( this only happened because of this commission I made for literaryoblivion that made my bestie Ty‘s cowboy fetish resurface so I wrote him 5k whoops <3 )
Derek knows, the moment he enters the stables, what’s waiting for him there. Or rather: who.
He’s barely stepped in far enough to be out of sight from the house, where the ranch owner’s wife is still sipping her afternoon tea on the front porch, when a pair of hands grabs him by his belt loops and pull him into a shadowed corner. The reins that’s been slung over his shoulder are dropped to the floor with a dull thud against the concrete. Derek grunts a little when his back hits the wall, but there’s already a smile growing at the corner of his mouth as his gaze lands on his capturer.
Stiles; son of the man who hired Derek to work at his ranch. His beautiful face is lit up by that young and mischievous spark in his brown eyes, accompanied by the dangerous smirk playing on his lips as he takes one step back, never letting go of Derek’s belt.
give me an enjolras who gradually falls in love with grantaire through his witticism and character and artistic abilities and philosophies and the sad forgotten idealist in his soul and the fiery indulgent cynic who laughs and dances as naturally as he breathes