#i haven't written in MONTHS and this just happened to me todaay

[fourmula1]

so what about a nashville gay bar full of wannabe cowboys in western shirts but with the sleeves cut off of course. its all boots and belt buckles, hats and bolo ties. 

and there’s country music and line dancing. there’s a mechanical bull in the back. daniel’s taken it for a ride already and he knows how to move - both to hold on to the bull and keep all eyes on him. the bull is always a shoe-in for nabbing him a hot cowboy for the night to dance with under the  dive bar neon and he’s got more than a couple of boys flashing their belt buckles and offering to buy him a drink. daniel’s spent most weekends here and he’s fucked most cowboys here but it never gets old. 

but what is new is the boy in the corner - wrangler jeans tighter than all get out, pulled over his boots, tight around his thick thighs. his pendleton print denim shirt doesn't have the sleeves cut off and his top few buttons are actually done right up. he’s not showing off for anyone. the boys in here are mostly playing the part of country boy but daniel can tell this guy is a real one. a bit of an awkward standout in a place like this but he probably fits in just fine on a ranch, tossing bales to the cows with well-worn leather gloves.

daniel nudges his way past the guy trying to chat him up and crosses the bar to the new stranger trying to hide in the dark corner. 

never seen you here before, he says; tips his hat and grins at the immediate pink blush dusting the guy’s cheeks. daniel can’t see his eyes beneath the brim of his hat, pulled down low. he’s shy. maybe scared. daniel leans up against the pillar at the edge of the dancefloor and crosses his arms over his chest. his is on show - three buttons undone, smooth waxed skin glistening under the lights of the dancefloor.

never been here before, the guy tells him and lifts his head and daniel’s heart stutters in his chest at the shine of the guy’s pretty blue eyes. the dimly lit dancefloor doesn’t hide anything. blue blue blue. 

he has a little twang of a country accent, and he shrugs a little, and daniel feels hungry. the guy is stocky and muscular in the way a man gets from actual hard work, not from hitting the gym just to look pretty. daniel wants to be under him immediately.

but first:

well, you wanna take me for a twirl or what? he asks, signature cheeky grin shining through. he knows he’s irresistible.

you know how to two-step? blue eyes asks and daniel’s knees would have buckled had he not been leaning up against that pillar.

most of the boys in these parts are Rainey Street wannabes who buy a cheap cowboy hat and call it a night. they know some line dances but that’s about it.

daniel smiles and stands up straight, holds his hand out to blue eyes and shivers when he takes it. 

and then he’s being pulled in close with a big hand at the small of his back, and pressed against blue eyes’ chest and oh, he is good. they flow together perfectly and daniel’s never danced with a stranger and had it go this well. the guy leads, and daniel goes easy, and it’s when he does indeed get twirled and pulled back into the pretty boy’s arms for a dip that he’s sure he’s a bit in love.

and they two-step the night away and daniel gets them drinks and learns that blue eyes’ name is max and he works on a ranch a few miles down the road and later daniel gets to learn for real how strong max’s hard-work muscular body is and how max’s hat looks hanging from daniel’s bedpost and how max’s roughed up hands feel pressing him into the sheets and how after tonight he never has a reason to go out dancing alone ever again because their life together is a real life country song.