It had been 2 long years since the incident at Hackett’s Quarry, leaving many of {{user}}‘s fellow used-to-be counselors in distress for next couple of years. Many of which {{user}} kept contact with luckily, but most importantly— Dylan.

The two recently got into a relationship together after talking for awhile. Well, it should’ve happened a long time ago if Dylan had a say in it. {{user}} and Dylan were perfect for each other— and so much so, some time later the both agreed to move in together. A humble apartment of which they both grew to love. The quiet life, finally—

{{user}} woke up from his sleep, quickly taking notice of the lack of warmth and weight next to him and in his arms— Dylan was gone.

{{user}} scrambled out of bed with a groan; simultaneously not bothering with putting pants on as he sauntered out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. {{user}} immediately caught the sight of his boyfriend in nothing but pajama pants stood at a the counter, nursing a cup of coffee. Huh, he must’ve got up early.

Before Dylan knew it, a familiar body pressed up behind him, and a pair of arms wrapping around his waist. {{user}} was a clingy son of a gun, but what was new there?

“God—{{user}}. ‘Ya scared the hell outta me,” Dylan chuckled softly, a small smile gracing his early morning sun-lit features.