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“Y’all got any booze here Soda? It’s like a nun’s stockin’ your kitchen or somethin’.”
Steve’s voiced echoed over the kitchen and Soda kicked off his shoes, both of them hitting the coffee table with a dull thud. “Look under the sink behind the oven cleaner, there should be somethin’ stashed back there.”
There was the clatter of Steve moving stuff around before he whooped triumphantly, and Soda turned in time to see his head pop out the kitchen door.
“How’ve you managed to keep this thing hidden? Superman would ring your neck if he found it,” Steve said in awe, squinting at the label on the bottle of vodka in his hand.
Soda barked out a laugh and grabbed the bottle from Steve when he moved to sit down next to Soda. “I got him to let me be the one that cleans the kitchen. It sucks but he don’t look down there now.”
Taking a swig, Soda grimaced before swallowing and handing the bottle back to Steve. “I hate the way that feels, I wish we had beer.”
“Nah man, the burn’s nice, beer takes too long to get drunk off of anyway.”
Steve took his drink and handed the bottle back to Soda, who hummed in agreement and gulped some more down.
Normally Soda wouldn’t be caught dead drinking in the house, but Darry had to take Ponyboy to some science competition upstate, and he didn’t want to leave the house empty. It was the first time Soda could ever remember having the house totally to himself, and he was sixteen so he might as well get drunk. And Steve was always down for that sort of thing, so he came over as soon as Darry’s car pulled off their street.
“We oughta pace ourselves, y’know?” Soda said as he felt his face start to flush a little already. “I ain’t takin’ care of you if ya start throwin’ up.”
Steve slung an arm around Soda and put the bottle on the table in front of them, between both their outstretched legs. “I think I should be the one worryin’ about that, lightweight.”
Mock gasping, Soda shoved at Steve’s chest before reaching for the bottle again and taking a long drink, more out of spite than anything. Steve raised his eyebrows.
“It’s a damn miracle you still got Pony fooled with that ‘drunk off life’ bull.”
“Yep, him and nobody else.”
They both laughed and Steve took the bottle from Soda just as he started to feel his head get foggy. He did have a pretty low tolerance, but he never got to get drunk outside of the parties at Buck’s, so this needed to count.
Soda couldn’t see. Well, he could, but there was more than one of everything and the room wasn’t staying still.
He was sprawled out on the floor in front of the T.V. and was starving. There was a clattering from the kitchen and he let out a low whine. “Steve?”
More clattering followed by a string of curses and Soda’s head hurt. “Yeah?”
“Where are you?”
The door swung open and Soda tilted his head back to see Steve carrying two bowls of something, and maybe laughing. Soda couldn’t tell.
“You’re wasted, buddy,” Steve said matter of factly, sitting down cross-legged next to Soda and putting both bowls down carefully. “If you throw up we ain’t friends anymore.”
Forcing himself to sit up, Soda made to shove at Steve’s shoulder, but missed, clipping him and half falling half leaning into him instead. “‘M not gonna throw up.”
Steve mumbled something through a mouthful of whatever was in the bowl, and Soda perked up, leaning over his shoulder to see what it was. “What’s that?”
“Ice cream, idiot,” Steve said, picking up the other bowl and handing it to Soda. “You asked for it, remember?”
Soda didn’t respond, already two mouthfuls into his own ice cream because it was so fucking good right then and he loved Steve for it. He said as much.
Steve shifted so that Soda could lean on him and they could both still eat. “Love ya too, Pepsi.”
Shaking his head, Soda swallowed some ice cream and put down his bowl, turning to face Steve, who was biting back a smile. “No Steve, like I love you, really, man.”
“You’re really drunk.”
A hiccup, and Soda nodded, staggering to a stand and stumbling to the table. “We have more right?”
He got to the table and picked up the nearly half empty bottle and walked back over to Steve, whining when the older took the bottle from him and dragged him down by the forearm. “Hey! That’s mine.”
Steve took a drink and slapped Soda’s hand away when he reached for it again, getting another whine. “ Soda , you need to wait a little or else you’ll get sick - stop it!”
Soda clumsily tackled Steve, who managed to get the bottle out of the way before getting a mouthful of Soda’s shirt.
“You’re askin’ for it now,” Steve got out through a laugh, pushing Soda’s chest so he rolled off to the side, and jumping to sit on his hips. “You really think I ain’t willin’ to hold ya down?”
Drumming his feet against the floor, Soda tried his best to focus on Steve’s face and attempted a scowl. Steve was smiling so he didn’t think it worked. “Let me up.”
“No.”
“ Steve .”
“
Soda
,” Steve mocked, taking a risk and reaching over to grab the bottle, giving Soda a playful smirk before taking another drink. “You didn’t let me have my fair share, now you gotta wait.”
“How long?” Soda asked, pulling weakly at his hands trapped under Steve’s knees.
“‘Til I’m as drunk as you.”
“That’s gonna take forever .”
Half an hour later, Soda was giggling as Steve flopped down on the couch and immediately crawled to sit next to him.
“You finally as drunk as me?” the younger boy teased, able to see a little bit better but everything was still hazy. “Stevie?”
Steve groaned and crossed his legs over Soda’s on the table in front of them. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not, Stevie?”
Soda burst out laughing again when Steve growled and tried to drag him into a headlock. He pushed back, but neither of them were coordinated enough to get a good hold on the other, so they ended up with Steve flat on his back and Soda crammed between him and the back of the couch, laughing into Steve’s neck as the other tried to push him off.
He managed to drag Soda up, ending up with him on his chest, elbows propping him up next to both of Steve’s sides. “Get off me.”
“You put me here!” Soda protested, trying to push himself up and failing, falling forward onto Steve, smacking his head into his chin with a groan. “Ouch.”
“Ouch yourself,” Steve griped, pushing at Soda’s chest as he tried again to get up, managing better this time and getting himself seated firmly on Steve’s chest with his legs tucked on either side of him. “That’s better.”
“Yeah,” Soda said, yawning big as soon as the word left his mouth. His head was still fuzzy but it had to be past midnight by now. “‘M tired.”
“Me too.”
Soda let his eyes flutter shut and sort of dozed sitting up for a second, forcing himself awake when Steve slurred out his name. “Yeah?”
“You ever wonder what it’d be like to kiss a guy?”
Soda frowned, tilting his head and thinking about it for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, more when I’m drunk or stoned though.”
Steve nodded underneath him, looking up at Soda and squinting, opening and closing his mouth a few times before saying anything. “We could do that.”
“Do you wanna?” Soda asked, feeling his breathing hitch for a second before he shook his head. “I mean it ain’t like we’re goin’ around together or nothin’.”
“Yeah,” Steve agreed, “and we me and Evie were still datin’ she said girls did that kind of stuff all the time when they got drunk.”
“Really?”
“That’s what she said.”
Soda thought about it for another moment. There really wasn’t anything wrong with it, nobody was here and it wasn’t like Steve was going to wake up the next morning and bang down people’s door’s telling them. And he really had thought about it a lot, and not just when he was drunk or stoned like he told Steve, more often than that.
Finally he shrugged and looked down at Steve. “Okay.”
Leaning down, he tilted his head and pressed his lips lightly onto Steve’s, not really sure how the other wanted to go about the whole thing. That turned out to not be a problem, and half a second later Steve kissed back, and Soda let his mouth move with his, opening his mouth to bite down softly on his bottom lip.
Steve made a noise Soda had never heard come from him, and they both pulled back.
“Shit,” Steve said, a note of approval and surprise in his voice and he looked up at Soda, a light smile taking over his face. “What?”
Soda was grinning like an idiot, and he kept himself from just leaning down and doing the whole thing over again because that was great . “Nothin’.”
“You’re lookin’ like it’s Christmas or somethin’,” Steve said teasingly, laughing a little when Soda felt his face flush. “You’re stupid.”
“Nah, I’m tired,” Soda said before falling forward onto Steve again and shifting a little so he was on his side between Steve and the couch. He could feel Steve’s chest moving still while he laughed. “Shut up.”
“Move over,” Steve giggled out, laughter starting to die down when he pushed at Soda a little until his head was on Steve’s shoulder, arm thrown over his chest. “You sleep like a girl.”
“And you kiss like a girl,” Soda mumbled, smiling when Steve pinched his arm lightly. “I didn’t say it was bad or nothin’.”
Steve yawned then, and Soda focused for a minute on trying to align their breathing. It was quit for a few minutes.
“Soda?”
Soda drowsily squinted his eyes open to see Steve looking over at him. “Yeah?”
“This stays between us, right?”
“Right,” Soda murmured, closing his eyes again and yawning. “Don’t worry.”
“‘Kay, night.”
“G’night.”
Soda fell asleep not fifteen seconds later, happier than he’d been in a long time, and thanking god Pony was so damn smart and Darry let him clean the kitchen.