So this is the first chapter of a huge story I've written, and I love the damn thing. An important note: Dallas didn't die. Instead, he ran away.

Dally: Sounds good to me! What about Johnnycake?
Me: He's…uh…yeah, I just thought that…uh…
Dally: You killed him, didn't you?

Me: No…I didn't…I mean, I guess I kind of did, but…
Dally: You little… [calls me every swear word he can think of]

That's all the info I'm gonna give you. BTW, I switch points-of-view at random, since I find it near impossible to write in third-person. I can't have Dally's POV (even though I love him so) so sorry about that. There's some slash in here, but no lemons. I'm not skilled enough for that stuff. So don't worry.



While Steve and I walked to the Curtis house, we kicked rocks. The air was bitterly cold and we were huddled in our jackets to prevent hypothermia. We were both hurting pretty badly: physically from the rumble, and emotionally from Johnny's death. Dallas had run off as soon as Johnny died, and we assumed that he wasn't going to come back for a long while.

Steve and I promised to talk about it as little as possible around Ponyboy, as he was feeling the worst out of all of us. Johnny was his best friend, and we needed to be there for him. I knew that I wouldn't be cracking any jokes for a while.

Keeping away from the subject about Johnnycake, Steve kept complaining about his tooth. "I can't believe I freaking got it knocked out," he whined. "I'm gonna have to have it capped and that's gonna cost weeks of working at the DX. Evie thinks I look like a total hick, like the ones down in Texas state."

I looked at him funny, and suddenly needed to know something. "Why do you go out with that broad, anyways? She treats you like dog shit. She knows less than a doorknob about cars. You don't seem to like her very much either."

He looked down at his feet. "Your right. I don't." He paused. "You know, we hardly even have sex anymore. I can't even remember the last time. But I can promise you, it probably wasn't that good."

Though it didn't really matter to me, I decided now was the time to tell him what happened. "You know what, Steve? I saw her all over one of the guys from Tim Shepard's outfit just two nights ago, a scrawny little blonde kid. Not really that cute, either. In fact, I saw the two of them coming out of one of the back rooms, if you catch my drift."

"God damn!" he shouted furiously. "That's the last time! Me and her are through!" His teeth were clenched and he was making fists. I did the first thing that came to mind: grab a cigarette. Steve and I weren't the smokers of the gang, but I always kept a few in my back pocket just in case we needed some cooling down. And Steve really needed to cool down. "Thanks," he said, using the lighter I handed him as well.

I could have had one but I wasn't in the mood. I was upset because A) I got almost no sleep last night, for my sister picked the best day to have her friends over for a sleepover, and B) Dallas Winston, who could have come across Texas by now, had my blade. It was unusual, but I was in a pretty terrible mood. The rest of the walk was relatively quiet.

When we arrived at the Curtis house, we were greeted by the sound of screaming: another fight between Darry and Pony. I took a long, deep breath, in absolutely no mood to have this going on with them again. So I just ignored it and went to get some breakfast.


When we got inside, Two-Bit went straight to the kitchen. Soda, eating cake from the couch, took one look up at me broke out in a huge smile. He set the half-eaten cake down and stood up and walked over to me. I didn't even think about wasting the alone time I had with him, and, obviously, neither did he. He threw his arms around my neck and kissed me, tongue and all. I was smiling in the middle of it. I just couldn't help myself.

We broke apart, but I was still holding onto him he smiled up at me. His eyes were tired, but sparkling. "It's more fun to kiss you without the tooth." He unbuttoned my shirt, and I thought, 'oh, not now, not here, the gang is in the kitchen, they could probably see us,' but all he did was look at the bandages around my ribs and laugh, "Them Socies got you pretty good, huh?"

"Look who's talking, babe." I smiled at him, and then kissed him again. I listened as the argument in the kitchen got louder and louder, but I paid no attention to it. The kiss between me and Soda was getting even more heated, to the point where I was so caught up into it that I could barely breathe.

Soda was much better of a kisser than Tim was. Of course, Tim didn't love me; he just got me drunk and fucked me whenever he pleased. I wanted it to stop – I loved Soda, not Mr. Shepard – but I guess I couldn't help it. For some reason, lately, I've had to get off more and more often. And since the only thing Soda gave me was kisses, I had Tim to fulfill my fixation. He was good at it, too.

But did I want the kind of relationship I had with Tim? No. I wanted love, as corny as that seems. Soda could give me the love but I was really afraid to take it to the next level. And there were lots of reasons for that. One was that Tim would get insanely pissed off. I knew Tim wouldn't admit it to save his life, but in his eyes every time he looks at me there's this glow about him. I think he's starting to have feelings for me outside of the 'fuckbuddies' thing we have going on. Another reason is that I don't trust Soda enough. I feel that he's going to get caught up with the girls again and leave me in the dust with nobody. It really hurts me to say that. Soda's been my buddy since the second grade. But it's things like that where I can't seem to read him.

I stopped thinking about it and focused on the kissing. I just noticed that Soda's fingers were up to my head, twirling my hair. I pretended not to care, even though I just combed it. This arousing game of tonsil hockey was, literally, taking my breath away. Heaven couldn't describe it.


"Hey, Tim?" my younger brother called out from behind me. I was walking faster than him and regretted it, because I really wanted company. I was freezing. "Where are we going now?" It was relatively early in the morning, and Curly was already starting to get on my nerves. He just got out of jail this morning, too, so I let him off of school. I guess it didn't really matter since he was probably going to retake the year next year anyway.

I sped up my pace, wanting to get to Winston's house faster. "Does it really matter, Curly?" I brushed my black hair out of my eyes and realized I didn't grease it. I probably looked like an idiot. If I didn't have my leather jacket on, I probably would have looked like a total Soc. To top it all off, I had a headache, and my nose hurt from last night, where I broke it for the third time this year. Looking for Dallas, I've tried Buck Merrill's place already and Dally wasn't there. I had two more stops. I could tell today was setting out to be a long-ass day.

There was a pause, and then my brother said, "Yeah, it kind of does. If I'm going somewhere in this weather, I kind of want to know where I'm going. So…uh…where are we going?"

"Shut up, Curly."

Of course, he obliged.

The Winston household was as barren as always. But that didn't mean Dallas wasn't inside. I walked up to the front door and Curly stood behind me and to the right. I knocked on the door. "Hey, Winston! You there?"

There was a long while of silence before the door flung open. Thankful to see Dallas, my heart leapt. But it wasn't Dallas. In Dally's place stood a short, blonde-haired man with a scowl on his face and a fire in his eyes. "Who the fuck are you?" he asked in a smoker's voice.

I took a glance at Curly, and he looked scared. I didn't like Curly scared. "Where's Dallas?" I asked the man in the doorway in as firm of a voice as I could possibly manage.

"I don't know. Jail. Or maybe he's dead. Why in the good Lord's name would I care?" I knew from what the man said that this was Dally's dad. Dally never liked his dad, and I could see why. I didn't like him much either.

I started to walk away, and Curly followed behind me. But I had a weird feeling creep up inside of me, and I took off running to the Curtis house. Curly kept pace right beside me and on the inside I glowed with pride. My little brother was as fast as I was, and that was saying a lot. On the outside, I kept my head straight and continued running.

I hoped that Dallas was at the Curtis house since he wasn't at his own or at Buck's. I heard from Steve that Winston took off running right after the little black-headed kid from their gang died. The fact kind of set me off. I mean, I know how important a member of your own outfit is supposed to mean to you, but just to take off like that? Dallas has seen people murdered in New York. It really surprised me that he couldn't handle the heat of that kid dying. It actually made me a bit angry.

When Curly and I got to the Curtis household, I wasted no time getting my point across. Into the house, I yelled, "Hey, is Dallas…" my voice got caught in my throat. I looked through the door and found Steve and the middle Curtis brother (Pepsi, I think his name was) and they were kissing like there was no tomorrow.

Hot flames of anger immediately ignited inside of me and I swear to god, I could have run into the house and killed Steve right there. But I didn't. I felt like every ounce of energy was just sucked out of me. My heart ached. I was in somewhat of a daze. I didn't know what it was that I was feeling, but I didn't like it one bit. I just stood there, watching as Soda brought his hands up to Steve's beautiful hair, the hair I used as a pressure reliever as Randle's muscles tightened around my length, the same beautiful hair that I could smell on my clothes long after he was gone. Steve is mine…

"Tim, that's Steve…" Curly whispered worriedly, standing next to me and watching as well.

I didn't even look at him. "Shut the fuck up, Curly."

Again, he obliged. He probably wanted me to do something about what was going on. I should have done something about it, just to show Curls that I wasn't weak, that I wasn't going to let a broken heart get in the way of my fighting ability. I should have done something, anything, but I just couldn't. I couldn't hurt Steve, even though he had just hurt me beyond repair.

I walked away. Speed-walked, more like it. Curly kept up, not saying anything. Something about Curly keeping his mouth shut just made me smile the dumbest smile ever. I looked at him, and with his fiery blue eyes, he looked back with a confused look on his face.

I wrapped his head in a loose choke hold and laughed, "You're a good kid, Curls." I laughed a little more as he looked at me even funnier. And that reaction only made me love him more. Great kid.

I hope you liked it. I had to find the book and look for the part about how each Curtis likes their eggs. I suddenly remembered that part while writing the section in Steve's POV, don't ask me why. So I decided to add it. And, even though Darry is my absolute favorite character, I won't be writing in his point of view for a while. That depresses me.
Also, this chapter is probably the only one where you'll hear Johnny's name, since I don't like his character. Sorry. But I just had to add that slight bit of PB&J slash in there. It's like a rule almost, just like Soda/Steve slash. I love Soda/Steve slash, because the two are like a match made in heaven.
I'm sorry that Tim gets a little OOC at the end, but that's how I'm going to portray his character in this story: unpredictable. I don't plan on writing in his point of view much in the story, though.
Next chapter gets into the plot a little more, I promise.

Reviews = Love! Tell me if you've ever read/written Steve/Tim slash before. I think I'm the first to make it! Yay for me!