~Cicada~ Johnny Cade x male reader

We Meet Again...

          TW: ME HAVING A MAIN CHARACTER MOMENT AND MAKING (Y/N) LACTOSE INTOLERANT JUST LIKE I AM, VIOLENCE

          "Yeah! Give me just a second," Johnny says, reaching for his shoes that he took off sometime during the conversations we had earlier. Ponyboy then yells, "Can I come too!?" We both look at Sodapop. "I don't mind kiddo, just get back before Darry gets here. I won't tell 'im," Sodapop says with a sly grin on his face. Pony also grabs his shoes and I start heading out. Soon enough, the boys are following right behind me, then catch up to right beside me. "So, what's your house like?" Johnny asks. "Well," I began, "it's got a nice size kitchen, two bedrooms, a small living area, and a bathroom I can only compare to a closet. It's pretty homey, once you get past the.... exterior looks...heh heh..."

          Johnny hums. He looks up at the sky. Pony looks at him in confusion. "What're you doing, Johnnycake?" Johnny smiled a little. "Counting the stars. You should try it sometime, Pony. With all that talk about sunsets, this'd be right up your alley." I look over at Pony and see he's now looking up as well. "hm... you're right. It's real nice."

          Finally, we skid to a halt in front of my house. Just by looking at their faces, I can tell they're....underwhelmed. "I promise it's nicer inside," I mention bashfully. Johnny pales. "It's not like we think it's bad lookin' or anything, it's just-"

"Wait, I thought that's exactly what we thought?" Pony interjected.

           Johnny elbowed him in the ribs. I laugh at their interaction. "Seriously, I understand. I focused more on interior renovations than exterior. I'll get to that next summer," I laugh out. I then pull the key out of my pocket and open the door, bowing. "Ladies first," I say, looking up at them playfully. Pony scoffs and Johnny rolls his eyes, but they both enter. I strut in behind them and notice the look on Johnny's face. "Wow, you really weren't kidding when ya said the inside was nice," he said, eyeing the plush purple velvet sofa. "I take what I can get from the junk lot and fix it up," I said, shrugging.

          Johnny looks at me, as if asking permission before sitting. I nod and he takes a seat on the sofa, Pony following suit. "Want anything?" I ask, heading to the kitchen. "Well I don't wanna be a burden or anyth-"

"Shut yer trap, Cicada. You ain't a burden on nobody."

         Pony looks at me strangely. "When did 'Cicada' become a thing?" Johnny's face tinted a pale shade of pink. "It just fits," I tell him. I bring them both a glass of milk, and I grabbed a coffee. It's a bit late, but I have a full shift tomorrow so I have to be up and awake early anyways. I'd have had a glass of milk with 'em if it weren't for the fact that I'm lactose intolerant. "So, Cicada," I say, grabbing Johnny's attention, "Where'd you get that denim jacket?" He looks down at it. "Had it forever," he says. "Why?" I smile. "It looks real tuff."

          If there's one thing I know about Johnny this far, it's that he doesn't really smile unless Dallas is around. When he shows happiness, he's got this little hint of an upturn at the corners of his lips. That's exactly what he did when I complimented his jacket. I wonder what this boy has done for the world to beat him down so harshly. Maybe there's nothing more to it than being dealt a bad hand at life.

         After Pony finished his glass of milk, he said he had to leave. Something about Darry being pissed if he gets there before Pony does. I offer to walk him home, to which he declines. I'm worried about him going alone, though. Not that I think he can't handle himself, but when it comes to four armed socs vs one unprepared greaser, well... let's just say it wouldn't look good for that unfortunate greaser. I convince Johnny to follow me in following him. It didn't take much, it seems he was also worried about it. Johnny seems caring that way. He don't want his friends to get hurt the way he did. He told me while we were in my living room about being attacked by the socs, so badly he could barely breathe. Now he gets paralyzed by fear every time he sees a blue mustang.

          We follow Pony, and surprisingly, he doesn't notice us. I'm not sure how. When I walk even a few steps, it sounds like a stampede is herding through. I never really learned how to control how much force I put into my steps. About three-quarters of the way to the Curtis house, I hear a sound in one of the alleyways. Pony and Johnny seem to hear it too, because they both stop and look that direction.

"Well, well, well!" A voice says from the shadows.

"Looks like we caught ourselves a 'lil greaser."

         Outstepping from the shadows we're two of the guys from the brawl earlier. The two I fought.

"Listen, greaser boy, we wanna know where yer other little friend is. We won't hurt ya too much if you tell us where he is."

"Who? Johnny?"

         "No, stupid grease! The one about this tall with (H/C) hair," the lanky blonde one says, gesturing my height. My blood runs cold. Johnny seems to notice this as he places a hand on my shoulder. The two soc knuckleheads start inching closer to Pony.

'Move, dammit! They're gonna hurt 'im!'

         After enough urging, I get myself out of the paralysis-like frozen state and take out my blade, running towards the scene. "Hey!" I hear Johnny's voice behind me, "yer not gonna win on yer own! Think up a plan first!" It's too late for that, though. They've already seen me.

"Well there he is."

"Pony, get over here. You ain't gonna do me no good if you're cornered by these idiots."

Pony runs over to me.

"Ey, who d'you think yer calling idiots!? I'll beat the living hell outta you, scum!" The bigger soc yells. "It's still two-on-two and we're bigger than you anyways!"

"Actually," I say, "two-on-three."

         Johnny comes creeping up from our little stalking spot. He's got his hands in his pockets. He's walking quite casually despite the situation. He's trying to present tough. I refocus my attention on the bigger soc, now charging at me.

If they want a fight, a fight they'll get.