A/N:Another one that I wrote a long time ago. I had it posted on wattpad but took it down because I had nowhere to go with it. I'm still not planning to update it anytime soon but I wanna see what kind of feedback it'll get.

Disclaimer:The Outsiders belongs to S.E. Hinton. Not me. Sadly. If they did belong to me there would be so much slash that girls would never be mentioned except to shame Sandy.

The music was loud, though most of these people aren't here for the music. The Red Playhouse was a club that I used to frequent but I haven't been back in awhile. Me and Dylan met here but we only came back a couple times because he said "I don't like the way they look at what's mine." Meaning me. I never saw anyone look at me in a way that he would find offensive, but maybe I just wasn't paying attention. Besides, I liked that he called me his.

That's what I strive for, it's all I really want, to belong to somebody. To have somebody who knows whats best for me and who would lead me. To have a good dominate. But that's hard for me to find. A sub's choice of dominate reflects the taste that the sub, or submissive, has. Plus i don't just need someone to dominate me in the dungeon, or bedroom, I need someone to dominate my life. To help me make choices.

Dylan had been a good Dom for a while but then he became... Neglecting. He wasn't a bad guy but it was like he didn't understand that I was more than a sub, or I guess less than. I'm what some people would call a pet, a complete submissive. It means that I'm not only submissive in bed but also in my everyday life. I don't make many decisions for myself, only when someone makes me, really.

I was surveying the room from my seat at the bar, when I saw him. The first thing I noticed was his platinum blond hair. It went to about the middle of his neck, not too long, but long enough to grab and hold onto. It wasn't a completely sexual thought. It made me wonder , even with the dominate vibes I get from pretty much across the room, if he sometimes bottomed, or had sometime in the past. He was well built, muscular, but not in a bulky way. He carried himself and his muscles well on his 6'2" frame.

From what I could see he was wearing nothing but leather pants, and I use the term 'pants' loosely. They were just a bunch of leather straps barely covering the important bits. The straps showed a lot of his unblemished, alabaster white skin. I definitely wasn't complaining about the outfit. I noticed that he had started making his way to the bar, and as he got closer i saw that he was barefoot. That really wasn't an uncommon things at clubs and fetish events like this.

He took the bar stool next to me and ordered his drink. I was too busy staring at his profile to notice what he ordered. He turned towards me, and I was suddenly hit with the full force of his ice blue eyes. His white-blonde hair made his blue eyes seem so much lighter and colder. He gave a smile that was barely a twitch of his lips, but it filled his eyes with mischief. I smirked at him. "Dallas Winston" he said by way of introducing himself. "But you can call me Dally"

I leaned in and breathed into his ear "They call me Two-Bit"

"And why is that?" He asked just as quietly as me.

"Because I always have to say my two-bits, and need somebody to shut me up." I knew there would be a mischievous glint in my eyes.

He gave that low, deep, animalistic chuckle that all guys seem to have in the bedroom, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

"Well I guess I'll just have to put that mouth of yours to work"

And boy did he.