Archive of Our Own

No matter how much time someone spends in a place, there are always secrets to uncover. There might be an old historical house that you somehow have never heard of. Your childhood summer camp might have been run by incredibly hungry werewolves. Or two towns over, there might still be a surviving video rental store serving a dwindling customer base that still owns DVD players.

(Or like, a gaming console, that can play blurays, which no one ever uses it to do)

Ok so, the thing was, Dylan knew how to pirate a movie. Like, intellectually knew. Or he knew how to find out how to pirate a movie. But like, it was so much easier to just search for a movie on Youtube or Archive.org. So when both failed to reveal to him a watchable copy of Vampyros Lesbos with subtitles, he just gave up. Like, even Dailymotion failed him! He was ready to watch the tiniest, most pixelated version of a movie possible, and the internet could not even provide that to him.

Which, back up further, he didn’t even pick the movie. Kaitlyn had insisted they go all in on lesbian vampire movies this month for their horror movie nights, and he’d agreed because like, hell yeah gay horror, and also because she promised to watch Love Bites (1992) so that he got to see trashy vampire horror with dicks fully out. It evened out. That was the real lesbian and gay solidarity.

But Kaitlyn hadn’t fully accepted defeat, she never did, annoying, and asked, “Do you think that relic of a video rental store will have it?”

Dylan stared at her.

“What video rental store?”

“Oh my god, the one on that back road that cuts around the town to avoid the traffic?”

“You drive on that road? That’s like, a serial killer road. There are like, no streetlights and it’s full of potholes. You’re gonna pop a tire and then a serial killer is going to jump out and get you Kaitlyn,” Dylan said, reasonably.

It was Kaitlyn’s turn to stare at him.

“What the fuck are you taking about, dude,” She shook her head, “No, actually, I’m not gonna get into it. There’s a video rental store there. You have a PS4, we can play DVDs. We can play blurays. We could, for once, watch a movie in sweet crisp high definition.”

“Tempting,” Dylan told her, “but I think the pixelation really adds something. It’s an experience.”

“Dylan, you are going to the video rental place and coming back with a lesbian horror movie.” Kaitlyn ordered.

Dylan whined.

“What if they don’t even cater to lesbians. What if they only have horror for straight men who hate lesbians,” he tried.

“Then you can get Jennifer’s Body.”

Well. He had not argument for that with that. He didn't want to go out though. He wanted to lie on the couch and smoke weed and eat pizza. He looked plaintively at her, one last try to appeal to her nonexistent kindness, but she just looked at him evenly and settled further into the couch. He gasped, in over-exaggerated offense.

“You’re not even gonna come with me?”

“Nah, I’m too comfy,” she said smugly.

“Who will protect me from the serial killers?”

“Damn, guess you’ll die. It wasn’t nice knowing you.”

He laughed and accepted defeat, shuffling around the house to find his jacket and keys. After he shrugged his coat on, he saluted her with his prosthetic hand. She didn’t bother to look.

“Wow, this is your last chance to see me before I’m horrifically murdered by serial killers in the woods, and you won’t even look at me,” Dylan tried.

She threw a pillow at him.

“Ok, ok, sheesh! I’ll be back in twenty! Don’t eat all the snacks!”

“I will!” She called back, laughing.

The video rental store was way nicer than Dylan had thought it would be. It had really stylish signage, it was well lit, it looked inviting. It didn’t look like the kind of place he would get murdered in, which was a very good start.

He did, real quick, triple check the moon (not full), before hurrying out of the dark and into its brightly lit interior.

Inside, there was no one. Which really undercut the initial friendly impression. There was some good music playing in the background, which almost evened out the liminal space murder vibes, but not quite. It was definitely open, the sign said open until ten, so hopefully whoever was working had just stepped out for a smoke break.

He crept quietly through the store, both keeping an eye out for anything Wrong and also on high alert for the incredibly slim chance this small town video rental store had a good horror section. He turned a corner, putting a wall between him and the checkout. He chewed at his lip as he rapidly scanned the shelves.

Jackpot.

They had a good horror section. There was a huge selection of B Movies, and some pre-code Hollywood film, and yes, Vampyros Lesbos. He eagerly snatched it up, the uneasy atmosphere scattering at his unlikely victory. They had Jennifer’s Body too, so he grabbed that. Kaitlyn was gonna be so proud of him.

He hummed along with the music and approached the checkout. There was still no one there. He patiently and studiously read all the signage while he waited for an employee to show. Reading the entire late fee and rental policy got him nowhere. There was a little bell on the counter, but it felt rude to ring it. But also he really wanted to ring the bell. Who didn’t want to ring a bell when they saw a bell? He rang the bell.

Ryan Erzahler walked out of the back room.

Dylan made a noise that no one would ever classify as speech.

It startled Ryan. He met Dylan’s eyes and his own widened in recognition.

“Oh,” was all he said.

Dylan was going to die. He was going to be eaten by the floor and die. This was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Seeing the lifeless bodies of Caleb and Kaylee Hackett was nothing to him right now. Having his hand bit by a werewolf was actually fine! Nothing was worse than running into the guy you flirted with so hard for two months and who you gave your number to before the both of you were arrested and then never getting a call after you were released.

“Wow, you’re even hotter than before,” Dylan said, instead of saying two DVDs please! Like someone who was normal.

Ryan stared hard at him. He seemed uncertain, and Dylan was ready to just leave. He could tell Kaitlyn the rental place was closed, permanently, haunted actually, and she should never go check it out because it was full of ghosts.

“For a second I was worried you’d turned straight,” Ryan said awkwardly.

“What.”

Ryan tapped the DVDs. “It was, uh, a joke. You’re checking out two movies about hot women…”

“They’re gay movies,” Dylan told him, seriously.

Now Ryan looked like he wanted to die, to melt into the floor, which was an improvement. At least now they were both suffering. 

“I know that,” Ryan said in a strained voice. “It was a joke about the male gaze?”

“It’s like 9 PM, Ryan, class is not in session, no bad jokes based in academic theory after school hours. Plus it’s like, Jennifer’s Body, c’mon man.”

“Uh, sorry,” he said awkwardly.

They both stood in an uncomfortable silence. Normally Dylan would have broken the tension with more jokes, but he wasn’t sure what he was allowed with Ryan. Nothing, probably.

“Two DVDs, please,” he finally tried, like he should have from the start.

“Oh! Right! Uhm. It’ll be ten bucks. Or you can get a monthly membership for $35 and get unlimited rentals for the month.”

Dylan fished out a crumpled ten from his jean pocket and deposited it on the counter.

“Ten's fine. I don’t need the monthly, I won’t be back,” Dylan told him.

“Well…you do have to return the movies in five days,” Ryan said, his expression completely unreadable. Dylan was just imagining any hurt. He was projecting, probably.

“Right. Of course. I’m definitely going to return them.”

“Oh my god, please return them.”

“Yeah. Sure. Of course. I totally will.”

Dylan grinned at him, snatched up the DVDs, and slipped out of the rental store with an awkward wave and teasing grin. Ryan watched him go with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape, obviously about to try to get an assurance that Dylan wasn’t going to steal his DVDs.

He wasn’t going to breathe a word about this to Kaitlyn.

Dylan went back.

Of course he went back, he could never resist Ryan. The knowledge that Ryan was just a few miles from him at any given moment was intoxicating. It had been so many years, his crush should have faded just like his anger and sorrow about his hand. And yet. And yet.

It was easy to convince Kaitlyn of this new arrangement of renting DVDs. Apparently they both vastly preferred to watch movies the way they were meant to be seen: crystal clear and unpixelated. Neither of them were willing to learn how to pirate, and they had enough money to afford it, so Dylan was now armed with an excuse to go look at Ryan regularly.

It was a lot harder to convince Kaitlyn not to come with him.

“I don’t know why you are being so weird about this,” she groaned, trying to grab her sweater out of Dylan’s hand. He had it balled up around one fist and was holding it high over her head like a schoolyard bully.

“You didn’t want to come with me last time and now I’ve grown up to be an independent young man. I don’t need my mom chaperoning me at the store!” He said.

“Ew! Gross! What is your problem!” She complained, not giving up on trying to climb him for her coat.

“I want to surprise you with a movie! Isn’t that more fun? And you don’t even have to leave the house. I’m such a good roommate,” he tried.

“Oh my god,” she said, suddenly jumping back, “Is there a hot cashier there you are trying to fuck?”

Dylan jumped on the opening.

“Yes. Yes there is. He is so hot and I’m so horny. I haven’t had sex in months. I’m going to convince him to fuck me using my impeccable charm and exquisite taste in film.”

“Oh my god, disgusting, ok you win, I do not want to be there to witness that,” she conceded.

He was free to go make a fool of himself in front of the hottest man he had ever met. Really, he was sparing Kaitlyn from the awkwardness of seeing someone from camp. Neither of them had wanted to spend more time with their old coworkers, traumatic event uniting them or not. They had not really been friends. People drift. He didn’t have to be friends with Nick just because they had both been bitten by werewolves.

Ryan could be, maybe, hopefully, be different. If he played his cards just right. At the very least maybe he would be down to fuck and then then Dylan could waste away pining over him for the rest of his life. He could shrivel into a sad Victorian ghost living in a lighthouse waiting futilely for her lover to return from sea.

Perfect. Good plan.

He dropped Vampyros Lesbos and Jennifer’s Body off on the counter, and headed immediately back to the horror section. Once again the shop appeared deserted, but now Dylan knew how to summon Ryan now. He could build up his nerve while staring at the cover of Suspiria (1977) .

He’d thought Ryan had been into him at camp. He had been sure he’d been picking up signals. He briefly and unpleasantly considered the tidea that maybe Ryan stopped being attracted to him the moment he lost a hand, but he discarded the thought almost immediately. Ryan didn’t seem like the type. Anyone could be the type, he supposed, but he trusted Ryan. It’s just. He didn’t understand. He'd never figured it out.

Suspiria (1977) gave him no answers.

He put it back and grabbed House (1977) . He needed something more lighthearted.

He took it up to the checkout, and rang the bell. As expected, out came Ryan. Exactly as planned.

“I thought you said you were never coming back,” Ryan said dryly. It could have been mean, it was just on the edge of it, but Dylan thought he might still be a Ryan expert, despite over six years of absence. There was the ghost of a smile on his face.

“Yeah, but like, your late fees are killer. I didn’t need the movie police knocking at my door to shake me down, y’know?” Dylan joked.

Ryan looked like he almost laughed. Which was a win.

“I don’t call the cops on people,” Ryan told him, with that almost smile he does when he was trying not to let Dylan know he thought he was funny. It was cute. How was he still so cute?

“Yeah, I think we’ve had more than enough experience with cops to radicalize us,” Dylan said, daring to reference their past.

Ryan actually laughed this time.

“For real,” he said. Ryan paused, then leaned forward conspiratorially and said, “Did you hear that Nick Furcillo became a cop?”

Dylan gasped.

“No way dude! What! How did that happen!”

“Apparently he wanted to ‘help’ people after everything that happened to him.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, I’m only hearing this secondhand. Laura told me.”

Instantly, Dylan’s mood soured. You give a guy your number, you let a guy save your life through the most intimate act of cutting off your werewolf-infected hand, and he ditches you for the hot girl in an eyepatch who already has a boyfriend. They were probably all having hot throuple sex. Unfair.

“Ah. Cool.” Dylan said. Ryan seemed to read the change in mood immediately, his own expression closed off. Doomed to be awkward with one another every time, huh? Unfortunately, Dylan was going to keep coming back.

“It’ll be $5. Due in five days,” Ryan eventually said when Dylan didn’t make any effort to fix the atmosphere.

Dylan raised his eyebrow.

“I’ll pay for the monthly pass. It’s $35, right?”

“I thought you said you were never coming back?” Ryan sighed.

“Yeah, but like, I have to return this movie,” Dylan tapped Suspiria twice with his prosthetic hand. It made a satisfying tap tap noise. “And then when I come back, what am I gonna do? Not rent another movie?  I’ll have come all this way.”

“That’s a pretty good argument,” Ryan said, visibly relaxing as the tension started to dissipate again. “Ok, $25. And it’s still due in five days.”

“Oh?” Dylan crooned, “What’s this? A discount? Wow you must think I’m really hot, to give me a discount. Don’t worry, it’s working. I’m a cheap date for you.”

Ryan looked like he regretted it. Dylan couldn’t keep the smirk off his face, and leaned on the counter as seductively as possible. Maybe like, maybe even if he was dating Laura he was poly and Dylan still had a chance. It wouldn’t quite be the dynamic he was angling for, but he was open to it.

“I’m just discounting what you paid last time, since you’re a friend,” Ryan said in a stilted voice. He seemed to recover after a moment though, because he added, “ I’m an expensive date. It’s gonna take more than a few DVD rentals to charm my shirt off.”

“Ok,” Dylan said, his brain ceased to function. “Ok, okay, okaaay. Alright. Just your shirt?”

“Pants cost extra and I don’t want to scare you off,” Ryan said in that voice, the one where he was very obviously trying not to laugh, but his usual monotone couldn’t quite contain it.

“I think you will find, I am very hard to scare,” Dylan lied, dropping $30 on the counter. “The extra five is going towards the pants fund.”

He scooped up his movie and darted out of the store before Ryan could formulate a response.

Dylan didn’t even wait the full five days to return the movie. He wasn’t impatient, really. He wasn’t desperate to see Ryan again. It was simply that he and Kaitlyn had watched Suspiria that night and they both had enough time to watch another movie. It was the economical choice to get another movie. He had to get the most out of his $35.

He wasn’t like, that hard up on cash. The show he hosted on the local radio station paid okay, and his job as a daytime audio tech for the station paid even better, so like, taking a loss on the movie rentals wouldn’t be the end of the world. But it was very important to be smart with your money. No need to waste it when you could rent one DVD at a time and instead waste it on gas driving back and forth–

Yeah so two days had passed and he was back. Fingers crossed that Ryan was always working the evening shift.

It appeared he was.

“Hi Ryan,” he greeted, dropping a copy of The Love Witch on the counter next to Suspiria. “What do I owe you?”

“Uhm,” Ryan answered, collecting up the copy of Suspiria to return it to the shelf, “nothing? You bought a membership?”

“How am I supposed to save up for naked Ryan if you don’t charge me anything?” Dylan retorted. Ryan groaned. He opened his mouth to say something, obviously exasperated, but at the last second seemed to change his mind.

“You’ll just have to work at it. Keep coming every month until those $35 charges add up to it?”

“Hmm,” Dylan said, “I want to talk to the manager. I think his fees are too low.”

“You’re talking to him,” Ryan said, with the glee that every retail employee gets when they get to shut a customer down.

“I want to talk to the owner then,” Dylan escalated.

“Damn,” Ryan said pityingly, “You’re already talking to him.”

Dylan blinked.

“Wait, really? How’d that happen? There has to be a story there. I thought you wanted to go to art school?”

Ryan shrugged, and for a moment Dylan thought that would be it. It was a rude question for him to ask, but he was nosy. But then Ryan opened up, just a bit.

“I did. Go to art school that is. And I was good at it, but it’s hard to make enough money off it and make the stuff you want to make and keep from burning out. So I started working here so I could make enough money to live and make what I wanted to make off the clock. And then the owner retired and just…Gave me the business.” He looked sheepish. “For some reason, people trust me to keep things running.”

“Well,” Dylan drawled, “you do have a really good track record of holding down the fort when it all goes to shit. Like, I trust you to do amateur surgery on me, so like, a video rental store seems like a cakewalk in comparison.”

“You definitely should not have trusted me to do amateur surgery on you,” Ryan groaned.

“Nah, that was a good call by me. I’m like, way hotter now? And I don’t even cry when I get tattoos now.”

“You cry–” Ryan cut himself off, “You have more tattoos?”

“Oh damn, sorry bud, you can’t see them until you also get naked.” Dylan snickered.

Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Lecher,” Ryan said fondly.

“You know it.” Dylan smiled. “Now where can I see your artwork?”

“You really don’t have to,” Ryan said, endearingly self-conscious in that way some artists were, “If you just google my name though, my website should come up.”

Dylan immediately whipped out his phone and googled him.

“Shit! This is really good!” Dylan told him, clicking through to look closely at an animated illustration. “I can’t believe you animate your paintings?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ryan rub the back of his neck and avoid looking at him. Cute.

“Yeah…I never could give up animation…”

“This fucks, man.” Dylan said. “Like, I’m so glad you make these instead of whatever was burning you out. You’re really good.”

“Thank you,” Ryan said quietly. He looked pleased. He looked embarrassed. Dylan adored him. Dylan hoped so desperately that Ryan adored him in return.

“Ok,” Dylan said, putting on a serious voice, “I’m gonna get out of your hair so you can stand there and think about how great I am. And in my absence your heart will grow fonder. And by the time I come back you will have fallen hopelessly in love with me.”

Ryan laughed.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to stay away long enough for me to miss you.” He smirked. Dylan was going to die. Ryan was so hot.

“Just you wait! In a week, you’re gonna be pacing like, where is Dylan, his DVDs are two days overdue.”

Ryan laughed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he called after Dylan, as he left the store.

The thing is, Dylan really did mean to come back the next day, but he and Kaitlyn didn’t get to The Love Witch until the night after that, and then the following day was the full moon. It didn’t matter how many years passed, neither he nor Kaitlyn could bring themselves to leave the house on the night of a full moon.

He wondered if the others were the same. Or maybe therapy had worked differently for them. It was hard to do therapy when you had to lie to your therapist about exactly how you lost a hand. And exactly how five people died.

Four days passed before he made it back to Ryan’s store. Which, would have been a reasonable amount of time, a normal amount of times between visits, but he had meant to sneak in a visit before the full moon.

He was always just a bit melancholy after. Even the days following full moon put him on edge. He jogged through the dark parking lot to the brightly lit store, eyes on the woods until he was safely inside.

As usual, Ryan was nowhere to be seen when Dylan entered the store.

One day Ryan was totally going to get robbed, and he wouldn’t even notice. He would just obliviously be in the backroom listening to horror podcasts or whatever and some swamp creature would come in and steal all his cash. And then probably eat Ryan.

He grabbed Happy Death Day without really thinking about it, and trotted over to the counter. Rang the bell. Ryan stepped out. He looked tired.

“Hey man. Bad Night?” Dylan greeted.

“Yeah, I don’t sleep well on the full moon.” Ryan admitted.

“What a crazy coincidence. I don’t either. We should've huddled for warmth together.”

“What?” Ryan said, face scrunching, “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It makes perfect sense. Though I guess you weren’t alone.”

Ryan looked even more confused.

“You had like, Laura, yeah?” Dylan clarified, exasperation leaking into his tone against his will.

“What are you talking about?” Ryan asked. He was staring very hard at Dylan.

“You and Laura got together that night. Sparks flew or whatever. Her sexy pirate eyepatch and attitude swept you off your feet and you literally rode off into the sunset together.” Dylan reminded him.

“Laura has a boyfriend!”

“A person can have more than one boyfriend,” Dylan defended, his confidence a little shaken. He’d missed something.

“I thought we were flirting,” Ryan said, sounding hurt.

“We definitely are,” Dylan explained, “Like I said, a person can have more than one partner. I thought maybe you were in the market for another.”

“I’m not dating Laura. Or Max.” Ryan gritted out.

“Huh. Weird. I thought–”

“You thought wrong.”

"Well, you weren't exactly reciprocating!" Dylan argued, frustrated.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

“Well, for one, I kinda thought, hoped, that after I sent all the evidence into Bizarre Yet Bonafide , you would reach out.”

“What?” Ryan asked, startled.

“You didn’t figure out it was me? Who else would it have been? I don’t think anyone else would have done it.”

“No, I–,” Ryan paused, swallowed, looked away, “After that night. I stopped listening to it. I stopped having anything to do with all horror.”

“Oh,” Dylan said, staring at the copy of Happy Death Day he’d been intending to flirt over.

“After that night, I was in a really bad place. I didn’t want to date anyone. I killed my mentor. I cut your hand off. I didn’t think anyone wanted anything to do with me, except maybe Laura and Max. And I didn’t even want to talk to them. They just wouldn’t leave me alone.” Ryan wasn’t looking him in the eye. That was good. That made it easier.

“It really sucked.” Dylan told him. “We all went through terrible shit that night, not just you. Kaitlyn killed Caleb! You ghosted me after you cut off my hand! It felt a little personal.”

Ryan shifted on his feet, obviously frustrated, but unwilling to cause a scene in the store. Which Dylan would sympathize with if he’d ever seen another customer in here this late. Why did Ryan even keep it open so late? Wait, that was not the focus. Stay focused.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Ryan sighed. “I just was in my own head. And I never fit in quite right with the rest of the group. I wanted to just move past it. And then I couldn’t. I’m still scared of the full moon.”

“Me too,” Dylan sighed, anger leaving him immediately. He’d been mad, back then, he’d been furious and heartbroken and struggling with his new disability. And then the anger and grief had faded. He wasn’t really still angry, but he could remember the hurt. Pick the wound open if he let himself. He didn’t want to. They had all struggled.

“Kaitlyn is scared of it too,” Dylan added, after a moment.

“You still talk to her?” Ryan said in surprise.

“Yeah, she was my friend, like you. Now she and I are maladjusted roommates.”

“I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure if I was also just a coworker to you. Someone to flirt with to pass the time at work. I’m sorry I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

“Well,” Dylan dragged out the word, “I guess I should apologize for not trying harder to see you. To be honest, I was so fucked up back then. It’s probably better we didn’t get together back then.”

Ryan laughed bitterly.

“That would have been a disaster. It would have been explosively bad.”

“The sex would have been good though,” Dylan sighed with a put-on forlorn sigh, aiming to lighten the mood.

“We were eighteen! And traumatized! The sex would have been so bad,” Ryan said, aghast.

“Speak for yourself. I would have rocked your world.” Dylan boasted.

“Oh my god. You’re the worst.”

“I don’t know, you seem kind of into it,” Dylan wheedled. Then, “You are into it, right?”

“I’m certainly not asking you to stop,” Ryan answered, amused.

Dylan smirked at him. He wanted to keep flirting, to make sure they really were okay, but it was getting late and he didn’t want Kaitlyn asking him any questions. He picked up Happy Death Day and gestured towards the door.

“I gotta get back, Kaitlyn is waiting to watch this with me. But uh, you should invite me back to yours one night. We can watch something not scary.” Dylan said, as he walked backwards to the door.

“Smooth,” Ryan said dryly, “Maybe I’ll let you pick a horror movie if you promise to hold me through it.”

“Oooooh, a classic romance trope, I’m into it.”

“Shut up!” Ryan called as the door closed. If the door wasn’t clear glass and Ryan couldn’t see directly through it to the parking lot, Dylan absolutely would have done a victorious fist pump the moment he walked outside.

He contained himself until he was in the car, where he whooped in overflowing joy.

They settled into a companionable routine over the next few months. Dylan would come once a week to grab a movie or two, flirt terribly with Ryan, and leave without taking anything too far. It was nice. Dylan hadn’t realized how much he had missed Ryan. He’d only known him for those two months at camp, and while they had grown close then, it was still only two months.

Sometimes it takes no time at all to bond with someone. It was good. He was happy to reconnect with an old friend.

He did, however, think that after all these months, they could, perhaps, hang out. Like, outside of a DVD rental store setting.

So this time, he came right before close and bee-lined to the counter and rang the bell without grabbing a new movie. Ryan dutifully stepped out of the backroom, and Dylan wondered if anyone else worked here.

“What do you do back there?” he asked immediately, all his other plans forgotten in the wake of solving a mystery.

“Uhm. It’s my house.”

“Oh!” Dylan said, startled, “Perfect!”

Ryan waited for more.

“Wait, you live here? There is a whole house attached to this building? How did I never notice?” Dylan didn’t even wait for an answer. He went outside to check. He circled the building. It was very brave of him, he deserved an award, it was dark and cold out and the moon was perfectly round. He came back inside. Ryan looked fond and exasperated.

“There is a whole house,” Dylan reported.

“Woah, who would have known,” Ryan deadpanned. “What did you mean by ‘perfect’?”

“I really would like to get into the whole attached house thing, address how you live out here on this creepy murder road, but we can do your thing, I guess.”

“It’s literally your thing. You’re the one who said perfect and didn’t elaborate. And I have a bad feeling there is something to elaborate on,” Ryan said warily. 

“I’m free tonight,” Dylan told him, meaningfully, “Kaitlyn’s shacked up with some girl she met online, which leaves me alone on this dreadful full moon.”

“Ok?” Ryan answered.

“So it’s a great night to invite me back to yours.”

Ryan stared at him.

“Did you just invite yourself over? You found out where I live and immediately invited yourself over?” Ryan said through a disbelieving laugh.

“Well, someone has to take initiative, Ryan” Dylan told him through a smile, “And I suspect you’ve had enough initiative for a lifetime.”

“Oh my god,” Ryan sighed, smiling, “You might be right.”

“I promise I’ll be a good little boy scout.” Dylan implored, “I’ll keep my hands to myself and we can watch something disgustingly peaceful. Like The Cat Returns.”

Ryan very obviously could not stop from smiling. Dylan wanted to devour him, he wanted to feel his smile against his lips, he wanted to feel his joy against his body. He was going to be good though. He wasn’t going to push outside the boundary of suggestive words unless Ryan gave him the go ahead. Horny pining was fun in its own way anyways.

“I didn’t say you had to keep your hands to yourself,” Ryan said, mischief creeping into his voice.

Which, well, alright then.

“Yes to The Cat Returns though, huh?”

“To be honest, I’d rather not watch anything about anthropomorphic animals tonight,” Ryan admitted.

“Yeah that’s totally fair. I love horror, but I can’t do werewolf movies. Freaks me out way too much,” Dylan confessed, “Wanna do a sappy romcom? 10 Things I Hate About You? I can tell you all about my theory that Patrick ends up a trans lesbian.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Ryan said, gesturing for Dylan to follow him out of the store and into his home.

It was cozy inside, all outdated but charming wood paneled walls covered in a variety of cheaply framed art. There was a kitchenette that opened out into the living room, and a small dining room table tucked into the corner. A couch generously covered in pillows and blankets faced a moderately sized TV.

Dylan flopped on the couch.

“Make yourself at home,” Ryan said dryly.

“Don’t worry, tu casa es mi casa,” he said with a smirk, “Oh! Do you have any roommates?”

“Nope,” Ryan said, popping the p, “Hang tight, I’m gonna go lock up the store and grab the movie. Do you need anything?”

“Just you!”

Ryan rolled his eyes and left the way he came.

Dylan hopped up off the couch and immediately took the opportunity to snoop. What did Ryan expect? He always took advantage of an empty room.

He started in the kitchenette, poking through the cupboards to find beautiful mismatched dishware. His pantry was decently stocked, but his fridge was nearly empty. He went back to the living room. There was a record player with a basic crate full of records next to it. It was an eclectic selection, but all good music. Ryan always had good taste.

There were no DVDs, but that made sense. He probably didn’t need his own. There was a modest bookshelf, with a selection of fiction novels, mostly mysteries, and a couple of art theory books. Between the books were ceramic vases and figures that Dylan suspected were gifts from friends at art school.

The art on the walls too, probably, now that he thought about it.

He poked his head into one room, and found the bathroom. It was done entirely in a mint green tile that Dylan was sure was ancient. Another door led to a closet, which sadly did not hide a secret room. The third door was the bedroom.

He was debating snooping further, when Ryan finally came back.

“Are you going through all my things?” Ryan asked. There was a note of fondness there. Dylan was positive he could hear it.

“Yeah, what did you expect me to do, all alone in an empty room?” Dylan shot back, meandering back to the couch and lounging on it. 

“I don’t know. Wait patiently like a normal person?” Ryan tried, while going to set up the movie.

“That can’t be true, you know I’m not a normal person.” Dylan gasped. “Oh! You were hoping I would surprise you by undressing and seducing you. I’m so sorry. Give me another chance. I’ll get it right this time.”

Ryan sat next to him on the couch. Their thighs touched. Dylan’s entire focus zeroed in on that spot.

“You’re so embarrassing,” Ryan told him.

“You were the one thinking it.”

“I–I was not!”

“Mmhmm, sure. Put the movie on. I need to watch it try to convince me Kat isn’t a lesbian.” Dylan demanded.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” Ryan hit play and they both fell quiet.

It was nice, the feeling of Ryan touching him. The way the room behind him was dimly lit and none of the windows let the bright light of the moon in. The film filled the space with light and noise. It anchored Dylan. It felt safe, on a night that so rarely did.

He leaned his head on Ryan’s shoulder, feeling bold. Ryan let him. They both kept their eyes on the TV.

At the forty-five minute mark, Dylan got bored. This wasn't really out of the ordinary. Horror kept him on the edge of his seat, attention focused on the rising tension, the illusion of danger, and thoughts about how he would act in if he were a character in the movie. However, for most other things his attention tapped out around this time. He always paused, did something else, and came back later. Or, just as likely, forgot to ever finish the movie.

He lasted another fifteen minutes before it was unbearable.

Dylan slipped a hand under Ryan’s t-shirt, and rubbed an idle pattern on his waist. He’d said...He’d definitely said Dylan didn’t have to keep his hands to himself. He turned just slightly, to check Ryan’s face.

He hadn’t reacted.

Interesting.

He turned his head down, so his breath would be hot and wet on Ryan’s neck. His lips just barely avoided touching him. Ryan still didn’t react.

He slipped his hand further up Ryan’s shirt, mapping his stomach first with light touches, then more firm, and then moving up to give his chest the same treatment. His hand ghosted over one of Ryan’s nipples and Ryan gasped. He pretended not to notice, continued to explore, pressed a finger against his clavicle, before dragging his hand back down.

Ryan was breathing a little heavier now. Dylan felt his heart beat a little faster. He squeezed a nipple. Ryan groaned.

“Stop teasing,” he grumbled.

“Oh?” Dylan said, smile audible in his voice, “Should I stop?”

There was a moment of silence that Dylan knew was an eye roll.

“What do you want then, hmm?” Dylan pressed, “Consent is sexy.”

“Somehow I think you’re less interested in being respectful right now and more interested in making me beg,” Ryan accused.

Which, well, he had him there.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dylan said in a falsely innocent tone. He still had Ryan’s nipple in his fingers, and he was trying to be patient, but he couldn’t help but keep rolling it lightly in his fingers. It was making Ryan squirm. Which was really hot.

“Fuck,” Ryan groaned, “Just kiss me already.”

Dylan happily obliged.

He kept his hand on Ryan’s chest, but looped his other arm around Ryan’s neck to pull him down. Their lips met gently, sweetly. It felt nice, it felt romantic. A slight release of tension.

A slight release of tension.

Dylan turned the kiss filthy. He sucked on Ryan’s bottom lip, and rolled Ryan’s nipple between his fingers. Ryan moaned, and matched Dylan’s enthusiasm. The kiss turned open mouthed and hot, and Dylan clambered on top of Ryan for better leverage. One of Ryan’s hands clung to the back of Dylan’s head, and the other gripped hard on his shoulder.

Dylan felt anchored into place. Exactly where he should be.

Too soon, he needed air. He didn’t want to breathe. He wanted to be subsumed by Ryan. He wanted to be connected at this point forever. He needed air. He wanted to crawl inside him. He broke the kiss reluctantly, and they looked at each other, breathing harshly. Ryan’s pupils were blown wide. He already looked ravished. Dylan was going to devour him.

He kissed him again, pulled at his bottom lip with his teeth until it was swollen, and then kissed the corner of his mouth, his chin, down his neck, the place where his collar bone poked out of his shirt. Then he moved back up, to suck a hickey under his jaw.

“Oh my god,” Ryan groaned, “how old are you?”

“Hickeys are hot at all ages,” Dylan said, pulling back, “Do you not want any? I can stop.”

“Please don’t stop,” Ryan begged.

Dylan dove back in, nipped at the spot, sucked, and laved his tongue soothingly over it. When he was satisfied, he moved down his neck to leave a few more.

“Wanna leave one on me?” Dylan offered, when he was done.

“It’s gonna be way more obvious on you,” Ryan said cautiously, but he leaned forward anyway.

“Oh no! Awful! People will know I’ve had sex! Terrible! It’s the end of the world,” Dylan said sarcastically. Ryan laughed, his breath ghosting over Dylan’s neck. He was addicted to the feeling of it.

Dylan moaned encouragingly, while Ryan sucked a matching bruise under Dylan’s jaw. He removed his hand from under Ryan’s shirt, to hold his head in place, and shifted their bodies closer together, into a more comfortable position.

Dylan felt his thigh drag over Ryan’s cock, which made Ryan beak off to moan. Dylan grinned.

“Hey, buddy, you need some help there?” He brought his hand down to the waistband on Ryan’s jeans, but politely stopped there. He was respectful!

Ryan looked at him plaintively. Dylan just raised an eyebrow.

“I was kinda hoping you’d fuck me,” Ryan rasped.

“I’m definitely into that,” Dylan said nodding, “I can definitely do that.”

“Should we, uh, relocate?”

“Yep! Yup! Definitely! I know where the bedroom is,” Dylan said, getting off Ryan. “You should also take your clothes off.”

They hurried to the bedroom ungracefully. Dylan shucking his shirt off and leaving it on the floor, and Ryan stumbling out of his jeans. Dylan waited until they were in the bedroom to look at Ryan through lidded eyes and ask,

“A little help?”

Ryan dropped to his knees, his hands went to Dylan’s hips. He met Dylan’s eyes, looking for permission. Dylan nodded, breath alluding him, and Ryan unbuttoned his jeans. Tugged them down. Urged Dylan to lift one foot, then the other, to tug his pants and boxers free.

Anticipation pooled.

Ryan got distracted by the abstract tattoo on Dylan's thigh.

"Who designed this? It's beautiful" He asked quietly.

"Dude, my dick is right there, pretty as can be. I promise we can talk tattoos later."

Ryan took the head of Dylan’s cock into his mouth.

That felt good. It looked good, the head of his dick holding Ryan’s mouth open. The way his kiss-swollen lips spread around it. The faint strain on Ryan’s face as he bobbed forward to take more in.

Dylan reached down and thumbed Ryan’s lip. Ryan curled his tongue around Dylan’s cock in response, and both of them moaned.

Ryan started in earnest then, and Dylan had to lean back and brace himself against the wall to keep his knees from going weak. Ryan had brought one hand up to work the base of Dylan’s erection, and that combined with the suction made Dylan’s mind blank out. He cradled Ryan’s cheek in his hand and babbled nonsense.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so good, nngh, you’re so hot, you look so good like this, I could stay like this forever, nnn, it’s like you went to blowjob school–”

Ryan pulled off him to give him an unimpressed look.

“Really? Blowjob school? That’s your definition of dirty talk?” Ryan complained.

“How can you expect me to come up with good material when you’re rocking my world!” Dylan complained, idly palming his cock since Ryan was going to neglect him.

Ryan batted his hands away. 

“Try harder!” Ryan complained, instead of ordering Dylan to be quiet. Both of them knew it would be futile. Dylan was trying not to laugh, but it was hard. Ryan stares him down as he leaned back in, daring Dylan to say something foolish. Dylan dutifully kept quiet.

Ryan took Dylan down further this time, and Dylan’s hand immediately felt its way back to Ryan’s cheek, then further down, to rest harmlessly against the column of Ryan’s throat. He wondered if he’d be able to feel his cock, if Ryan took him deep into his throat, and then, when Ryan cupped and gently squeezed his balls, Dylan thought of nothing at all.

Pleasure was pooling in his belly. It traveled down his spine and up from his toes to settle heavy in his core. He desperately wanted to let it build, to let it crest, to feel himself spill down Ryan’s throat, but he distantly remembered that he wanted to fuck Ryan. He couldn’t come yet.

He gently pushed Ryan off. He went easily, sitting back and looking smug. His gloating aura was undercut a bit by how painfully hard his cock looked and the way spit glistened on his swollen lips.

Dylan focused on that, ignoring his own desperation as best as he was able.

“You definitely look like you need some help,” Dylan said, sinking to his own knees to reach for Ryan’s erection. He stroked it a few times, and Ryan tipped his head against his. Their heavy breaths mingled. Dylan stole a kiss. Then another. He pressed a finger just slightly under Ryan’s foreskin, causing the other man to jolt into the next kiss. Hot.

“You got lube and condoms?” Dylan asked between kisses.

“Yeah,” Ryan gasped, “I’ll grab them.”

Dylan let go of him, and they both stood on shaky legs. Dylan giggled.

“Gotta get our sea legs to be good seamen!” Dylan told him.

Ryan groaned loudly, from where he was rummaging through the nightstand.

“I hate you,” he said, “That wasn’t even good. It doesn’t–What does it even have to do with anything.”

“You shiver me timbers,” Dylan said, faux serious, from where he was now seated on the bed. Ryan silenced him with a biting kiss, and dumped the condoms and lube on Dylan’s lap. Dylan looked at them and frowned.

“I’m gonna need a little help with these,” he said, holding up the squeeze bottle.

“Oh shit, yeah, I’ll help,” Ryan said, taking them back. He sat against the headboard, and tore the condom package open.

Dylan leaned back, and looked at Ryan through lidded eyes. His cock standing obnoxious and proud between them. Ryan looked exasperated, but he obliged him, leaning over and putting the condom on clinically. Dylan pouted. Ryan pumped his cock once, twice, three times, until the pout was wiped away.

“Ok, how do you wanna do this?” Dylan asked once he took his hand away.

“I am, uh, pretty flexible, if you want me on my back. You can almost bend me in half?” Ryan offered. “I’ve tried to stay reasonably fit these past years.”

“That’s hot! I want to do that,” Dylan blurted, “I have not stayed fit. I’m 100% hot, tall, lanky flab.”

Ryan slid down the bed a bit, so that his head wouldn’t knock against the headboard. He lifted his knees up, feet planted on the bed. Dylan happily planted himself between his thighs.

“Hey, babe,” Dylan grinned.

“Gross.”

“Could you give a guy a bit of lube?”

“Not if you’re gonna be gross.”

Dylan could barely contain his smile, but he tried. He leaned over Ryan, his prosthetic hand braced next to his head, and his fingers pressing against Ryan’s lips. He tugged slightly, at the swollen and bitten bottom lip. Ryan let his mouth fall open just enough. He pressed two fingers in, past his teeth, to press firmly against his tongue.

Ryan groaned, and gently pressed his teeth against Dylan’s knuckles. It wasn’t a threat, he was just holding his fingers gently, while his tongue swirled obligingly around his fingers. He let Ryan suck at his fingers at his own pace for only a few moments before he used them to fuck in and out of his mouth.

Ryan’s eyes fluttered shut like he was overwhelmed, which made Dylan feel overwhelmed. He pulled free, and Ryan whined, whined, at the loss.

“You’re gonna kill me,” Dylan gasped.

“Not before you fuck me, please.”

“Then I’m gonna need that lube, unless you want me to try and do it with just this spit, but I don’t think either of us really wants that. I mean, if you do, you gotta let me know. I can only guess like, half your kinks. Communication is closest to godliness, or whatever.”

“Cleanliness,” Ryan corrected, tugging Dylan’s hand over to squirt a generous amount of lube.

“That’s definitely not clean,” Dylan replied. “Can I get some for my dick too?”

“I really need you to work on the dirty talk,” Ryan sighed. He squeezed more lube into his hand, then wrapped it around Dylan’s cock. He pumped it a few times, obviously enjoying the way it made him gasp. After a moment of thought, he reached for Dylan’s hand and spread the lube over his fingers.

“I coulda done that, but thank you, such a gentleman,” Dylan praised, “Now lie back, so I can blas–”

“Don’t!”

“Fair! It wasn’t gonna be good!”

Dylan apologized by pressing a slick finger to Ryan’s rim, circling it in warning, before pushing firmly in. He liked fingering people, but he was feeling urgent tonight. He was eager to get to it. He could fuck Ryan just on his fingers over and over again another night. Now, he just wanted to prepare him quickly and efficiently. He wanted to be inside him as soon as possible.

He was tight, but he opened easily. One finger quickly became two, then three. Ryan was gasping beneath him.

“Did you fuck yourself open often, thinking of me?” Dylan asked, pulling his fingers out.

Ryan swore at the loss, and Dylan watched his hole flutter. He pressed a finger just in the rim again to tease, and Ryan whined beautifully.

“Did you use a dildo, or just your fingers?” Dylan added.

“Why are you like this?” Ryan asked.

“I saw your dick twitch. This is doing it for you.” Dylan accused.

“Please just fuck me already,” Ryan demanded.

And well, Dylan aimed to please.

He lined up his cock and pressed it against Ryan’s entrance. He opened easily to him, tight, but easy to press firmly into. Ryan was making punched out little gasping noises that Dylan didn’t think he was fully aware of. To be fair, Dylan was pretty sure he was making an embarrassing noise too.

He bottomed out, fully inside of Ryan, and had to take a moment to just feel that way he fluttered and clenched around him. Ryan also seemed to need a moment to adjust to the feeling of being completely filled.

“You feel amazing,” Dylan told him.

Ryan just groaned, and clenched tighter around him.

“You good?” Dylan asked, becoming desperate to move, but keeping himself still.

“Yeah,” Ryan gasped.

“Can I fuck you?” 

“Please.”

Dylan pulled back and fucked him hard. He didn’t have the patience–neither of them did–to start slow and work their way up to it. They had been building to this moment for months, or years. There would be time for slow. Now, now Dylan wanted to see Ryan ruined. He wanted him squirming and gasping and overwhelmed with sensation, with him.

Ryan braced one hand against the headboard to anchor himself in place, and the other, the other he had put over his lower abdomen, like he was trying to feel Dylan’s cock piercing him from the outside as well as the inside.

It was too much. It wasn’t enough. He pulled out, and Ryan cried out.

“Shh, shh, one second.” Dylan soothed.

He grabbed Ryan’s under the knees, gingerly, his prosthetic could grip things, but sometimes it gripped too hard, so it was better to err on the side of caution, and pushed his knees and hips up. He watched with wide eyes, at how far Ryan could bend. It wasn’t a porn star amount, but it was way more than Dylan could have handled.

He hooked his legs over his shoulders so they would stay without having to waste a hand.

“This okay?” He asked, breathless.

“Yeah,” Ryan rasped.

“Cool,” Dylan murmured distractedly, and thrust firmly back into him. With the new angle he got Ryan’s prostate immediately. Beneath him, Ryan shuddered violently and his back curled up off the bed. His hand had slipped from the headboard and was now tangled tightly in the sheets.

Dylan couldn’t spare an arm or hand to do anything more than brace himself over Ryan and fuck him hard. It didn’t seem to matter. Ryan was gasping and squirming beneath him, lost to the pleasure. Dylan couldn’t have made any jokes if he wanted. His mouth was dry, his voice stolen, watching Ryan gone on his cock.

It pushed him over the edge sooner than he wanted. He thrust deep and came hard enough to chase all coherency from his mind. He was distantly aware that he was chanting Ryan’s name like a prayer, but all he knew were relentless waves of pleasure as he spilled deep inside him.

It took a bit before coherency returned to him. Ryan was panting, obviously close. It wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge.

Dylan let him sit on that edge, taking a moment to pull out and tie off the condom. His hole twitched at the loss, begging to be filled, and Dylan mourned the fact he definitely wasn’t going to stick his prosthetic fingers in him to fuck his hole while he stroked his cock with his other hand. It was too hard to clean. He was pretty sure think it would not feel great either.

Instead, he swallowed down Ryan’s cock in one smooth gesture. He couldn’t deep throat it for long, but it wasn’t going to take Ryan long.

His hips snapped forward before Dylan could brace his arm over him to hold him down. It made his eyes water. He could hear Ryan trying to apologize, which wouldn’t do at all. He redoubled his efforts, bobbing his head, and pressing two of his fingers into him in one easy slide.

Ryan came immediately, spilling down Dylan’s throat. Dylan dutifully swallowed it all, and sucked him through every last twitch before pulling off.

“Fuck,” was all Ryan said. It was all he seemed capable of saying.

“I already did,” Dylan sing-songed, making Ryan groan. “Do you want me again? You’re so demanding.”

“No,” Ryan groaned, half out of it, “I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Ugh, same,” Dylan agreed, slotting himself next to Ryan. Ryan flopped an exhausted arm over him, and pressed his face into his neck. Dylan silently applauded himself for not getting cum anywhere on the bed, so that they could immediately drift off.

Despite everything, neither of them could easily fall asleep on the full moon. It was a little bit of their ever present anxiety, but now mixed with the giddy energy of new lovers. Neither of them thought they would get this. Now they had it. It was hard to fall asleep when thinking about your lover.

Ryan was curled around Dylan’s back. Dylan was valiantly pretending to be a little guy, a tiny spoon. When Ryan spoke, he could feel his voice rumble through his skin.

“You know, last week, Kaityln came by.” Ryan told him.

“Excuse me! What! That sneaky liar! She didn’t tell me!” Dylan dislodged Ryan’s arm to roll over and face him. Ryan looked amused.

“She said she was there to get a movie for a date and check out, and I quote, Dylan’s new boy toy,” Ryan said.

“You’re not my boy toy babe,” Dylan assured, “You’re my…man…friend…”

“Great. Good job. Just what I wanted to hear. That’s what every kid dreams about.”

“I work all afternoon at the radio station, making jokes to the listeners, and then I come home to my husband, exhausted, and make sweet love to him, and he expects me to be coherent still? To make good jokes? To invent sappy alternatives to boy toy?”

“Wow, I don’t even know where to start with that,” Ryan laughed.

“Ugh, I’m so glad you also have a terrible sense of humor. No one else could tolerate us.” 

Dylan sweetly kissed Ryan on the clavicle. Ryan smiled, looking unbearably affectionate, so Dylan bit him.

“Ow! Why are you a biter!” Ryan complained.

“Feels good,” Dylan explained, but he looked carefully at Ryan, assessing him. “Does it bother you? I don't have to.”

Ryan hummed, thinking about it. Dylan waited, a little anxious, but patient.

“It doesn’t bother me,” Ryan eventually said, “I thought it would? But it feels safe with you. Did I tell you, that night, Laura bit me?”

A momentary spike of panic went through Dylan, before he remembered it was fine. Ryan was not a werewolf. The original werewolf was dead. That one incredibly sketchy cop told him that, and nothing seemed to indicate that he was lying, but he worried.

“I didn’t know. Did you turn?” Dylan said softly.

“No. I’d been stabbed. I was going to die. She bit me to keep me alive. She was still human looking at the time, and about thirty minutes later I killed Chris and the curse was broken,” he explained.

Dylan lay silent for a bit, trying to sort through all this new information. He hadn’t known Ryan had been the one to pull the trigger, to kill Mr. H, until that argument, months ago. At the time, too much was happening for him to fully process it, but it had sat at the back of his mind. He hadn't known how to bring it up, how to ask.

Now he was hearing that Ryan had been fatally stabbed too? That he had been infected with the werewolf’s curse? 

He’d learned a lot from the evidence he made copies of for the podcast, but it hadn’t filled in all the blanks. All he’d figured out was someone killed Chris Hackett. Someone killed Bobby, Constance, and Jedediah Hackett. And someone killed the original wolf, Silas.

“A lot happened that night, huh,” Dylan said, “You got fatally stabbed? ”

“Yeah, I uh, yeah. It sucked.”

“I bet.” Dylan sighed. “I’m sorry you had to kill Mr. H. You shouldn’t have had to do that.”

“I shouldn’t have,” Ryan agreed with a sigh. “I watched Laura and Chris kill Bobby, Constance, and Jedediah too. That was the worst night of my life.”

“Well, at least you’ve got it out of the way, y’know? No worst night of your life ahead of you.”

Ryan laughed, it was a sad thing. Dylan rubbed his side soothingly.

“I’m kinda bad at opening up about serious shit,” Dylan told him.

“Me too.”

“But we shoul probably, on like, not the full moon, tell each other what happened and how we feel about it. Because I have a feeling you never really talked about it with Laura or Max–” Ryan looked sheepish, “–and I can tell you Kaitlyn and I don’t talk about it.”

“Are you 100% positive I can’t just start watching horror movies to cope, like you guys?” Ryan tried.

Dylan laughed in his face.

“Dude! That’s not it at all! You absolutely cannot! We can watch chill movies where I get bored an hour in and then I fuck you or you fuck me or you tell me to fuck off!”

Ryan rolled his eyes, but as usual he couldn’t contain his smile. For a brief smug moment, Dylan thought to himself, Damn, he’s so into me.

“Ok,” Ryan allowed, “but I do want to know what horror movies do for you. I don’t get it. They just freak me out and make me remember bad things now. I liked them before, but…”

“It makes me feel in control,” Dylan said, “like, for one, I didn’t watch any real people die or have to kill someone important to me. I just, for the most part, had to run from one werewolf and let Kaitlyn do the hard stuff.”

Ryan nodded.

“So like, I don’t know, that whole night felt so out of control? I like watching a movie, where it’s all contained. Where the scary thing can be vanquished by turning the TV off. Where I can pick apart the logic of the movie too, and think about what I would do in that scenario. Like what I would actually do. And like, it’s fun to be scared, for harmless reasons.”

“Oh,” Ryan whispered, “I don’t think they’ll ever be that for me.”

“That’s fine, dude. I have Kaitlyn to be a freak with. And like, I don’t know, I get it. I can’t watch werewolf movies. And I hate the sound of chainsaws. I’ll never be able to watch Chainsaw Man,” Dylan told him mournfully. That startled a laugh out of Ryan.

“That was your pull? Over Texas Chainsaw Massacre ?” he said.

“Wow, sue me for pulling the most recent chainsaw themed piece of media that people love,” Dylan complained.

Ryan laughed harder.

“I can’t believe you, wow, I’m breaking up with you, you’ll never have this rockin’ bod ever again,” Dylan wailed in false misery.

“Good thing I’m in a throuple with Laura and Max,” Ryan said. Dylan howled with laughter. He could barely speak through his giggles.

“Fuck, that is so embarrassing. That’s like the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever thought. I can’t believe I thought that.”

“It was pretty embarrassing,” Ryan agreed. “Laura is like, the last person I would want to fuck.”

“The last person? Now you have to list everyone we went to camp with in order of least fuckable to most fuckable,” Dylan begged.

“I’m not doing that!”

“If you don’t do it, I will,” Dylan threatened.

“How is that a threat?” Ryan asked.

“I’ll include Mr. H on the list.”

“Ok, I don’t want to know. It’s like 3am. Please don’t keep me up thinking about Chris Hackett as a subject of attraction.”

“Ugh, fine,” Dylan relented, “but this isn’t over. You’re just buying yourself time to think about it. I’m going to ask you again tomorrow for a list and you better be ready.”

Ryan ignored him.

Instead, Ryan pulled the blanket up over them. The weight of it settled Dylan immediately, who snuggled into Ryan’s chest. He curled up slightly so his knees knocked against Ryan’s thighs. It was cozy and safe. Between fucking and chatting while Ryan was lying obliviously fucked out, Dylan had removed his prosthetic, and set it on the side table. His other hand was tangled with one of Ryan’s.

He squeezed it. Ryan squeezed back.

He fell asleep quickly and dreamed, wonderfully, of nothing at all.