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In first grade, they played family all the time. When Darry was bored one weekend and asked if he could join, Sodapop thought they’d play with their usual rules, only they’d add another character.
“I’m the mommy, Steve is the daddy, and Pony is the baby. Darry, you can be-”
Darry interrupted him. “Sodapop, you can’t be the mommy.” He was 10 years old, and unlike his blissfully innocent little brothers, society had already corrupted his easily impressionable young mind.
“Why?” Said Sodapop, not understanding the problem.
“ Because Soda. You’re a boy.” Darry said it like it should have been obvious.
Sodapop pouted for a moment before Steve spoke up.
“It’s okay. Sodapop can be the daddy, too. Ponyboy can be our baby and you-”
Darry sighed dramatically. “No, Steve, there can’t be two daddys. That would mean that you’re married, and you can’t get married if you’re both boys.”
“But why not?”
“Boys can’t marry boys, that’s just weird!” Darry exclaimed. “Boys marry girls, that’s how it works.”
Sodapop and Steve weren’t completely satisfied, but Ponyboy, who had a short attention span but a large vocabulary at four, was tired of the talking.
“Can we play now? You guys are so boring.”
“Let’s play something else,” Darry said. “This stupid game is so girly.”
Family wasn’t as fun to play after that.
-------
In seventh grade puberty had hit, and with it came many strange feelings. Sodapop thought Sandy Hawkins was real nice looking, but found he felt the same way he did about her as he did another kid. Except this kid wasn’t a girl, he was Tommy Briar. And Sodapop didn’t quite know what to make of that.
Steve was having problems of his own. Because the thing was, Sodapop seemed to be the most attractive person he’d ever seen. Sure, some of the girls at their school were pretty and all, and he told himself that if he thought they were pretty, then he must like them. But something about it just didn’t quite feel right.
Both boys decided that whatever they felt towards boys was just a feeling, it was just their brains mixing them up. They weren’t weird or anything.
-------
In ninth grade, Sodapop first heard the word homophile . He had to ask his dad what it meant.
Mr. Curtis cleared his throat rather awkwardly when Soda asked. “Sit down, son,” he said. Sodapop wondered with a brief flash of panic if he’d done something wrong.
In Mr. Curtis’s teenage years, he’d resented his parents for being so hostile towards some people in their neighborhood. Their next door neighbor, for example, who his mother reffered to as a lesbian. She refused to make eye contact with the woman or even go near her. But Mrs. Cooper had always been especially nice to young Mr. Curtis, and he didn’t understand the problem with her. His father liked to complain about the black people who were moving into their neighborhood, and his rants he often included some especially vulgar words.
It was because of this, and Mr. Curtis’s general rebelliousness towards his parents, that led him to meet as many people as he possibly could who may have been different than him in one way or another, but shared the belief that equality was a much needed thing. It was difficult during the depression to get much other than a few signatures on paper, but in his journey of diversity Mr. Curtis met a beautiful, passionate girl whose sunny, warm nature could turn fiery if provoked. He married her and told her he’d come home from the war. He did so, and when he came back he found he had not one, but two people waiting for him. He promised himself, as he held the child in his arms, that he would raise his son to be educated on everything he wished he had been when he was young.
After that, the Curtises settled down. They found an affordable house far away from their parents, who passed away a few years later anyway. Mr. Curtis left behind the anger and passion that had been with his childhood. But when Sodapop asked him what homophile meant, he realized very suddenly that he had never fulfilled his promise. His children knew nothing of his political views or moral values. Their only influence was through what they heard at school and in public. And Tulsa, Oklahoma was not the most progressive place in the world.
“Sodapop,” he said. He didn’t know what to tell him. Sodapop was only 15 years old, how was he supposed to explain everything about what that word meant in a way that was sensitive and mindful of Soda’s upbringing and age?
“Homophile is another word for a homosexual.” Soda had no reaction to that. “A homosexual is someone who’s attractred to someone of the same gender.”
Soda pondered this for a moment. “So… like a boy who wants to marry a boy?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what it means.”
Soda laughed at that. “That’s super weird.”
He meandered away, still thinking about it, and Mr. Curtis said nothing. He really wished he had.
-------
In eleventh grade, Sodapop’s parents died. When Darry told him and Pony the news, for the first time in his life Soda felt numb inside. He was known famously as the happy-go-lucky kid who didn’t have a care in the world, and for most of his life he’d felt like him and this person everyone thought him to be were one in the same. But the day Darry told him his mom and dad were gone, something in him changed. He wouldn’t know what for a very long time.
The funeral was nice, though Soda couldn’t stop thinking about how he shouldn’t have ever been there. His mom and dad were still so young, still so important, they couldn’t have been taken from the world so early. Darry still needed to go to college, and Ponyboy hadn’t even started highschool. It was too soon, too fast. One day they were there, laughing and talking and so full of life , and then suddenly they were walking out the door “just for a short errand,” and they never came back. Soda hadn’t realized it then, in fact he’d thought nothing of it, but that would be the last time he’d ever see his parents. And he wasn’t ready for that.
Social services broke it down for them plain and simple: Darry was a legal adult and therefore the brothers could stay together as long as they were well taken care of and stayed out of trouble. Darry was crushed about not being able to go to college- Soda could tell, even though he didn’t say anything out loud. Sodapop tried to be as helpful as he could. He dropped out of school, because he was no good at it anyway, and got a job to support the family. He was pretty broken up about the whole thing, but he tried not to bitch about it because he knew Ponyboy and Darry were having a hard enough time of it without adding his problems into the mix.
-------
Steve went to Mr. and Mrs. Curtis’s funeral, but after that, he let the Curtis’s be for a little while. He tried to be as helpful as possible, but he couldn’t give much. All he had was a trailer that belonged to his drunken, abusive father and five or six bucks in his back pocket. So he offered support, but he knew emotions and just people in general were not his area of expertise. In the end, he decided keeping his distance for a few weeks and letting the brothers figure themselves out was probably the best course of action.
Since he had nothing to do without Sodapop, Steve started hanging out with Two-Bit a lot more. Two-Bit wasn’t Soda, he never could be, but he was fun and humorous and didn’t ask questions, and that’s all Steve could really ask for in a friend. And yes, admittedly, he was only meant to be a temporary replacement. Steve had always liked Two-Bit, obviously- they were part of the same gang- but the two of them had never been close like some of the other members were. However, Steve found Two-Bit growing on him, and even if he wasn’t honest and bubbly like Soda was, there was only one Soda, and Steve didn’t need two of his best friend, anyway. Two-Bit was different, but it was a good kind of different.
As he and Two-Bit grew closer, their conversations became more personal. Two-Bit, drunk as he often was, told him about the “boy sent straight from heaven” he’d kissed at one of Buck’s parties. Steve didn’t say anything about it, and he was pretty sure Two-Bit didn’t remember telling him, but he thought about it a lot. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who thought boys were a lot better looking than girls.
The two of them were trading a bottle of whiskey when the determining factor of Steve’s sexuality came about.
“What do you think about Sodapop?” Steve asked. He tried to be casual about it.
“I think he looks pretty fine,” Two-Bit replied, without hesitation. “Why, you thinking ‘bout asking him out or somethin’?”
“What? N-no,” Steve said, a little too defensively. “Stop it, Two-Bit. You’re crazy.”
“Aw, c’mon Stevie, I know I’m an idiot but at least give me some respect. I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes when you think no one’s watching.”
Steve felt his face heating up. “Two-Bit Matthews, you’re drunker than I thought-”
“Shut up, Steve.” And Two-Bit kissed him. Steve sat there for a good five seconds, too surprised to move. Two-Bit was a good kisser, he thought. He didn’t know how to react, but since it wasn’t really half bad, he kissed back.
“See,” said Two-Bit, pulling away, “You liked that.”
Steve only looked down at his shoes.
“Don’t be ashamed about it, Steve. Just don’t let that kinda information be too public, if you know what I mean.”
Steve nodded. “So are you…?”
“Am I like you?” Two-Bit paused for a moment. “Not exactly. Gender doesn’t make much of a difference to me. I just like ‘em blonde.”
Steve laughed, grateful the tension was broken. “Yeah, Two-Bit, I’m aware of that.”
-------
When Ponyboy ran away, Steve almost cried. Not because of Ponyboy, obviously. The kid drove him nuts. But because of Sodapop. He wasn’t acting like his normal self at all. And then Sandy left and something in him just… broke.
It wasn’t the kind of broken where he snapped and he went crazy or something. It was the kind of broken where he’d been worn down for a long time, until finally there was nothing left.
“Sandy’s gone,” Soda told him. “She left for Florida today.”
Steve, who’d been working on a car at the DX, was caught off guard. “What?”
“She-she’s gone .” Soda let out a low, choked sob, sinking to his knees as tears sprung to his eyes. Steve hovered over him awkwardly for a moment, internally panicking, before scooping him up and wrapping his arms around him, hoping it was, in some way, comforting.
“She left me,” Soda sobbed, wiping at his eyes even though tears were still flowing at an alarming rate. “She was pregnant but it sure wasn’t mine.”
Steve refrained from saying something along the lines of “that nasty little unfaithful bitch.” He knew how much Sandy meant to Sodapop.
“Ponyboy’s run away and Johnny killed a guy… and now Sandy’s gone, too.” Sodapop wasn’t really crying now, the tears stopping just as suddenly as they had started. He was just… shaking. “Everything seems to be happening to the people I care about and I can’t do nothin’. I’m so useless , Steve.”
“You ain’t useless, Sodapop,” Steve said, scooching so that they were more comfortable. “Without you, where do you think I’d be? Or what about Darry? He’d go crazy without you there to keep him grounded.” He carefully avoided the subject of Darry and Ponyboy’s fights. He knew how Soda felt about those.
Sodapop only sniffled and wiped his nose.
“Anyway, Sodapop, if you’re useless, what am I? I’m hardly an important part of the gang.”
Sodapop turned so fast Steve was sure he got whiplash. “Don’t you say that, Steve! You said you needed me? Yeah, well, I need you. Some days I think I could kill myself, but you remind me that there’s more to me than being the middle child and a dropout and losing my parents or all the things that I hate about myself. You remind me that there’s still fun and there’s still light and I- I love you for that, Steve.”
And god did Steve want to kiss him right then. But he couldn’t. Sandy had just left him and Ponyboy was gone and then there was this whole part about not losing his best over the fact that that Steve was a queer-
But none of that now. Yes, Sodapop was practically sitting on his lap and they had their arms wrapped around each other and their faces were really close and-
Wait, did Soda say he loved him?
-------
“Hey Two-Bit, can I ask you something?”
It was a Friday and Two-Bit, who only went to school on the days he felt like it, had met Soda for lunch at the DX.
“Shoot,” Two-Bit said. He was used to people asking him for advice. He may have been kind of scatterbrained, but somehow he always knew the right thing to say.
Sodapop swallowed, wondering how to phrase his question in a way that wouldn’t be weird.
“So, have you ever, like, done anything… with a boy?” He couldn’t have asked anyone else that kind of question, but it was Two-Bit, and he would keep a secret if it was important. Anyway, he seemed the most likely to have experience in that arena.
“I dunno,” said Two-Bit, suddenly grinning mischievously. Sodapop didn’t even want to guess why. “What kind of things?”
Soda blushed. “Aw, stop it Two. You know what I mean.”
Two-bit only grinned wider. Soda sighed. “Like sex kind of things. Or even just… romantic kinds of things.”
There was a pause as Two-Bit chewed a large mouthful of bologna sandwich. He seemed to be thinking but Sodapop wasn’t entirely sure that was something Two-Bit did. Unless he was thinking about blondes.
“Yeah, I’ve done stuff with boys,” he said at last. “Why do you ask?”
Sodapop didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d always known that there was something about him that didn’t feel quite right, but he’d been able to push it down for so long. Now, however, something in him was awake, and it was scaring him.
“No reason,” he decided on finally. He got up to leave. “I was just curious.”
Two-Bit smirked. “You ever heard of a bisexual, Sodapop?”
Soda stopped. “No…” he said, cautiously. Was it in some way related to homosexual ?
“A bisexual is someone who’s attracted to girls and boys,” Two-Bit explained. “Sometimes they have a preference, and sometimes they don’t.”
Soda swallowed uncomfortably. He wasn’t ready for this. Whatever this was.
“My break is over. I think you’d better go, Two.”
“Don’t get all freaked out, Sodapop. You can talk to me if you need advice.” He got up and strolled out the door, leaving his half eaten sandwich strewn across the table.
-------
It was Ponyboy, surprisingly, who asked Steve whether or not he liked boys next. He’d been expecting Dally to say something about it, but Dally and Johnny were both gone. Two-Bit already knew, obviously, and Ponyboy and Darry didn’t seem like they’d be too concerned about his love life. Evie dumped him right after Sandy got knocked up and left for Florida, which he was actually quite grateful about because he didn’t want to be the one breaking up with her.
The only person who he’d been concerned about bringing something up was Sodapop, but he just assumed Steve wasn’t getting much action because he was sad about Evie. Evie was a fun girl, confident and perky, a lot like Sodapop, if Steve was being honest. He missed having her around sometimes, but he was glad he didn’t have to kiss her all the time and pretend she was someone else. He’d rather just suffer alone than pretend he was fine.
Sodapop had come into work looking dead on his feet, but when Steve inquired about it he of course just brushed him off and said he was feeling great. He was lying, but Steve knew how much the Curtises needed the money. He let it slide. It was only after Soda didn’t eat lunch and then puked out his guts nonstop for about twenty minutes that Steve drew the line and demanded on taking him home. Sodapop was not in any position to protest.
“I told him he should’ve stayed home,” Ponyboy said as Steve placed a cold cloth over Soda’s forehead. Soda seemed to be halfway in between sleep and reality, muttering occasionally after some delusion. His illness was worsening faster than Steve liked.
“Yeah, you should’ve stopped him from going,” he replied sharply, pulling the blankets further up Soda’s body. Once he was satisfied, he sat at the foot of the couch on Soda’s feet protectively. Ponyboy said nothing, which was typical of him.
Steve, who didn’t care much for Soda’s kid brother but disliked the awkward silence even more, tried to find something to talk about. He’d known Ponyboy since the kid was three, but the more he thought, the more he realized he knew basically nothing about him. All he knew about Ponyboy was that he fought with Darry a lot, he was good at school, shy, and a tagalong. He was essentially all the things Steve was not. As he grappled aimlessly for something to say, Ponyboy surprised him by speaking up.
“Steve,” he said, in that slow, calculated way that Steve hated because it took him about three minutes to get a sentence out, “Are you… sweet on my brother?”
The question was much blunter than he’d been expecting, especially from Ponyboy. Actually, he hadn’t been expecting that question at all, but it’s delivery left him kind of stunned.
“I…” What the hell was he supposed to say? He couldn’t just tell him: “Yeah, Ponyboy, I’m queer and might be in love with your older brother, big surprise.” That probably wouldn’t go over very well.
“You can tell me the truth,” Ponyboy said. “I… I know what it’s like.”
He was sure Ponyboy had never been so honest with him in his life. Why, of all people, was he telling this to Steve ? Sodapop and Darry were his brothers for crying out loud, and Two-Bit was so open minded that everyone in the gang told him their deepest secrets because they knew he’d never judge. But Steve… Ponyboy didn’t like Steve, and Steve didn’t like him.
“I know it’s weird, asking you, since we never really talk,” Ponyboy said at Steve’s hesitation, “But I’m pretty sure I’m right. And if I’m not, well-”
Steve sighed. “Golly, Ponyboy, just shut up. You’re right, dammit. I do like boys and I am sweet on your brother. But I swear to god if you say a thing about this to anyone , I will cut off your testicles and then move my ass to China where Darry can never find me.” The last part was kind of a joke, but Steve was also half serious and Ponyboy knew it. He decided it was in his best interest not to laugh.
“I’m like you, too,” Ponyboy said, probably in an attempt to reassure him. “Girls are sweet and all, but I don’t think I could ever like them in the way I’m supposed to.”
So, Ponyboy was like him, too? Steve was beginning to think homosexuality was more common than he’d realized. “How’d you figure it out?”
Ponyboy breathed in, long and slow, his eyes suddenly somewhere else. “Johnny,” he said softly. “I know I’m only fourteen, but I think I might have loved him.”
Steve let out a sharp breath. Johnny … it made perfect sense. The way they were always together, how they understood each other without even talking. The more he thought about it, the more he realized their affection had seemed mutual .
“Wait a minute. Were you guys…?”
“Together?” Ponyboy supplied. “Yeah, I guess. We never technically dated, but he told me he liked me a few months before… everything , and I rejected him at first but then I said I liked him back. We kissed a few times but we mostly just liked each other’s company more than anything.”
Poor Ponyboy. If Steve told himself from a week ago that he would ever feel pity for the kid, he would have punched himself right in the jaw. But he knew Ponyboy and Johnny were real close even before the news that they were sort-of-dating, and now Johnny was gone. Died right in front of him.
“I’m really sorry, Ponyboy,” Steve said, and he never said things he didn’t mean. “I know I’ve always been kind of an ass to you- and don’t expect that to change, by the way- but you didn’t deserve to lose him. You didn’t deserve to lose your parents, either.”
“None of them deserved to die. Nobody does. Not even Bob deserved to get shivved.”
Steve wasn’t sure he one hundred percent agreed with that; Bob was a douchebag. But Ponyboy had always been a better person than him, even if Steve would never admit that out loud.
“Steve?” Both of them turned to find Soda’s eyes open. He looked bleary, like he wasn’t all the way awake.
“Hey, Sodapop,” Steve said, with the kind of tenderness he reserved only for the other boy. “How’re you feeling?”
Soda didn’t reply, in fact Steve was pretty sure he hadn’t heard him. “I’m cold,” Soda said, shivering as if to prove his point. Steve exchanged a glance with Ponyboy, who nodded his head and ran to grab more blankets.
Steve pressed a hand against Soda’s forehead. “Lordy, Soda, you’re burning up. Darry’s really gonna kill me for letting you stay at work today.”
Soda still didn’t react like he’d heard him. He was sweating something awful, but he shivered again. Steve really didn’t know how to take care of sick people. He himself had a reputation of never getting sick, and if he ever felt under the weather he’d take a couple aspirins and sleep on it. He brushed Soda’s hair off his sticky forehead. Steve didn’t like seeing him like this, all pale and bedridden.
“I’m back with the blankets,” Ponyboy announced, tossing a meager pile of flimsy sheets to Steve. He looked down sheepishly. “It’s all we really have ‘cept for the blankets off our own beds.”
“Eh, don’t worry about it, Ponyboy. It ain’t your fault or nothing.” Steve spread the blankets out over Soda’s body, hoping to stop the shivering that was now frequently racking his body. He was asleep again, and once Steve was done, all he and Ponyboy could do was wait.
-------
“Steve. Steve. Steve. Steeeeeve .”
Steve opened his eyes groggily, trying to block out the insistent tapping on his cheek and whoever was whispering his name.
“Steve, wake up .”
“It’s not time for school yet,” he muttered, swiping at the hand still poking him.
There was a long sigh. “We don’t have school today, stupid. It’s Saturday.”
“Then why the hell are you waking me up?” He demanded, still refusing to open his eyes in the hope that he might still be able to fall back asleep.
“Because you’re sleeping on my legs and now I can’t feel my toes. Move it.”
Wait, sleeping on someone’s legs? Who the hell…?
“Sodapop!” He realized with delight, leaping from his position on the couch and tackling the boy into a hug.
“Ah! Geez, Steve, you trying to kill me?” Soda said, wincing through his grin.
“Are you feeling better, man?” Steve asked, placing his hand on Soda’s forehead. “You gave us an awful scare last night. Darry almost took you to the hospital.”
Soda’s eyes widened in confusion. “Really? Why?”
“You mean you don’t remember?” Soda shook his head. “You puked your guts out at work, so I took you home. You were half asleep and delirious or something. When Darry came home you had a fever of 103 and you kept having these awful dreams. Ponyboy started crying, he thought you was gonna die.” Steve left out the part where he didn’t eat dinner and held Soda’s hand like a little sissy while Darry paced around the house and yelled at Steve and Ponyboy for not calling him at work. He also left out the part about how when Darry was debating whether or not to take Soda to the hospital, Steve promised he’s stay by Soda’s side the whole night and wake Darry up if anything was wrong. He especially left out how fucking terrifed he was, and how he cried once Ponyboy and Darry had gone to bed.
“Ponyboy wanted to take you to the hospital but Darry said we’d wait ‘till morning.” Steve checked Soda’s forehead again. “And I guess he was right, because I think your fever’s broke.”
Soda smiled. “So you slept right there the whole night?” He asked, motioning towards his feet. Steve nodded. “Aw, Stevie, you care about me,” Soda teased.
Steve roughed up his hair a bit, but he didn’t wrestle him to the ground like he usually would have because Soda was still sick and he didn’t want to hurt him. “Shut up, shithead. Your kid brother’s the one who cried like a little girl.”
Soda was looking up at him, breathing soft and slow, his eyes half lidded as the morning sun illuminated his golden hair. Steve fought his undeniable urge to kiss him right then. He looked like some kind of Greek god and Steve thought he was going to go insane, wanting him like he did.
“Steve-” Soda murmured, cheeks flushed, but they were suddenly interrupted at the sound of footsteps coming for Darry’s room. The two scrambled off eachother.
“Soda,” Darry said, poised as ever, poking his head into the living room, “Thank god you’re awake. You had us mighty scared last night.
“Yeah, I heard,” Soda replied, not looking at Steve. Darry just kept standing there, which was his way of saying that he wanted an apology. “I’m really sorry, Darry,” Soda said. “I just woke up feeling a little lightheaded so I took an aspirin and it seemed fine. I didn’t mean to worry you so bad.”
Darry sighed. He couldn’t stay mad at Sodapop very long. Steve was pretty sure no one could.
“It’s alright, Pepsi-Cola. But if you feel sick like that again, you tell me. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it. Thanks, Darry.”
Darry left to go make breakfast, and Steve had the horrible thought that he and Soda were going to be left alone again after whatever that hell had happened just a minute or two ago. What was he thinking? He hadn’t moved after he initially greeted Soda, he’d just sat there like an idiot because it felt nice to be so close. And the fact that Soda hadn’t said anything made Steve hope, if only for a fleeting moment, that maybe he’d wanted it, too.
Luckily, just as Darry left the front door flew open and in sauntered Two-Bit. He usually wasn’t awake before twelve on weekends, but there he was. The door shut with a loud bang behind him.
“Two-Bit Matthews, I told you to stop slamming that door!” Darry hollered from the kitchen. Two-Bit only grinned and apologized half-heartedly before making his way over to where Steve and Soda were sitting.
“So,” he said. “You two been up to anything… interesting lately?”
Judging by the look on his face, Sodapop had no idea what Two-Bit meant by that. But Steve very much did, and he gave Two-Bit a good thwack on the head for it. Soda only looked between them in confusion before proceeding to recount the events of last night, albeit in a very dramaticized manner. Two-Bit was only half listening, but he nodded along at the right moments and when it came to Two-Bit you couldn’t ask for much more than that. Steve was pretty sure he had something else on his mind, like maybe whoever he’d had sex with the night before. Sometimes Steve wished Two-Bit would get a real girlfriend or even a secret boyfriend, because maybe then he’d learn what being faithful meant. And anyway, Tulsa was only so big. Eventually, Two-Bit was going to run out of blondes, and it was unclear then what he’d do with his life. He’d have to move to California.
-------
“Maybe I should just tell him.” At eleven P.M., Steve and Two-Bit were the only ones still awake in the Curtis household. Neither of them felt like going home- Two-bit out of laziness and Steve because hearing his father rant for half an hour like he did every time Steve came home just didn’t feel worthwhile.
“You see, that’s what I’ve been try’na tell you,” Two-Bit replied, a beer in hand “You two have been making eyes at each other from across the room for months and I’m sick of it. Just fucking kiss him already.”
Steve sighed. He really didn’t know what to do. Two-Bit said Sodapop liked him, but since when was Two-Bit’s word reliable? And anyway, when had this whole thing turned into some junior high drama about figuring out if Soda liked him or not? They were acting like seventh graders and Steve was tired of it.
“I’m sick of it too, man,” Steve replied. “But I- I can’t lose him. I think I’d kill myself, if that happened.”
“You sound straight outta some cliche romance movie,” Two-Bit said. “ But I think I have an idea of how to tell for sure if he’s into you or not.”
“What is it?”
Two-Bit grinned and shook his beer. “Intoxication.”
Steve shook his head. “Oh come on, Two. I’m not gonna take advantage of him or… whatever you have in mind.”
“I didn’t mean you get him drunk and then rape him or something,” Two-Bit replied, offended. “I meant a party .”
“You could’ve been a lot clearer about that,” Steve grumbled.
“Buck Merrill's supposedly gonna have some pretty tuff party coming this weekend. I was thinking we could all three go.”
“Buck Merrill ? C’mon Two-Bit, you can’t be serious. He listens to Hank Williams.”
Two-Bit shrugged. “Unless you have something better to do, Randle. Which I doubt.”
Steve tried for about two seconds to think up a good excuse, but he really didn’t have anything to do that weekend. He sighed in defeat. “Yeah, alright, I’ll go. But don’t think I’m doing this just to get in Soda’s pants. I just wanna have a good time.”
Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow, smirking. “And if that means getting into Sodapop Curtis’s pants, well-”
Steve thumped him on the side of the head. “Do me a favor, Matthews, and shut the fuck up.”
-------
Sodapop really wasn’t having a good time. The party was a total bust, for him, anyway. Hank Fucking Williams was playing way too loud and there were too many people and he just felt- trapped . Two-Bit was nowhere to be found- he’d disappeared not ten minutes after they’d shown up- and Steve had left to get a drink quite a while ago. Soda was getting antsy. Some kid offered him a shot and he gratefully accepted. It was pretty strong, and normally Soda stayed away from drugs and alcohol, but he needed something right then. He told himself he was taking the shot for fun because he was at a party and what’s the point of parties if not to get laid and get drunk? But something about this party, or the shot, didn’t feel fun. It felt sad, and angry, and Soda didn’t know why.
He downed another one.
Some girl walked past him and gave a little wave. On a normal day he would have given her his signature grin at the very least. If he’d been paying attention, he would have noticed how much like Sandy she looked, with those big blue eyes and soft, bright blonde hair. But he was barely paying attention to her. Where the hell was Steve? Why wasn’t he back yet? Soda brushed past the girl, who made some squeaky, indignant sound, and made his way into the living room. There were couples dancing like they’d lost their minds in there and- oh, there was Two-Bit, a girl on one arm and a boy on the other. He pushed through the crowd of dancers to where Two-Bit was standing, exchanging sweet talk with his two latest exploits. Soda thought it was a little risky, being with a dude in public like that, but everyone in that damn house was probably too stoned to remember it, anyway.
“Hey, Two, you seen Steve around anywhere?”
Two-Bit looked around lazily. He wasn’t nearly as drunk as Soda had expected him to be. “Yeah, I thought I saw him head towards the bedroom at some point.”
Soda blanched. The bedroom? Was he… with someone?
“I think I saw someone go in with him, you might not wanna follow,” Two-Bit advised. “Unless you’re looking for a threesome.” He winked playfully, but Sodapop wasn’t in the mood.
“You’re not kidding around, right?” Soda said. “He really did go in there with someone?”
Two-Bit shrugged. “Yeah, unless I’m mistaken.” He paused for a minute before saying. “Don’t get down about it, Sodapop. He just wants to have a little fun- hey, Soda, wait-”
But Soda was already gone.
-------
Steve didn’t mean to get as drunk as he did. Well, he actually wasn’t really that drunk, he just wanted some excuse for doing the things that he did. Truthfully, he didn’t have one.
He really had intended to get a drink when he left Sodapop, and he had intended to come back. What he hadn’t intended on doing was spilling his beer all over this boy who then kissed him and told him they should go somewhere more private. And, well… this boy was no Sodapop- he had jet black hair and was wearing eyeliner- but he was attractive, and honestly Steve had been needing an escape for a long time. He was usually rather reckless and bold, but when it came to Sodapop he just couldn’t bring himself to tell him how he felt. Because if his feelings weren’t reciprocated it could be disastrous, and Steve would much rather have Soda be his best friend and nothing more than someone who never wanted to see his face again.
“So, you ever done something like this before, babe?” The raven haired boy said, and Steve only shook his head. The boy frowned.
“You mean… you’ve never had sex before?”
“I’ve had sex,” Steve replied. “Just not with a guy.”
The boy paused for a moment, contemplating something. “Are you sure you’re alright with this, babe?” Steve nodded. “I don’t wanna take something from you that you’d rather lose with someone else.”
Someone else? Someone else like… Sodapop?
“It’s okay,” Steve said, letting the thoughts of Sodapop drift from his mind. “Just show me what to do.”
And the boy did. He was understanding and gave clear instructions, and it felt pretty nice. It was different than fucking a girl, but not too different. In the end Steve didn’t regret it.
“Is there someone you’re trying to get off your mind?” The boy asked him. Steve only shrugged as he stepped into his pants. “I know it’s scary, but if you think this person cares about you then… just talk to them. It won’t go as bad as you think.”
“And you would know what how?” Steve sneered. He didn’t know why. This boy had been nothing but kind to him. “You're here whoring yourself to random guys at a shitty party.”
“I’ve had people before.” The boy stepped off the bed and opened the door of the room.
“Wait,” Steve called. “I never got your name.”
The boy smiled for just a moment. “Andreas.”
And then he was gone, and Steve was left wondering if anything had really happened at all.
He found Two-Bit splayed out on a couch, a blonde girl playing with his hair and blonde boy rubbing soothing hands along his biceps. Steve rolled his eyes.
“Have you seen Sodapop anywhere?” He asked, fiddling with the buckle on his belt.
Steve wasn’t sure, but he swore for a second Two-Bit looked nervous. “He bolted, like, an hour ago.”
“What, why?”
“He… saw you go into the bedroom with that kid,” Two-Bit said slowly. “I’m pretty sure you hurt his feelings, Steve.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, shit is right. He saw you go in there and just fucking ran. I think you’d better go after him.” Had Steve been just a little less stoned, he would have caught on to Two-Bit’s scheme. Fortunately, that extra sip of punch had him running after his golden haired friend before he even realized what he was doing.
Two-Bit celebrated as he left. Finally , he thought, those two idiots are finally gonna get together .
-------
Soda didn’t think about where he was going. All he knew was that the beer had a nice burn to it as it washed down his throat and suddenly everything that seemed so important an hour ago was much less pressing. Soda was tired, and lonely, and sort of sad, although he didn’t remember why. He laughed to himself because that was funny for some reason.
He found himself on the front steps of his house, although how he got there he didn’t really know. The thought that Darry was going to bring down the roof when he figured out how drunk Soda was breezed through his mind, but he was already at the door and his feet were taking him inside before he could really comprehend it.
“Oh, Soda, you’re home,” Darry said, looking up from the newspaper. It was only around ten o’clock; Darry knew Soda could take care of himself, unlike Ponyboy, so he usually didn’t stay up to wait for him to get home.
Soda shuffled over to the couch, crashing face first into the pillows. It was soft, and nice…
“Hey, where you been, little buddy?” He could hear Darry setting down his paper and walking towards the couch. “Is that-” there was a pause, and Soda realized belatedly that he was still holding the beer. “Sodapop, have you been drinking?”
“Mmm, no.” Soda said, putting the bottle on the table. Darry grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a sitting position. “Hey, owww.”
“Sodapop, you smell like booze. Why the hell would get drunk?” Darry knew very well that Soda didn’t touch much alcohol, even at parties. If he did, it was only one or two shots because he was quite the lightweight. “C’mon, answer me.”
And then Soda burst into tears. He wasn’t sure why at first- he felt so overwhelmed and even if he couldn’t remember what exactly was provoking this, he knew it had something to do with Steve. Steve didn’t love him like Soda had hoped he might, and he’d gone off with some random, stupid boy who he didn’t even know over Sodapop, who’d been hoping they might get high enough at that dumb party to forget they weren’t supposed to be in love and something might happen. But nothing did, and Steve didn’t love him, and it really, really hurt.
There was a pregnant pause before Darry said, his voice suddenly soft and fatherly: “Sodapop, what do you mean Steve doesn’t love you?”
Shit, had he said all that out loud?
“I think Steve was trying to find a distraction,” Darry explained gently. “Pepsi-Cola, if you don’t tell someone you love them, how are they supposed to know?”
Oh.
“I just- I thought he knew .” Soda sniffled. “But I guess that don’t make any sense, do it?” He started to cry again, and Darry just sat down on the couch next to him, pulling him into his arms.
“Steve loves you too, Sodapop. I can see it in the way he looks at you all the time. But he just ain’t so good with feelings, you dig?”
“Yeah,” Soda murmured. “I dig.”
There was a knock at the front door.
“I’ll be right back, Pepsi-Cola.”
-------
Darry found Steve fidgeting agitatedly as he waited for someone to open the door of the Curtis house. Steve had already checked the lot and the DX for Sodapop, but there was no sign of him. He really hoped Soda was home and not stumbling along the streets of Tulsa, drunk and alone. On a Saturday night like this, with Soc’s roaming in every neighborhood looking for some Greaser to jump, that could end disastrously.
“Oh, Steve, it’s you,” Darry deadpanned. Steve ignored the tone of his voice and peered over Darry’s shoulder into the house.
“Hey, Darry, you seen Soda around lately? I couldn’t find him anywhere…”
“He’s inside, Steve, and he’s fucking distraught, so I hope you can explain yourself real fast.”
Steve swallowed nervously. Darry hardly ever swore, unless it had something to do with his kid brothers. Steve had been punched by Darry once in his life, and it was not something he wanted to repeat. So he started talking.
“I-I didn’t know he’d be upset and I just thought I could take my mind off things, ya dig? I mean, that boy was just- there and I thought maybe I wouldn’t feel so damn frustrated if I could get some action. I thought Soda would be fine, he usually loves parties! And-and then I’m pretty sure Two-Bit was behind everything but I didn’t realize it at the time and shoot, Darry I’m really sorry, I feel awful-”
“Don’t apologize to me, Steve,” Darry interrupted, tired of his rambling. He nodded towards Sodapop, who Steve could now see was sitting on the couch, crying. Damnit, he hated seeing Soda upset. It broke him up inside.
“Oh man,” he muttered, “I messed up, big time.”
“Yeah, you did,” Darry said, dragging him into the house. “Now go fix it.”
Steve looked over his shoulder at Darry, how only crossed his arms and gave him a curt nod.
He stepped tentatively towards the couch. “Hey, Sodapop,” he said as gently as he could, seating himself next to the other boy. Soda looked over at him with puffy eyes. He was pretty stoned, but Steve decided he could apologize to Soda twice as long as it meant Darry wasn’t going to bash his head in. Speaking of Superman, he was nowhere to be seen. Steve was grateful that he was letting the two have their privacy.
“I’m sorry I… did things with that guy, Sodapop. I didn’t think you’d care.”
Soda sniffled. “‘Course I care, Stevie. I love you.”
“Do you love me, Soda, or are you just drunk?”
“I love you,” Soda insisted. “And I thought you loved me, too.”
“Then why didn't you say anything?” Soda had never given any kind of indication that he might return Steve’s feelings, and now here he was, saying they’d been in love with each other all along? Soda didn’t love him, he was just too tipsy to figure out his own heart.
Soda remained silent, so Steve took that as his cue to leave. But as he stood, Soda caught his arm. “Steve,” he murmured. “Please don’t go.”
And who was Steve to deny him when Soda was looking at him like that?
They found their way to Sodapop’s room- Ponyboy wasn’t there, but Steve had more important things on his mind than the kid’s whereabouts. He layed Soda down on the bed and then made himself comfortable next to him.
“Steve,” Soda said. “Kiss me, please?”
Steve couldn’t help himself. He’d been wanting this for so long. He reached over and cupped Soda’s face in his own before pressing their lips together, soft and tender. Soda returned the kiss with intensity, biting at Steve’s lip, moving his hand towards Steve’s pants, and god Steve wanted it, he really did, but Soda wasn’t in control. He pushed them apart.
“No, Sodapop,” he said. “I won’t do anything you’ll regret in the morning.”
Steve had taken advantage of plenty of girls like this before and never felt remorse about it. They had chosen to get drunk, he’d reasoned, and they were looking to get laid. But this was Sodapop, and Steve felt responsible for his current state, anyway. He knew deep down that fucking those girls had been wrong, and he wouldn’t make the same mistake with someone he really cared about.
“Steve-” Sodapop whined, but Steve cut him off.
“We can cuddle, baby, if you want. But nothing more.”
Soda pouted for a moment before scooching closer to Steve and burying his face in Steve’s neck. Steve wrapped his arms around him and held on tight. A month ago he would have been disgusted at the thought of doing the same things with a boy that he used to do with Evie. But he was long past that, now. Steve didn’t care if everyone on the whole planet said it was wrong. Fuck everyone else. The only person he needed was Sodapop.
-------
Soda awoke to the sun streaming through his window, someone’s strong arms wrapped around him, and a killer headache. He groaned quietly and covered his eyes. Why did the sun have to be so bright?
“Sodapop?” Someone murmured from behind him. At first he thought it was Ponyboy, but Ponyboy definitely wasn’t the person he was spooning with. At least, he hoped so. Then, another low murmur: “You awake, baby?”
Wait… Steve ?
And suddenly everything came rushing back to him very fast. The night was fragmented and befuddled, but the important pieces came to him. Steve with that boy , Steve’s apology, Steve kissing him. Oh God. Steve kissed him! Something in Soda’s chest swelled up, so big he almost couldn’t breath. Elation , he thought. Because Steve kissed me, and it was the best kiss I’ve ever had . It was better than the first time he kissed Sandy, which up until then had been one of the greatest moments of his life.
“Steve?” He said, suddenly second guessing himself. Hoping it wasn’t some kind of cruel dream, or that the hangover was’t just mixing him up.
“Yeah, Soda?”
Soda turned over to find himself nose to nose with the person he hadn’t realized he’d been longing for for such a long time. “You kissed me,” Soda said, grinning. He probably looked like the biggest idiot in the world, but for once he didn’t care. He was too happy.
Steve smiled back at him. “Yeah, I did. And you kissed me back.”
“Can I do it again?”
Before either of them could move, the door to the bedroom burst open. They only had the time to face the door before Two-Bit yelled, loud enough for probably the entire neighborhood to hear:
“Hallelujah! I did it! It finally happened, I’m the matchmaker-”
And then Darry, much quieter, telling Two-Bit to kindly shut his trap, he’d ruined Steve and Soda’s special little moment. Steve made a face at “special little moment.” Soda laughed.
Ponyboy came ambling in a second later, muttering something about having to grab a change of clothes. He smiled in Steve and Soda’s general direction, his way of telling the two he was happy for them. Soda smiled back and was surprised when he saw that Steve did, too. Maybe the two had found some common ground recently, or maybe they were both just too delighted to be mad at eachother.
Ponyboy slipped out of the room a second later, shutting the door to give the two their privacy.
“I wish we could have told each other sooner,” Steve said quietly. “It would’ve saved me a world of pain.”
Soda leaned into his shoulder. “I didn’t really know, if I’m being honest, Stevie. I guess I was so crazy about Sandy that I didn’t realize how much I really liked you. ‘Cause back then, you know, I thought what I felt was just like friendship or something. I thought we was just good pals, if you know what I mean. And now I realize that I actually liked you a whole lot, but I didn’t think it was possible.”
Steve said nothing for the moment, just brought his fingers up to Soda’s head and carded them through his hair.
“And now that I know a boy can like a boy,” Soda went on, “I dunno how to feel. Because I like you, but they’ll never accept us.”
“Who?”
“ Everyone .”
“Don’t say that, Soda,” Steve said, his voice still gentle and slow. Soda liked this version of him. He was soft and caring and talked in this slow, honest way that didn’t remind Soda of him at all but at the same time seemed so fitting. “The gang accepts us. Your brothers accept you. Who else do you need?”
Soda didn’t want to respond to that. Steve didn’t give a fuck if people liked him or not. If someone was talking shit, he usually didn’t even care enough to beat them up for it. But Soda cared. Soda cared what people said about Steve and he cared what people said about him . He wanted people to like him so badly, and if they knew he was a queer they surely wouldn’t.
The door creaked open slowly. Two-Bit poked his head in. “Hey guys,” he greeted. “Is it okay if I come in?”
“See, that’s how to enter a room, Two-Bit,” Darry said from the hallway. Two-Bit paid him no attention. He waltzed into the room and somehow managed to shut the door loudly even though it had been open about a foot. Darry’s sigh could be heard loud and clear.
“So, you guys finally figured it out, huh?”
Soda glanced at Steve. He wanted to respond, but he was all choked up. He should have been happy, he was happy…
Steve noticed his distress. “Sodapop?” He asked tentatively, concerned. It only made Soda’s eyes sting more. “What’s wrong?”
“I just-” He took in a shaky breath. “I’m scared .” Once the admission was out, the floodgates broke. He could see Two-Bit and Steve exchanging worried looks through his blurry vision as Steve wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close into his side.
“Hey, Sodapop, don’t be scared,” Steve murmured, just as Two-Bit said, “Whatcha scared about?”
“I’m not- normal , Two-Bit. None of us are. What are people gonna say?”
Two-Bit seemed to get what Soda meant, but he didn’t understand how he felt. “You care too much, Sodapop. Just don’t tell anybody, and they won’t even have to know. Stevie here’s got it harder then the both of us. He doesn’t even like girls at all.”
Steve looked a little uncomfortable at that, but he nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “It took a while to come to terms with it but… I guess I really don’t”
Two-Bit rolled his eyes. “Don’t be gettin’ all sappy on us, pal. There’s only room for one sentimental romantic in this gay trio.” He looked pointedly at Sodapop, who mustered up a small smile for him. “I couldn’t stand it if the both of ya was crying all the time and telling me how nice love is or whatever it is you do, Soda. Steve and me’s gonna stick to our manly ways of not feelin’ anything.”
Steve bumped Soda’s shoulder with his own. “Sorry, babe, but you know he’s right.”
“Jesus Christ,” Two-Bit muttered, pretending he was talking to himself but knowing very well the other two could hear him, “I’m already the third wheel.”
“Two-Bit, you became the third wheel the minute you made this a ‘gay trio.’” Soda did little air quotes.
“Shut up, Sodapop. I’m gonna have to find us some more members.”
Steve stood and stretched. “You should ask Ponyboy.”
Soda and Two-Bit exchanged a wide eyed look. “Wait, you’re serious?”
Steve only shrugged. “I’m hungry, what’s for breakfast?”
“You know, I ain’t too surprised about good ol’ Pony,” Two-Bit said, grinning to himself.
“Darry’s not out of the question, either,” Soda added. “I mean, with consideration to how he didn’t mind me and Steve’s orientation.”
Two-Bit smiled wider. “God damn,” he said. “We got ourselves a nice little gang of gays.”
Soda beamed back. “Oh, so we’re a gang now?”