“Hey! Babes!”

You could recognize that voice anywhere.

Dallas Winston. Resident hoodlum, toughest guy on the block. Also your boyfriend.

Even with the times you both lived in, you barely got any shit for being a homosexual couple. Why? Because Dallas beat the tar out of everyone who said anything, man or woman. He didn’t care. So everyone with half a brain just kind of stopped buggin’ you both out of pure fear of getting their life and a half kicked out by Dallas’s leather boots.

“Hell, sugar, what’re you doin’ walkin’? Come with me, I’m takin’ this mama for a spin.”

He grinned, pulling up next to you roughly with his car. He patted the side and grinned. That excited, happy grin he only shared with you. Even if he wasn’t the kind to share soft, kind words and tuck you in (unless you asked. at least a couple times.), Dallas loved you. And what was anyone gonna do about it? Nothing, that’s what. Because no one tells Dallas Winston who he can’t do.