the Curtis house after a night of being beat by his folks. I tried to make it look like I wasn't staring at him, by shifting my eyes around to look at other things.
"Hey, kid," I said. I meant to just sound tough, but my voice came out all angry.
"What's the matter, Dal?" he asked, clueless. Dammit, why was I looking at the way his hair like it needed to have someone run their fingers through it? Someone meaning me, of course.
"Nothin'." I tried to make it sound less mean, but it came out like a snarl.
"I'll give you some time alone, then," he'd say nervously.
And of course there was that one time when we were all playing football and Johnny's tattered pants ripped. He was bright red and everyone was laughing at him. I just averted my eyes and tried with all my might not to get turned on. I saw Darry looking at me curiously, and I glared at him. He knew why the hell I was thinking of all the disgusting and unattractive things in the world- I really didn't want to get a hard-on in front of Johnny.
When he showed up on Buck's porch, scared stiff and shivering, I knew everything was about to change- and for the worse.
I screamed at the sky, cursing God and every other deity that might be listening. I hammered my fists against the window of the store, not even caring when I busted the glass and the splinters lodged into my hand.
"WHY'D YA HAVE TO KILL HIM?" I yelled, slumping against the broken window. "WHY? FUCKIN' WHY?" I buried my head in my bleeding hands.
The door of the shop opened. "Hey, kid, that's a couple hundred dollars in damage you owe!" the manager of the store said. "Get in here, I'm calling the cops. Damn hoods." I jumped to my feet and pulled my heater out the waistband of my pants.
"It's you who owes me," I snarled. "Gimme all the money in this fuckin' dump and ya get ta keep ya head where it's supposed ta be." The manager's knees trembled as he grabbed the cash register.
"That's all I have, I swear," he breathed, shaking at the sight of my heater pointed at his temple.
I appraised the cash register. It didn't have much in it. Instead of running off with it, I smashed it over the man's head. He passed out cold on the sidewalk.
And I ran down the street, still swearing at whoever decided my Johnnycake was better off dead than alive.
I called Darry, but I barely knew what I was saying. I think I swore a lot. Darry sounded startled when he heard me. "Dallas, listen to me," he said quietly into the phone. "Don't do anything crazy."
"I did it already," I said. "Come and find me at the lot." I hung up before he could answer and sped down the street, hearing police cars. Shit, shit, shit! I ran faster, nearly tripping over my own feet in my hurry to get to the lot.
I never got to tell him how I feel about him! I cursed myself. And now I never will! My Johnnycake. Johnny, with his jean jacket and shy little smile. Johnny, with his kind heart.
In that second, with the fuzz pouring out of their cars like bees coming from a hive, with the weight of Johnny's death on my shoulders, I made a decision.
My arm moved automatically upward. I held my heater out and pointed it at the fuzz. "This is what I get for just tryna help him!" I yelled into the night air. And they fired.
One bullet sent me sprawling backward. I tried to get up and ended up being thrown to the side. I let out a wordless scream of pain, but the pain was already fading. I was going to be okay now, I was going to be dead. Maybe I was going to hell. Did all bi people go to hell? Was Johnny going to be in hell, too, for killing Bob?
The gang ran toward me as I struggled to breathe. Another face overlapped all of theirs, and my head swam. "Johnnycake," I said.
"C'mon Dal, you're not dying on us," Sodapop pleaded.
"I love you, Johnnycake," I whispered hoarsely.
The last thing I saw while I was living was the shocked looks on my friends' faces.