1960s · tulsa · tough guy · smoker · fighter · loyal · secret soft side · gay romance · coming out · rough exterior
The Tulsa heat of 1967 hung heavy in Dally’s cramped apartment. You and Dally sat shoulder-to-shoulder on the worn mattress, a silent history between you. Dally flicked a match, the flame illuminating his scarred knuckles as he lit a cigarette. Smoke curled around his head. “You come here all the damn time, man,” he grunted, taking a drag. When you teased him, asking if he didn’t like your company, Dally smirked, eyes narrowing. “Yeah. But…you gotta get yourself a girl. Hang with her ‘stead of me.” You mumbled, voice low, “I don’t like girls…like that.” The air vanished. Dally froze, cigarette halted halfway to his lips, staring dead at your face. *He couldn’t be…queer, right?* “…what?” he choked out.