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Still Breathing	By : suicideparty Category: M through R > The Outsiders Views: 6075 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Title: Still Breathing
Author name: Suicide Party
Rating: NC-17
Summary: People wouldn’t understand, but Pony doesn’t care.
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by S. E. Hinton. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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Still Breathing

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“This is wrong, Pony.”

A breathy proclamation, almost a sigh of pleasure, spilling from the lips of the older boy. The younger of the two hears, but pays no attention. His focus is on the feel of the cock buried deep inside is body, the sweet torture that accompanies the frequent stimulation of that place deep inside him that almost makes him scream even though he knows he can’t or else they’ll be found out.

“It’s dirty.”

Again, very softly spoken, the protest is ignored in favor of concentrating on not crying out with every sharp thrust that penetrates him and makes his eyes roll back and his legs feel weak. It’s so hard to breathe during times like this.

“We need to stop.”

And Pony pays attention now, not because he wants to, but because, all of a sudden, the movement stops. His labored breathing is the only sound he can hear over the rapid beating of his heart. He tries to move, but finds that he can’t. Looking up into brown eyes that steal his soul along with his breath every time he sees them, he exhales shakily and says,

“What do you mean, ‘we need to stop’?”

He turns his head to the side to see the straining forearms of the man braced above him, smells the scent of sex in the air, sees the sweat dripping from his lover’s forehead to land, hot, on his naked torso, feels the cock still half-buried inside him.

“We can’t stop. This is the only thing that gets me through. I lost Dallas, I lost Johnny…I can’t lose this. I can’t lose you too.”

He feels the grip on his jaw, gentle but firm, and turns his head back to stare up into the eyes of the only man he’s ever loved. Those dark brown eyes that know him so well, that have seen past every mask he has ever put up. He takes in the sensitive, sensual face above him, raises his hands to weave them through his lover’s golden blonde hair, and pulls him down for a slow kiss, trying his hardest to put all the desperation, need, want, and love he has into it.

They break apart, breathing heavily, and Pony coaxes his brother onto his back. Sitting astride the muscled body, cock still achingly hard, he slowly raises up until he can only feel the head of Soda’s prick in him before impaling himself in one slow, steady motion.

He hears his brother hiss in pleasure, and continues posting himself, up and down, slowly, until he’s sure all thoughts of ‘needing to stop’ are pushed from his mind. Pony knows one thing, if nothing else – no matter what taboos may lay around his and his brother’s relationship, it is the only thing that either of them have, and the only thing that makes life worth living.

And be damned if anyone is going to take the only person he’s ever loved this way from him.

He starts to ride his brother faster, delighting in the delicious friction he feels as he angles himself to have Soda’s cock hit that spot every time he sinks down on his brother, his hips gyrating, rocking back and forth on the prick that’s plundering his insides. He hears Soda moan quietly, and feels his brother’s hands on his hips, holding him down so that he may drive up into him harder than Pony was riding.

Pony braces one hand on the bed behind him and uses the other to circle his bouncing cock, pulling and twisting and squeezing until he can feel his orgasm approaching fast.

His entire body locks up in that instant, and he can feel everything – Soda’s cock inside him, Soda’s hands on his hips in a grip that he is sure will leave bruises, his own hand on his prick, the sweat beading off of him, the roughness of the sheets, the beating of his heart.

His eyes roll back, and his hips still and he feels Soda pull out, hears Soda groaning his name, feels the liquid heat jet out into his stomach.

For a long while, the only sound in the room is their combined breathing and the rustle of the sheets.

Reaching down and gathering some of his and his brother’s mixed come, Pony brings his hand to his mouth and sucks it off of his fingers, knowing that it will ignite his brother’s passion more than anything.

He smiles into the soft kiss he receives as a reward for his actions, the sensation of his brother’s tongue in his mouth a welcome comfort.

And as they lay there, sated and sticky, but enjoying each other, Soda says,

“You know I didn’t mean it, Pony.”

And Ponyboy smiles fondly at his brother, his lovely, beautiful brother, and replies,

“I love you more than anything in the world, Soda.”
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Still Breathing