Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

      “Yeah I still got it. I use it to clean my toilet about twice a week.”

     It was those stupid words from Darrel that really set Paul off. Before even a second could pass, his fist was connecting with the other boys face.

     Darrel backed up before throwing his own fist at Pauls face. The rumble started from there. It was raining, and everyone around them was fighting and yelling. The only difference between the other guys and Paul was that he was fighting the man he still had feelings for. The man who used to hold him so gently, whispering ‘I love you’s’ and more sweet words. Paul did his best not to think about that. Because he was still beating the shit out of said man.

     Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe Darrel took pleasure in seeing Pauls busted up face. But Paul swore he saw Darrys cheeks rise up into a grin, dimples and all.

     Thats what made Paul give up. At this point, he was giving up. He was trying to block the greaser boys punches but he was on the floor, dirt soaking his hair. He yelled something about running away and the Socs didn’t even think before running off. Darrel stood up and wiped his mouth. Paul was gone before he could do anything else.

     Every Soc was gone, no one needed a ride. It was just Paul in his car. He shook his head and leaned forward, letting it rest easily on the steering wheel. He cried. He couldn’t do anything else. He couldn’t stand this. He was engaged, he was marrying some girl from Canada that his parents liked a whole lot. Honestly, Paul could barely remember her name most of the time. How was he supposed to have kids with this absolute random girl?

     He dreaded going back to his apartment. Having to sit in the dark all alone just contemplating the events of the night. It would be the first time in a while he wasn’t out drinking on a Friday. Or hanging out with any of his friends. It didn’t feel the same hanging out with them. There was no Darry, but Paul had gotten used to that. But now, there was no Bob either.

     Bob was killed by those greasers. The anger he felt about that was real. It was the rage that was fake. He didn’t know what to do without Bob. That was his best friend, even if he was a douche sometimes.

     While most soc boys threw around words, not being afraid to call someone a fag when they were pissed off, Bob was different. He was a watcher. He drunk, and the alcohol made him see more. Paul can remember one night at a party, where his energy was low, so he stood back with Bob and talked. Bob talked about everything from the greasers to the socs to the fuzz… he noticed everything. Darry greasing his hair less, Chet Bakers crush on Cherry, everything. Paul new that Bob recognized that he and Darrel were a thing. He never judged him, or said anything. But Paul could tell he knew. Bob was a watcher, so when he confronted a greaser he new there weakness. Ponyboy had a lot of red spots near his head, Bob saw that as a weakness and knocked him out that night when Pony sneaked to the West Side to see that new Paul Newman movie.

     When Cherry said that she saw a different side of Bob, Paul knew what she was talking about. He knew exactly what she was talking about. Even when high, drunk or coked up, he knew exactly what was going on. He’d seen Paul put his head in his hands and fake a laugh when he was really crying. He could see it all. Even if he was a fucking dick.

     If Bob was fighting in the rumble, they would probably talk and laugh about any of the guys falling or missing a punch. They would probably smoke. And Paul would probably cry. And Bob would let him, then tease him about it privately the next morning.

     But Bob started the rumble. He did, even if it was Paul that put it into words. And he was dead. And Paul didn’t need the world to see how much that affected him. So he fixed his posture and drove.

     He didn’t go straight to his house, he drove around the block a few times before he saw a pretty beat up kid.

     It was Ponyboy.

     Paul was tempted to drive away and just go home. But since he loved Darrel, he saw Ponyboy as a friend too. He pulled up next to him.

“Hey? Kid?” Paul spoke. He took in Ponys appearance. He didn’t notice before, but his hair was blonde now. Wow it did not suit him. His face was bruised and his nose was bleeding. His eyes were red and he was crying. Something told Paul that it wasn’t because of the rumble.

     “Ride. Ride, please.” Ponyboy said, his voice was cracked and his eyes were elsewhere.

     “Uh, sure kid.” Paul opened the door and Ponyboy went in. He was tapping his foot, his hands were shaking on his thighs.

     Paul was going to ask if he was okay but he was already speaking, “Dally. Dallas. He’s gone. I don’t know where he went. I don’t think he can take it.” Paul stared, “Take what?”

     Ponyboy shook his head, “He’s dead. He’s gone. It’s my fault. There both dead.”

     Paul didn’t have time to think. If he could do this, he might feel slightly better about himself. “Which direction did he go?” Ponyboy pointed and he drove.

     He saw a brown leather jacket through the door of a small deli, he was holding a gun up at the clerk. Fuck. He’s risking it, he didn’t care. Dallas took the money from the older guy and ran off, he fires gun shots. Paul ran.

     Paul grabbed Dallas’ arms as he heard him mutter “Whada fuk are ya doin’?” Pony was still in the front seat, and Dally was thrown in the back.

     Dally was shot. Paul could see. He couldn’t do anything now, he just drove in the only direction he knew. The Curtis house.

Chapter Text

     Paul was speeding through Tulsa and turned onto the block where Darrels house was. He didn’t trust Pony or Dally to form a coherent sentence at the time, or be able to even make it to the door. So he discarded his fear and helped Dally and Pony out.

     “The door. Not locked.” Pony stuttered out, “I know kid.” Paul said, helping Dallas stand up.

     Paul shifted his weight and opened the door. Darrel was on the couch, whatever he was doing didn’t matter. To Pauls own suprise, he cared more about the 17 year old bleeding out next to him.

     “He’s shot, help him.” was all Paul said before Darry was standing up, letting Dally lay back on the couch.

     “Why couldn’t you get him to the hospital?” Darry was speaking loud, but Paul was zoned out, staring.

     “We couldn’t go back.” Ponyboy spoke for him. It looked as if Darrel was only now realizing Pony was also in the room. “It’s Johnny.  He’s…” Pony was crying.

     Darrys eyes widened. He nodded, “Okay.” he said, he looked back down to Dallas on his couch, still bleeding.

     Paul took Pony to his room. He could tell Darrel didn’t know what to do. Who would?

     “Paul?” Ponyboy asked like he didn’t realize who was driving him before.

     “Your okay kid. Sleep.” Paul said, he didn’t need to say anything else. Ponyboy was already asleep.

     Paul came back to the living room. He was Dallas was still on the couch, his shirt was off and his side was bandaged. The bleeding had seemed to stop. He wasn’t dead. His chest was slowly rising and falling just like anybody elses would. Just like any other greaser.

     Darrel was sleeping too. He didn’t know how it had happened in such a short amount of time. Darrel was always a night owl. Maybe it was the rumble that wore him out.

     Darry didn’t look to hurt, his hair was ungreased and frizzy around the front. His eyes were baggy and dark circles surrounded them. His clothes were stained with mud even though he had changed clothes from before. His brows were permanently creased. And his chest was rising and falling faster than Dallys. It was the stupidest things that made Paul miss Darrel. The things he could pick apart so very easily. The things that he missed more than anything. If Darrel was awake, Paul might’ve kissed him.

     Paul didn’t like that thought. He turned and left.

     He decided that it was time to go back to his apartment. Driving around town over and over again wasn’t a good idea considering he was exhausted from almost everything.

     It was around 4AM at this point. But it felt like the whole world was staring at him. Picking at him. And placing rocks on his back. They kept getting bigger, larger, heavier. Until they collapsed. And he didn’t too.

                         ——

     He woke up from his alarm blaring. It was 10AM. His head was killing him and he could smell himself. He smelt like shit. He gagged and sat up. Running his hands through his dark brown almost black curls. He stood up and went to hims drawer, looking for something casual to wear all day.

     Thats when he got a call.

     He usually got a call around this time from Chet or Trip asking to hang out. He honestly didn’t want to go anywhere, but he didn’t want to be a prick and not answer.

“Hello?” He muttered into the phone.

“Hey Paul.”

Paul paused, his eyes widened, he stood up straight.

“Darrel?” He said. Unfortunately, his voice fucking cracked.

He swore he heard Darrel chuckle. “Just wanted to say thank you. For taking Pony and Dally home. It uh means a lot.”

“Oh uh.” Paul cleared his throat, “No problem. It’s not a problem.” He repeated.

“Uh. Yeah. Okay. Bye.”

“Wait.” Paul cut Darrel off before he could hang up, “You don’t have work today, do you?”

“No.”

“Want to go on a walk with me?” Paul Holden was a weak man.

He heard Darrel pause, “You want to be seen with me?”

Paul didn’t hesitate, “Yeah, sure. Fuck the other guys.” He could not believe what was coming out of his mouth.

“Oh. Wow. Sure.” Darrel said, “12?”

“Yeah. Bye.” He hung up.

     Paul was absolutely fucking panicking. He had no idea why he had done that, he did not want to go out, he did not feel motivated to do so. But Jesus Christ it was Darrel Shaynne Curtis Jr. Who wouldn’t want to be with that guy?

      Paul found some nice clothes. A blue flannel with a white shirt underneath. A pair of jeans and a black belt. He took a quick shower, did his hair, and was out of the house.

                      ______

     There was a trail that was walking distance between the East and West side, both Darrel and Paul knew that because they had walken it millions of time before.

     The last time they walked the trail together was the day before the big break up. So Paul viewed it as bad luck or something. But if it was really bad luck, why the hell did every fiber in his body bring him back here, back to Darrel Curtis, back to the East side? He stopped thinking because he was there, and Darrel was across from him. He walked forward.

     “Hey, Darry.” Paul said, he almost smiled.

      “Is there a reason you wanted me to come here?” Darrel asked before saying hi. Hiw gaurd was up.

     “What? No, no.” Paul shook his head, “No ulterior motive, I swear. Its just that yesterday you were sleeping before I could get a word out,” Paul swore he saw Darry blush “I wanted to see you face to face.”

     Darrel nodded, he stayed silent for a moment before he turned ahead and started walking. “Okay.” He said.

     Paul followed him down the trail.

     They didn’t talk at first. Paul looked up at the sunlight through the tall trees and let himself smile a bit. He liked to think that Bob made it up there. He was a kid, not evil.

     It wasn’t like Paul was religious or anything. Far from it, he just liked to believe that after you die you don’t just disappear, you just become one with nature, the sky, the clouds, the trees. Whatever. Paul was always more emotional than others.

     “What’re you thinkin ‘bout?” Darry asked, snapping Paul out of his thoughts. He didn’t know if he wanted to tell the truth. He did though, “Bob.” He didn’t elaborate.

     “Oh.” Darrel just said, like he couldn’t belief that Paul was affected by it. He said nothing else about it. “I’m sorry. About Johnny Cade I mean. I don’t hate him or anything. Hows Dallas?”

     “Dal’s fine. He went to the hospital this morning. They said it was a miracle he wasn’t dead.” Darrel recalled, Paul nodded, “I just wish I knew what happened, he wouldn’t tell me anything.”

    “Well, I found Pony just walking mindlessly down the block all beaten up. He said Dallas was gone and that he ran off left. I went down the road and I saw him holding a gun up to some store clerk. He took the guys money and ran. The clerk apparently had a gun of his own because he fired too.” Paul emptied it all out on Darrel, he saw no point in lying. It was his own family after all.

     Darrels eyes widened a bit. But he didn’t have that big of a reaction. He was always good at controlling his own emotions.

     “That gun was never loaded. He knew that fully well. I don’t get why he would even do that.”

     Paul tensed, a realization dawned on him, “I might have an idea.”

     Darrel blinked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

     “Dallas’ seems like a self destructive guy, at least from what I’ve seen of him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was purposely trying to get hurt. I get it.”

     Suddenly Darrel looked all concerned, “Whadya mean you get it?” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. He slipped up. Why did he have to add that?

     He was about to lie but he saw the look on Darrels face and decided against it. “Uh, like a day after Bob died I was exhausted. Physically and mentally. I went on a walk, by this trail actually and climbed a tree by here…maybe I thought of falling back once. Or twice. But, I uh didn’t. I didn’t risk it.” Paul kept talking, once started he couldn’t seem to stop, “Obviously I was shaken up that Bob was gone. But… so were you. I didn’t feel like I had much to live for.”

     Darrel was staring at him now. Paul probably sounded like a crazy person. “Aren’t you engaged?” Darrel asked and Paul stiffened. It wasn’t a secret, it probably sprear around.

     “Yeah.”

     “Don’t you have to stick around for her.”

     Paul shook his head, “It’s an arranged thing. Her families rich, richer than mine so they thought it would be cool if we were married.”

     “Ah, I see.” Was all Darry said. It was nice that he wasn’t judging him. “Whats her name?”

     Paul snorted, “It’s so stupid. Shes Canadian, and her name is Claire Maple.”

     Darry coughed and actually laughed. He laughed! At something Paul had said! For the first time in a while! Paul felt his cheeks turn red and a grin spread across his face.

     Please, God, don’t let me make the same mistake.

                      ———

     Soon talking on the phone became a normal thing for Paul and Darry. Maybe the occasional walk, or hang out.

     Paul would sometimes find himself at Darrels house. Ponyboy and Soda were confused at first. Why was this bitchy soc suddenly back at their house?

     Paul also noticed himself talking to his Soc friends less. Sure, he maybe hung around them for a few hours or went to one of the parties that were constantly thrown for no good reason. But he would be with Darrel majority of the time.

     Darry rarely came to Pauls apartment. Paul had told him that he moved around seven months ago, and Darrel had shown up uninvited and saw that boxes were still around and his clothes were scattered around the room. He was embarrassed of course, but Darry didn’t say anything about it.

     Eventually, Paul came to a realization. He wasn’t going to be able to be just friends with Darrel. And this fucking girl from Canada was taking too long.

     He broke off the engagement.

     His parents called a billion times, scolding him for being an idiot and ruining their chances at becoming any richer. Paul told them to fuck off, cried about it, then went into his car and drove to Darry’s.

     “Hi.” Paul said when Darry answered the door. It was raining and it was dark out, the atmosphere was similar to the rumble. It was hard to believe that was barely three months ago.

     “You look a mess.” Darry said, pulling him inside. “Yeah, well I had a shitty day.” Paul smirked.

     “Yeah? What happened?”

     “I called off the engagement.”

     “You did what?”

    Paul shrugged, “I wasn’t gonna do the whole loveless marriage thing. I was never into her that way. I’m queer.” Paul suprised himself at how forward he was being.

     “Right.” Darry nodded a bit shyly. Paul was never proud about this, so it made sense why Darrel was suprised.

     “Pony and Soda here?”

     “Nah, Pony and Soda are both at their friends house.”

     “Ah, I see.” Paul hummed, “Lets go to your room, yeah?”

     Darry nodded. The second they got in that room Paul was kissing him.

     Darrel paused for about a millisecond before kissing back. Running his hands through Pauls black curls.

     Time seemed to be moving faster at this point. Paul couldn’t remember how he even ended up on Darrys bed, still kissing him.

     “Wait.” Darry panted, staring at Paul with his pale blue-green eyes, “Talk, we need to talk.”

     “Right, yeah of course. Duh.” Paul blushed, putting his hands back to his sides. “I have questions.”

     “Shoot.”

     “Have you still liked me all this time?”

     “Yes?”

     “Is that why you retreated at the rumble?”

    “That too, but mainly because I was scared.”

     Darrel laughed, “Okay, final question. Kiss me again?”

     “Of course.”

     And he did just that.

Chapter Text

     Paul was finally unpacking.

     He suddenly got the motivation to do so. He put his clothes away in the drawers, sweaters in the closet, threw out stuff he didn’t need, and kept the stuff he did.

     Maybe he stopped midway to let a few tears fall, but that was it.

——

     “Paul, do you ever think about telling other people?”

     Darry's hands ran through his curls. It was autumn, trees were changing colors, and the sunsets were extra pretty around this time. “Well, yeah.” Paul said in response. He had gotten braver since that kiss last year.

     “Really?” He felt Darry tense a bit; he didn’t point it out.

     “Of course. I’m not ashamed of you, not anymore. Those Soc boys aren’t going to stop me.” Paul tried to reassure Darry.

     “I dunno. It’s harder for me, being’ a greaser, you know?”

     Paul blinked. “No, I don’t know. Explain?”

     “We don’t have a lot of money to keep unless it spreads around. I could get fired from both my jobs instantly.” Darry said, “I really hate Tulsa.”

     Paul looked up at Darry from an upside-down angle. “Live with me then.”

     Darrel's eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

     “I only lived in that tiny apartment while waiting for Claire. Since she found someone else, that’s not a problem anymore. I could afford a bigger house. Me, you, Pony, and Soda?” Paul actually sounded somewhat hopeful. “We’d have a room together. Pony and Soda share, right? If they want their own rooms, I could manage it. You can leave it all to me!”

     Darrel stared; he frowned a bit but said, “I’ll think about it.” And that was a good enough answer for Paul.

____

     Two hours later, Paul still wasn’t finished with his apartment. He was getting ticked off now. He needed to get out of this stupid place.

     He ran down the stairs of the apartment building. He didn’t even take the car when he ran to the park.

     It was fall, November 15th, 1966. Paul's birthday was tomorrow.

____

     “I love coming up here, especially during sunset.” Paul spun at the top of his apartment building. During other seasons it’s windy, maybe snowy, or too hot. But Fall was perfect.

     “Are we allowed up here?” Darry asked with a small chuckle.

     “I don’t know; I never asked. Come sit next to me.”

     Paul was sitting with his legs crossed, looking at the sky. A new trait Paul was picking up was photography. He had gotten himself a Canon Pellix the year before and loved taking pictures of anything he saw. The sunset was one of the things he loved.

     Darrel sat next to Paul with a hum, “Can I see the picture?” He asked. Paul grinned and handed him the camera. The sky was orange and pink, the sun shone, highlighting the dark trees and the falling leaves.

     “You’re great at this.” Darry complimented, and Paul blushed, “Don’t flatter me, Curtis.”

     “Nah, I’m serious. You’ve got talent.” Darry continued. Paul leaned on his shoulder. “You’re too nice for me.”

____

     Paul brought his camera to the park, he took pictures of almost everything. Trees, the ground, the grass, the dirt, the sky. It was 5:00, the sunset was in 15 minutes.

     Paul walked more until he found a tree. One that he recognized. He climbed.

     He clung to a sturdy branch.

____

     Darrel strummed a few chords.

     “I didn’t know you played guitar.”

     “I did lessons when I was young and got a guitar too, but I kind of forgot about it. I think I could still play something. Maybe… A Taste of Honey by the Beatles?”

     “Ok, do it.”

     Darry blushed; he strummed a few chords again. Paul did recognize the song.

     “I dream of your first kiss and then I feel upon my lips again.” Paul sang, and Darrel looked up at him; he kept going.

     “A taste of honey, tasting much sweeter than wine.”

     Paul and Darry sang together.

     “Oh, I will return. Yes, I will return.”

     “I’ll come back for the honey and you.”

     Paul grinned. “I really love you, Dar.”

     Darry continued with a bright smile, “I love you too.”

     “Yours was a kiss that awoke my heart,” Darry continued.

     “There lingers still, though we’re apart, the taste of honey.”

____

     Paul was standing on the branch now; he was surprised at how he could balance on it.

     Paul walked towards the head of it but stopped. He panicked. He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t. He took a few short steps back.

     He’s tried that once and failed. It was never going to work. Down the tree. You can’t go back. Run more.

    Keep running, like a coward.

____

     “Have you thought about it? Moving in with me?” Paul asked.

     “I, uh, don’t have an answer yet.” Darrel said. He was walking the trail with Paul again.

     Paul sighed, “You can just say that you don’t want to, you know? I wouldn’t be mad.”

     “Yes, you would.” Darry shook his head.

     “Is that really how you see me?” Paul seemed kind of hurt.

     Darry looked at Paul. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.” He said, “I have to think about moving a bit more. My whole life was in that house.”

     “Yeah, okay. Sorry.” Paul grabbed Darrel's hand. That was enough talking for one day.

____

     Paul stumbled into the nearby liquor store. He got two bottles of bourbon. He didn’t even have to show the guy his ID. He definitely looked older.

     He didn’t even wait until he was outside to crack open the bottle and start drinking. It stung his throat, but it didn’t even matter all that much.

     Now he could go back to his messy apartment.

____

     “What the fuck, Darry?” Paul said a bit too loud while walking into the run-down Curtis house.

     “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know you were serious—“

     “About getting a house? Yeah, I’m pretty serious about that. I can’t live in a shitty apartment anymore!” Paul ran his hands through his not-so-neat curls. “Do you not even care about finding a house for us? You wouldn’t have to work anymore; I could do everything! You could spend time with your brothers, or you could find a new hobby! O-or—“

     “I don’t need you to save me, Holden. I’ve been holding up just fine without you!” Darry shouted.

     “Well, I wasn’t!” Paul was crying. Why did he always have to cry? “Even though you may have been doing great, I fucking wasn’t!”

     Darry didn’t yell back.

     “I have been forced to live a certain way my whole goddamn life, and I feel like I finally have some sort of control over my life, and it seems we don’t want the same things!”

     “You control your own actions, Paul.” Darrel didn’t shout, he spoke sternly.

     “Do I?” Paul stepped forward. “I was born privileged, yes. That’s true, but my family only cared about remaining rich. Then, I fall in love with a boy, something that both of us could get killed for! Then, you leave me? Maybe I fucked it up the first time too, but Jesus Christ, I changed! I am not the same Paul Holden I was in ‘65. And now you’re back in my life, and I’m trying to do everything to keep it that way, but it seems as if you’re not even trying!” Paul raised his voice. He pointed his finger at Darrel’s chest. “I left Claire for you. She could’ve been a great thing for my family, the same family that doesn’t even talk to me anymore! I shut everyone out but kept what's really important, and my life got better. You're too afraid to do the same!”

     Darrel was silent. He stared at Paul.

     “So, you’re right. Fuck that house, fuck moving, and fuck our life together. Fuck everything I threw away to keep you with me, because you never even wanted it! And I was probably crazy for this too. Because I was finally ready, but I was too late.” Paul shoved past him and ran out of the house.

    “Wait, Paul—!” Darrel yelled but Paul was already out of the house and in his car, driving away.

     ——

     Paul stumbled into his apartment around 7:00PM.

    He had already downed the first bottle by the time he got there, so he was relatively drunk, but it took more time for him to be completely out of it.

     He threw out the empty bottle and wiped his face. He wasn’t going to drink anymore. He wasn’t forgetting the fight. He wasn’t forgetting anything. The bottles just sat on his dresser.

     The fight was 4 days ago, but it didn’t really hit him that it happened until now. Paul was so sure that it was going to work this time. But how could it work for them? They were so insanely different. One was a greaser and one was a soc. That was never going to change, even though Paul wished it would.

     Paul wished Bob was here. He hadn’t gotten over that, it was crazy how one person could make the pain disappear for a while. But it always came back when he was alone, and Paul Holden felt more alone than ever.

     If Bob was here, he would have stayed silently next to him. Listening. He would talk exactly when Paul wanted him to do so. He always just knew.

     He wished someone was here. Maybe Bev, Cherry or Marcia. Even the boys, but not as much.

     Alone.

     He felt so alone.

     Leaning back, letting go and jumping off that branch would’ve solved everything. Just for a moment up there, he almost pure again. Like every mistake he had made with his friends, his family, Claire, Darrel was washed away.

     Paul was crying. He was always crying. He cried so damn hard his head was hurting, pounding even.

     No. His head wasn’t the only thing pounding. There was someone knocking at his door.

     “Huh?” Paul sat up. “Who is it?” He yelled, his voice cracked.

     “Holden, it’s me.” He recognized the deep voice from the door. It was fucking Darrel.

     “Uh.” Paul coughed, “The doors open. Your free to come in.”

     Darry opened the door and stepped in. His nose scrunched from the smell of alcohol, but that experience changed when he saw Pauls weak posture and face.

     “Jesus Christ, Paul, I’m so sorry—“

     “You don’t have to apologize.” Paul offered a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “Maybe I was moving to fast.”

     Darrel shook his head, he sat next to him on the bed, “Absolutely not. You were doing great. Your doing your best. You did change. I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

     Paul looked at him, “You did change. You are different. In a way we kind of switched. You always moved faster than me. Now I seem to be lightyears ahead of you.”

     Darry frowned. “We’re at the same pace. I want to have a life together, I’m willing to risk it. I just felt like you were going to change your mind, even after anything.”

     Paul shook his head.

     “Yeah, I know that now.” Darrel sighed.

     They stayed silent for a while. The sound of crickets through the window filled the room.

     “I love you.” Paul said, he hugged his knees.

     “Yeah, I love you a whole lot too.” Darry put his arm around him.

     They didn’t know if that was enough. But it was going to have to work for now.