He didn't know what time it was or even where he was. He just knew it was late and that someone was touching him.
Idly a finger ran up his arm, touched his neck, his chest over his shirt. Johnny opened his eyes.
He was in the Curtis' living room and it was dark, he'd slept all day after school and now he felt stunned, tired, like a vampire.
The light in the room was from the T.V., flickery and kind of eerie. Johnny lay stretched out on the couch, fully dressed, even his sneakers were still on. Dallas was touching him, and he could tell by his eyes that he was drunk.
"Hey, kid," Dallas said when Johnny's gaze rested on him.
"Hey," His voice was husky from sleep, and he wanted a cigarette, and started to sit up.
"Where ya going?" Dally said, pushing him back down. Johnny stared at him as he climbed on top of him, straddled him, and leaned down to kiss him.
Dally…
He awoke as Johnny was going to sleep, the sun already high, starting to arc down, the light a faded gold.
The house was quiet. Maybe his old man was out. He hoped so. He pulled on his leather jacket and went outside, saw the lengthening shadows.
His hair was white blond, so blond it seemed to glow when the light touched it, and that's how it looked as he leaned against a streetlight smoking a cigarette.
He figured Johnny went to school. He would go to school to avoid his house even though he hated school. Dally smiled, the wolf grin, thinking about Johnny.
It got dark, the single red line of sunset getting absorbed into the night, and he headed toward the Curtis house, and the lot, and Johnny's house. He'd find him somewhere.
The lot was empty, cold ashes from last night's fire, cold wind whipping at the trees, at his face.
Johnny's house, dark even with the yellow glow of lights inside. He knocked.
Johnny's dad, he kind of looked like Johnny but his hair was lighter and his eyes were blue or maybe green. He wasn't drunk but he was getting there, he held a can of beer in one fist.
"Johnny ain't here," he said quick, and swung the door shut. He sounded like he really didn't give a hang where Johnny was.
"Okay," Dally said to the closed door, and headed up the street to Ponyboy's house.
He saw the flickery bluish light of the T.V. from outside, and he saw that the truck was gone. He pushed on the door and it opened, and he saw Johnny sleeping on the couch, laying on his back. His chest rose and fell slightly and his eyes moved beneath his lids.
Dallas felt the desire twisting his stomach as he looked at Johnny sleeping, so vulnerable. He ran his tongue slowly over his top teeth.
He went over to the couch, stood over him. Johnny didn't stir. His breathing was deep and even. His bangs covered his forehead, covered his eyebrows. Dallas brushed them back and Johnny moved, didn't wake up but stirred, shifted position. Dal dropped onto his knees, breathed in as Johnny breathed out. He was so beautiful. He touched Johnny's arm with one finger, his skin smooth, soft. He ran his finger up his arm, to his neck, his chest. Johnny opened his eyes and in this dim light they looked darker, black, as black as his hair.
"Hey, kid,"