Tim wasn't at all surprised when Dallas practically fell into his room after a party at Buck's.
"Dally, what're you doin' in my house?" drawled Tim, standing up and putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
Dally looked at Tim's bare and scarred chest for a moment before shrugging. Tim shook his head at Dally's drunken antics.
"C'mon, Dally, you're too drunk for Curley 'n' Angela t' see ya here," said Tim, grabbing Dally's arm and yanking the younger greaser farther into the room, shutting the door behind them.
Stumbling, Dally fell onto Tim's bed, bringing Tim with him. The old bed creaked in protest. Tim glared at Dally, who smiled in return.
"Hi, Tim," slurred Dally, curling his arms around Tim. "Damn, you're warm."
Tim slung Dally off the bed grumpily. Dally's eyes widened as he lay still on the floor, like he was scared. Then he started laughing.
"Ugh, he went 'n' turned inta Two-Bit."
Dally's laughter stopped as he clambered back onto Tim's bed. The springs screeched loudly, making Tim cringe. Once again, Dally wound his arms around Tim, who sighed. He didn't bother shoving the other teen off of the bed again, knowing that Dally would just come back. It'd be better if Dally just fell asleep.
But no, nothing could go Tim's way, ever. Because there was Dallas' face up in his, and getting closer. Before Tim could shove him away, the damage was done. Dally had kissed him. And worse yet, Tim hadn't minded at all.
And he continued to not mind when Dally clambered on top of him, still ravaging his mouth as the bed groaned under them. Soon, Dally calmed down, but the two kept kissing, though now the exchange was gentler, sweeter. Tim, now being able to think, thought about how horribly someone would take the fact that the two toughest hoods in Tulsa were getting so comfy with each other. He decided he didn't care. Dally was drunk, so it wouldn't happen again.
Then again, Tim didn't know that Dally was acting.
Oh, I have a creepy mind, do I not?