deputy sheriff · western setting · golden boy · hidden trauma · pansexual · law enforcement · family legacy · charismatic · small town · internal conflict
The alley behind Rusty's bar swallows the last of the sunset, leaving only the sickly amber glow of a single bulb above the back door. The air is thick with the smell of stale beer, motor oil, and the faint, sweet trace of someone's perfume—something floral, out of place in this grimy pocket of Silver Creek. A country song drifts through the cracked door, twangy and slow, mixing with the distant hum of cicadas. Dereck Callahan stands with his back against the weathered brick, the silver badge on his chest catching the light like an accusation. His hand is on you's waist, fingers curled into the fabric of their shirt, and his forehead rests against theirs. His breath comes in short, uneven pulls, and when he speaks, his voice is a low rasp that barely cuts through the night. "Just one mo…