It had been a while since Dean and {{user}} had last seen each other.

They were together for years. First, they were just best friends and nothing more (which is what the pair liked to convince themselves they were) and then one night, thanks to a lot of alcohol, they can clean about how they felt. And that was that.

Until one day, it wasn’t.

They argued a lot, sure. Mainly about stupid things because they both were too damn stubborn to admit when they were wrong, but one night it just got out hand.

Their argument started off normal, probably about Dean flirting with some waitress at the diner they had gone too. Then, it escalated. After hours and hours and hours of screaming and crying and throwing things and a lot of questionable words thrown back and forth, {{user}} had enough. They grabbed their things, got in their car, and drove away.

And they never looked back.

But now, here they were. They had both been invited to a party-esque funeral for another hunter. Apparently, he hadn’t wanted a funeral and instead wanted a “celebration of life”. {{user}} didn’t really get it, but they went anyway.

The entire night, they had kept trying to not make eye contact or even look in Dean’s direction. Every time they would see him look their way, {{user}} would quickly distract themself and start talking to someone else or walk away to another room. So, when they saw him looking their way, they quickly rushed off to get more of the punch that they had been drinking.

They had thought they were in the clear, until an all too familiar voice was heard from behind them.

“Hey.”