Something like Shakespeare

Tue, 29 May 2007 12:31:01 GMT

Act 1 Crafting a Juliet

Author: Me(Merrie)
Fandom : The Outsiders
Summary: West Side Story Outsiders style (with a slashy twist)
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, and I do not have any money to my name Should you wish to bring legal action against me. further more this was done as a labor of love and not for fincal gain.
content: there is slash content and will be more. and there will be at least one M/m spanking in later parts.

(please keep in mind this is a work in progress.)

Buck's annual Halloween party was creeping up. The gang, whom always attended, where assembled in the Curtis' living room trying to decide on costumes. All that is save Soda. He was in the kitchen doing laundry, one of the only things Darry had asked him to do. But because Sandy was leaving that week for Florida to visit her sick grandmother he'd been putting it off. So after several lectures and a few threats Soda started his chore. In the living room Pony had suggested many costumes, all of which were rejected for one reason or another by the majority of the group. The banter had been going on almost all morning, by mid afternoon they were still no closer to a theme. Soda in the kitchen had the radio almost blasting to avoid the temptation of joining the argument. An idea sparked for Pony when the Paul Reveres and the Raiders song ‘little red riding hood’ blared from the kitchen.
“How about the Big bad wolf.”
Johnny was immediately onboard, which was not a great conquest because Johnny had been on Pony’s side for all his ideas. It was Darry and Dally he had to convince, for if he did Steve would go along. Two-bit didn’t count because he was completely inebriated.
“How do you mean Ponyboy?” Darry asked in an unenthusiastic drawl.
“Dally can be the big bad wolf. Then me and Johnny and Two-bit can be the three little pigs-
“I wanna be the one made of sticks!” Two-bit injected.
“Made a house of sticks, anyway and then you can be the woods man and Steve can be grandma!” to that the room bursted into laughter, except for Steve. Steve decided to derail this train before it got to far.
“Who’ll be our red riding hood?”
“How ‘bout Evie?” Johnny ventured.
“She’s on the rag so there’ll be no parties she’ll want to go to for at least two weeks. especially ones where I’m grandma.” Steve countered.
“What about Sylvia Dally?” Pony offered, sending all eyes Dally’s way.
“I never want to see that broad again, little slut.” everyone took that as Dally and her had broken up again and no one pressed further.
“What about Soda?” Two-Bit blurted staring drunkenly into the kitchen, all eyes turned from Dally to Keith before Steve gave him a real evil look.
“Real smart Two-bit, Sandy’s going to be gone the next three weeks.”
“Not Sandy.” Two-bit declared, “Sodapop, put him in a dress and he’d make a better looking girl then Evie, Sylvia, and most the girls we know.” that entire time Two-bit’s gaze never wavered from the kitchen. Slowly all the other guys fallowed his stare to find Soda sitting on the kitchen floor, golden blond hair falling into his face, reading the label on a shirt, his thin yet pouty lips parted ever so slightly. He wanted to pretend the others weren’t gawking at him but his ears where getting redder by the minute, he had a crimson stain crossed his cheeks by the time he confronted them.
“What are you guys gawking at?”
Darry called him over and when his angular brother came in arms length the eldest Curtis linked his middle finger threw an unoccupied belt loop that was hanging at the boy’s hip. With this leverage Darry steered the lean body to his side, where he perched on the arm of the recliner Darry was seated in. From that vantage Soda had to look down at his older brother, something that rarely happened.
“I’m getting the laundry done.” nervousness wavered on the border of his voice and while he spoke his hand played absently with the rather large hole in the knee of some jeans that should have been thrown out months ago. Darry cracked a grin at Soda’s apprehension, proud that this brother of his showed a little responsibility.
“I’m sure you are,” Darry said taking the busy hand in his, “you going to Buck’s party?” with a shrug of his willowy shoulders and a flip of the hair he returned with a simple.
“Sure, why not?”
The exchange must have been a compelling one for no one interfered. Until Steve felt obligated to inform his best friend what the others had intended him to dress as.
“You’re joshing me?” a round of bemused eyes and half smirks served his answer. Answers to which the resident movie star laughed nervously and searched his elder brother’s face for any trace of joke. None was viable, and of anyone assembled Darry would give away any attempts at a prank.

        The early morning sun sparkled off the backyard pool and into the eyes of Robert where he sat lounging at its side. The weather did not permit swimming but it didn’t stop the dark haired boy from enjoying the waters company. From the study window Mr. Sheldon monitored his son guessing there was little else he could do to help his only child’s brooding. Randy Adderson, Robert’s closet friend, was in the study too. He sat silent and polite waiting for Mr. Sheldon to tell him why he was there. The long drawn out pause was murder for the young man, but because he respected his friend’s father he stayed. When Mr. Sheldon was satisfied that his son wasn’t going to jump into the freezing pool he broke the tense lingered silence.
“There’s something wrong. Bob, he barely speaks. He’s gone all day every day and won’t be bothered with telling us were he goes. And when he is here he spends his time by that pool. Reading or sometimes just staring into the water.”
“Do you know why?”
“He won’t speak civilly to me, not more then two words at a time anyway. I had hoped that you would have an idea of what plages my son.”
It didn’t surprise Randy in the least that Bob wouldn’t be capable of holding a conversation with his father, he didn’t respect the man. Not that Bob respected his mother, no Randy’s dear friend lost all esteem for his parents a long time ago.
“I’m at a loss as to what might be troubling him too sir, but I’ll find out.”
With Mr. Sheldon satisfied Randy went to his friend’s side to inquire the circumstances of his grief. He found Bob in a deck chair reading the play they where assigned in advanced lit.
“Morning stranger.” Randy offered taking a seat next the moping Bob.
“Is the day so young?” the dark boy responded lost in the Shakespearean language of Verona.
“I mean, it can’t be that early can it?” he double checked his watch, “Guess it can.”
“Sad hours seeming long?” Randy laughed, lightly mocking his buddy’s prior slip. Bob laughed along with him in good nature, knowing well had it been Randy that slipped he would have done that same thing.
“Why so moody Bob?” Bob took an excruciatingly long moment, looking to the words of Mr. Shakespeare to aid his vocalizing his pain.
“Sherri... she’s hell bent on saving herself for marriage now. Not two months ago she said she’d put out.” he leaned back in his chair opening a fresh pack of cigarettes and popped one in his mouth, “It’s over between us now, tried to cop a feel at the drive-in last night and she blew up. Called me a pig and told me she never wanted to see me again.” he finished his little story with a half hearted smile and gentle shake of the head.
“You still dig her?”
“Randy! She’s the most beautiful women that’ll walk this planet. With out her beauty ceases to be. The world becomes grey and dull.” Bob’s passion was admirable but Randy couldn’t help laughing, he made it sound like life started and ended with Sherri Cherry Valance.
“Robert my friend, you need to get laid.”Bob treated his friend to a look that spoke volumes of disbelief. Randy continued relating his plan taking one of Bob’s weeds while doing so.
“I have it on good authority that there’ll be a party Saturday on the eastside. Greasy girls are loose and some of them aren’t half bad looking. It’s a sure thing.” he shrugged then added as an after thought.
“And if we don’t get lucky we can always jump a party goer on his way home, take out some frustration.” It appealed to Bob, he liked fights, the chance of messing a kid up was always a mood lifter.

        Two-bit, with all his ingenuity still could not manage to apply eyeliner to his buddy without poking his eyeball out, or straying onto his eyebrows. So swallowing his pride he approached his twelve year old sister for help. Heather was more then happy to transform Soda into a women, she was ecstatic that Keith asked her to do it. One phone call and a half an hour later Pony and Steve joined the lot at the Mathews’ home lugging old dusty boxes with them. Like a starved dog Heather jumped on the boxes ravaging threw the contents til she found something to satisfy her hunger. Clutching a fist full material the twelve year old locked eyes with Soda and demanded, “You sew?”
“I’m really just a novice.”
Two blank stares and a look of wide eyed shock where pointed at the ‘novice’ sewer, while his younger brother nearly burst a gut laughing. Heather shook herself out of the dim witted amnesia she shared with her brother and asked again.
“Can you sew??”
“Yes.”
With this knowledge Heather leaped into explaining what Soda was to do. And he nodded patently, parent like even. As she babbled on about lengths and things of that sort Soda inspected the dresses she wanted to butcher. When she had finished her instructions Heather propelled herself off the couch and vanished up a flight of stairs returning with the speed befitting a young girl with a goal, clutching a sinister looking pair of scissors. While The twelve year old psycho dove into dismembering a black dress. Soda held the other dress sentenced to mutation at the hands of Miss Mathews up. Standing behind it, a perfect fit, and smiled a wicked smile at his younger brother.
“Isn’t this one of mom’s church dresses?”
Indeed the slightly aged but still pristine white dress was one of their mother’s, one she wore to Sunday mass. The black one Heather was ripping apart was giving to their mother by her mother-in-law, she only wore it once every few months when their grandparents on their dad’s side would come to dinner.
    While Heather held Soda hostage in her room the rest of the gang, Dally not included, started a grand debate over an appropriate breast size for the little red riding hood to be. Two-bit’s voice was the loudest.
“Double D. Bigger the better!”
Steve made an ugly face, “That’s exactly what’s wrong with the girls we know. Breast bigger then their heads!”
In the end it was Heather who had the last say, and even she had limits to what she could do, double Ds were not in her grasp. Pony, ears red to the tip, tried not to hear his brother and friends objectify his beloved Sodapop.
“Guys don’t talk about Soda like that!” Pony requested in all his embarrassment. Of course after speaking his concerns Two-bit and Steve went about teasing him, and that went on for a good ten minutes solid. Just as Darry was about to step in and stop them Heather announced her presence. Glowing with pride at her successful transformation. With a slight tug of a hand she revealed her creation, a real life Barbie doll that was once a young man. There was a collective moment of aw. Who knew under all the clothes he normally wore Soda’s body was so slight, frail, supple? The costume he wore now exhibited that and so much more, leaving very little to the imagination. Delicately curved stomach and hips manifested from just below the rib and displayed themselfs thanks to a very short shirt and barely there skirt. Long colt like legs poured from the bottom of the tiny black skirt, anchored by chunky black shoes that made him seem all the skinnier. After the initial wonderment wore off Darry found many problems with this set up.
“Everything’s to small, you can see her entire body.”
Steve, having pulled himself out of staring at Soda as well, pointed to the living room clock.
“To late to change it now Darry, party’s in a half hour and we got to find the missing big bad wolf.”

      Bob, Randy, and three other guys dressed as famous movie monsters started their Saturday driving around, hassling girls both greasy and not. Then they stopped at the shopping center to waist time. While Randy and the others caught up with another bunch of guys (socs) Bob made a few phone calls to Cherry, she answered once and hung up before he could get three words out. All the other calls where answered by Marcia and while she entertained him by relaying his messages to Cherry it got him nowhere. Marc, another member of Bob’s group, approached Bob, Randy not far behind.
“These guys are going to come with us.” Marc announced gesturing behind him to the other group of socs. Bob nodded his acceptance feeling less up to this journey, signing and removing his werewolf mask he turned to his friends hand extended.
“Give me the keys, I’ll stay with the car til you’re done with the greaser party.”
“Oh no my friend, you’ve got to dance!” Marc laughed dangling the keys to Bob’s mustang just out of reach. Unamused with Marc’s teasing Bob chased his keys and Marc who was running around the parking lot with them.
“No! I feel to heavy for dancing.”
“Then barrow cupid’s wings and fly above gravity for you are a lover of the worst kind!”
The rest of the socs watched with great interest the two usually composed gentlemen chased each other over the nearly empty blacktop and argued in an almost Shakespearean manner.
“I am? If that is so, then I am to weighted down by my love to soar with lover’s wings and my burden, my love, will surely make me sink!”
“Sink and drown in your love! But how can you oppress such a tender thing?”
“Tender? Love is anything but! It is rude and rough. Love is a sharp blade at which we are impaled.”
Leaping on a vacant car Marc tossed the coveted keys to Randy then continued his banter with Bob.
“If love is rough with you, Robert, be rough with love!”
Signing again Bob turned to Randy and fixed him with a serous face. Randy only smiled at him, shook his head ‘no’ and tossed the keys back to Marc. With in minutes Marc and Randy had a game of pickle going.
“Prick love for pricking you and beat love down!” Marc continued, earning cheers from their army of cohorts for his performance.
“Let’s get going! The more time we waist here the less fun we’ll have at the party!” Randy yelled, noting the fading light and urgency of time.
“We do better not to attend at all.” Bob contended.
“And why might that be?” Marc countered.
“Because last night I had a dream-
“Well so did I?” Marc pocketed the keys upon receiving them, then sat on the car he was dancing about on.
“Then what was your dream?” Bob demanded resuming some of his authority.
“That we were in Shakespeare and you would try to get out of going to this party.” sliding off the beat up car hood Marc moved dangerously close to Bob, stop only inches from his noise.
“I promise this, you will not die as consequence for this night.”
While Marc was in Bob’s face Randy circled around them and retrieved the mustang keys from Marc’s pocket.
“At this rate by the time we get there we’ll be to late!” Randy declared settling into the driver’s seat and turning the engine. It an animalistic blur of howling, screaming, and hooting the gang of socs dressed as monsters jumped in to the two drop top mustangs and charged off to the eastside like soldiers headed in to battle. Bob however, gazed silently out the front passenger side window muttering his last defense in the matter so low it couldn’t be heard over the din of screams and howls.
“Some consequence yet hangs in the stars...”

      Merril’s house was smoky and loud when Darry had officially giving up the search for Dally. Right in the door Darry hunted Buck out, Soda’s wrist held tightly in hand. It didn’t take long to find the host, a boorish man, all Darry need do was fallow the clangorous catcalls. Surely enough in doing this Darry, with Soda in tow, ran in to the boisterous Buck Merril.
“Buck is Dally here?” Darry screamed to be heard over the Jon Cash record and other voices, who were equally loud. Already drunk Buck vaguely recognized Darry or the person he was asking for, he didn’t much care but he played the game because what he did care about was the cute little red riding hood wiggling around behind Darry.
“Winston? Na he ain’t here, but he’s bound to drop by sooner or later. Kid practically lives here.” now that he was done with the lumberjack Buck could play with the country girl. Reaching around Darry Buck took red riding hood’s other wrist and pulled her close to his body. Wrapping the hand he took around his shoulder then wrapped his newly freed arm around her waist. Drunkenly he gazed into her eyes, then addressed Darry with his question.
“Who might this be Curtis? Someone I know?”
Darry watched reluctant to help his scantily clad cross dressed brother.
“That’s Soda. My brother.” he finally responded. He and Buck shared a laugh that only fueled Soda’s embarrassment, and rage. In an unusual display by Soda’s standards the little country girl stomped on Buck’s bare foot with his heavy black church shoes. Once the toga clad beast released him Soda slapped Buck across the face and delivered some heated words.
“Touch me like that again, dress or no dress, I’ll kick that little brain you put so much stock in hard enough to make you blind.”
“SODAPOP!!!”
“Fiery thing, ever need a helping hand with him Curtis send him on my way.” Buck laughed and swatted the barely covered bottom as Darry towed his fiery little brother to another portion of the party, joining the rest of the gang. After almost throwing Soda on the couch Darry assigned Steve the job of watching him, because Soda was in BIG trouble. He then instructed Soda to ‘stay put’ and warned that if he saw red riding hood off the couch he’d be sorry. Of course Steve wasn’t expected to babysit naughty red riding hood all night, no, the whole gang took turns sitting with Soda. Darry took his turns chewing Soda out about how one should behave in public, even if that public was filled with people that had known them for years.


        The large group of movie monsters entered the party a little after eight. Between his comrades Bob listens to the loud roar of the party host as he attempted to cohoes any women present to dance with him, half laughing at his sheet made toga or perhaps the entire pathetic scene. At least there was a bar, Bob observed, but then his eye drifted to the left as though drawn by a magnet til it landed upon a figure on the couch. Wondering from his protective group Bob caught a young man about his age dressed as an elderly lady and pointing to the image that his eye has not wavered from since discovering her and asked.
“Who is that, enriching the depths of this smoke filled cave?”
Steve looked at his addresser, and assumed because of the mask it to be Dally playing some strange game with him, then to the direction the wolf was pointing him in.
“Soda? Dal, are you high or have you simply lost your mind?” not really wanting an answer Steve pulled free of ‘Dally’s’ flimsy grip and went about his prior business. Bob so entranced by the country maiden didn’t notice his informants escape.
“Did my heart love til now?” he ventured to himself, “For I have never set eyes on true beauty til this night.” like floating Bob found himself, as though only she and he existed.
    While Bob realized true love his friends, Marc and Randy, dabbled in a touch of trickery. Listening to the selection of music provided by the company usually kept in the home Marc thought it would be a kick to show them ‘real music’ and asked a comrade dresses as the mummy to fetch a Beatles album.
    Finding himself beside the couch were sat his heart Bob was stuck with confusion when the drunken pig (remember Two-bit’s dresses as the pig made of sticks) left as guardian to the treasure addressed him with familiarity.
“Good, you’re here! I gotta pee like you wouldn’t believe.” and after sharing that bit of information the pig made of sticks up and left. Awkwardly Bob sat next to the holiest of shrines, the most tempting of angel faced creatures to shine upon this undeserving earth.
“May I kiss you? Just once! It can be chaste.” Bob whispered, breath hot and sweet against the velvety flesh of the angel beside him.
“You’re actually asking?” Soda knew it wasn’t Dally behind that mask and only suspected that whom ever it was had no idea who he was, in fact he was almost certain this person like so many others he fended off that night thought he was a girl.
“You don’t even have to move.”
“But you kissing me would be a sin I’m sure.”
“ Then let me be wrapped in sin, if in it my prayer be answered.” Soda laughed, a brilliantly beauties laugh that made Bob’s heart ache to provoke it again.
“If you wish, a chaste kiss I’ll grant you.”
And with dancing fingers Soda moved Bob’s mask just enough to free his lips and delivered the most precious, purest, kiss to those lips. Before releasing Bob from his granted wish Soda smiled,“You kiss by the book.”

Meredith

Something like Shakespeare