A/N: This is a short, sweet and utterly fluffy Tim/Dally fic. I actually really like it, even if they are out of character.

Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns Tim, Dally and all that. The song, "Heaven Tonight," belongs to the fantastic band, Hole, who. I am in no way affiliated with.

here comes a kiss that i never had
nothing feels like this, headed to heaven tonight
i love you-

"heaven tonight," hole

Slam. Tim shoves Dally against the wall and presses his lips against the smaller boy's urgently. They're all mouths and heat and not enough skin. Dally's hands tangle in Tim's curls and he pushes their bodies together. Tim pulls his mouth away from Dally's and gasps for breath before kissing and sucking and biting his smooth, pale neck.

Outside the door, they can hear a girl laughing and stumbling up the stairs, and Dally opens his eyes and looks at the door, making sure that Tim locked it. When he's sure that it's secure, he closes his eyes again and moans softly as Tim sucks on his skin. He moans louder when Tim starts to rub his thigh slowly in between Dally's legs and against his groin.

He begins to lead Tim away from the wall and toward the bed. Tim fumbles with the buttons on his plaid flannel shirt and Dally begins to take Tim's belt off. He loves Tim's belt; it's the faded brown leather one with the tarnished silver buckle. When the belt is undone, his hands grab Tim's bony back and he grinds Tim's hips against his. Tim draws a ragged breath and he clutches Dally's shoulders.

Dally unbuttons Tim's shirt and runs his hands over his chest as Tim unzips Dally's faded jeans. He shrugs his shirt off and yanks Dally's jeans down in one fluid motion before tearing the younger greaser's shirt off and throwing it on the floor.

They kiss hurriedly, pressing their bare chests together. Tim can feel the cool metal of Dally's dog-tag necklace against his torso and it sends shockwaves through his body. He pushes Dally back onto the bed and almost rips the fabric of his jeans as he pulls them off and casts them aside, followed by his and Dally's boxers.

Dally sighs and curls closer to Tim. He feels like he's floating on air because he can still taste Tim's mouth and he can smell Tim and he can feel Tim's skin against his and he can see Tim clearly and he can even hear Tim's heartbeat and slow breathing. He thinks that he would be in Heaven (even though he's an atheist and never believed in Heaven or Hell or God or any of that bullshit), but there's a nagging question that burns in the back of his mind.

"Hey," he whispers.

Tim turns his head and looks at Dally. "What?" He reaches up and brushes a few stray hairs away from Dally's forehead. It's one of the rare moments when Tim shows affection for anyone, and Dally loves him for it.

Dally sits up, steadying himself for what he's about to ask. "You know… we've… we've been doing-" he gestures around the room, at the messy bed and clothes thrown everywhere on the floor- "this for a while, and…" He trails off, unsure of how to keep going and picks at a hole in one of the blankets.

Tim raises his eyebrows. "And what?"

"And… I was wondering… if you…you… you know." His face begins to heat up and he regrets even asking. The hole in the blanket begins to grow steadily larger.

"If I what?" Tim asks. "Look, Dallas, just talk. I swear, I won't laugh or anything."

"If I mean anything to you," Dally says, his voice barely audible. Tim's eyes widen and Dally stares into them. He looks tiny and vulnerable, more like he's six instead of sixteen.

Dally knows how dangerous this question is. He knows it could mean the end of any form of relationship he has with Tim. But he has to know if he's more than just another fuck to Tim. He has to know if Tim feels the same way he does.

Because he loves Tim. He loves everything about Tim. He loves Tim's dark eyes and his scarred, handsome face and black curls and his long legs and skinny frame. He loves how he grins and how he laughs and how he fights and how he doesn't fear anything. He loves how Tim's hands feel roaming over Dally's body and how his mouth feels against Dally's and how his waist feels to Dally when his legs wrap around it.

Tim looks down and chews on his lower lip. His hands twist around in his lap, searching for the right words for a few minutes. Dally doesn't know if Tim taking so long to answer is a good or bad thing.

Finally, he looks up and meets Dally's eyes. He lifts his hand and runs the back of it across Dally's cheek, then slides a calloused thumb over Dally's lips. Dally grabs his hand before it drops back into Tim's lap and kisses his knuckles. He loves Tim's hands.

Instead of yanking his hand away, Tim lets Dally hold it. Dally strokes the long fingers and runs the tip of his finger over a scar on the palm. He doesn't want this to be the last time he touches Tim, so he savors this moment.

Tim sighs, but lets Dally still hold onto his hand. Dally waits, holding his breath. "Yes," Tim says, finally. Then he half-smiles. "You mean something to me. You mean a lot to me."

Dally doesn't know what to think or say or do. He just stares at Tim, who holds his gaze, and he doesn't say anything.

Tim sighs again. He reaches out and puts his hands on both sides of Dally's head. Before pressing their foreheads together, he kisses Dally. It's a soft, tender kiss, not like the frantic and needy ones before. Dally places his hands on Tim's shoulders.

Tim takes a deep breath to steady himself and he closes his eyes. "Dally, you mean more to me than any broad or gang or anything," he begins. "I love you. I love you so much."

Dally pulls away a bit. He stares into Tim's eyes, looking for a flicker of dishonesty. Instead, Tim looks nervous and hopeful as he stares at Dally and he bites his lower lip again, and Dally realizes how all of Tim's defenses have dropped, his cold, protective shield is gone and he's laying himself bare. He's so raw and vulnerable right now.

He breathes in and whispers, "I love you, too. So much." He exhales. "So, so much."