Chapter Text
It’d been a few months since the church fire, and Ponyboy seemed to be much more upbeat than he’d been before. Johnny assumed it was because they’d escaped the church safely, but he guessed it also could’ve been something else he just didn’t know about.
The outcome of the church fire really had been a blessing. In the end, both Johnny and Pony came out pretty much unharmed. Johnny still had a small limp from when one of the pieces of burning wood had fallen on and messed up his leg when he was trying to get out of the window, and the both of them still wheezed a bit when they breathed from the amount of smoke they’d inhaled, but at least neither of them were dead or seriously injured or anything.
In reality, Ponyboy was so upbeat because he was just so glad that Johnny was okay- no, not just glad, he was ecstatic. He didn’t know what he would do with himself in the instance that Johnny hadn’t been alright. Hell, none of the gang would know what they would do with themselves. But still, Pony cared so much about Johnny that even the fact that he’d gotten even the slightest bit hurt all because of Pony’s recklessness made him feel incredibly guilty. He couldn’t allow Johnny to find out about that though.
Thankfully, Dally had managed to convince everybody that neither Johnny nor Ponyboy needed an ambulance to commute them to the hospital and instead lied, saying that he could drive them himself. Of course, he hadn't taken them, as he didn't want to risk them getting caught over a mild injury or two, and instead he found a new place in Windrixville for them to hide from the fuzz.
So now, they sat in an old, rickety cabin (if you could even call it that, it was so small) in a forest that was deafeningly quiet. Ponyboy lay, watching as water dripped through the millions of cracks and holes in the corroded wood above them, and Johnny watched him. He found it odd how Ponyboy was able to do that and not seem bored in the slightest, but he guessed you had to make do with what you had. He still wished they had their copy of Gone with the Wind though. He had enjoyed the days in the church when Pony had read to him, but he pretty much enjoyed any time that Pony spoke at or to him.
Pony’s eyes darted over to Johnny, and he grinned as he caught him watching him. Johnny felt his cheeks go hot and could only smile awkwardly back in response. Pony stood, and Johnny noticed the faint redness that had flushed over his face as well. He wondered if he could be falling ill.
“Are you sick, Pony?” Johnny asked, his concern for his friend growing a bit. He was already worried about how Ponyboy had been breathing recently. His breaths were unsteady; Johnny could feel it as they—or Ponyboy, as Johnny hadn’t been sleeping all that well after the fire—slept. He wondered if they needed to just turn themselves in so that Pony could go see a doctor and not have to worry about getting caught.
Ponyboy strolled over to Johnny and threw his arm around his shoulders, shaking him a tid.
“Nah, Johnnycakes, why d’ya ask?”
“Your cheeks are red. I was just wondering if you have a fever or such. I guess it’s just a sunburn then? Or a reaction from the smoke from the fire?” Johnny replied, and Ponyboy’s cheeks grew even redder in embarrassment.
“Yeah, guess so… hey, the sun’s settin’, right? Let’s go watch it.”
Ponyboy gripped Johnny’s hand and practically dragged him outside. Johnny could feel his stomach fill with butterflies at that, and even when they stopped and Ponyboy gazed at the sunset, Johnny’s focus remained on the feeling of Pony’s hand in his. Johnny tried to look like he cared about the sunset—which of course he did!---but he couldn’t help but feel more captivated by the way Ponyboy looked right then than whatever colours were in the sky.
Ponyboy looked over at Johnny, with one of the biggest grins he’d ever seen on his face.
“Ain’t it real pretty, Johnny?” Pony asked, and Johnny nodded in response. Ponyboy sighed contentedly and turned back towards the cabin, waiting to make sure Johnny was going to follow him before walking back inside.
Once inside, Ponyboy sat and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He lit one and puffed it a few times before holding the pack out and offering one to Johnny, who had since laid down in their sleeping spot.
“Sure, Pone. Thanks.” He said before taking one, and Ponyboy lit it for him.
They sat there smoking in silence for a few minutes. Ponyboy was normally perfectly fine with silence, but it was really getting on his nerves for some reason. He assumed he was just tired. A lot got on his nerves when he was tired. In fact, pretty much everything did—other than Johnny of course. Johnny had only gotten on his nerves maybe three or so times in their entire friendship.
Johnny must’ve noticed the annoyance radiating off of Ponyboy because he put out his weed on the floor and scooched to where he was sitting beside him. He elbowed him lightly in the ribs.
“What’s up, Pony?”
“Nothin’ Johnnycakes, I’ma just go to sleep.”
“...Okay…” Johnny was a tid confused, as it was still pretty early in the night, but he still lay down with Pony.
They settled down quickly, and Ponyboy fell asleep basically right after he got comfortable. It was kind of surprising how he could even do that with the way he was laying. Johnny, on the other hand, lay there just listening to Pony’s wheezing breaths. Comparing them to his own, they sounded pretty much the same, but Johnny felt the way Ponyboy’s lungs rattled at every inhale, and he knew damn well his own weren’t doing that.
Johnny flipped over onto his side and wrapped his arms around Ponyboy, straining to keep the both of them warm. Well, that obviously wasn’t the only reason, but it was the only reason he was willing to accept.