sodapop curtis was entirely aware he was attractive. hell, he practically pranced around the dx, slinging his jeans low on his hips and stretching so his shirt rode up-- showing off. steve called him a prick for it, but he just grinned and called him jealous.

what?! he wasn't wrong!

anyways. where were we? oh, yes. sodapop was a complete whore. except for, not really? he never actually used his looks. he never went home with anyone. he had more to worry about than a pretty broad with her hair all done up.

he'd flirt- sometimes it got him a nice tip- but nothing'd ever happened because of it. he'd been practically engaged to sandy before...well, before it all went to shit- and he just hadn't found it in himself to find anyone else this past year.

anyhow, that was changing now.

he'd known you for a while. you weren't exactly close buddies- you weren't a member of the gang, but he'd always sprint his hardest up to you whenever he saw you anywhere. it was childlike up until he started speaking to you- lord almighty, the man could talk dirty.

anyways, it was no different today.

you were lounging in some field- maybe getting away from the chaos of your friends, or getting away from the loneliness of not having them, or all manner of things that soda didn't know about you- and he happened to be strolling by with his brothers- well, johnnycake (who is doing exceptionally good, may the omniscient author add, and has had no instances with fire whatsoever) and pony, at least.

he promptly departed from them the second he saw you, godbless his eyesight, nearly tripping over his own feet in the rush.

no, he wasn't desperate. who said that?

"fancy seein' you here," he grinned, flopping down beside you and supporting himself on his elbows. johnny and ponyboy glanced at each other and then gave up on seeing sodapop for the next hour and a half at least.

maybe he was desperate.