15

Steve stood frozen, just a few feet from the bathroom door, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

He wasn't touching. He wasn't speaking. He was barely breathing.

He just watched as Ponyboy crumbled into Soda's arms-small, shaking, crying like the weight of the world had finally crushed him.

And Steve had put it there.

His stomach dropped so hard it made him dizzy.

He didn't even realize how bad it had gotten until now. Until that moment.

The mark on Pony's neck. The broken voice. The terrified glance in his direction like he was something to be ashamed of. Something to hide.

And God, he got it-he knew why. They lived in a world that didn't give kids like Ponyboy the space to feel what they felt. To love who they loved.

But that didn't make it easier to watch him break.

Steve swallowed hard, looking down at his boots, jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

This is your fault.

He'd kissed him. He'd said I love you in the back of a truck like it didn't carry weight. He'd let them fall asleep under the stars like they were invincible. He'd let Pony believe-for one night-that they could have something good.

And now the guilt was climbing into his throat like bile.

He hadn't meant to hurt him.

He just wanted him.

And maybe that was the problem.

Soda was still murmuring quietly, rubbing circles into Pony's back. Darry hovered nearby, face tense, like he was trying to figure out what piece of the puzzle he was missing.

And Steve?

Steve stood just out of reach.

Like a secret, he thought bitterly. Like the thing that doesn't belong.

He'd never felt further from Ponyboy than he did in that moment.

Everything had gone weightless and sick and hollow, like his body had stopped belonging to him the moment he saw Pony cry like that. Not because of a broken heart. Not because of a fight. But because he was afraid.

Because of him.

He'd always known, deep down, that what they had was never going to last. That the world they lived in would crush it eventually-under rules, under shame, under fists if it ever came to that.

But God, he hadn't expected it to hurt like this.

He looked at Ponyboy again-crumpled against Soda, face buried in his brother's shirt, still crying, still breaking-and something in Steve broke right along with him.

I did that.

And maybe Ponyboy would say no, it wasn't him, it was the world, it was fear, it was everything else. But Steve knew better.

If he hadn't said I love you. If he hadn't kissed him like they had forever. If he hadn't made it real.

He could've kept Pony safe. Could've kept them both from falling apart.

But he didn't.

And now it was too late.

He stepped back-one slow, silent step toward the hallway.

He didn't say goodbye.

Didn't say I'm sorry.

Didn't say I love you, not again. Not when it would only hurt worse.

He turned and walked out of the Curtis house, letting the screen door swing shut behind him with barely a sound.

The sun was just starting to rise-mocking him with gold light, like the world dared him to remember what it felt like to be happy for one night.

Steve shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, head down, heart cracking wide open.

Because he still loved him.

And he always would.

But some love wasn't meant to survive.

Some love had to be buried quietly in the dark, where no one could dig it up.

So he kept walking.

Because if Ponyboy was going to be okay, Steve couldn't stay.

---

It had been a week.

Seven days since Steve slipped out of the Curtis house without a word. Since Ponyboy had cried himself to sleep with his door locked, the guilt and confusion swallowing him whole.

And Steve hadn't said a damn thing since.

No knocks on the door. No rides to school. No secret glances across the room. Just silence.

It was a slow Saturday at the DX, and the sun hung lazy in the sky. Heat rippled off the pavement, and flies buzzed around the open garage bay. Soda was leaning against the counter, sipping a Coke and talking about something stupid-like how he swore one of the girls from the diner had winked at him. Steve stood behind him, wiping his hands on a dirty rag, nodding along like he was listening.

He wasn't.

He was watching the street. Watching for him.

And then he saw him.

Ponyboy walked around the corner with Johnny beside him and Dally trailing behind, cigarette hanging from his mouth. Pony looked different. Not in any obvious way-just... smaller. Shoulders hunched. Eyes tired. His smile-when it happened-barely reached his cheeks.

He hadn't been doing well. And Johnny knew it.

He stuck close to Pony like a shadow, his shoulder brushing his whenever Pony looked like he might drift too far away from himself.

Dally didn't say much, just flicked his cigarette to the ground and scanned the station like he was expecting something to explode.

Steve didn't move.

He wanted to. God, he wanted to. He wanted to walk around the counter, grab Pony's face in his hands, and tell him he was sorry for everything. That he never stopped loving him. That this hurt worse than anything he'd ever done.

But he didn't.

Instead, he turned back to the wall, pretending to fix something that didn't need fixing.

Soda lit up. "Hey! There's the little devils. You all showin' up to cause trouble, or just draining our soda fridge again?"

"Bit'a both," Dally muttered.

Johnny gave a tired smile. "Mostly trouble."

Pony didn't say anything.

He just looked at Steve.

And Steve-heart in his throat, hands shaking in the towel-didn't look back.

Not really.

Just enough to know Pony had seen him.

Johnny glanced between them, quiet. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to.

He knew.

Ponyboy turned toward the cooler and opened it with a sigh, grabbing two sodas and handing one to Johnny.

His hands were trembling just a little.

And Steve saw it.

He saw all of it.

But he didn't move.

Didn't speak.

Didn't let himself fall back into something he couldn't protect.

Because he couldn't trust himself not to hold on too tightly again.

And he couldn't risk pulling Ponyboy down with him.

-

Ponyboy didn't plan it.

He didn't come to the DX ready to say anything-not really. He just wanted to see Steve. Maybe catch his eye. Maybe see a flicker of that boy who held him under the stars and said I love you like it meant forever.

But Steve wouldn't even look at him.

He stood ten feet away and acted like Ponyboy was just another customer. Just another face. Just a kid.

And Pony couldn't take it anymore.

So when Soda got distracted with Dally-arguing about oil filters or something stupid-and Johnny wandered off toward the vending machine, Pony moved.

Fast.

Steve was crouched near the back wall, fiddling with a tire he didn't need to be touching. Pony stepped around the car and stood there, arms stiff at his sides, heart racing.

"Steve."

The name landed heavy in the air between them.

Steve paused, his hands freezing mid-movement.

"Please look at me."

He didn't, not right away. He stood up slowly, wiping his hands on his rag like it was just another shift. Just another day.

"Pony," he said, finally glancing over-but not really meeting his eyes.

Pony's jaw trembled. "You haven't talked to me. Not once. Not once since that morning."

Steve's throat bobbed. "I know."

"Then why?" Pony's voice cracked on it. "Why'd you leave like that? Why haven't you said anything? You kissed me like you meant it-said you loved me like it was real-and then you just... left right after telling me you weren't going anywhere."

Steve's eyes closed for a second, like the words physically hit him.

"I did mean it."

"Then why are you doing this?"

Steve dropped the rag and leaned back against the wall, breathing slow through his nose.

"I meant every word. That night-what we had-that wasn't a lie, Ponyboy."

"Then why did you walk away?" Pony's voice was rising now, emotion making his chest shake. "Why are you pretending I don't exist? That it didn't happen?"

Steve looked at him now. Really looked.

And his voice came out low. Quiet. Final.

"Because I can't keep hurting you."

Ponyboy blinked. "What?"

"You think I don't see it?" Steve said, softer now. "You've been falling apart. You cried in a locked bathroom because you were scared of us, Pony. Scared of what we are. And that's not your fault. But it means we can't keep doing this."

"But I wasn't scared of you. I was scared of-of losing everything," Ponyboy whispered, his voice small now. "I was scared of the world, not you."

Steve's voice cracked. "I'm the reason you were falling apart. And I love you too much to be something that breaks you."

Pony's lips parted, eyes wide and stinging.

"No," he said. "No, you don't get to decide that."

"I already did," Steve murmured. "The second I made you feel like we were something you had to hide."

"I didn't want to hide it," Pony said, almost begging. "I just... I didn't know how to carry it."

Steve stepped forward, slow and aching. He brushed Pony's wrist with his fingers, just once.

"I'll always love you," he said. "But I can't be the reason you break. I'd rather miss you than ruin you."

Ponyboy stared at him, tears slipping silent and hot down his cheeks.

"Then why does it feel like I'm being ruined anyway?"

Steve didn't have an answer for that.

He just looked at him-eyes soft, breaking-and turned to walk away.

But Pony's hand shot out.

He grabbed Steve's arm-firm but gentle. His grip trembled, but he didn't let go.

"Don't," he whispered. "Please. Just... don't yet."

Steve froze.

Pony stepped closer, heart thudding in his throat, tears spilling freely now.

And then-slowly, like it hurt to do it-he pulled Steve back in and kissed him.

It wasn't frantic.

It wasn't asking for forever.

It was full of everything-the nights they'd stolen, the laughter, the fear, the love. It was goodbye without saying it. It was grief in the shape of something beautiful.

Steve kissed him back, one hand cupping the back of his neck, the other pressed to his waist like he didn't want to let go.

But he did.

Eventually.

And when they parted, breathless, blinking in the quiet of the garage, Steve didn't speak.

He just let his hand linger for one more second.

Then he stepped away.

And this time, Pony didn't stop him.

Because he knew he couldn't.

Not anymore.