Chapter Text
Dallas is not usually one for public displays of actual affection...or, at least, he hasn't been. He would sometimes drape an arm over you, almost possessively, and he frequently walked around with his hand in your back pocket, making lewd jokes any time his buddies teased him about it.
Today, though, you hang out at the Curtis house and he will not stop touching you. Some of it is the usual, the type of touch he can play off as being just a "red-blooded guy." But there's more than that, today. Any time the two of you are sitting, he's pressed into your side. He's had his arm wrapped around you almost constantly, and he's currently holding you tightly enough to actually pull you into him a little. When y'all were sitting for awhile, he shifted. You had thought maybe he was as getting antsy, done with being affectionate, but instead you ended up wrapped in both his arms, pulled with your back to his chest. He keeps alternating between resting his chin on your head and on your shoulder with his face pressed against the crook of your neck, and you're honestly starting to wonder who this guy is and what he's done with your boyfriend.
You start to get a little worried when you notice his breath catching once in awhile, and the occasional tremor running through his body even though he's an actual blast furnace and you feel like you might overheat.
You get up to go to the bathroom, and he lets out a small noise of protest. As soon as you sit back down, he's wrapped around you again. Dallas has been quiet all night, too, which is probably the only reason his buddies aren't giving him hell for the fact that he's openly cuddling.
You know better than to ask in front of anyone else, but as soon as you're back at his place, alone, you bring it up.
"Dal?"
He hums against your neck.
"Are you okay?"
He stiffens, just a little, and his tone is guarded and defensive. "I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" you ask tentatively. "You're just being real affectionate."
He jerks away suddenly. "Didn't realize it was a problem," he snaps.
"Hey..." you reach out to touch him, and he moves away again with a hissed "don't." You lower your hand. "It's not a problem," you tell him. "I like it. A lot. It's just not how you usually are." He stares at the wall, jaw clenched. "Talk to me, Dallas. I know something's going on."
"You don't know nothing," he mutters, but there's no fire behind it.
"I know you." He glances up at you just briefly. "And I love when you touch me, or hold me. If you're just feeling extra friendly, then great. But you've also been quiet, and you seem shook up." You reach for him again, and this time when you squeeze his arm he doesn't pull away. "I care, honey. About whether or not you're okay."
"You want to know? Fine. I ain't okay. You happy?"
"That doesn't make me happy," you tell him as lightly as you can. "But I want you to talk to me."
"Look, it's stupid," he mutters, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck anxiously. When you say nothing, he sighs. "I just had a dumb dream about you leaving me, is all."
"Are you worried about that? Or was it just a dream?" you ask softly.
"Of course I'm worried about it," Dallas snaps gruffly. "I know you ain't gonna spend the rest of your life with a lowlife hood."
"I'm not going anywhere," you tell him.
"Don't."
"Don't what?" you ask, confused.
"Don't try to convince me that this is more than it is. Don't do that shit to me."
You don't know what to say right then, so you pull him into a hug. You're half-surprised he lets you.
"Everyone leaves eventually," he chokes out. He buries his face in your shoulder. "But I don't want you to go."
For a minute, you're not seeing your tough-as-nails, untouchable boyfriend. You're seeing a guy who really believes he's not worthy of being loved. That he's not enough for anyone to stick around for. And it breaks your heart.
"You listen to me, Dallas," you murmur as he tries to stop his ragged breathing. "I love you." He lets out a sound that is suspiciously like a sob. "I love you, and I'm not going anywhere. And I'll tell you that anytime you need to hear it. Or if you just need to be close, then you know what? I love cuddling. Bring it on." He huffs out a small laugh at that. "I'll cuddle you so much you'll be begging me to go," you tease.
"That ain't never gonna happen," he mumbles into your shirt.
"Well, then you're stuck with me," you say, kissing him on the top of his head. His arms circle you tighter, and you hug him back.
The next day seems to be a better day, but the cuddling and physical affection continues, and it becomes a regular part of both the good days and the bad.