A/N: Whee! I am back with a fanfiction. Guess what? I had "Delirium" FINISHED. It was over. Twelve chapters of doneness. But my sister ERASED it. So, I'm back to square one with that. I apologize. This is a fic inspired by a novella I am writing. So... self inspired I guess. In this fic, Johnny is eighteen and Pony is sixteen. Why? Because that is the way it is going to be. If you want to sue me for it, go ahead. Now, I shall begin. Right... now. This instant. Enjoy.

Ponyboy Curtis breathed deeply from the cigarette, closing his eyes just a little bit as the familiar taste filled his mouth and tumbled down his throat. He had been longing for one of these all day, and finally being able to hold one between his lips was reliving. "Thanks, Johnny." He said quietly, sitting back against the bench, "I needed this."

But Jonathan Cade looked nothing short of terrified. At the age of eighteen, having just reached adulthood, he still maintained that innocent look he had beheld years ago. His eyebrow was furrowed and he tapped his pockets nervously as he said, "You know you ain't supposed to be doin' this, Ponyboy." His tone was serious, "Darry said you can't. And the doctor. I shouldn't have given it to you..."

"Calm down, it's only one. I haven't had any all week." He said, taking another obsessive gulp of smoke. "One stick won't hurt."

But despite Pony's words, Johnny looked guilt-ridden. He had a good reason, of course. Since Pony had been diagnosed with emphysema, he had been strictly forbidden to smoke. Completely understandable. But Johnny was only human, and after the pleading and the whining that Pony did, he couldn't help but to bring one cigarette to his best friend.

Ponyboy obsessively slurped the rest of the smoke out of the small stick, and then grinned in content. The taste still mingled on his tongue and he waited sadly as it faded.

"You keep smoking like that, Ponyboy, you'll get really sick." Said Johnny softly, with an air of confidence that he hadn't had earlier in his life. Johnny and Steve had been renting a small apartment together, splitting the rent forty/sixty. Steve slept in the bedroom, since he paid the majority of the rent, and Johnny slept in the couch. But since the boy had moved in with Steve, he had been doing a lot better in life. He had even re-applied for high-school.

"Don't worry about me, Johnnycakes." He laughed gently, using the now very scarce pet name. "Why don't you stop smokin' so much?"

"I did. I smoke two a day, that's it."

Suddenly, Ponyboy leaped into a coughing fit. It had become more of a regular catastrophe for him, and as he raised his arm to his mouth, you could see the dark red liquid hit his skin. When he coughed up blood, it felt to him like someone was ripping his throat to shreds. Basically, it wasn't pleasant, and he didn't enjoy it at all.

"Ponyboy." Johnny groaned, "Did you tell Darry you've been coughin' up blood? Or the doctor?"

"I will, I will. Just not now." He said.

"Can you get up?"

"Yes, Johnny, I can get up. Uh... just give me a second first."

"Whatever you say."

After a moment, the younger of the boys stood up. "You won't tell Darry will you?"

Sighing, Johnny answered, "As long as you promise no more, okay? That was your last one." He paused, "Ever."

"Yeah, sure, Johnny." He said, shooting for sincerity. Honestly, Pony thought to himself,

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"You want it or not, Curtis?" Curly Shepherd asked gruffly, his voice impatient and dour. In his hand lay a small, innocent, cigarette. Ponyboy's old friend. "I'm not gonna wait all fucking day."

Ponyboy thought.

He bit his lip in the same way he did when he was twelve and trying to figure out whether to wash the dog with flea shampoo or conditioner. "I... uh..." He tapped his forefingers together. "One won't hurt, I guess."