"Soda! C'mon, let's go lil' buddy!" Darry yelled knocking on Pony's and Soda's bedroom door, and then headed towards the front door. A minute later, Soda came strolling out in jeans, an unbuttoned DX shirt, and his DX cap. His hair was flipped all over the place peeking out of it.
"You can't rush perfection!" he shouted playfully with a grin in his chocolate eyes.
"Yeah, so much for perfection. Shoes, Sodapop," Sodapop grinned an 'Oh yeah!' and ran back to his room.
Steve then lightly opened their front door and walked in, closing it gently behind him. Darry gave him a greeting nod to which Steve lightly smiled back. Darry went to get the keys. A disheveled, grumbly Pony plodded into the living room. He rubbed his eyes and stopped at Steve.
"What? No annoying comments or snarky remarks?" He feigned disbelief.
Steve just chuckled lightly, arms crossed, posture straight in an antisocial kind of way. Ponyboy looked at Darry, but Darrel just shrugged sheepishly, just as unsure as Pony.
"There, Mom, got my shoes!" Soda skipped out and waved his shoes in Darry's face.
"Ewh…" Darry waved them away.
"Oh, hey Stevie," Soda grinned in a breathtaking way, "you're awful quiet today. Didn't even hear you arrive and you and Pony having a yelling match or nothin''
Steve just cocked his head and stared at Soda. Soda gave a confused smile and went for the door. Something was wrong. It wasn't like Steve to be so not belligerent.
They all stepped outside into the cool-ish September air. Heading up their driveway was Dallas and Two-Bit. Dallas coolly strut in his leather jacket and cowboy boots away from Two-Bit's random laughter.
"You gimme the creeps, man,"
They greeted each other, throwing snide comments here and there about Soda's lack of footwear and Darry's manly apron…Oops he forgot to take off his Mom's pink and blue plaid apron after breakfast. He tossed it to Two-Bit to put inside the house who instead tossed it to Dally. Dally laughed at it and put it on his head like a nun and put his hands together in prayer: "Father forgive me for creating this chocolatey sin of a cake…Lord, you know better than anyone I don't need no more sugar and calories today, ya' feel me," Dally waved his hands in the air as if reaching for the heavens. Two-Bit exploded with laughter.
Darry grew irritated, and went walking backing and forth between them as they kept passing. Two-Bit tied it as a cape and ran around like a superhero. Sodapop was practically on the ground laughing.
"Look, Superman, I'm you!"
"Hey you – hey! That's important to me…why you…" Darry ran and tackled Two-Bit to the grass.
"Ooohf, Get off Clark Curtis!"
No one seemed to notice Steve pass to the truck without a word. Except for Soda, of course. When you've known someone for so long and gotten as close to them as he had, there's no hiding emotion anymore. Plus, he was Soda. He just got people. He eyed his best friend in concern and curiosity, as Steve sat in the back seat, just looking solemnly at his hands. It made Soda sad.
"Alright, see you later Dar!" Soda and Steve hopped out of the truck. Steve quickly walked into the DX office; Soda jogged trying to catch up.
"Hey, Steve, wait up! Wait – hey!" Soda grabbed Steve's shoulder and flipped him around. "What in the Sam Hill is the matter with you today?"
"What do you mean?" Steve inquired dully. Soda sighed, frustrated. Then, he combed a hand through his hair. Steve remembered that he did that whenever he was aggrivated. He also bit his lip when he was nervous. And he furrowed his eyebrows, tightened his jaw, and straightened his shoulders when he was trying to look tough. Steve was also pretty sure he did all of those combined when he was aroused but trying to hide it. But that's if Steve remembered correctly. Steve stared into Soda's big eyes,
"Steve. STEVE—O! Okay, you've officially gone off the deep end…" Soda smiled, trying to mask his worry, but failing.
Steve noticed Soda's worry. "Look, I'll tell you when our shift ends today, alright?" Steve seemed honest. But Soda had to make sure. Sodapop, in front of a garage, pulled Steve somewhere more secluded. He looked around making sure no one was looking, and then leaned in for the kill.
"Super-Secret Sarsaparilla Steviepop Swear?" Sodapop whispered seriously into Steve's ear. It took every fiber of Steve's being not to break out into laughter. But Soda looked very for real. So Steve gave into the two minute, thirty-three second jig they had (yes, they'd timed it about four years ago,). They'd created it one very intense day when Sodapop was nine years old and Steve was ten years old in the year of 1959. Little Soda believed it was necessary to ensure the secret of the confession that he had a crush on his English teacher, Ms. Taylor, with this exclusive, confidential swear. The swear ritual consisted of all sorts of hand gestures and noises and whatnot. If you were to be that homeless man sitting under a tree watching them, you would've thought they were two oversized hummingbirds planning world domination. But really, they just looked like interpretive dancers who had one moonshine too many. But really, they were just two close boys who trusted each other. With strange minds.
On the walk to Steve's house, Soda had unbuttoned his DX shirt again. It was flowing freely in the breeze. Steve hoped it wasn't obvious that he was staring. Sodapop bit his lip, and then looked over, catching Steve staring at him. It was 6 o'clock, and the sun was nearly completely set. When they arrived to Steve's house, both boys mentally noted Steve's father wasn't home. This made Steve jittery. More jittery than he would be if his pa was home.
Sodapop walked up the steps to the second floor knowing where Steve's room was. He got real hot with Steve following so close behind him. He stepped into Steve's room, smirking at its messy appearance. He then lay down on Steve's familiar bed, getting comfortable. He put his hands behind his head and looking at Steve expectantly. Steve sat Indian style near Soda's legs.
"So, Steven, what's got you down?" Soda spoke softly.
Steve was too captivated by Soda.
"Steve, stop starin' at me like that," Soda bit his lip and sat up.
"Huh? Oh, sorry…" Steve muttered nervously. He opted to stare at one point on the floor.
"Steve,"
Stare, stare, stare…
"Steve!"
Sodapop suddenly sat up and turned Steve's face to his. Steve looked confused and hurt.
"Hey, c'mon Steve. Whatever it is, we'll be fine. I can help you. You just need to tell me what's wrong."
The look in Soda's eyes was killing Steve. But he couldn't react. Soda scooted up to Steve, on his knees, and grabbed either side of Steve's face. He pulled his face close and just stared into Steve's now widened brown eyes. He then put his full pink lips to Steve's mouth. Steve's mouth gave in without any effort. Their mouths welded together like hot metal, but they moved like waves in the ocean. Soda broke the kiss for air. He licked his lips and looked nervously at the floor. His face was flushed a warm red. Steve just sat there in Soda's grip, dumbfounded by Soda's delicate yet rough affection. It was just like Soda to mange to be gentle and hard at the same time. Hell, it was like Soda to be a walking contradiction period.
Soda connected his mouth back to Steve's using his tongue this time. Soda's tongue ventured all over inside of Steve's mouth. Steve wondered if Soda was this kinky with his tongue when he made out with Sandy. He doubted it. Sandy's overly feminized and deliberately feeble character didn't even allow more than a peck on the cheek.
Steve gently sucked on Soda's tongue. Soda began rubbing his hips against Steve's steadily and raked his fingers up and down Steve's back. Glory. Soda made him so hot.
Steve's hand rubbed their way from Soda's hips to his waist, and Soda's arms grappled around Steve's neck. Steve leisurely eased Soda down onto his back, not breaking the kiss. Between Soda's legs, Steve began to buck into Soda. Soda whimpered lightly and smiled, surprised at Steve's sudden desperation. Steve attacked Soda's neck and moved faster.
"Ohh…Stevie, please…" Steve nearly died hearing Soda's moaned plea.
Steve sped up faster and faster. Soda got louder, and louder, and really loud. Steve unwillingly remembered the purpose of this talk was not for Soda to seduce him…
Steve broke away and sat up, yielding that same painfully lost look. He watched Soda sit up confused and obviously frustrated. And it wasn't just Soda's face showing his frustration. Soda waited for Steve this time, lips red and swollen, brown eyes glazed, wild hair.
Steve's heart raced as he reached inside his drawer. Soda got a bit worried about what he was reaching for.
Steve grabbed it. Soda waited more, teetering on his hands.
Steve simply pulled out a letter and handed it shakily to Soda.
Soda's heart raced as he opened the letter. No. He thought he could see an outline of some sort of official seal through the paper. Can't be.
"This can't be what I think it is…" Soda attempted to convince himself aloud. "Steve, this ain't…" Steve held a bitter expression and glared at Soda. Just open the damned thing already. Get it over with.
Soda's heart dropped as he saw the seal of the Department of Defense. He had trouble reading on with all the tears gathered in his eyes:
The President of the United States
To: Steven D. Randle Jr.
Maverick Drive
Tulsa, Okla. 46230
Greeting:
You are hereby ordered for induction into the Armed Forces of the United States, and to report at LOBBY OF U.S. POST OFFICE, CEDAR & ROBIN, OKLAHOMA CITY, OKLA. on SEPTEMBER 21,1966 at 6:30 AM for forwarding to an Armed Forces Induction Station.
Signed: F. Hamilton