Life Choices 2: Forming Bonds

Disclaimer: The Outsiders is owned by S.E. Hinton I own nothing.

…

(General POV)

Ponyboy was lying underneath Curly, his whole body thrashing frantically as he was thrust into vigorously.

Ponyboy's moans became louder and louder with each snap of his hips. Desperately, Ponyboy reached up to grab any part of Curly he could. He need to touch his lover, he need the two of them to be even closer than they were now

"Curly please give me more," Ponyboy whimpered lowly, "I need more."

Curly grinned down at him.

The hoods thrusts grew deeper as he merciless pounded into the now incoherent greaser below him. Curly's hand slide down Ponyboy's thighs, caressing his long sweaty flesh.

Forcefully, Curly spread his lover's legs wider giving him more room. Neither paid any attention to the headboard which was furiously banging against the wall, nor the alarm clock which had long since fallen and broken on the floor.

All they focused on was each other.

"Curly," Ponyboy called out desperately.

Leaning downwards, Curly crushed his lips to Ponyboy's. Their tongues dance against another as they invaded each other's mouths.

"Curly, Curly, Curly…"

Ponyboy chanted his lovers name frantically as he was reaching his peak. Feeling himself getting closer as well, Curly started to ram into him harder.

Theirs moans bounced off the walls as they held onto each other for dear life.

"Oh Curly, I'm I'm gonna…"

"Curly! Curly," a loud voice shouted pulling said out of the passionate and alluring dream he was having.

"Curly! Wake up!"

Startled by the yelling, Curly flung up from his bed, eyes snapping open in shock. Growling in annoyance, Curly moved to his window where the voice came from.

The young Shepard was thoroughly pissed off. He was about to finished one of the best wet dreams he ever had in his entire life, but it got ruined by someone annoying person outside his window.

"Who the fuck is it," Curly growled looking down his window at the perpetrator hatefully.

Not effected in the least by his mood, Curly was greeted with a smirk.

"It's me Justin," the kid pointed at himself for emphasis, "remember Thursday."

Justin, Curly thought to himself for a brief trying to see if the name rang any bells.

Looking back, Curly did remember a kid at the rumble on Thursday. How did Curly remember him? He wouldn't shut up! Every other minute he was talking about some meaningless thing that nobody cared about. It's a miracle that kid didn't get killed, and just by the Socs.

"What do you want," Curly demanded.

"Come down," Justin told him confidently, "I got something I want to run by you."

Curly thought about telling the kid to fuck off but decided against it. If this plays out the way he thinks it will, with the kid telling him something stupid, then Curly can get a free morning ass kicking out of this.

"Fine," Curly grinned down at him before closing his window. He thought of just throwing any old thing until he remembered that he was going to meet Ponyboy today.

Curly, for such a rare occasion, pulled out some very clean clothes he put in his closet the other day.

Opening his closest, Curly quickly slipped on his clothes, got himself situated and then headed downstairs.

"What the hell was all that yelling about," Curly's father Craig Shepard shouted from his room angrily.

Curly silently groaned to himself.

Oh great, Curly shook his head tiredly. He could he his old man's big footsteps approaching him closer.

"Well," Craig demanded of his son expectantly.

"It's just some stupid kid, don't worry about it," Curly told him nonchalantly, "I'll handle it."

"What do you mean don't worry about," Craig glared at his youngest son, "you got some kid yelling outside my house first thing in the morning and you say don't worry about? Fucking kid woke me up."

"Didn't I just say I'm going to handle it," Curly retorted smartly, "damn just calm down old man, it's not that serous."

With a snarl, Craig grabbed his son by his shirt collar and held him up, staring down at Curly menacingly.

Curly, not intimidated in the least, stared up at his father blankly.

"Look here," Craig hissed shaking his son slightly, "I'm tired of you three brats talking back to me whatever way you want to. Either you three learn some fucking respect or I'll beat it into you."

Just then, Craig's arms were ripped off of Curly as Tim moved in front of his father.

"Is that a promise," Tim stared his father down, "because I've been waiting for this for the longest time Craig."

Tim cracked his knuckles in anticipation. Both Shepard men looked into each other's eyes, daring one another to make the first move.

Finally, Craig broke contact and started walking back to his room.

"This discussion isn't over," Craig reassured his son threateningly.

"I'll bet," Tim scoffed before turning his gaze to his brother.

"What did tell you? Whenever he starts getting in your face or starts shouting just leave," Tim stressed, "and I'll take care of him."

"Yeah, yeah," Curly grumbled putting his hands in his pockets in frustration.

Tim eyed his brother critically.

"You can't take him on," Tim said voicing what the young hood already knew, "so don't even try."

"I got it," Curly snapped without having any actually bite to his words. Seeing Tim walk back to his room, Curly felt he should thank him for having his back.

"And Tim, um…"

"Whatever," Tim told him without looking back.

Curly stared at his brother for a brief second before snorting in amusement.

That was as close to a 'thank you' and a 'you're welcome' as the two of them were going to get.

Walking outside, Curly saw Justin pacing around the side of his house impatiently. Hearing footsteps, Justin turned to him.

"Where have you been," Justin pouted folding his arms childishly, "I've been waiting out here for like an hour."

Curly could feel his eye twitching in annoyance.

"Kid, you got two seconds to explain to me why you are outside my house before I pound you," Curly warned punching his own fist.

"A brief look of fear shined in the young boys eyes before put on a sly look.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Justin Victor Brooks, greaser extraordinaire."

Curly just blinked down at him.

"I see you're intrigued," Justin nodded with a grin, "I am here to offer you my services as your assistant."

"…what," Curly raised an eyebrow at him.

"That's right buddy. I am here to help you," Justin pointed at him dramatically, "with all your greaser and non-greaser needs."

Is this kid crazy or stupid, Curly asked himself.

"My card," Justin reached in his pocket and gave the older greaser a small little piece of paper.

Curly saw that it said:

Justin Victor Brooks

Greaser for Hire

For more information feel free to contact me at the number on the bottom of the card

"This is fucking lame," Curly grumbled throwing the paper away and walking off, "go home kid. I don't have time for your games."

Curly had to go meet Ponyboy at his house. Luckily, he told the young greaser beforehand he might be a little late due to him sleeping in.

"You're going to need me someday just wait," Justin called out.

"I doubt hell is going to freeze over anytime soon kid," Curly called out to him over his shoulder. He felt satisfied as he saw the kid's shoulders slump in defeat.

It's Ponyboy time, Curly said to himself in anticipation.

…

"Where you off to kid," Two-Bit wondered from his position on the couch. He was witnessing Ponyboy rushed around the house to get himself situated.

"Nowhere special," Ponyboy told him slipping on his shoes.

"Really," Two-Bit raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah," Ponyboy nodded, "I'm just going to hang around town a bit. Maybe catch a movie or something."

"By yourself," Sodapop asked in concern looking away from his poker game with Steve for a brief moment.

"I can come with you if you want," Sodapop suggested gently.

Sodapop noticed that Ponyboy had been feeling kind of lonely since Johnny left and he didn't want him to feel isolated from everyone.

"No thanks," Ponyboy denied, "I'm going out with a friend."

"You have friends," Steve questioned smartly. He receive a light tap on his arm from his best friend for that

Before Ponyboy could come up with his own smart retort, Curly walked into house.

Casually, Curly leaned on the door not all bothered by the looks he was getting.

"You know, there's this wonderful thing called knocking that people do when they want to enter someone's home," Sodapop said sarcastically, "you ever heard Shepard?"

Curly's eyes widen in shocking.

"Why yes I have Sodabottle," Curly admitted mockingly, "but I also heard only polite do it, wouldn't want people to think manners."

"Or respect for anyone else," Sodapop grinded with his teeth.

"That to," Curly smirked.

Sodapop looked to his brother sternly. Ponyboy looked back at him innocently.

"This better not be the friend you were talking about," Sodapop warned.

Ponyboy chuckled weakly.

Sodapop looked to Curly then Ponyboy.

"No Ponyboy," Sodapop shook his head at him.

"Soda, please don't be like this," Ponyboy pleaded walking up to his brother, "Curly just wants to show me a good time."

"Yeah I bet he does," Sodapop muttered.

He looked back at the hood who was scowling at him.

"Does Darry know you're hanging out with him today," Sodapop questioned.

Darry had just gone out to the store to get some groceries and a couple of necessities.

"No," Ponyboy denied, "but I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

Sodapop gave him a dry look.

Desperate, Ponyboy got down on his knees and hugged his brother's middle.

"Please Sodapop," Ponyboy looked up at his older brother with big eyes, "I promise not to get in any trouble. I just want to have a little fun with my friend."

Sodapop tried to resist but he eventually fell prey to his brother's puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," Sodapop groaned, "just stop looking at me like that."

Happily, Ponyboy hugged his brother fiercely. Unlatching himself from him, Ponyboy grabbed his wallet from off of the couch and made his way to the door.

"Just be back by curfew," even though Soda said this to Ponyboy he gave Curly the warning look.

"Don't worry about that Sodabottle I won't have him out late," Curly put a suggestive hand on Ponyboy's side as they walked out the door, "there's plenty of fun thing we can do during the day."

Before closing the door, Curly could see Steve holding Sodapop back. With an amused chuckle, he slammed the door shut.

"You know you shouldn't be so mean to my brothers," Ponyboy told his friend.

"Aw, you know I'm just playing with them," Curly reassured him, lying somewhat.

"Of course I know you're playing," Ponyboy replied gently as they started to walk into town, "but my brothers don't. They take everything when it comes to me critically."

"So," Curly shrugged.

"So," Ponyboy responded pushing him slightly, "if you want to continue to be friends you have to be nicer to them."

As much as Curly hated to admit it, Ponyboy had a point. If he wanted to get in good with Ponyboy he would have to get in good with his brothers to.

"I like being mean," Curly groaned, "it's so much funnier than being nice because you don't have to give damn about what you say."

Ponyboy chuckled in amusement.

"Just try," Ponyboy looped his arm around Curly's cuddling up to him, "for me?"

Curly looked down at his friend a rare softly look developing onto his face.

"Fine," Curly told him, "for you I'll try."

"Thank you Curly," Ponyboy said softly.

Aimlessly walking around together, they fell into a comfortable silence.

"Hey," I voice called out.

Both of them jumped in shock. Whipping themselves around, they saw a familiar, to one of them, young boy behind them.

"You," Curly hissed, "what the hell do you want?"

"I already said what I want," Justin huffed, "I want to be your assistant."

"I told you before to go away," Curly stepped closer to him menacingly, "I won't tell you again kid."

Fearfully, Justin slowly started to back up.

"Curly wait," Ponyboy put hand in front of him to stop his friend. Giving the boy a friendly smile, Ponyboy approached him.

"Who are you," Ponyboy asked him.

At those words, Justin regained his composure and he was able to introduce himself.

"The name is Justin Victor Brooks, greaser extraordinaire."

Curly rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"My card sir," Justin hand a folded up piece of paper.

"How many of those do you have," Curly couldn't help but ask.

"Curly," Ponyboy said warningly before his face morphed into a grin, "did you do this yourself?"

Justin nodded eagerly.

"You're quite the young entrepreneur," Ponyboy nodded, "making cards like this."

"Entrapranear," Justin furrowed his brow in confusion as he tried to repeat the big word spoken to him, "is that a good thing?"

"That is a very good thing," Ponyboy chuckled, "so Justin what exactly do you do?"

"Nothing," Curly interrupted before Justin could say anything, "the boy doesn't do a damn thing besides get in the middle of rumbles and talk his mouth off."

"You got in the middle of a rumble," Ponyboy asked him in shock, "just how old are you Justin?"

"Thirteen," Justin answered simply, "I wanted to help Tim's gang in the rumble."

Ponyboy gave him a concerned look. Rumbles were no place a thirteen year old should be. Especially for a young boy that didn't look like he got into fights that often.

"Don't you have any friends your age," Curly snapped at him.

Justin flinched and lowered his eyes downward.

"Not really," Justin replied lowly, "can I please just hang out with you and your gang Curly. I'll do anything you guys want me to."

"How about you go away," Curly retorted sharply, "and don't want to hang out with an annoying little kid like you. Nobody hangs out with people younger than them."

Ponyboy was getting a sudden feeling of déjà vu.

(Flashback)

"Why do you keep following us everywhere," a fifteen year old Steve hissed to Ponyboy.

Steve had come over to see if Sodapop was ready to go out until he found Ponyboy waiting for him along with his brother.

Needless to say Steve was pissed. This was the third time this week Ponyboy had come along with him and Sodapop and he was sick of it.

"Sodapop said I could so leave me alone," the thirteen year old Ponyboy replied back to him.

"Yeah Steve I invited him," Sodapop added on putting a hand on his brothers shoulder.

Steve, however, ignored his best friend and continued to glare at Ponyboy.

"Don't you have any little friends your age," Steve demanded angrily.

"Yes but…"

"So why don't you hang out with them," Steve questioned.

"I don't…"

"Nobody wants to hang out with someone younger than them," Steve raged, "nobody."

(End Flashback)

Looking down at the young boy, Ponyboy was filled with curiosity. The reason why Ponyboy wanted to hang out with Sodapop was because he adored his brother, and vice versa. This kid however, had no connections to Tim's gang yet he wanted to be around people in it.

Why? Ponyboy was determined to find out.

"How about you work your way up to Tim's gang," Ponyboy asked him.

Both Curly and Justin looked to him in confusion.

"You're not use to greaser life are you," Ponyboy questioned.

"No, not really," Justin blushed in embarrassment.

"So why don't you hang out with me and see for yourself what greasers do," Ponyboy suggested.

"Really," Justin's eye lit up in excitement.

"Really," Curly groaned.

"Sure, why not," Ponyboy told him kindly.

"Pony, come here for a minute," Curly dragged Ponyboy a little ways away from Justin.

"What are you doing," Curly demanded.

"What," Ponyboy shrugged.

"Why are you humoring that little bastard," Curly growled grabbing Ponyboy by the shoulders.

"He reminds me a little bit of me," Ponyboy smiled sweetly, "besides, what could it hurt to be nice to him."

"What about us," Curly asked in frustration.

"Us," Ponyboy blinked innocently before he grinned at his friend, "oh don't worry Curly, he'll probably get bored with me eventually."

Curly looked over his shoulder to see Justin staring at Ponyboy with deep interest.

"I somehow doubt that," Curly told him dryly.

"It's just one day," Ponyboy emphasized gently, "how bad can it be?"

Curly mumbled to himself. Wrapping his arms around his friend, Ponyboy gave him the puppy dog stare.

"Don't even go there," Curly warned.

*Stare*

"Pony," Curly warned again.

*Stare*

"Ponyboy."

*Stare*

"Oh fine," Curly threw up his hands in defeat.

Ponyboy cheered and kissed Curly on the cheek as thanks. Before Curly could say anything else, his friend was already walking back to Justin.

"I didn't tell you my name yet," Ponyboy held out his hand for him to shake, "I'm Ponyboy."

Justin smiled and shook his hand eagerly.

"Thanks for letting me hand out with you," Justin's eyes shined happily.

"No problem Justin, no problem."

Curly sighed to himself tiredly.

Why do I get the feeling that I'm not going to like this, Curly said to himself.

…