It only took one hour to get that rusty-haired greaser drunk and only a few minutes once he was drunk to mistake a friend for his girlfriend. Implied SteveTwo-Bit.

---

One Hour

Steve groaned, dragging his drunk friend down the sidewalk. He couldn’t call Darrel–he’d kill them. He couldn’t call a cab–he had no money. Dally was busy with Sylvia and Soda was asleep. Johnny didn’t have a car and Pony was too damn young. Then, he thought about Two-Bit’s mother.

“Hey... Two-Bit?” he tried, shaking the drunk in his arms. He looked up at Steve with a cocky, drunk grin.

“Hey man!” he slurred.

“Your mother home? Can she give us a ride?” Steve asked before Two-Bit passed out again. The drunk laughed for a second, then looked down at his feet.

“HAH! Naw... she’s workin’!” slurred Two-Bit again. He patted Steve’s chest for a second. “But... but yew can support meh!” and he went limp for a second, making the black-haired greaser groan and stop in his tracks.

ONE HOUR EARLIER

Just about every night, there was a party at Buck’s and the greasers always made an appearance–either in groups or pairs or solo. Darrel doesn’t go to the parties, Soda had work early in the morning, Pony had school, Johnny had to be home for once, and Dallas had a date with Sylvia. That left Steve, Tim, Curly, and Two-Bit. Steve was off cause he worked during a few of his days off, Tim and Curly’s parents didn’t really care, and Two-Bit’s mom was working late and he could be up in the morning if he needed to. They scattered once in the party; Steve and Two-Bit went to play some pool and the Shepard’s went to find some ‘action’. And whatever fell under the ‘action’ category was between them.

“If I make this shot...” Steve began, setting up for the eight ball in the right corner pocket, “ya’ll have to buy the beer.” He gave them a look while they talked among themselves. They were a couple of kids, greasers from the other side of town. They were about their ages, maybe sixteen. Looking up, they nodded, grinning. Steve shrugged.

“Long necks,” Two-Bit put in, leaning on his pool stick. They nodded. Steve bent down and eyed the shot before striking the cue ball into the eight ball. They watched the ball glide into the corner pocket. The boys groaned in defeat while one of them made their way to the bar. Steve and Two-Bit grinned and clasped their hands together. The boy came back and handed out the long necks. The rusty-haired greaser smirked and took a large gulp. Before he knew it, it was empty and he wanted more. “Gunna finish that, Stevie-boy?” he asked pointing to the half-filled long neck. Before Steve could say no, Two-Bit reached out and grabbed it. He downed what was left of it quickly. He leaned off of his pool stick and handed it to Steve, then went and set up the rack again. He set the cue ball in front of the others and waved on his friend. Throwing the second stick at Two-Bit, Steve groaned and leaned down to make a shot. He cheered when he got one in. A stripe.

“Ten in corner pocket,” he announced, going down. He hit it in with ease. “Fourteen in front pocket,” he announced once more. He hit it in, but it bounced off of yellow one, making one go in. “Damn.” Smiling, the younger greaser bent down and hit in three with ease. Steve looked around, finding his partner up at the bar, ordering another round of long necks. He heard a sigh of displeasure from the youngster and knew his ball didn’t go in. “Two-Bit! You’re up!” he called. Two-Bit looked over and smiled. He brought over two long necks, giving both to Steve.

“Remember, one’s mine.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Two-Bit grabbed his pool stick, bent down, and eyed the layout. Smirking evilly, he bounced fifteen off of thirteen, knocking both in. The boys groaned. Smiling, he looked at the layout once more. He knocked nine in after bouncing it off of the side.

“Stop showing off,” one boy barked. Two-Bit cocked his eyebrow at him.

“Who’s showing off?” he asked. He went down, aiming to get eleven in, but failed. He groaned when the next greaser stepped up. He knocked in seven, then three, and failed at six. Two-Bit was slurping on his long neck while Steve did the same. Steve gave his beer to Two-Bit and grabbed his pool stick. After eyeing it like his partner had, he bent down and knocked in eleven. When he looked at his friend, beaming with pride, he found his beer empty along with Two-Bit’s. He groaned and went down. He knocked in twelve and went for eight. It bounced off of the side and missed the hole. The next guy hit in two, then four, and five followed not far behind. He went for eight and missed, same as Steve. Two-Bit was next. He eyed it. “Eight in bottom corner pocket,” he said, bending down. “Same as last time: if I make it, ya’ll but the beers!” he jeered, knocking in the eight ball. The boys sighed while Steve and Two-Bit celebrated. At that time, it was about ten p.m. and it dragged on till eleven.

NOW

Steve propped his friend against the nearest telephone booth to take a breather. It gave him time to think of anyone else who could give them a ride. “Why did you blow our money on beer, Two-Bit?” he asked, not expecting an answer. All he got was a grunt of a laugh as Two-Bit slid to the ground. Steve decided to leave him there for a moment. Who else?, he thought to himself. Not Tim Shepard cause he was most likely drunk. Curly was too young and was believably Tim’s DD. Grunting in defeat, he kneeled next to his drunk friend.

“Hey, Steve!” he called, waving as if he was a few yards away. Steve grabbed the waving hand and held it down.

“Stop that. Do you know anyone who can give us a ride?” he asked. Two-Bit looked deep in thought for a second.

“Nope!” he cried out before his head went limp and his eyes shut. Steve slapped his cheek for a second to jolt him awake.

“Two-Bit, stay with me!” he called, slapping him again. Two-Bit smiled at Steve.

“Cathy!” he began, “Why are yew here?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Cathy? Two-Bit, you got it–.” but he was too slow. Two-Bit had pulled Steve into a deep kiss, cutting him off. Steve tried to pull away, but his drunk friend had a good grip on him. Finally, Two-Bit needed air and pulled away.

“Neva knew yew were a good kisser, Cathy!” he congratulated. Steve wiped his lips roughly.

“Damn it, Keith!” he growled. “I’m not Cathy!”

“Sure ya are!” he said before his lips crashed onto Steve’s again. This time, Two-Bit’s tongue was forced into his mouth and began exploring. Steve tried once more to pull away, but Two-Bit was stronger than he looked. He couldn’t help but moan as the intruding tongue went further. The rusty-haired greaser broke the kiss again and licked his lips. Steve felt his cheeks grow hot. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was rather sexy. Groaning, he stood up, not wanting to be pulled into another kiss. Finally, he gave up and grabbed the phone. He dialed Darry’s number and waited.

“Yeah?” Darry’s voice yawned into his ear.

“D-Darry?”

“Steve?”

“Yeah... can you come and get me and Two-Bit? He’s drunk and... I can’t lug him home like this...” he moaned to the older greaser. He looked down and found Two-Bit playing with a piece of hair dangling in front of his face.

“How on Earth can he get drunk in... an hour?” asked Darry.

“C’mon... please?” he begged, hearing Darry laugh on the other line.

“You’re begging? Wow, a new low, even for you! Sure, I’ll come by. Where are you?” he asked, still laughing.

“A few blocks from Bucks... Thanks Dar.”

“Sure, give me ten,” Darry chuckled again before hanging up. Ten minutes with a drunk who thinks he’s Cathy. Great, Steve thought as he sat on the other side of the telephone booth.

“Cathy?” Steve heard Two-Bit slur.

“I’m not Cathy! I don’t even have blonde hair!” Steve barked, closing his eyes. He felt a hand on his head, making his eyes open. Two-Bit’s face was a hair away from Steve’s.

“Mornin’, Cathy.” Growling low in his throat, he pressed his shoe to the drunk greaser’s chest to keep him away.

“Back up, bub,” Steve warned, knocking away the hand on his head. Two-Bit giggled a drunk laugh and tried to lean in closer. “Hey, hey! Back up!” he warned again. Two-Bit continued to smile while he moved Steve’s foot and leaned closer.

“So distant!” he exclaimed and went down for yet another kiss. Steve’s hand interrupted his route, setting a barrier between their lips. While his hand was there, he checked the time. Oh boy, three whole minutes wasted.

“Back away, Two-Bit. I am NOT Cathy. Hear me? Not Cathy.” He didn’t an answer, so he cautiously moved his hand. Sighing in relief, he found Two-Bit asleep. Gently, he laid him on the sidewalk and waited.

Seven minutes passed with the drunk greaser waking up off and on, but during those times, he didn’t think he was Cathy. Darry drove up a few moments later and honked the horn. Steve looked up, then got up and grabbed Two-Bit’s arms. He hauled him to his feet. Securing an arm around his waist, he pulled Two-Bit along.

“I ask again, how did he get drunk in an hour?”

“Pool and long necks,” Steve replied.

“Throw him in the back,” he ordered. Groaning, he picked up Two-Bit and just about threw him into the truck bed. Steve himself got into the cab next to Darry, who in turn vroomed off. There was silence until Two-Bit began singing to himself, some Elvis song Steve presumed.

“Anything interesting happen when I got off of the phone?” Darry asked finally. Steve thought of the kisses and turned red. But it was dark and he doubted Darry could see.

“Naw... not really.”

“One hour?”

“One hour.”

---

Some of ya'll wanted another 'Exposed' chapter... but this is just as good, I guess. Review please.