Fold (Dallypop)

⚠️Chapter Seventeen: Blonde Cuddlers

⚠️ Attention: This chapter contains the usage of the f- slur. Don't continue if you're uncomfortable with this.

(Dallas' POV)

I lay in the sterile hospital bed, my gaze fixed on the cracked ceiling. The aftermath of the church fire had left me battered and bruised, a stark contrast to my usual tough exterior. The room felt cold, the antiseptic smell overwhelming.

Soda entered, a mix of concern and relief on my face. "Hey, Dally, how you holdin' up?"

I smirked, "Just another day in paradise, Soda."

Soda pulled up a chair, trying to keep the atmosphere light. "You look like you tangled with a tornado, man."

I chuckled, "More like a raging inferno. You should've seen it."

Soda glanced around the room, avoiding eye contact. "Yeah, 'bout that... I'm sorry, Dallas. I wish we could've done something different."

I scoffed, "No point cryin' over spilled milk, Soda. We did what we had to do."

We fell into a casual conversation about random things, trying to ignore the tension in the air. However, Soda's eyes kept wandering back to me, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

I saw him eye my chest a couple times while we were talking. His cheeks were pink as well I couldn't help but chuckle, hopefully it was to myself.

"My eyes are up here Soda." I teased.

Soda went red and his head snapped up. He had wide eyes, knowing he was caught.

"I was just- you... I-" He stuttered, trying to come up with an excuse.

"What's eatin' at you, Soda?" I asked, smirking knowingly.

Soda's cheeks flushed more (surprisingly), "Nothing, just...thinking."

"About what?" I prodded, a sly grin playing on my lips.

Soda stammered, "Oh, you know, stuff. How you're doing, the gang, the usual."

I raised an eyebrow, "You're a terrible liar, Soda. Spill it."

Soda hesitated, then blurted out, "It's just, seeing you like this... it's tough. Makes me realize how much you mean to me."

I scoffed again, "Cut the crap, Soda. We've been over this. We can't be more than friends. It ain't right."

Soda sighed, frustration evident on his face. "I know, I know. But damn it, Dally, I can't help how I feel."

My expression softened, "We can't change the rules, kid. It's for the best."

Soda nodded, a mixture of disappointment and understanding in his eyes. "Yeah, you're right."

A brief silence lingered before Soda changed the subject, glancing at the bandages wrapped around my torso and my arm. "Those bandages look pretty snug. You hurt anywhere else?"

I smirked again, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "Well, there is one thing that might make 'em feel better."

Soda rolled his eyes, "Don't even think about it, Dallas," he said quietly, "besides, ain't ya Sir 'we cant be anything more than friends?'"

Soda was close. Close enough.

I leaned in, closing the gap between us. I kissed him. I KISSED HIM HOLY SHIT!!! Our kiss was a mix of longing and rebelliousness, a silent acknowledgment of the silent bond we shared. As Soda pulled away, I whispered, "sometimes, rules are meant to be broken."

Soda blushed but couldn't help but smile. "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

I grinned, "Yeah, but you love it."

Soda crossed his arms, not in an angry way, more in a sarcastic 'you're right but I won't admit it' way. I sat up in the hospital bed with the same grin on my face.

"C'mere." I said calmly, holding my arm out for Soda.

Soda walked over and when he got close enough I grabbed his waist with my arm and pulled him on the bed with me. We both sat there now. Soda felt cold... why was he always cold?

Soda squirmed so he laid down, pulling me down with him. He looked uncomfortable. Was I doing something wrong? Did he even like this?

"Hey... you okay?"

"Your arm hurts. It's weird." He replied quietly.

My arm was still around him, I tried to move it to make it feel better but it wasn't working. Soda still looked like it was in pain.

"Here, Dally." He spoke up.

Soda lifted himself and I pulled my arm out from under him. But he took my other arm and wrapped it around him so my hand rested on his back. His arms were around my neck.

"Better?" Soda asked calmly.

I nodded, "better."

So much better. I wanted to pull him right up to me, but I didn't know how Soda would react, or if he would like that... so I didn't. That was until Soda rested his head on by chest. His body moved with him, so he was pressed up against me like the time we slept in the same bed together.

I called him a fag then. Now he was just adorable, and I was a hypocrite.

"If the nurse comes in and sees us like this, you won't be able to visit me again." I said calmly, my voice muffled in Soda's hair (hair grease didn't taste too good).

I felt Soda shrug, "oh well, I'll go through the window," he laughed.

His laugh was cute, he had the laugh of a little girl. One who had just gotten kissed by her crush. That was Soda's laugh.

I felt myself doze off. Sleep overcoming me as I held Soda tighter. If I had it my way, I'd never let him go. Not again. I would never push him away again.