Fool For You

by Trappers_Cake_Appreciator

Summary:

A second chance at a normal life is given, although they don't remember The Fog. Except for Evan, who runs into Dwight at work and offers him a job. Then Dwight starts having nightmares. Will Evan be alone with his memories, or will he give in and try to help Dwight remember?

Chapter 1

In the vast, black expanse of nothingness, the blindingly bright blue portal emits a deep hum as Survivors gather around it and the mysterious, white-robed strangers surrounding it. Once everyone is accounted for, one of the strangers steps forward and extends their hand to the portal.
“This will take you back to your worlds. But most of you will not return alive, for your souls are far too damaged. Are you ready to embrace the finality of death?” Dwight looks around and raises his hand.
“What about the others?” The stranger tilts their head.
“Of whom do you speak of?” Dwight rubs the back of his neck.
“I think…I think that some of the Killers would want to escape too.” Some other survivors shake their heads at Dwight, while Claudette looks approvingly at him.

“If you would extend such a mercy, just think of them and they will come.” The Trapper is the first to appear, manifesting in front of them, out of thin air. The Wraith and The Spirit appear next, sound of mind, freed of the influence of The Entity. A few others follow, and the stranger explains to them about what is ahead. Dwight stares at The Trapper as he begins to walk away. “W-where are you going?” He asks.
“I don’t deserve it,” Trapper responds coldly.
“But I know you hate it here too!” Dwight protests, balling his hands into fists.

Dwight runs up and grabs Trapper’s arm. “Please! Haven’t we all suffered enough!?” Trapper turns around and stares him down. Dwight swallows hard and looks him in the eyes. “Leave with us,” he says softly. He feels the eyes of the other survivors watching him. A stranger speaks up: “You will return to death as well, large one. What a toll your soul has paid!” Trapper flinches at hearing this and looks down to Dwight’s hand. He thinks it over.

“If that’s the case, then fine. I’ll go to Hell where I belong.” Dwight shakes his head.
“Don’t say that. This place was Hell enough! For all of us, including you!” Trapper sighs and Dwight walks back to the portal, with Trapper following behind. Dwight faces the crowd. “Everyone, despite our situation, it was great knowing you all! I hope we all get the rest that we deserve.” He turns to his first three friends of the Fog and tears well up in his eyes. “Well, this is it! Group hug?” He tries to play it cool while they hug but once the cool-headed Jake chokes up, Dwight lets the tears roll and the sobs out. Meg and Claudette cry too, then everyone else cries tears of relief.

“We’ll never forget each other, right?” Claudette says, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
“Never!” Meg declares, sniffling.
“Never,” Jake replies.
After the tearful goodbyes wrap up, the first four volunteer to go in first.
“You’re coming with us,” Dwight orders Trapper, refusing to give him a chance to sneak away.
Trapper steps forward. Dwight extends his hand for a handshake.
“I wish we knew each other under better circumstances.” The Trapper stares, drops his weapon to the floor, slips off his mask, and accepts his hand.
“Yeah.”
The five of them step through.

***

On a cloudy Thursday in late April, the sun peeks through the clouds in the city of Portland. Dwight adjusts his crooked, black-rimmed glasses as he climbs off of his bike, his insulated backpack heavy with food to deliver. He locks it up at a post and takes his helmet off as he looks up at the large office building. He glances at his phone to see what floor he needs to go to.

“Elevator it is,” he groans. Elevators make him sick, but he’s not about to go up twenty flights of stairs to avoid one. The glass doors open as he approaches, and Dwight feels underdressed as he sees all of the suits going in and out. He looks down. He’s wearing black bike shorts, a zip-up gray hoodie under a reflective orange safety vest, and dirty white sneakers. He shrugs off the embarrassment as he walks through the doors and approaches the elevators.

He sees one closing its doors and breaks into a jog. “Hold the elevator, please!” He yells as he extends out his arm, knowing that he’s running behind schedule. To his relief, the person inside presses the button to open, and he makes it inside. “Whew, thanks so much!”
“Floor?” He hears a deep, coarse voice ask, making him jump. “Um, twenty-one,” he responds, too scared to look over at the man as he reaches out his hand to press the button.

Dwight finally musters up the courage to look to his right and is greeted with the intimidating sight of a colossal pale man, muscular and over six-and-a-half feet tall, wearing a suit and a coat that looked very expensive. His hair is dark and slicked back, his face is stern and handsome. He looks down at Dwight and Dwight’s eyes dart forward. From the corner of his eye, he can see he’s being stared down.

“Hey, you.” the man eventually says. Dwight flinches again. Dwight now understands why this elevator was empty despite so many people waiting.
“Um, yes sir?” Dwight glances over nervously, fiddling with his zipper pull. After a long pause the man speaks again.
“Do you want a job?” Dwight is taken aback.
“Huh?” The man slips his hand into his pocket and pulls out a fancy business card.
“I’m looking for a new personal assistant. You seem capable enough.” Capable? What made Dwight seem capable? Was it because he got into the scariest elevator ever? He’s handed the business card.

Dwight looks into his steel blue eyes as he accepts it, his stomach in knots.
“Uh, okay, cool. Uh, thanks.” Dwight feels like an idiot, unable to speak professionally or casually.
“What’s your name?” The immense man asks.
“Uh, I-I’m Dwight. Dwight Morley.” After a pause, the man extends his hand for a handshake.

“Evan.” Dwight accepts his hand and attempts the best handshake he can. Evan’s grip is as firm and intimidating as he is, but Dwight manages a smile through his fear.
“Nice to meet you, Evan!” The elevator dings and the doors open at Dwight’s floor, and he steps out with a wave behind him.
“Call me,” he hears before the doors close.
“Okay, what cubicle was it again?” He checks his phone for the number. He thinks back to what other button was lit on the elevator. Was it the top floor? Is Evan a really important person? What does he want with him?

After a long day of smelling food he can’t afford, Dwight reaches his apartment at night. He’s not sure if his roommates are home or not, the place being dark and quiet. Maybe they went out without him? Not that he would mind. Their schedules rarely line up, after all. He heads into his room with his bike and after setting it in the corner and kicking out the stand, he collapses on his bed, dropping his helmet on the floor. “What a weird day,” he mumbles to himself. He slips his hand in his pocket and pulls out the card, looking it over. It’s thick cardstock, with fancy embossed lettering. The faded logo at the center of the card is an M. At the bottom reads
“Evan Millan” along with an email address ending with “millan-industries.”

Is he the head honcho or something? But he looked so young. Is his parent the leader? Dwight wonders what kind of business it is and looks it up online. What comes up for results is a lot of construction images. Dwight doesn’t know anything about construction, one of the few fields he doesn’t have any experience in. He looks at the time on his phone, 9:32pm. He decides to watch TV for a while before going to bed around midnight.

That night, Dwight has a horrible nightmare. Dwight stands in a pine tree forest all alone. It’s nighttime, the air is cool, and the moon is full, casting a blue light. He sees some broken down brick buildings nearby and goes to investigate the largest one. It looks like a factory inside, with a rusted staircase heading up to a walkway hanging around a suspended vat. He finds a strange hook on the first floor and goes to investigate. Snap! A sharp jolt of pain shoots up his leg and he yells. He looks down to see his leg mangled in a rusty bear trap. He panics, desperately clawing at it to pry it off, but his blood makes it too slippery, and its jaws are far too strong.

His heart is racing, beating in his ears. A terrible sense of dread washes over him, growing worse by the second. The moonlight is blocked by the shape of an immense man, but they feel more like a beast. They swing something that shines in the light and Dwight is struck down in a single blow, the pain overwhelming him. He’s picked up off the ground with ease and thrown onto the same hook he was looking at. Dwight’s screams echo throughout the forest as the hook pierces his flesh, rending his muscles as it comes out the other side of his shoulder.

He bolts up out of bed in a cold sweat and grabs at his shoulder. Nothing is there, but the pain felt so real. His throat hurts and he wonders if he screamed in his sleep. None of his roommates came running in, so maybe he was in the clear. He checks his phone, It’s around 4am. He climbs out of bed to head into the kitchen to get some water, wondering if what he was watching on TV was too tense for him. He goes back to bed and doesn’t remember what he dreamed of next.

Morning comes, another cool and cloudy day. Dwight clears his throat, picks up the business card from his nightstand, and calls the number from it.
“Evan Millan speaking.” Dwight is surprised that he picked up so fast and quickly tries to compose himself.
“Uh h-hi, this is uh, Dwight from yesterday? From the elevator,” Dwight feels stupid already. “Yeah?” Evan responds.
“I was calling about your job offer and would like to um, schedule an interview?”
“No interview is needed. I saw your resume online. It’s good enough for me. Can you start Monday?” Dwight is stunned.
“As in, three days from now, Monday?”
“Yeah.” Dwight thinks for a moment, him not knowing if no interview is a good sign or not.
“Uh, sure!”
“Okay. Be here at 8:30. Wear a suit. Bye.” Evan hangs up as Dwight stares into space.

Dwight walks into the kitchen and finds two of his three roommates, Greta and James, eating breakfast together.
“Hey guys,” he greets them with a yawn as he opens the fridge to grab the milk. Greta points out the milk on the counter.
“Geez, you’re up early,” she comments.
“Really?” He checks his phone, it’s around 7. “Oh.” He’s now worried that he called Evan too early, but shrugs it off because he answered so readily. James pauses eating his toast,
“Who were you talking to earlier?”

“Oh uh, this guy Evan. I um, have a new job now, I guess?” James puts down the toast.
“Huh?”
“You didn’t even tell us about an interview!” Greta whines. Dwight chooses what cereal he wants and pours it into a bowl.
“There, uh, wasn’t one.” During the commotion, Claudette leaves her room.
“What’s going on?” She asks, cleaning her glasses on her shirt. James turns to her in his chair. “Dwight got a job.”
“Oh really? That’s great, Dwight! What kind of job is it?” Dwight sits down at the table. “Personal Assistant.” Greta folds her arms.
“With no interview.”
“Yup.”
“That’s crazy.”

Dwight remembers his nightmare.
“Oh yeah, did I, uh, scream during the night at all?”
James looks over to him,
“I thought I heard something. Figured I imagined it.” Dwight feels embarrassed.
“Sorry, I had a nightmare.” Claudette makes a face of worry.
“I’m sorry, do you wanna talk about it?”
“No, it’s…it’s fine. I’m fine.” They all get ready for their days of work ahead, except for Dwight, who instead stays home to study up on what exactly a personal assistant does.

Chapter 2

Monday arrives, and James gives Dwight a ride to the office. Dwight had borrowed a suit from his father; he’s glad he hasn’t torn a new hole in it like last time. He thinks about how he should get a new car when he can. The glass doors don’t open for him because it’s so early. He watches as others open them with a keycard, which he doesn’t have yet. He feels awkward slipping in after someone else, so he decides to use the call box. After a minute of scrolling, he finds Evan’s name and calls him.
“Yes?” He answers curtly.
“Um, it’s Dwight. Can you let me in, please?”
“Alright.” With a long beep the doors unlock, and Dwight enters.

Once inside, the elevator doors open and Evan walks out, surprising Dwight. Dwight walks up to him and Evan looks him over. “Hm. This won’t do,” Evan comments.
“What?” Dwight looks down at his suit; it’s too old, long and ill-fitting. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t have time to get a new one.” In truth, he doesn’t have enough money.
“Come with me,” Evan walks to the exit and Dwight follows like a nervous duckling, unsure if he’s being escorted out of the building, not getting the job after all. “We’re getting you a new one.” Dwight swallows his pride and speaks up.
“Um, I don’t have enough for one right now.”
“That’s fine, I’ll cover it. Pay me back later.” Dwight is surprised once again. Is his scary new boss actually nice? He shouldn’t get his hopes up so quickly.

A fancy car pulls over and Evan climbs in, and Dwight follows. “We’re going to my Tailor.” The driver nods and starts to drive. A Tailor? That sounds expensive. How long would it take for Dwight to pay him back? He fights off the urge to bite at his nails on the way, trying to look calm.
The drive is tense and quiet, but thankfully fairly short, only about five minutes. They climb out of the car and go inside. The floors are a beautiful black marble and the desk an expensive-looking dark wood. Behind the front desk are walls lined with racks and racks of suit jackets of all sizes, colors, and fabrics. Dwight gets worried about prices again.

“Welcome, Mr. Millan! How may I help you today?” A man greets them at the door, wearing a form-fitting yellow suit.
“We’re getting a suit for him,” Evan gestures at Dwight. The man looks him over and nearly snorts at him.
“I see. Do you have your measurements?” Evan glances at Dwight.
“Uh, no,” Dwight responds, looking down at the ground.
“No problem, just take your jacket off and we’ll get started.”

Dwight slips it off, and Evan takes it from him without Dwight asking.
“Oh, thanks!” The man directs Dwight to follow him to an area in front of a large mirror, and Evan waits at the door. Dwight listens to instructions and stretches out his arms, looking over at Evan as his measurements are taken. This is the first time he’s had his measurements taken since that dreadful Play in high school. Evan slips an earpiece into his ear and speaks to someone quietly. Work has already started for him, Dwight supposes.

Once the measurements are taken Dwight walks back to the front of the store where Evan is and takes back his jacket.
“Alright. Okay. Bye,” he hangs up his call. “What color do you want?” Evan asks.
“Black is fine.”
“Just plain black?”
“Yeah.”
“Wait here.” Evan walks to the back where the man went, to discuss the details, Dwight assumes. He waits for a few minutes until they both return, and Evan pays at the desk. “Okay, let’s go. It’ll be ready in four weeks.” The same car is waiting for them out front, and they climb inside. Dwight clears his throat.
“So, how much was it?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Evan replies, typing away on his phone. Dwight worries about it. They arrive back at the office and Evan uses a keycard to get them inside. The elevator ride is silent as they take it to the second-to-top floor. “This is where you’ll be doing most of your work,” Evan gestures to a large desk outside of his office. “You good with a computer?” He asks, walking Dwight to the PC and waking it from sleep.
“I think so, yeah.”
“Here are the main programs you’ll be using,” he opens up an application showing a schedule, and a couple others, “and you answer the phone over there when it rings. It’ll usually be me or a client calling to make an appointment.”

He shows Dwight how to enter and edit appointments. “You’ll also be in charge of running errands, like when I need files picked up, and things like coffee and food.” Evan notices Dwight writing on a small notepad. Dwight finishes writing and looks up at him expectantly. Evan looks at the door next to the desk. “My office is here. Don’t knock. Call or text me when you need to. But I expect you can handle this work?” Dwight stops writing again.
“How do I tell you when you have an appointment or a visitor?” “I’ll get pop-ups on my phone as it’s connected, but you can double-check with me by text. Any other questions?” Dwight folds his arms and thinks it over for a moment.

“I can’t think of anything else right now.”
“Okay, now I’ll be calling some people, and I want you to listen to how I schedule an appointment with a client.” Dwight nods and sits down at the computer. He writes down Evan’s phone conversations to form into a loose script for later.
Evan enters his office, and Dwight sits there doing nothing, only getting three phone calls over the span of four hours. The phone rings at noon, and it’s Evan. “Go down to the first-floor coffee shop and get me the regular for Evan. They’ll know what it is. Get something for you too.” Dwight does so without a hitch, getting a large coconut latte and an egg sandwich for himself.

The rest of the day is uneventful, and Evan finally emerges from his office at 5. “Ready to pay me back for that suit and lunch?” He asks, putting on his fancy black coat.
“Uhh, W-what?” Dwight stutters, now too scared to move from his desk. He only has a few dollars to his name. Evan smirks.
“Get drinks with me.” Dwight sighs a breath of relief and hunches over the desk for a moment before composing himself.
“Okay, sounds good, Mr. Millan,” Dwight smiles at him.
“Call me Evan.” On the elevator ride down, Evan looks up local bars and clubs on his phone. He chooses one Dwight hasn’t heard of as they wait for a car to arrive up front.

Dwight cringes at the price of drinks and thinks of his poor wallet. “Order what you want, I got it. Special occasion, after all.” Dwight feels guilty about all of the money he’s spent today, not even knowing the whole amount. He’ll have to ask for an honest answer later to pay him back for real. “Thank you for today,” Dwight smiles, finally choosing to order a pina colada to match Evan’s other classic drink, a Manhattan.
“No problem. So, tell me about yourself, Dwight.” Evan asks, turning his bar seat to look at him better. Dwight cringes at the question, considering himself to be an uninteresting person.

“Uhh, there’s not much to say, really.”
“What do you like to do?”
“I like to watch TV and play video games, uhh, I like to eat a lot.” Evan chuckles.
“Eat what foods?”
“Pretty much anything,” Dwight fiddles with the napkin sitting on the bar counter. “Italian, Mexican,” he counts on his fingers, “Japanese, Chinese, Greek, and junk food.”
“What’s your family like?”
“I have two parents that are recently divorced and remarried, I have two siblings, a younger brother and sister, and a few step siblings that I don’t know.” Evan’s drink arrives and he takes a sip while thinking of more questions.

Dwight’s drink arrives soon after, Dwight takes a sip then asks, “What about you?” Evan sighs.
“I work a lot, so I don’t have much time for anything else. But when I get a chance to do anything more involved than watching TV, I like to create art.”
“Oo, art? What kind?”
“Mostly just sketches,” he stirs his drink. “Sometimes clay sculpting,” Dwight briefly thinks of the scene from that movie Ghost and dismisses it out of his mind before his imagination takes hold. “Sometimes I weld pieces.”
“That sounds so cool! Can I see some of it sometime?”
“Maybe,” Evan replies after thinking about it. Dwight takes another sip.
“What’s your family like?”

“I’m from my father’s second marriage. My father got mad that his first wife was only giving him daughters, so he divorced her and tried with someone else.”
“Oh, jeez.”
“Yeah. Better than murder, at least.”
“Hm?”
“Nothing. Anyway, I have three older half-sisters.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-three.”
“About six years older than me.” Dwight assumed Evan was even older.
“What kind of music do you like?” Dwight thinks it over.
“I mostly like older stuff, like The Killers.”
“The Killers?” Evan smiles into his drink, amused.
“Yeah, I know it’s before my time, but it still sounds so good! I even listen to some really old stuff, like The Raspberries.”
“What time are they from?”
“The 90s. From my parents’ time.”

“Your parents time, huh? I enjoy older music, myself.”
“Like what?” Dwight pulls the stem from his drinks’ cherry and slips it in his mouth.
“1960s and 70s rock.”
“Dang, that’s really really old. What are you, a vampire?” Evan laughs.
“Something like that.” Dwight pulls out a knotted stem and places it on the counter before eating the cherry.
“Your job seems old for you, too. How’d you become a COO so early? I didn’t even know COO was a job before today, honestly.”

“My father runs the company, he's the CEO. He raised me to take over someday.” Dwight nods in understanding. Evan finishes his drink and sighs, “Pardon me if this is too personal, but what’s your type?”
“My type? Like, type of girl?”
“Yeah.” Dwight thinks for a while.

“Caitlyn Donnes. She’s an indie country singer.” Evan laughs. “Why’s that funny?” Dwight questions.
“Nothing, nothing, I just know who she is. Interesting choice.”
“I’ve never met someone that knew her! What about you, do you have a type?”
“...I’ve never really thought about it,” Evan lies, signaling the bartender for another drink with his hand. Evan’s phone rings and he answers it. “I’ll be right back,” he tells Dwight before heading outside. Dwight orders another drink as he waits.

“I’ll have to head back to the office, it seems I forgot something,” he says as he walks back in. “Can you get home okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll ask my roommate for a ride.” Evan pays the tab.
“Alright, see you tomorrow.” Dwight waves,
“Thanks again! See you tomorrow.” Dwight finishes his drink alone and pulls out his phone to text the group chat. He laments the state of his wallet, being unable to afford a rideshare. He’ll ask either Greta or Claudette to get him when they can.

That night, Dwight has another terrible nightmare. He’s in the same pine tree woods as before, hiding behind some trees as he hears a distant scream, then he watches a machine whir to life by some strangers. Suddenly, the silhouette of the man from before appears, his mask appearing from the shadows. With barely a struggle, he picks up the woman and shoves her onto a hook. The smaller man falls to the floor in shock, and Dwight looks away as he’s struck down. Dwight musters up the courage to approach and try to get the girl down, but steps on a branch.

The monster stops under the light, turning his head. He drops the man and charges at Dwight, who then runs for his life. He’s never been more afraid; his heart pounds in his ears as the beast catches up and strikes him once, causing him to stumble and trip. He nearly lands face-first into a bear trap. He stumbles back onto his feet but is struck down again. He rolls over onto his back before getting picked up by his shirt and thrown over the hulking man’s shoulder. He’s grabbed off of it after a few steps and feels the stab of the cold metal break his skin. He wakes up, drenched in sweat and out of breath.

Four weeks pass, and Dwight is ordered to pick up his new suit, with Evan’s card. Dwight can’t believe his eyes when he sees the price.
“How much is it!?” he asks in disbelief.
“It was paid half upfront, so that’s all you owe today.” Three thousand, and five hundred dollars. And that’s only half! He wonders why Evan would consider getting drinks together as payback. He must be absolutely loaded. He changes into the suit in the store. Dwight still feels bad, but he looks like a million bucks.
“Looks good,” Evan comments when he sees it at lunch. Dwight turns red.
“Thanks!”

Chapter 3

It’s now June, and work is going well. Dwight has gotten used to his new job, and he appreciates the high pay. How did he get so lucky? Evan comes out of his office at noon, and Dwight puts down the pen he was playing with, sitting up straight and trying to look busy at the computer.
“Dwight, would you like to take the day off tomorrow?” Dwight is surprised.
“Uh, what for?” Evan leans over on the desk.
“Stanley Cup Finals.”
“I-is that hockey?”
“Yup. I have two tickets, but my business partner dropped out. The flight is at 9:30 in the morning. You interested? It’s special seating.” Dwight wonders why he doesn’t ask a friend or girlfriend instead. He probably has a girlfriend, right? He figures that he probably shouldn’t assume things.

Dwight doesn’t know a thing about hockey.
“Uh, sure! Sounds fun.” He hadn’t hung out with Evan since they went drinking a month ago, and he would like to get to know him better. Evan stands up straight.
“Alright, meet me at the airport at 6. Or do you need a ride?” Evan must have noticed that Dwight doesn’t drive himself.
“No, it’s fine, I’ll get a ride, thanks.” Dwight doesn’t own any luggage, and he doesn’t want to borrow from his roommates. He’ll have to buy some after work. One should be fine, right? “Wait, how much is the plane ticket?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Evan waves it off and gets on the elevator.

He tells his roommates about his trip and Greta says she’s jealous, being the only hockey fan in the apartment. Claudette is happy that he gets to go on a trip so spontaneously. James is too busy with work to respond. Night comes and Dwight can’t sleep, he’s still having those nightmares every night. Thankfully he doesn’t remember all of them, but it’s starting to take a toll on his mental health. Why is it always the same scenario, with the same masked man?

His alarm goes off after Dwight gets about an hour of sleep. He thinks about cancelling the trip, but he wouldn’t dare do that to his boss. He’s seen him get mad before and doesn’t want to be the one to inflict that. His heart always pounds in his ears when he hears him angry. Dwight rubs his eyes before putting on his glasses. He desperately needs coffee. He smells the coffee being made. He forgot to set the alarm to start the coffee maker; he assumes that Claudette must have set it for him. He’ll have to remember to thank her later.

“You look tired,” Evan comments when Dwight trudges up to him at the front of the airport. They walk to check-in together.
“Yeah, I didn’t really sleep,” Dwight laughs sheepishly.
“Why’s that?” Evan asks.
“I keep having these…stupid nightmares,” he shares. Dwight finds out they’re flying first-class and gets a little excited; getting treated like a rich person is still a new thing for him.
“What are they about?” Evan inquires.
“Oh, nothing much, just like, being chased by a madman with a machete, like those Friday the 13th movies.” Evan stops walking and Dwight does too without noticing. “I haven’t seen those movies in years, and they weren’t particularly scary, so why the nightmares now I wonder?”

“It’s not even the right mask,” he continues. They begin walking again.
“What does the mask look like?” Evan asks apprehensively.
“Uhh, white and toothy?”
“Hm.”
“Am I dreaming about a different slasher film that I don’t remember, you think?”
“Maybe.” Evan goes quiet after that until they board the plane and Dwight feels tense. Once on the plane, they both relax a bit. “About those dreams,” Evan says, clearing his throat. “Have you thought about going to a therapist? That might help.” Dwight thinks about it.
“I don’t know if I can afford that,” he responds.

“It’s not that much.” Dwight isn’t sure how much is considered not much to Evan. Evan clears his throat again. “I actually have a lot of nightmares too. I see a therapist for them.”
“Does it help?” Evan pauses and folds his arms.
“...Not much, but it might help you more.” Dwight sighs, disappointed. “Actually,” Evan continues, “Therapy should be covered by your insurance now.” Dwight perks up.
“Really?”
“Mhm. Look it up when we land.” Dwight is happy there might be a cure for his nightmares but tries to not get his hopes up too much.

The plane ride is quiet after that, Dwight just plays handheld games, and Evan reads something on his tablet. In a few hours they land without any problems and get a taxi ride to the hotel to check-in for their room. The hotel is huge and expensive-looking to Dwight, who then looks up the hotel online to check the prices after the car is unloaded by staff.
“Hoo boy,” he says quietly to himself when they walk through the glass doors.
“Suite for two under Millan,” Evan says as they both approach the front desk. The man working at the desk looks intimidated as he looks at him and then looks stressed at his computer screen. “Welcome, Mr. Millan. We’ve been expecting you, but there seems to be a problem with your room.”

“A problem? What kind of problem?” Evan says, irritated. Dwight gets nervous.
“The only room we have available is…a double room.”
“But I made these reservations months ago.”
“I’m very sorry, but we’ve overbooked, we can offer you a full refund if you’d like.” Evan’s anger simmers down and something undecipherable replaces it. He looks down at Dwight who looks up at him with his big doe eyes and Evan sighs.
“That means one bed.”
Dwight then looks like a deer in headlights.
“One bed?”
“Yeah.”
“I-I can sleep on the floor. Or something. I don’t mind.”
“You sure? We might be able to go to another hotel, though nothing nearby is probably available…” He scratches the back of his head.
“Yeah, it’s fine with me,” Dwight replies cheerfully.
“Alright. We’ll take it then,” Evan says with a sigh.

Thankfully Dwight has gotten used to long elevator rides, so they make him less sick. They take the elevator to the top floor and their luggage is already there inside the room. It’s the prettiest room Dwight has ever seen, the kind you see in the fancy hotel commercials. He checks out the bathroom.
“Wow Evan, even you can fit in this bathtub,” He laughs. Evan walks in behind him.
“Hm, I guess I could,” he remarks before walking to the bed and lying down. Dwight remembers what he said earlier.
“Should we call and ask for an extra blanket?”
“I’m not making you sleep on the floor.”

“I really don’t mind,” Dwight insists.
“And I don’t mind sharing the bed with you,” Evan insists. “If you don’t mind, that is.” Dwight bites his nails, deep in thought. He’s never shared a bed with anyone before, besides his parents when he was a little kid. But it’s just two men sharing a bed, no big deal. No one has to know, anyway.
“I don’t mind sharing a bed with you, either.”
“Alright. We have a few hours to kill before the game.” he turns the TV on and flips through the channels. Dwight approaches the bed and nervously lies down too, nearly falling off the edge.

“You alright over there?” Evan asks, noting how far away he is.
“Y-yeah, I’m cool.” No, he’s not.
“Come closer, or you’ll fall,” he orders. Dwight does so. They watch TV in silence for a while. The air is tense, at least for Dwight, as he lies stiff as a board.
“Hey, Evan?” He finally speaks up. “Do you live alone?”
“Yeah. What about you?”
“I have three roommates. Greta, James, and Claudette.”
“Claudette?”
“Yup. they’re all my best friends. We met online a few years ago.”
“I see. Sounds crowded.”

“It’s not bad, we have our own rooms and different schedules so we’re not around each other too much.” Dwight relaxes a little after talking, folding his hands in his lap. “Um,” he looks over at Evan, remembering what he was wondering about yesterday,
“Are you uh, seeing anyone?” The long pause hangs in the air.
“No,” Evan finally responds, “But I have my eyes set on someone.” He glances over at Dwight, who looks away quickly. Dwight feels a hint of jealousy; he figures because he doesn’t like anyone right now. “You?” Evan asks.
“Huh? Oh uh, I don’t think anyone could like me, to be honest.” He laughs sheepishly.
“That’s not true.”
“Thanks,” Dwight scratches his face, which is turning red. They both go back to watching TV.

It’s time for the game to start, and they arrive at their box seats. It’s a small, private box built for two people. The seats are leather, plushy, and reclinable.
“You can see the game well from up here,” Evan comments. Dwight is astonished when he’s handed a menu of drinks and food from him, “Get what you want.” Dwight gets flustered at all the choices.
“Um, I’ll just get what you’re having, if that’s okay.” A waiter comes in to take their order, and Evan orders two half-pint whiskies and fries for them both.

“So, are you rooting for a team?” Dwight asks.
“Not particularly. My team was knocked out a while ago,” Evan opens up the bottle of whiskey and pours himself a small glass. Dwight grabs his bottle as well and does the same. “Be careful,” Evan warns, “This stuff is pretty strong.”
“I’ll be fine,” Dwight responds confidently.

The whiskey is too strong for Dwight, so he waters it down with ice. He barely follows the match as he drinks, only knowing to cheer when someone scores. He’s distracted by what Evan said earlier. That he has his eyes set on someone. He wonders who it is, thinking back to all the people he’s seen him speak to. He doesn’t recall seeing him smile then. By the time the game is over, their bottles are empty, as Dwight doesn’t like to waste anything.

“I told you to be careful,” He scolds the clearly intoxicated Dwight.
“I’m still fine,” Dwight says, barely able to get out of his chair without help. He holds on to Evan’s arm to keep steady as they walk through the crowd. Evan doesn’t seem to mind though and guides him safely to a taxi. He helps Dwight inside the car and gives the hotel name to the driver, who starts to drive there. Dwight leans against Evan, who tries to keep him up straight without any luck.

“What’s your suit made of, Evan? It’s really soft and smooth…” Dwight mumbles, petting Evan’s arm while lying on it.
“The same thing as your suit. Cashmere-wool,” Evan stifles a laugh, trying to take this seriously. “You don’t feel sick, do you?” Dwight shakes his head no.
“Just sleepy…”
They arrive and Evan helps Dwight to walk to the elevators. “I still hate elevators…” Dwight lies his forehead against Evan’s chest once the doors close.
“That’s unfortunate,” Evan comments, giving up on keeping Dwight off him.
“How are you so cool, Evan? I wish I was cool.”

They reach the room, and Evan leads him to the bed and helps him take his jacket off. Dwight climbs under the covers right away. Evan brings him a glass of water.
“Drink this,” he orders. Dwight listens and does so. Evan stares at him for a moment. Dwight looks confused, watching him stand there.
“Aren’t you gonna come to bed?” Dwight asks, rubbing his eyes.
“...No, I’m heading out again. Don’t go anywhere, just go to bed.”

“But I’ll be lonely without my friend here with me,” Dwight sulks, pulling the covers up. Evan sighs.
“You’ll be fine. Bye.” He leaves the room and Dwight wonders where he’s going but quickly falls asleep. He doesn’t hear him enter until morning comes. He doesn’t remember his dream that night, a mercy.

“Dwight. Check-out is soon. Get up,” Evan says, putting on a new shirt after taking a shower. Dwight groans and pulls up the covers. “Have a headache?” Evan asks. Dwight nods.
Dwight’s head is throbbing, even though he drank that water. He remembers what happened last night, how he acted, and is now too embarrassed to face Evan. “Hm. Thought that’d be enough water. Order some pain meds from the front.” Dwight reluctantly sits up and reaches for the phone.

“Yeah hi, can I uh, ugh, get some pain meds to my room? Okay, okay thank you. Bye.” He climbs back under the covers, too scared to look at Evan, who opens the door to the delivery. He brings it over to Dwight’s bedside with a cup of water. “You have half an hour,” he says. “O-okay.” Dwight emerges and takes the meds and water from him, without making eye contact.

“Thank you.” Dwight remembers that he left. “So uh, where did you go last night?” he asks before taking a sip.
“Bar,” he responds curtly. Dwight is worried he’s mad at him.
“Um, sorry about the way I acted yesterday.”
“It’s fine. Get dressed.” They head downstairs with their luggage and check out with no issues and take a silent taxi ride to the airport. The plane is silent too. Dwight is too scared to say anything, but tries small talk, with short responses received. He gives up.

He spends the whole weekend worried.

Chapter 4

Thinking about Evan’s suggestion, Dwight decides to try out therapy, choosing the therapist suggested to him by the company. After work, inside the therapist’s office, Dwight melts into the overly-soft chair. The older woman asks him basic questions about his life and Dwight answers honestly. He’s been unlucky and unpopular all his life, but now he has great friends and currently has a great job. “So what brings you in today?” Dwight suddenly feels a little silly. “Um, I’ve been having recurring nightmares since I got my new job. But my job is great! I don’t think that they’re related, they just happened to occur at the same time…I think.”

“What are these dreams about?” Dwight feels even sillier as he gets ready to explain.
“Um, being chased by a madman with a machete?” He rubs the back of his neck as she writes something down on her notepad. “The uh, scenario is a little different each time, and sometimes I see other people. I get chased and get put on a big hook. That’s the gist of it,” he shrugs.
“What is your boss’ name?”
“Evan. He’s the COO, I’m his personal assistant.”
“I see. And what is he like?”

“He’s a huge guy, really intimidating and curt. But he’s not mean to me at all, even when I make a mistake. Well, lately he’s been a little cold, since our Hockey trip. I think it’s because I acted like an idiot when I drank too much. I don’t normally drink too much! It was just that one time.” She writes down some more.
“And how is he like to others?”
“Uh, he’s kind of scary. Other people that aren’t clients or business partners seem to be afraid of him. He kind of freaks me out when he gets angry, honestly.”
“Does he get angry often?”
“Um, kind of.”
“Do you think that you could be under more stress from this than you realize? That this could be causing these nightmares?” Dwight scratches his head.

The timer rings, indicating that there’s only a couple minutes left of the session. She finishes writing something down, “I want you to keep track of your stress levels this coming week and report back to me next week, okay? Have a good evening, Dwight.” They both stand up and shake hands, and Dwight leaves.

A few weeks go by, it’s now late July. Dwight’s appointments have been going well. After work, Evan emerges from his office and approaches Dwight’s desk. “Dwight, are you busy tonight?” He asks, slipping his phone in his pocket and adjusting his suit jacket. Dwight is surprised, as Evan had been very brief with him since the trip.
“Uh, no I’m not. Why, what’s up?”
“Have your nightmares gotten any better?”
“Uh, I’ve been seeing a therapist for them but there’s no improvement yet.”
“I see. There’s something I want to show you. At my house.” Evan looks around the room, like he’s nervous.

“At your house?” Dwight gets nervous too, and fiddles with his tie.
“Yeah. It’s something important.” What could be important for Dwight to see?
“Um, okay. Are you going home now?”
“Yeah. We can go together.” Dwight nods and follows him in the elevator. They enter the same car and after getting through traffic eventually reach Evan’s house. It’s huge and luxurious, way too big for a single person to live in. Dwight is awed even by the sheer size of the doorway. A sizable crystal chandelier greets them as they open the door and go inside. The entryway floor is black marble, and the rest of the house is dark hardwood, the walls are a desaturated dark blue with intricate white crown molding and wainscoting. Many rugs cover the floor.

The vaulted ceilings cause an echo as they walk, as Dwight follows Evan to the back of the house. They enter an open door frame, Dwight is greeted to the sight of an art gallery.
“Woah,” he whispers.
“This is where I keep my own art.”
“You made all of these!?” Dwight exclaims in disbelief. Evan loosens his tie and sighs.
“They’re not very good by professional standards, but I like to keep them up to mark how far I’ve come,” he walks to the right wall of spotlit paintings. “They’re in chronological order.”

Dwight slowly walks around the room as Evan waits in the back, by a door. Beautiful landscapes line every wall. Dwight goes behind a small wall to find sculptures. They’re all clay or metal, except for a bust that’s covered by a sheet. Dwight doesn’t dare peek underneath. “What I need to show you is back in here,” Evan says as Dwight finishes his self-guided tour.
Dwight approaches Evan and Evan takes a deep breath before grabbing the door’s handle. “I need you to be prepared,” he says sternly.
“Prepared?” Dwight feels the tension in the air and takes a deep breath too, “I’m ready.”

The door cracks open and an orange light pours out. It’s a smaller gallery, but the art differs greatly from before. Gone are the landscapes, replaced by grotesque reds and flesh. Dwight sees distorted portraits with faces he can’t quite make out, and an empty space is at the end or the wall. A large, rusty metal hook hangs from the ceiling. The back wall is covered in various masks.
“These are from my dreams,” Evan comments, looking at Dwight, who silently studies the masks.
“That one,” he points out a white, toothy mask with a shaking finger. “Th-that’s from my nightmares. Where did you get it!?”

“I made it.” Evan admits.
“How did you-” Dwight stands there, stunned. He recognizes a few others as well, of similar shape. “You…” Dwight starts. Evan braces himself, turning his head away from him. “You have the same dreams as me?” Evan sighs and looks back at him.
“More or less.”
“That’s crazy!” Dwight exclaims. “Is it like that one ‘Man that appears in everyone’s dreams’ meme thing?” Evan is dumbfounded. “Or have you found out where the mask is from? Have you tried posting it online? Maybe others will recognize it too?”

“It’s online.”
“Really?”
“One person reached out to me after seeing the rest of this collection.”
“Woah. That’s crazy.” Evan puts his hand on his hip and rubs his forehead.
“Yeah, it is.” A gleam catches Dwight’s eye from the bottom corner of the wall. It’s the weapon that the madman uses. It’s welded metal, with a sharp edge and a leather handle.
“Did you make this machete too? Can I hold it?”
“Yeah. But it’s not a machete. It’s a cleaver.”

“It’s pretty heavy,” Dwight remarks, taking it off the wall. He tries to slowly short-swing it.
“You get used to it.”
“Huh?”
“You can stay the night since it’s Friday, if you’d like. I have several guest rooms.”
“Really?” Dwight is happy to hear that. He’s also happy that Evan trusted him enough to show him all of this. He places the cleaver back on its holder and follows Evan out of the room, who then turns off the light and shuts the door, locking it. “Can you show me the rest of the house?” Dwight asks, a hopeful glimmer in his eye. Evan looks away.
“I’ve never given a tour before,” Evan says, sounding hesitant. He tries to avoid looking but eventually his eyes set on him again. “Fine. Follow me. The kitchen is this way.” Dwight walks behind him, excited. He’s never been in a house this big before.

“Here it is,” Evan gestures through the kitchen doorway. The kitchen is huge, with the same black marble as the entryway. A granite island counter sits in the middle of the area. A vast array of knives stick to metal bars above the stove by the giant metal French door fridge. The fridge has a touchscreen that shows the stock of various foods. Dwight peeks inside, and it’s full of different meats and vegetables. Evan must like to cook, Dwight figures. “Bar is over here,” Evan gestures for Dwight to follow him again, and he does so.

The bar is stocked as well as any bar you’d visit. It even has beer and soda on tap. Dwight spots a whiskey bottle and cringes at his previous behavior. “Do you want a drink?” Evan asks. “Not right now, thanks.”
“Over here is the theater.”
“Theater?” Dwight breaks into a jog to catch up with him. What greets him through the door is a movie screen taking up the entire wall, with luxury recliner seating.
“My collection is fairly old,” Evan remarks. “You can see the list over here,” Evan grabs a list and hands it to him. In small print, movies are listed in alphabetical order. He has a lot of movies from the 1900s, as old as the 1930s. Dwight thinks about vampirism again.

“The bedrooms are upstairs. They’re not interesting. Are you hungry?” Evan asks while leaving the room and heading back to the kitchen.
“Yeah, starving actually.”
“Either I order something, or you trust my cooking,” Evan takes off his tie and drops it on the ground. Judging by all the knives, Evan is probably a good cook, or at least good at cutting veggies.
“I wouldn’t wanna impose…” Dwight clasps his hands together and rubs his hand with his thumb while thinking about it. It’s not normal for a boss to cook for his subordinate. He’d feel weird about it.
“Hm, I feel like stew. Come help.” It seems Evan makes the decision for him. Evan rolls up his sleeves to his elbows and washes his hands. Dwight gets knots in his stomach while peeking into the kitchen. “You can cut the potatoes,” He picks up a large knife and places it on the counter for Dwight after admiring it for a moment.

“Uh, o-okay,” Dwight accepts after washing his hands. “Do you have a cutting board I can use?” Dwight asks.
“Third drawer on the left side,” Evan gestures to the island. Dwight finds it while Evan takes the potatoes from the large pantry and brings them to him. “Cut ten. Don’t peel.” Evan cuts the carrots swiftly and Dwight can’t help but stare at him. He feels like this whole thing is strange. Why is his boss cooking for him? “Something wrong?” Evan asks, dropping the meat into a heated pan with some oil and chopped onions. Dwight has stopped cutting. “You eat meat, right? I forgot to ask.”
“Yeah, it’s just uhh…” Dwight shakes his head. “Never mind.” He resumes cutting in silence.

They eat across from each other at the far-too-large table, Dwight almost crying when he takes a bite. It’d been so long since he had a home-cooked meal, with most of his food consisting of frozen dinners. He tries to refrain from making pleased noises as he eats but he can’t help it. Evan smiles into his wine glass to try and hide it from Dwight.
“It’s good, then?”
“Mhm!” Dwight responds with a mouthful of food. “Thanks!” Dwight forgets all of his worries about this being weird.

“Why don’t you pick a movie to watch?” Evan says while Dwight does the dishes.
“I saw the original Dracula on the list, can we watch that?”
“Interesting choice,” Evan smirks to himself. He gets some more wine for himself and offers some to Dwight, who takes a glass even though he doesn’t like it very much. Dwight watches the movie intently, while Evan seems distracted, sitting behind Dwight.
“You’ve seen this before, Evan?”
“A couple times, yes.” He takes a sip of wine. The credits roll.
“What a movie,” Dwight sighs.
“Did you like it?” Evan asks.
“Yeah, but I like these seats more,” he lies back in the reclining leather seat. Evan laughs. “That’s good. We have time for one more. Pick one.”

“Don’t you wanna pick one?”
“I’ve seen them all before.”
“Mmm, how about Alien? That’s pretty scary, isn’t it?” Evan shuffles in his seat.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I like scary movies!”
“Okay…” He puts it on and takes a seat next to Dwight. Dwight pulls up his feet and hugs his legs. “Sorry I’m out of popcorn,” Evan whispers.
“It’s fine,” Dwight whispers back, taking a sip of the soda he grabbed. Dwight jumps and grabs Evan’s arm when he first sees the Xenomorph.
“You alright?”
Dwight lets go, “Yeah, sorry. Not sure what came over me,” he laughs sheepishly.

The movie ends and Dwight rubs his eyes. “It’s getting late,” he checks his phone as he yawns.
“I’ll show you to your room.” Evan gets up and Dwight follows. They head up the grand staircase. “You can stay in here,” Evan opens the door. “My room is down the hall on the right. If you need anything, let me know.”
“Okay, thanks Evan.” Dwight walks in and Evan grabs Dwight’s wrist. “Hm?” Dwight looks down at his hand, then up to Evan, who’s staring him down.
“Dwight.” Dwight’s heart races as he locks eyes with him. He doesn’t know if he wants to run away or stay put, he gets dizzy, and his legs start to shake. Evan lets go and sighs. “It’s nothing. Goodnight.”

Dwight doesn’t sleep that night.

Chapter 5

“Dwight, would you like to go somewhere for lunch?” Evan asks, stepping out of his office at 11:30am. “My schedule is open for a few hours.” August has rolled around, and it’s hot for Portland standards. The AC is kept too low in the office building, however, and Dwight welcomes the idea of going out into the heat.
“Where do you wanna go?”
“Somewhere with ribs,” Evan replies.
“Okay, sure!” Dwight pushes his office chair away from the desk and gets up, grabbing his phone from his pocket. He looks up good places to go to. “What about this one? It’s pretty close.” He shows his screen to Evan as they walk to the elevator. Evan grabs his phone and scrolls through the restaurant photos.
“Looks good enough,” he says after pressing the Lobby button, and hands Dwight back his phone. He pulls up an app on his own phone and orders a ride for them.

The lights flicker for a moment while they ride the elevator, making Dwight jump. “You good?” Evan asks.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Dwight sighs. They climb into the car and head to the restaurant.
“What’re you getting?” Evan asks, looking at the menu, them both sitting at the bar.
“You mentioned ribs, so now it’s all I want,” Dwight laughs. They discuss Evan’s upcoming schedule for the next few days. Evan orders a craft beer for the both of them, Dwight asking if it’s okay to drink when they have to go back to work. Evan says one drink won’t hurt anything.

Their food comes and they eat in silence. Evan is astonished at how messy Dwight is.
“Don’t get it on your shirt,” Evan warns. Dwight finally uses his napkin for his hands and wipes his face when he’s done. “You missed a spot,” Evan points to his cheek.
“Here?” Dwight rubs his face, missing the sauce.
“Here.” Evan takes his own napkin and wipes it off for him. Dwight suddenly gets nervous and doesn’t know why.
“Thank you,” Dwight says, flustered.
“Shall we head back now, or do you want another drink?”
“I’m good to go.”
“Alright.” Evan puts his navy suit jacket back on and they get a ride back. Evan gets stopped by a coworker as they enter the building, so Dwight waits awkwardly by the elevator for him, not wanting to go up alone.

He wraps up the conversation and heads into the elevator with Dwight. About halfway through their ride, the lights flicker, and the elevator comes to a halt. The doors don’t open.
“Oh,” Evan says calmly.
“A-are we stuck?” Dwight says nervously, biting his nails.
“Yeah. It’ll probably be a few minutes before we move,” Evan presses the call button and alerts the downstairs staff that they’ve gotten stuck. Dwight falls silent as they contact people to repair the elevator and call back, saying it might be a few hours.
“Did they say hours!?” Dwight yells.
“Afraid so.” Dwight starts to pace around, hanging his head and rubbing his arms.
“I uh, I don’t do well with being trapped,” Dwight admits as he starts sweating.
“Has this happened to you before?”
“N-No, it’s just a fear of mine,” he laughs nervously.
“It’ll be fine, we’re not going to fall or anything.”
“My hands are tingling, I think I’m freaking out,” He shakes his hands out with no improvement.
“Hey, Dwight. Just take deep breaths,” Evan tries to calm him down, placing a hand on Dwight’s shoulder.
“I-I’m sorry,” tears well up in his eyes and he starts to hyperventilate. “I-I-I can’t breathe!”
“Dwight,” Evan places his other hand on his shoulders and turns Dwight to face him. “Look at me, okay? Dwight’s eyes dart around the elevator before settling on Evan. He struggles to look him in the eyes through his tears. “I want you to try and match my breathing, okay?” Dwight nods quickly and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to listen closely.

Evan gets Dwight to get down on his knees with him, and then to sit down. Dwight vomits and barely misses Evan. They sit there in silence besides Dwight’s sobbing, until Dwight eventually calms down. Evan moves to sit against the wall, and Dwight follows, sitting on his right. He hugs his legs and hangs his head, sniffling. “Feeling any better?” Evan asks.
“A little, I think…” Evan takes off his suit jacket and puts it over Dwight. It’s big enough to be a blanket. Dwight grips it tightly. “How are you so calm?” Dwight peeks over.

“Not my first time being stuck,” Evan shrugs.
“This has happened before?”
“Something like it,” He rests his head against the wall. “Don’t really want to talk about it, though.”
Silence falls again. Evan checks his phone. At least an hour and a half until they get out. His phone has surprisingly good reception for being in an elevator. “What’s your reception like?” Dwight pulls out his phone.
“It’s not very good…” He sighs and puts it away.

“If you want, we can…watch a movie on my phone.” Dwight lights up a little.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, you pick this time,” Dwight says, scooting closer. Evan opens up an app full of old movies and picks a random old-timey black-and-white Noir film from the 1940s. He holds his phone in the middle of them. The way they talk amuses Dwight enough to make him feel better. Dwight leans on his left hand and his hand touches Evan’s. He doesn’t feel like moving it. The tightness in Dwight’s chest is slowly replaced with a feeling of warmth, like fresh cotton candy. Evan looks over at him and stares.
“Hey, Evan?” He looks at him, not paying any mind to the fact that Evan was already staring at him.
“Yeah?”
“...Sorry for throwing up on the floor.”
“It’s fine.”
“I feel bad because you paid for my food again.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m getting hungry again.”
“We’ll be out soon.”

The hero and the heroine kiss and the credits roll. After a few minutes of just sitting there, they get a call saying that help has finally arrived. The elevator techs get to work, and the elevator is brought back down to the lobby, and before the doors are pried open the two get up and Evan puts his suit jacket back on. They watch their step and walk out to a moderate crowd of lookie-loos, who are watching the commotion unfold. Dwight assumes that word got out that the COO got stuck.

“I’m sending you home for the day,” Evan says, leading Dwight outside.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying.”
“You’re not staying. Now go home and get some rest.” Dwight orders a ride and waits for it out front. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Evan says, dismissing him.
“Okay, thanks! See you tomorrow,” Dwight says to Evan as his ride shows up. Evan heads back inside alone.

Dwight walks through the front door of his apartment at around 4:00pm, grateful for not getting stuck in extreme traffic. It’s Wednesday, and Claudette has the day off work.
“Hey Dwight! You’re back early,” she greets him from the couch. She’s browsing through a forum website under the topic of botany on her laptop while the TV is on.
“Yeah, I uh, had quite a day,” he laughs, taking a seat on the old, beat-up recliner beside the couch.
“Did something happen?” She stops typing her answer to someone’s question.
“Yeah, I went out to eat with my Boss and the elevator got stuck when we got back. With the two of us in it!”
“Oh my goodness, are you okay?” She’s aware of Dwight’s phobia of being trapped, it’s one she shares with him.
“Yeah, I’m fine now. I got sick and threw up though. It was super embarrassing. What are you watching?”
“I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’m not really watching anything; it’s just background noise because the apartment is so quiet.”

“I watched another old movie with Evan while we were stuck. He seems to really like really old movies. Like, over-a-hundred-year-old movies even.”
“A lot of those movies are very important,” she remarks.
“Important?”
“They provide a window into our past. Which is important for society to reflect on. And a lot of them have artistic merit which is inspiring to film students.” Dwight doesn’t really understand it, but he likes to hear Claudette’s insight on things.
“Window to our past…” He suddenly thinks of the fact that he’s only seen Evan in suits, a trait shared by many, many characters in old movies. He wonders if that was a character thing, or a real human thing for that time period. He’ll have to look it up later.

“Do you wanna order something for dinner? I can order some pizza,” Dwight offers.
“Can you order a veggies-only pizza for me? Thank you, Dwight!” She goes back to typing.
Dwight orders two pizzas, a supreme and a veggie. He figures that’ll be enough for the four of them. He wonders if Evan ever orders pizza. He thinks about it and the image seems weird to him. He remembers the stew he ate at his house and his mouth waters as he changes the channel on the TV. He thinks about that warm feeling in his chest he felt and wonders if the movie got to him or something.

Greta comes through the front door at 5:15.
“Boy, do you look dreamy,” she comments, looking at Dwight, who is lost in thought with his pizza slice.
“Oh, uh, hi Greta,” he snaps back to reality again.
“So, whatcha thinkin about?” She pesters him, nudging him with her elbow.
“Just um, about work.”
“About that boss you keep on hanging out with?” she nudges again.
“What are you implying?” Dwight asks, obliviously.
“Oh, nothing. Did you hang out with him again today?” She puts down her bag on the table and sits on the couch.
“Uh, yeah actually.”
“Ooh.”
“We got stuck in an elevator.”
“Not ooh. Maybe ooh? How’d that go?”
“I freaked out, threw up, then we watched a movie together. Then he sent me home early.”
“Hmm…” She purses her lips and seems to be unable to label the situation.

“Nothing else happened?” She asks.
“Nope,” Dwight replies, while thinking about their hands touching. He grabs a pillow from behind him and hugs it, resting his head as he watches TV.
“He sure likes you a lot though, doesn’t he?”
“He’s a really nice boss,” Dwight smiles. “He seems scary but he’s actually really cool. Maybe you guys can meet him sometime?”
“Yeah, at your we-” Claudette throws a pillow at her.
“What!?” Greta responds with an irritated sigh. She throws the pillow back and decides to leave Dwight alone for now, since he’s so oblivious it hurts.

Dwight gets up to take a shower and while he’s in there, he hears his phone receive a text message.
He gets out and checks his phone. It’s a text Evan.
“Hope you’re feeling better.” Dwight smiles while drying his hair.
“I am, thank u! See u tomorrow.” Dwight goes to his room and lies down in bed. He never had a job that he looked forward to, and he doesn’t know why he looks forward to this one. Maybe it’s because he has such a cool boss. Maybe it’s because he barely has to do anything.

He falls asleep and has a nightmare that he’s cornered against walls of smashed cars. Dwight glares up at the madman, unmoving. The madman takes off his mask in front of him and comes closer. He can’t remember the man’s face when he wakes up.

Chapter 6

Notes:

CW: Drugged drink up ahead! Nothing bad comes from it though.

The following Monday, a beautiful brunette woman Dwight has never seen before exits the elevator to their floor right before lunch. She’s not an employee, putting in a code to enter their room instead of using a keycard. Evan comes out of his office to greet her.
“Evan!” She walks over and hugs him tightly.
“Good to see you, Gail,” Evan says with a smile. “I’ll be heading out for lunch now,” he says to Dwight.
“Okay, see you later.” Gail grabs Evan’s arm as they walk into the elevator. Dwight feels jealous. He wanted to get out of here early for lunch too, that’s all. Right? He should have seen this appointment on Evan’s calendar, but it’s not there. Is it a secret meeting? Dwight shuffles in his seat, waiting for lunchtime alone. He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to go with him.

Dwight wonders if he’s been spoiled by his Boss. He plays with his new pen, writing scribbles on a notepad. It’s a gold fountain pen, given to him by Evan. He looks up the wiki page on fountain pens to kill time. It’s surprisingly long. Why is it so long? Who the heck is Gail? Noon finally comes, and Dwight begrudgingly takes the elevator alone, not about to go down 40 flights of stairs. He goes to a cafe down the street that he’s gone to with Evan before and sulks in the corner with his croissant and coffee. He wonders where Evan went today. He’ll have to ask later.

His lunch break wraps up and he heads back alone. At the entrance he sees Evan and Gail saying goodbye to each other. She grabs his hand and holds it between hers while talking. They finally part ways as Dwight walks up. They walk to the elevator silently.
“So, um…” Dwight speaks up when the doors close, looking up at him. “Who was that?”
“My oldest sister. She needed to borrow some money. Sorry, I forgot to introduce you.”
“Oh, okay.” Evan picks up on the relief in his voice and hides a smile with his hand. “Where did you guys go?”
“To that restaurant we went to last week. Wanted to try their steak this time.” Dwight gets jealous again and looks away. Evan picks up on it. “It was pretty good, let’s go again sometime soon.” Dwight cheers up again.
“Okay!”

Saturday morning comes, and Dwight wakes up to a text from Evan.
“Good morning, would you like to go out tonight?” it reads. Dwight was planning to stay home and play video games all day, but that can wait til tomorrow.
“Sure! Where to?” Dwight texts back.
“Bar? Your choice.” Dwight thinks it over and looks up local bars, choosing one with cheap drinks. Dwight decides he’ll pay for himself today. He sends the link for the bar to Evan to check out.
“Sounds good. See you at 10.” Dwight wonders why Evan can handle going out so much. Dwight gets overwhelmed sometimes, mostly because of money issues. But his issues have improved a lot since this new job. He was able to get a pretty nice used car, though he doesn’t drive it often.

He spends the day running errands and watching TV to kill time. It occurs to him that this will be the first time being around Evan in casual clothing. He gets anxious choosing what to wear. He thinks about wearing a vest and a dress shirt but ends up choosing a salmon-colored T-shirt with an old video game logo, his black zip-up hoodie, and a baggy pair of blue-grey skinny jeans. He says bye to his roommates and gets a rideshare to the bar at 10. He walks through the door after getting his ID checked and it’s totally packed. Luckily, Evan is a giant even when sitting down, so Dwight quickly spots him at a table. Evan wears a pale green dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and tan suit pants.

“Hey Evan,” Dwight says while grabbing a chair and pulling it to the small table, scraping it on the hardwood floor.
“Hey,” Evan says, arms folded.
“That a new watch?” Dwight asks, admiring it after he sits down. It’s gold with diamonds. Dwight doesn’t dare ask the price.
“Yeah, I got it today,” Evan glances at it. It’s hot in the bar, so Dwight takes off his hoodie and places it on the back of his chair for now.
“That’s cool. What’re you drinking?”
“Just some scotch,” he leans forward and grabs his drink, taking a large sip.
“Hmm, Okay. I think I’ll start with some vodka cranberry myself.” He gets up and heads to the bar counter. Evan notices a man staring at Dwight as he walks away.

It takes a while for Dwight to get the attention of the bartender because he’s not very loud or noticeable, but he eventually gets his drink and heads back to Evan and sits back down. “This place is pretty busy, huh? Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. I kind of like the noise for a change.” Dwight notices Evan’s hands. They’re covered in faint white blotches.
“Huh…are your hands mostly lighter than the rest of your arms?” It then occurs to him that that could have been considered rude to ask. “Er, sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s fine. Yeah, they are,” he drinks some more. “White birthmarks. I have more of them too. They show up more when I tan or get flushed.”
“Really? I have white birthmarks too! They’re kinda small though.”
“Really. Where’s it at?”
“By my left shoulder. Front and back.” Evan quickly finishes his drink.
“I see.”
“Kinda weird considering I’ve had dreams of getting stabbed by a giant hook around there. The brain can think of some crazy things.”
“...I’ve once heard that white birthmarks have to do with your past life. What do you think of that?” He looks Dwight in the eyes.

“Hm?” Dwight sips his drink and makes a face at the sharp taste and burn. “I never heard that before…I don’t believe in any of that stuff, though.” Evan sighs. His phone rings.
“It’s my father, I have to take this. I’ll be right back.” He takes the call outside. When he leaves, a strange man approaches the table.
“Hey there, how’s it going? I’m Mike.” The man is wearing a leather jacket with an open dress shirt and is sweating, his hair is slicked back with too much hair gel. Dwight thinks he should take his jacket off because it’s too hot for it, but he understands there are sacrifices for fashion.

“Uh, hi Mike! I’m Dwight.”
“Mind if I sit here?” Mike asks before sitting down, not waiting for an answer.
“Uh, my friend is sitting there, he’ll be right back. Sorry…”
“Your ‘friend’?”
“Err, my boss.”
“Out drinking with your boss on a saturday night?”
“Yeah.”
“Interesting. Is that him over there?” Dwight turns to look near the door and doesn’t see him.
“No, he must still be outside. Anyways, uh, what’s up?”
“Where’re you from, Dwight?”
“Um, Arizona. You?”
“Wow, that’s pretty far. How’d you end up here?”
“Uh, I like the weather. And my friends moved here too.” Dwight grabs his drink off the table and holds it close to him.

“Cool. What’re you drinking?”
“Vodka cranberry,” Dwight takes a small sip and makes a face again.
“Is it good?”
“Yeah.” Dwight starts to feel the effects of alcohol already even though he only had a little bit. He feels a little confused about it. Mike looks around nervously.
“Are you feeling alright? Wanna get out of here?”
“Huh? Uh, no, I’m waiting for Evan.”
“C’mon, I can take you home, just finish your drink first,” Mike grabs Dwight’s arm.
“Uh, I’m okay, thanks,” Dwight starts to feel stressed out.

Evan comes up and slips a straw in Dwight’s drink. The straw immediately changes color. Mike goes pale, staring up at the massive, furious Evan. Evan grabs Mike by the shirt and pulls him up to his face.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Evan growls through grit teeth.
“H-hey man! I was just doin’ you a favor, that’s all!” He throws up his arms, feigning innocence. Dwight is feeling dizzy, watching the scene unfold in front of him. Evan drags the man to the bouncer up front. The man struggles but is unable to break free. At this point, everyone is staring.
“This asshole drugged my friend. Deal with him.” He shoves the guy into the bouncer. “You’re lucky jail time is the only thing you’re getting from me.” The man proceeds to piss himself a little in fear, feeling in the air what Evan wants to do to him. Evan rushes back to Dwight who is feeling sick at the table.
“Are you alright? You didn’t have that much, right?” He places his hand on Dwight’s back, who is still in disbelief.
“I only had a little.”
“Let’s get you to a hospital. I’ll order a ride,” Evan pulls out his phone and quickly orders one. “Let’s get some fresh air,” he helps Dwight stand up and grabs his hoodie off the chair and then they go outside.

“Why would someone wanna drug me?” Dwight asks. Evan sighs, frustrated. He holds Dwight’s arm to keep him steady.
“Dwight, you’re…you’re like a fawn.”
“I’m defenseless?”
“Not just that…” Evan folds his arms and looks away. “You’re…you’re cute and defenseless. You’re not aware of the dangers that lurk out there. There are bad people out there that want to take advantage of that. That want to hurt you because of that.” Cute? Dwight hangs on that word. Did Evan just say he’s cute? But he said he’s cute like a baby deer. Not cute-cute. Dwight still turns redder.
“You okay? You’re really red. Need some water?” He rubs Dwight’s back.
“I’m okay…” Their ride pulls up and they head to the hospital.
“...I wanted to kill that guy.” Evan confesses. The car gets very tense because even the driver can tell that he truly means it. “I could’ve done it too. Easily.”
“The whole world is spinning,” Dwight complains as he falls over onto Evan. Evan tenses up.

They arrive at the hospital and Dwight gets tested for drugs while Evan waits in the waiting room. They decide to hold Dwight for a few hours to watch him and see if he’s okay once the test results are positive. Evan comes into the room and helps set up a police report. He reassures Dwight that the man will pay dearly. If he has to use his money to make it so, then he will.

“You don’t have to wait for me,” Dwight mumbles, getting really tired.
“I don’t mind. It is getting late though; give me your phone and I’ll contact your roommates.” Dwight unlocks his phone and hands it to him, then closes his eyes. Evan remembers the name Claudette and calls her. She picks up.
“Hey Dwight! How’s it going?”
“This is Dwight’s boss. He’ll be fine but he’s in the hospital for a couple more hours. I’m staying with him.”
“Oh my gosh! What happened!?”

“...A little mishap at the bar. He can tell you about it later if he wants. He’s about to sleep.”
“Can I talk to him really quick?”
“Sure.” He hands the phone back to Dwight, who is really drowsy.
“...Hello?”
“Dwight! Are you okay? Are you safe?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Evan is here with me,” he yawns.
“Want us to come visit you?”
“No that’s okay, I’m just gonna…sleep a few hours...”
“Okay, call me if you need anything!”
“Okay, g'night…” he hangs up and drops his phone. Evan takes a seat next to him. He checks his watch, it’s now about 3am.
“Hey, Evan?” Dwight looks over at him through blurry eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Can we go bowling next time?”
“Sure.” Dwight smiles and closes his eyes again. Once Evan knows he’s asleep, Evan strokes Dwight’s hair a few times, pausing with his hand on his face. Evan sighs and pulls his hand away. “What am I doing…” He whispers to himself. He sits back in his chair and closes his eyes, trying to get some sleep as well.

Chapter 7

Notes:

This is being posted on Valentine's Day accidentally. Happy Valentine's Day! :)

The following Friday, it’s now September and it’s raining hard. Dwight and Evan eat their lunch inside the cafe on the first floor. Dwight finishes his bag of chips and gets an idea.
“So, Evan, do you wanna go bowling tonight?” Evan thinks about it.
“I haven’t been bowling for a lifetime,” he responds. “I’m probably not any good. But sure, why not?” he shrugs. Dwight gets excited.
“Do you wanna do it with just us two, or should we invite others?”
“I have no one to invite,” Evan admits.
“Just us then!” Dwight crumples up his bag of chips with his sandwich wrapper and stands up to throw them away. “Are you done?” He asks.
“Yeah, thanks.” He takes Evan’s trash with him and throws it away with his.

They head to the elevators and walk into one, but another man joins them for once. Evan sighs.
“Hi, Dad,” Evan says. Dwight stiffens his posture, having never met the man before.
“This must be the Personal Assistant you’re so fond of,” his father says. “The others never lasted long, did they?”
“Dad…” Evan sighs again.
Only a few weeks each.” Dwight is surprised at hearing this but tries to keep his composure. “Dwight, was it?” He looks past Evan at Dwight. Dwight isn’t sure if he knew his name already or read his name tag.
“Uh, yes sir. Nice to meet you.” He nervously offers a handshake which is reciprocated.
“Thanks for working so well with my son. He can be a handful at times.” Evan looks up at the ceiling, trying not to sigh again.
“Uh, no problem! I like working with him,” Dwight smiles. The elevator stops at their floor.
“I’ll call you in a few minutes, Evan,” he says before the doors close.

“That was scary,” Dwight admits, sitting down at his desk.
“Yeah, that’s my father for you.”
The rest of the day goes off without a hitch, and the clock eventually strikes 5pm. They head outside together and wait under the awning over the front doors. The rain still hasn’t let up.
“Jeez, it’s pouring. I forgot my umbrella at home,” Dwight says, looking up at the sky. Evan orders a ride for them.
“Yeah, it’s raining pretty hard. Hey, you made a reservation for bowling, right?”
“Yup, for 6 o clock,” Dwight gives a thumbs up.
“Alright. Our ride will be pulling up in a minute.” They walk to the side of the road with Dwight leading the way. A car drives into the gutter through a huge puddle, and splashes all over Dwight’s suit.

“Ah, damnit!” He looks at his suit and is absolutely soaked with dirty water. Evan stifles a laugh.
“That’s supposed to be dry-cleaned. Let’s postpone bowling and go to my place. I’ll send your suit out from there.” Dwight sighs, taking off his suit jacket.
“Okay, sounds good.” The rideshare is changed to his house and they head over.
“God, it stinks,” Dwight whines in the car. He feels bad for the driver who had to put down a towel for him to sit on. He hopes he doesn’t damage the seats. They reach Evan’s house and quickly head inside.
“You can take a shower if you’d like,” Evan offers.
“That sounds great, thanks!”
“I’ll wash your clothes and send off your suit when you get in there. Hold on, let me grab you a shirt to borrow.” Evan heads upstairs while Dwight takes off his jacket and tie by the front door.

The house is pretty cold, and Dwight starts to shiver. Evan returns with a white dress shirt and a towel and hands it to Dwight.
“You remember where the restroom is?”
“Yup! It’s down the left hallway on the right, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks, Evan!” He takes the shirt and towel and walks over there.
“Leave your clothes by the door so I can order your suit to be picked up.”
“Okay, got it.” Dwight closes the door and turns the water on, making it as hot as he can stand, to fog up the room. He undresses by the door and hops in the shower, sighing as he heats up. He hears the door open and his clothes getting picked up. When he gets out, he finds that not only are his pants gone as they were part of the suit, his boxer-briefs are gone too, as they were also soaked. He only has Evan’s dress shirt to wear. It’s long enough to cover him because Evan’s so tall, so he considers it not a problem for now. Evan’s pants wouldn’t fit him anyway, not by a longshot.

He heads into the living room to find Evan watching TV with a drink in his hand. Evan does a double take when he sees him and puts down his drink before he drops it. He clears his throat.
“I’ll head to my room and come get you when your clothes are done,” Evan offers, starting to stand up.
“No, it’s fine, I don’t mind. If you don’t mind, that is.” Dwight suddenly feels a little awkward.
“Alright,” Evan sits back down. Dwight sits next to him on the couch, and Evan tries not to stare at him.
“What are you watching?”
“Some housing show. I find it mindless enough to relax after work.,” he picks up his drink again.
“Okay. What are you drinking?”
“A manhattan. Do you want anything?”
“Not right now, thanks.”
Silence falls and they watch TV. Evan takes off his suit jacket as the house warms up.

Dwight looks over at Evan, and notices that his ear is bright red. The rest of his face is too. He wonders if it’s from drinking.
“Does alcohol make you red, Evan?” Dwight asks.
“No,” Evan says curtly.
“Are you okay?” Dwight turns to him, pulling his leg onto the couch.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” Evan lies. He puts down his drink on the coffee table and sighs. He turns to face Dwight too. “That was a lie. I’m not okay.”
“What’s wrong? Are you sick? Want me to bring you something?” Evan stares into his eyes. He can’t take it anymore.
“Dwight.”
“Hm?” Dwight responds, clueless. Evan places his right hand on Dwight’s face. Evan leans forward, coming closer. Dwight’s heart starts to race.

Evan leans forward and kisses him softly on the lips. Dwight’s eyes widen in shock. Evan pulls away to read Dwight’s expression.
“I’m sorry, I…that was inappropriate,” Evan says, turning away. “You’re my subordinate, I should stop.” He starts to stand up, “I should check on your clothes-” Dwight grabs his sleeve.
“What if…what if I don’t want you to stop?” Evan stares at him, mouth agape. Evan gets on the couch on his knees and grabs Dwight’s face. He kisses him hard and gently pushes him down onto the couch. Dwight kisses him back, wrapping his arms around his neck. Evan kisses his cheek and trails down his neck to his collarbone, unbuttoning the top of Dwight’s shirt.

He pulls it open, revealing his chest, and he spots the white birthmark. He places his hands on Dwight’s sides and slides down to kiss the mark. Dwight holds Evan’s head in his arms, out of breath, as his hands slide to his chest. Dwight pulls his legs onto the couch and wraps them around Evan’s waist. Evan kisses him again, slipping in his tongue, which Dwight reciprocates. For a moment Dwight worries because he’s never done this before, but his focus is quickly brought back with a light bite to his lip. Evan’s definitely done this before, he figures.

Evan grabs Dwight’s hips, and Evan’s phone starts to ring. They both ignore it until it starts to beep. Evan freezes.
“That means an emergency. Hold on.” He sits up and grabs his phone, it says his mother called.
He quickly calls her back.
“Hey Mom, what’s wrong?” He says when she answers.
“...What!?” He says in disbelief, standing up. Dwight gets worried as he pulls his shirt closed.
“...Okay, I’ll be right there. Bye.” He hangs up and stands there, frozen. “...My father had a massive heart attack. He’s in a coma.”
“Oh, god…” Dwight says, concerned.
“I have to go.” Evan rushes towards the front door. “The washing machine’s by the restroom. Your suit will be ready tomorrow.” The front door slams shut.

Dwight is all alone in this big house. He decides to wander around a bit after putting his shirt and underwear in the dryer. He thinks about how he could’ve just gone home in the first place, but then he wouldn’t have had that…moment with Evan. He finds himself in the art gallery, and there’s a new landscape painting on the wall. It’s of a famous Portland botanical garden. He walks to the back and checks the door to the rest of the gallery, it’s unlocked. He opens the door and turns on the light, walking to the back, to the wall of masks. He sees there’s a couple new ones but sets his eyes on the toothy white one. He picks it off the wall and holds it, examining it closely. It’s exactly like the one from his nightmares, down to the cracks.

Darkness circles his vision, like a black fog. He feels uneasy and quickly puts the mask back and leaves, closing the door hard. He watches TV alone for a few hours after trying to figure out how to play movies in the theater. He feels lonely and checks his phone. Nothing. It’s 12am. He goes to bed in the guest room after putting on his dry clothes. Around 3am, he feels movement. It’s Evan, lying on the other side of the bed. He stares at the ceiling. Dwight rolls over and faces him.
“Hey,” Dwight says, sleepy.
“He’s gone.” Dwight freezes. He had just met the man today. He wasn’t even that old.
“I’m sorry,” Dwight says quietly. He scoots over and wraps his arm around him. Evan holds his hand and lies there silently. They eventually fall asleep.

In the morning his suit is brought back from the cleaners, as Evan paid a hefty fee for rush service. Dwight cooks them a large breakfast. They eat in silence, as Dwight is unsure of what to say. Evan pokes at his eggs, resting his head on his hand. “Um…” Dwight finally speaks up.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No.”
“Okay. Do you have a phone charger I can use?”
“In my room. Right side of my bed.” Dwight heads upstairs to grab it and pauses at a portrait hanging in the hallway. It’s of his father and who he assumes is Evan’s mother. He wonders how she is doing, and wonders if he’ll meet her soon. He grabs the charger and heads back to the kitchen. Evan has eaten a little bit of his food.
“It’s strange.” He says. “I thought I was used to death by now.” Dwight wonders why he speaks like he’s an old man. “I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to be feeling.”
Dwight hasn’t lost anyone in death yet, so he doesn’t know either. He just knows that he should listen to what he wants to say. He follows Evan into the living room, and they watch TV in silence. Dwight wants to lie on him, but he refrains. He tries to not think about the previous night, which is hard to do while sitting on the same couch.
“Do you want me to stay over again?” Dwight asks, pulling his legs onto the couch.
“If you want. I won’t force you to,” Evan replies, not taking his eyes off the TV. Dwight texts the group chat about what happened and says that he’s staying over again.
“I’ll stay.” Evan looks at him. “...Can I hug you?” Dwight asks.
“Yeah.” Dwight comes closer and throws his arms around him, and they watch TV like this for hours.

That night, they sleep in Evan’s bed.

Chapter 8

The following Monday, Evan is suddenly promoted to CEO, at least temporarily. His schedule is completely full, with meeting after meeting. He doesn’t even get proper breaks for lunch, with Dwight having to fetch him food. Dwight doesn’t get any time alone with him all week. It’s now Friday. He worries that Evan is avoiding him, but he knows, at least hopes, that it’s just his anxiety talking. They haven’t talked about what happened between them the other night. He wonders if it was just a fluke. He tries to focus on his work as well, but there’s not much for him to do. He plays with his fountain pen again, doodling a picture of Evan on a sticky note.

Evan walks by his desk at 4pm while on the phone with his mother and Dwight hides the note under a stack of paper. They’re planning the final details of the funeral. It sounds like a lot of people are going tomorrow. Dwight knows he went to a great-uncle’s funeral as a child, but he doesn’t remember. He thinks it sounds really uncomfortable, but maybe that’s the point, get all the bad feelings out together, then remember the good times. He wonders if Evan has any good times with his Father. He hopes he does.

“I’m staying late again,” Evan says when he returns. “You can go home now if you’d like.”
“I can stay until 5,” Dwight says, hoping to see more of Evan today.
“Alright.” He dials another number and heads into his office. Dwight sighs, pulling out his little drawing again and working on it. It’s not very good, but Dwight likes to think that he at least captured his essence, looking kind of grouchy. Dwight laughs at it and places it in his pocket to take home.

5 o'clock comes along, and Dwight knocks on Evan’s door to tell him goodbye. Evan waves through the window, busy on his computer and on the phone. Dwight heads home after getting stuck in commuter traffic. He orders a pizza for him and his roommates, then goes to lie down in his bed. He thinks about Evan. He hopes the funeral goes well tomorrow. He hopes next week is less hectic for him. He plays video games to kill time before bed. That night, as usual, he has a nightmare.

He dreams that he’s bloodied and broken in an old, rusty school building, a building that came from its own nightmare. He’s all alone, running in the hallway, and a loud siren is going off. Cracks of light form on the ground, which rumbles as if the whole world is angry. A jolt of pain shoots up his leg, and he collapses. A bear trap clings to his leg tightly. He panics, feeling like time is running out. His heart beats in his ears, getting worse by the second. The madman bends down, and Dwight squeezes his eyes shut, knowing he’s about to be picked up and placed on a hook, or just straight up brutally executed like the others. The trap is opened, and his leg is free. He looks up to the man, who walks away from him.

Dwight resumes running, but this time towards the man. In front of the man is a hole in the ground, emitting black fog. The black fog usually fills him with dread, but not this fog. Dwight jumps in without a second thought, just before time is up. Dwight wakes up, confused. Did he not really have a nightmare this time? He was still hurt pretty bad, though. That trap always hurts like hell, but this time it hurt a little less. He wonders why that was. He checks his phone for the time; it’s almost noon, he slept a long time.

He heads into the kitchen and finds James eating toast. He must’ve gotten back late from work.
“Hey,” James greets him.
“Good morning! How’s it going?”
“Fine,” he bites his toast. “You woke up late too, huh?”
“Yeah, I played games too late I guess,” Dwight laughs, pulling out a chair to sit and eat his cereal. “I had a weird dream last night.”
“Don’t you always lately?”
“Well, yeah, but this was different. It didn’t end with me in peril for once!”
“Really? That’s new.” Dwight had opened up about his dreams a little since he kept waking up his roommates by waking up screaming. His therapy hasn’t been helping, sadly.

Dwight leans forward to peek into the living room. “Where’re the girls?”
“Greta made Claudette go running with her early this morning,” James replies. “Haven’t seen them since.” Dwight assumes they went to eat somewhere or get drinks.
“Wanna go do something tonight?” Dwight asks, eating his cereal.
“Hmm, how about tomorrow night? I feel like staying home today.”
“Okee dokee,” Dwight gives him a thumbs up. “Arcade maybe?”
“Okay. Let’s invite Greta and Claudette too.”
“Good idea!” Dwight’s phone jingles. It’s a text from Evan.

“Can you come over tonight?” It reads. Dwight gets butterflies and smiles. James notices.
“What’s up?”
“Oh, uh, nothing, my boss wants me to come over.”
“For what?”
“Uh, I dunno yet. I’ll know when I get there, I guess. His Dad’s funeral was today, and work was super busy this week. Maybe it’s something about work?” Dwight rambles, nervous. James laughs, noticing Dwight biting his nails instead of his cereal.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m great! Just nervous, haha.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. Wanna play some Mario Kart?”
“You’re on! Lemme just reply real quick,” Dwight texts him back: “OK, What time?”
“7.” Dwight sends a thumbs up emoji then heads into the living room with James.

After spending a few hours mostly losing, 6:30 comes along and Dwight drives over to Evan’s, using a code to get through the large, ornate gate. He rings the doorbell, and the door quickly swings open.
“Uh, hi Evan!” Dwight waves, “How’s it going?”
“I’m doing alright, everyone finally left an hour ago.” Dwight walks inside. Evan leads him into the kitchen where there is still catering out. “Want anything?”
“I’m good, I ate before coming over. Thanks though.”
“Okay. Want to head into the living room or the theater?”
“Um, the theater? It’s been a while.” Evan nods and leads him there.

“Pick a movie,” he offers, heading to the projector.
“Um,” Dwight sits down and clasps his hands together, “I was hoping we could, uh, talk a little first?” Evan approaches him and sits down next to him.
“Okay.” Dwight gets even more nervous, his stomach in knots.
“First off, are you doing okay? About the funeral and stuff?”
“Yeah, I feel just fine. What’s bothering you?”
“Okay, so uh, what happened last Friday…” He begins. Then he freezes, trying to read Evan’s face.
“What about it?”
“Was that, uh…a mistake you made? Or…”
“It wasn’t a mistake. Unless you think it was.” Evan responds, stern as ever. Dwight shakes his head no.
“Not at all! I uh, enjoyed it. I was just wondering, cause uh, well I know it’s been a busy week and all, but um…” Dwight pauses for a long time.
“Mhm?”
“I wanna do it again,” he finally gets out. “And more, if you want to, I mean.”

Evan smiles at him, a genuine smile.
“Of course I want to.” He lightly grabs Dwight’s arm, and slides down to his hand, rubbing it with his thumb. Dwight turns bright red, looking Evan in his steel blue eyes. His heart races. He grabs Evan’s hand and holds it.
“...I really like you, Evan,” he confesses. “I’ve never felt this way about a guy before. It took me a while to figure it out,” he laughs sheepishly. “But if tonight’s not a good night, I can wait-” Evan pulls Dwight forward and kisses him.
“Tonight is good. Want to move to my room?” Evan stands up and offers his hand to Dwight. Dwight nervously accepts, and Evan notices his legs are shaking badly as he stands up.
“I can carry you if you want.”
“Y-you can carry me?”
“Sure, watch.” He easily sweeps Dwight off his feet into a bridal carry and walks out of the room with him.
“W-woah!” Dwight exclaims in disbelief, throwing his arms around Evan’s neck. “You’re strong!” Dwight laughs. He’s carried up the staircase and into Evan’s room and is placed on his bed. Evan helps him take off his hoodie, and Dwight kicks off his sneakers and pulls off his socks.
“So, this is your first time?”
“Y-yeah,” Dwight admits, pulling down his pants.
“Alright.” Dwight gets shy when he goes to take off his underwear and stops.

Evan takes off his suit jacket and tie and unbuttons his shirt. He takes off his shoes, unbuckles his belt and drops his pants to the floor. He pulls down his underwear, exposing himself, and he’s already half-hard. Dwight gets embarrassed after staring and looks away.
“You okay?” Evan asks, noticing he didn’t take his boxer briefs off yet.
“Yeah, just nervous.” Evan takes off his shirt and Dwight stares at his huge muscles in amazement. He wonders when Evan has time to work out. Dwight takes a deep breath and pulls his underwear down his legs.

Evan sits down next to him and gently grabs Dwight’s chin, turning his head toward him. He kisses his cheek and then his lips. Dwight grabs Evan’s face with both hands as he kisses him back. Evan slowly pushes Dwight down onto the bed. Evan slips in his tongue as his hand glides down Dwight’s body, gently grabbing his cock. Dwight jumps and moans into his mouth as he pumps him slowly up and down, getting him hard.
“This might feel a little weird at first,” Evan says as he pulls away, reaching for the drawer of his nightstand. He pulls out a large bottle of lube and pours it on his fingers.

He places his hand between Dwight’s legs and teases his hole before slowly inserting his middle finger. Dwight squeezes his eyes shut, unused to the sensation.
“You alright?” Evan asks, curling his finger and feeling around. Dwight nods.
“It feels weird,” he admits. Dwight suddenly moans, arching his back and gripping the blanket. “Fuck, what was that?” He asks, panting.
“Your prostate.” He gently rubs the small bump inside him again, causing Dwight to squirm.
“Are your nipples sensitive?” Evan asks, moving his other hand to Dwight’s chest.
“Uh, I dunno.” Evan pinches one between his fingers and Dwight whines.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Evan introduces another finger, stretching Dwight out. Dwight looks over at Evan’s cock, which is now fully hard, and gets nervous again.

Evan sees Dwight staring with concern and glances down at himself.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll go slow,” he reassures. Dwight takes a deep breath.
“Okay, I trust you.”
“You ready?” Evan asks, pulling out his fingers and getting in position, holding onto Dwight’s thighs with both hands.
“I think so,” Dwight grabs a pillow from behind himself and holds it in his arms. He’s shaking more than he was before, so Evan places Dwight’s legs to his sides and bends over, kissing him again.
“It’ll be fine,” he smiles. He grabs himself and presses his cock against Dwight’s hole; the head slips in relatively easily. He feels Dwight tense up, tightening around him. “Breathe slowly.” Dwight nods and squeezes the pillow. He slowly presses in, timing himself, moving with Dwight’s breathing, until he’s all the way in. “It’s in,” he remarks. Dwight peeks over his pillow, and he can’t believe it. He’s no longer a virgin. And it didn’t really hurt. “You doing okay?” Evan asks, worried about the silence.
“Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking,” he laughs nervously.

“I’m gonna start moving now, okay?” He holds onto Dwight’s thighs as he begins to pull out until he’s nearly out, then slowly pushes back in. Dwight melts into the bed from these new sensations, moaning freely.
“Fuck, Evan…” he cries out, when Evan begins to move faster.
“You’re pretty noisy, aren’t you?” Evan remarks. Dwight covers his face with the pillow to muffle himself. “Hey, don’t do that,” he grabs the pillow and throws it next to him on the bed. “I like it,” he laughs. “It’s positive feedback.” Evan grabs Dwight hips, holding him up so he can fuck him at the right angle. Dwight then really lets loose his cries.
“Fuck, right there! That spot! It feels so good, h-hitting it so fast!” He wraps his legs around him, pulling him in. “I feel it, I-I’m gonna cum soon!” Dwight says, panting.

Evan lays his body on Dwight and wraps his arms around him, holding him close. Dwight throws his arms around Evan’s neck. Evan’s right hand then slides down and grabs Dwight’s member, jerking him off in time with his thrusts.
“E-Evan!” He cries as he cums harder than he ever has before, his eyes rolling back and his toes curling. Evan cums soon after then lies on top of him, out of breath.
“Damn,” Dwight whispers, petting the back of Evan’s head. Evan lifts himself up and kisses Dwight again, and Dwight gladly reciprocates.

“Was it good?” Evan asks, sweat dripping off his face. Dwight grabs Evan’s face and stares into his eyes, smiling.
“Yeah!” Evan rolls over to the side of the bed onto his side, facing Dwight.
“Good.” Dwight notices a faint white line on his chin and follows it with his eyes. It goes over his lips and over the right side of his nose. He finds it peculiar that he hasn’t noticed it until now but figures it’s because Evan is so flushed right now. He scoots closer to him and Evan puts his arm around him. He looks at Evan’s arm, and it’s covered in more white lines.
“Huh, you really do have a lot of white birthmarks.” Dwight remarks.
“Yeah. I do.” Dwight finds it strange how clean their borders are. They’re all mostly straight, like the way a scar would heal and leave a mark.

Dwight looks down at Evan’s flushed chest and sees a very large one. He reaches out and touches it, deep in thought, feeling like something is scratching at the corner of his brain. He furrows his brow.
“Dwight?” Evan asks. The marks flash a dark red in Dwight’s mind. Underneath a toothy white mask. His eyes widen as he feels a sharp pain, like a jolt of lightning, sear through his brain.

Dwight Morley, no, Dwight Fairfield, remembers.

Chapter 9

Dwight shoots up out of bed, his chest tightening, his heart racing. His head spins as he quickly grabs his clothes off the floor.
"Dwight, what's wrong?" Evan asks, sitting up.
"I-I have to go," Dwight says in a panic, pulling his shirt over his head. He slips his pants on in silence, suddenly terrified of the man next to him. Evan just watches; he figures out what has happened. A sense of dread washes over him.
“Dwight, wait, please,” he says slowly, trying to calm Dwight down. Dwight finishes getting his shoes on and bolts for the door without responding, leaving his hoodie behind. “Dwight!” Evan wants to chase after him but knows that would be a terrible idea. But he doesn’t want Dwight to drive like this.

Dwight slams the door to his car as sweat pours down his forehead. He gets a text from Evan.
“At least calm down before you drive.” Dwight knows he’s right, but he just wants to get home. He watches the front door in terror for a few minutes, trying to reduce his panic. It never opens. He starts to cry as he drives home, blasting his music to try and stop his thinking. How could he have been so stupid? Evan tried telling him so many times, but he couldn’t figure it out. He couldn’t remember, even with his nightmares; his memories trying to reach him. And, oh god, his roommates. His roommates are his old friends, his dearest friends. Meg and Jake and Claudette. Claudette, she even has the same name as she did. Does she remember at least? Dwight doesn’t think so. Dwight is alone. All alone.

He scoffs at his favorite band, The Killers, as they come on shuffle. The Killers? Really? Was his subconscious mind trying to reach him even then? No, the Killers were his favorite from before he was taken, a twisted coincidence. Evan laughed at it. He knew. He always knew. He hits the steering wheel and hurts his hand. Was this all just a game to Evan? Was he just his prey again, in a different way? Was this his endgame the entire time? He parks on the sidewalk when he finally gets back to his apartment. He rushes up the stairs, through the front door, and runs into his room, past his roommates, slamming the door. He falls onto his bed, not bothering to take off his shoes.
“Dwight? What happened?” Claudette asks at the door.
“Nothing.” Dwight responds quietly.
“What?”
“Nothing!” He yells, clearly distraught. Claudette returns to the living room with the others.
“Where did he go tonight?” Claudette asks James.
“To his boss’s house,” James responds, clasping his hands together and rubbing his hand with his thumb, clearly worried and trying to hide it. Greta sighs and folds her arms.
“He’ll tell us when he’s ready, I guess.”

That night, Dwight only emerges to use the bathroom. He feels disgusted with himself, cleaning up. He can’t believe he was so gullible. He goes back to his room in a hurry, avoiding everyone. James knocks on the door.
“Dwight. I’m leaving water by the door. If you get hungry, let us know.” Dwight has no appetite, but cracks open the door to grab the glass of water. Dwight wonders how his friends were brought back together through an online survival game. Did an outside force bring them together again? It can’t be a coincidence. He wonders if they would all think he was crazy if he tried talking to them about his memories. He cries himself to sleep.

The next day, James invites him to go out to an arcade. Dwight declines, unable to get out of bed. They take turns bringing food to his door, and sometimes Dwight takes it. They realize that something is really wrong. They wait for him to open up, but days pass. On Wednesday, Dwight checks his work schedule. It says he’s on vacation. Vacation? Some vacation this is. On Thursday, he hears a knock at the front door. He hears Evan’s voice when someone answers it. His hoodie appears in front of his bedroom door. He leaves it there, afraid to touch it.
On Friday, a huge bouquet of flowers appears in the kitchen, he spots it on his way to the bathroom. His phone rings every day, he doesn’t answer it.

He remembers the other killers. He hears humming in his dreams, he sees a white rabbit mask and an axe. He sees a chainsaw sprinting towards him. A harpoon shot towards him. Knives, so many knives. He’s stalked from the shadows. He’s infected. He sees a ghost. He vomits and coughs. He’s shocked. Hunted down like an animal. How can he handle all of these memories at once? He curls into a ball in bed. How did Evan handle it? When did he remember everything? Does he regret being a killer? Why was he a killer? The Trapper, he was called by his friends. He remembers all the bear traps they’d fallen to. Dwight wonders where the rest of his friends are, if they look the same, have different names.

He remembers the Halloween movies. He remembers Laurie Strode and The Shape were from them. He remembers the old video game series on his shirt, Resident Evil. His friends Jill and Leon and the others were from them. He wonders if he himself is from a comic or something to someone else. His boring joke of a life? Not likely, unless it’s some sort of sick comedy.
The next week rolls around, he’s still spending all day in bed. He tries to play some video games on the old TV in his room. The others are encouraged to hear anything besides crying from his room.
“Dwight?” Greta cracks the door open; it’s finally unlocked.
“Hey,” Dwight responds, spacing out, focusing on his game.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
“I brought you a soda.” Greta hands him a Diet Coke.
“Thank you,” he takes it without looking. Greta sits on the bed with him. Dwight remembers all of the moments they had in the fog and tries to push the thoughts out of his head.
“So…” she speaks up, watching him play. Dwight doesn’t say anything. “You know we’re here for you, right? No matter what,” she continues.
“Yeah…I know. Thanks.”
“So, if you wanna walk about anything…”
“I slept with my boss,” he responds, with a hopeless look in his eyes. “And I regret it. That’s all.” He glances over at her, thinking about her teasing, how he was so oblivious to it. Greta doesn’t buy that that’s the only thing bothering him but decides to not press it.
“I’m sorry,” she says, placing her hand on his back. He flinches. “...He keeps coming by. Want us to tell him to go away?”

“He’ll stop and move on eventually,” Dwight’s eyes well up with tears. He tries to not cry.
“He didn’t, like, pressure you, did he? Cause if he did, I’ll kick his ass for you.” she genuinely offers.
“No, I came on to him,” he sighs.
“Maybe you should report him still. Some companies have policies about that kinda stuff.”
“It’s fine, I wanna quit anyway.” He thinks about how his schedule still shows him on vacation, he wonders why he hasn’t been fired by now. Why was Evan being nice to him still? Didn’t he get what he wanted? What is his plan now? Does he want to lure him in and kill him for good?
Dwight pauses his game. He looks over at Greta. At Meg. “...Despite all of this…I miss him.”
“You do?”
“I’m…” he takes a deep breath. “I think I’m probably in love with him.” Greta makes a face, visibly confused. He unpauses his game and goes back to playing. Something doesn’t add up for Greta.

“Really? Maybe you should talk to him?”
“What day is it?”
“Friday.”
“What time is it?”
“About 4pm.”
“Fuck it,” Dwight stands up, pulls some clothes out from his drawers and something off his nightstand and heads into the bathroom. They hear the shower turn on. Greta leaves his room and heads to the balcony for some fresh air.
“That’s a good sign, right?” Claudette asks Greta.
“I think so,” she shrugs, not knowing what to make of the situation, of the sudden change in him. “He still has that dead look in his eyes, though.”

After half an hour he emerges from the bathroom, his hair dripping wet.
“I’m going out.” He announces, grabbing his car keys from next to the front door. He pauses to look at the flowers on the table.
“You sure that’s a good idea?” James asks.
“No,” Dwight smiles dryly, before heading out the front door. He drives to Evan’s and waits for him on his front porch. At 5:45, he finally pulls up, parking next to Dwight.
“Dwight!” Evan calls out, slamming his car door.
“Don’t come any closer,” Dwight warns, holding the palm of his hand out towards him. “Not until I move.” Dwight cautiously moves over to the bushes as Evan moves to his front door, keeping a safe distance away from Dwight. Dwight takes a deep breath.

“When did you remember?” Dwight asks. Evan looks down at the ground.
“About fourteen.”
“...How did you deal with it?”
“I didn’t really. Considered it as a punishment of my past life. I just…lived with it.”
“All alone?”
“Yes.”
“Does it ever get easier? To deal with?”
“Not really.”
“Do you remember everything?”
“I remember my past life, my horrible father. The horrible things that I did.”
“What horrible things?”
“Murder. Mass murder.” Dwight takes a step back. “I remember the years of torture I endured,” Evan continues, “The torture I then inflicted on others. On you.” Dwight holds himself and looks away. “I remember that time with you, that one chance we had.”
“What?”

“There’s no way for you to remember, you were killed by the Entity right after.”
“I was?”
“Yeah. Still in my arms.” Dwight goes quiet. “I remember the last time we saw each other; we shook hands.” Evan takes a step forward. “Then I saw you again, at work. When we shook hands, my feelings came back. I fell for you all over again.” Dwight stands there, shocked.
“Fell for me?” Dwight is taken aback, but his defenses are still high.
“Yeah.” Evan wants to run to him and sweep him off his feet again, but he refrains. “Getting to know you through work has been…amazing. But tortuous.” Evan sighs and runs his hand down his face. “I’m sorry, Dwight. I’m sorry I tried to get you to remember. Either I didn’t want to be alone anymore, or I wanted to punish myself. Either way, it was selfish.”

Dwight stands there, speechless. He wonders if he’s just easy to manipulate. He misses him. He misses him badly. But he’s still afraid. But he’s been feeling so alone. Evan takes another step closer. “I just want you to be happy, Dwight. I’m not going to hurt you again. But if you want me to leave you alone, then I will. Just know that…that I’d miss you.” Dwight takes a slow step forward.
“...I’d miss you too.” Dwight eventually says. “I miss you already.” He rubs his arm. “But I’m still afraid.”
“I’ll just have to work on that,” Evan replies. He walks towards Dwight and Dwight walks toward him too. Soon they’re face-to-face. Evan can see there’s something different in Dwight’s eyes. Evan suddenly grabs him and holds him close. Dwight hugs him back. Evan picks him up off the ground and kisses him. Dwight throws his legs around him and kisses him back, putting his arms around his neck. Evan stares at him.
“Do you want to go in?” He gestures to the front door with his head.
“To your room?” Dwight asks.
“If you want.”
“I do,” Dwight smiles. Evan is surprised at his forwardness, noting once again the difference in him.

Evan carries him over the threshold.

Chapter 10

Notes:

A few months have passed since writing chapter 9. Writer's block sucks!

Chapter 10

 

They kiss all the way up the stairs, then Dwight is put down at the door to Evan’s room.
“Lemme do the work this time,” Dwight says, leading Evan by the hand to the bed. He kisses Evan again as he pulls off his suit jacket and drops it on the floor. He quickly unbuttons Evan's shirt with finesse, and unbuckles his belt, pulls down his pants and underwear. Evan stands there, surprised at the change from a couple weeks ago. Dwight takes a break from kissing to take off his own shirt and pants. “Can you lie on the bed?” Dwight asks, taking off his own underwear while panting, breath shaking, already hard. Evan does so.

Dwight climbs on top of him, onto his lap. Evan is further surprised, placing his hands on Dwight’s soft thighs. “Can you hand me the lube?” Evan grabs it from the nightstand and hands it to him. Dwight pours it on his hand and grabs Evan’s cock, stroking it, getting it lubed up. He then lines himself up with it.
“You have to prepare yourself first,” Evan warns.
“I uh, got ready before coming over,” he laughs sheepishly, slipping in 2 lubed fingers to show that he’s ready.

He lowers himself down onto Evan, front facing him, and it slips inside with minor struggle.
He takes a deep breath as he reaches the base.
“Fuck, you’re so big,” he whines.
“And you’re so tight,” Evan squeezes his eyes shut, breathes deeply and squeezes Dwight’s thighs so he doesn’t cum at the sight or sensation of Dwight being on top. Dwight starts to move up and down, rocking his hips with expertise you wouldn’t expect from someone who was a shy virgin two weeks ago. He moans freely, leaning forward and tilting his hips to find the right angle.

“Mm, there we go,” he says cheerfully as he finds which angle is best. “Is this okay?” he asks Evan, out of breath. “It’s been quite a while since I uh, did this.”
“You’re doing great,” Evan smiles, grabbing Dwight by the waist. “Want me to take over now?”
“Let’s move together,” Dwight grabs Evan’s hands. They get into a rhythm of Dwight moving down with Evan’s thrusts. “Fuck, I’m getting close!” Dwight moans, throwing his head back as Evan’s right hand moves to jerk him off. Evan bucks his hips violently as Dwight finishes all over him. They continue moving until Evan finishes inside him.

Dwight climbs off and collapses on the bed next to Evan, face down into the pillow.
“My stamina isn't what it used to be,” he admits, referring to the near infinite stamina
he had in the realms.
“How’d you learn how to do that?” Evan asks, panting.
“Lots of practice,” Dwight says, muffled into the pillow.
“I guess there wasn’t much else to do, huh?”
“Not really,” Dwight turns his head and looks at him. “Kate and Aestri played music sometimes, Mikaela and Haddie told scary stories, Ace had cards…but uh,” he rolls over onto his back.

“Everyone was banging everyone.” He laughs.
“I see.”
“We couldn’t go far from the fire though, and people didn’t usually survive doing it during the Trials. Those lockers were cramped, too.”
“Who’d you do it with?”
“Um…” he takes off his glasses, deep in thought, rubbing them on a clean part of the blanket.
“...Mostly David. A lot of other people at least once; forever is a long time, after all.” He shrugs. He rolls over on his side to face Evan. “David never did get over that guy he knew, though, so eventually we stopped. You can be called the wrong name only so many times,” Dwight sighs. “So, what about you?” Dwight asks. Evan goes quiet.
“...I think it's just you.”

“Really?” Dwight says, surprised.
“Yeah. It’s all I can remember, at least.”
“Just that one time though, right?”
“Yeah.” Dwight gets sad. Evan really was all alone for the most part.
“Did you ever run into other killers in the fog?”
“Sometimes. Though most weren’t exactly the talkative type. There was never any kinship there, at least not for me.” Evan rolls onto his side to face Dwight. He touches Dwight’s face with his hand.
“It was really scary when you worked together though.” Evan goes deep into thought.
“Yeah, we did do that sometimes, huh?” He runs his hand through Dwight’s hair.

“...I still don’t know how you were able to handle it. You always seemed so miserable.”
“I was,” Evan sighs. “Always in pain. It never got any easier.” Evan rubs the back of his neck, where the two hooks from his overalls were stuck. Dwight wonders if he ever gets phantom pain.
“Do you ever hurt in your dreams?”
“Yeah.” Dwight wiggles over to Evan and wraps his arm around him. He rubs his back, nuzzling into his chest. Evan pulls him closer.
“I do too,” Dwight says. “It sucks.” A long silence falls as they both go deep in thought again.
“Hey Evan?”
“Yeah?”
“Why do you think we remember?”
“I don’t know.”
“My roommates…they’re my old best friends. Claudette, Meg and Jake. But they don’t remember.”
“I thought so when I heard Claudette’s name.”
“What brought us together, you think? We met on an old online survival game.”
“I don’t know, but I have a theory.”
“A theory?”
“There’s probably at least one other Entity, a benevolent one. It might be watching over us in some capacity. To keep us from being taken again, for example.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. I think I would’ve been taken by now otherwise.”
“What makes you think that?”
“My art. I think it may serve as a conduit to that other place if I’m not careful.”
“That’s scary!”
“Yeah.”

“...Do you think my roommates will ever remember?”
“Maybe.”
“Wait, you said before that someone responded to your art online!” Dwight sits up. “Who was it? Do you know?”
“Not yet. But I’ve been thinking about something.”
“Hm?
“I’ve been thinking about…holding an art exhibition.”
“Really? That’s awesome!”
“I’m thinking that it’ll draw anyone who vaguely remembers. If I can get the word out, that is.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help,” Dwight gives a thumbs up. Evan thinks that’s a habit that he picked up from someone. Rebecca was her name.

“...Hey Evan?” Dwight asks, lying back down and grabbing Evan’s hand, playing with his fingers.
“Yeah?”
“Did you uh, sleep with anyone in this life?”
“Yeah.”
“How many?”
“I don’t count. I tried to get over you a lot though, and it never worked. I always ended up choosing someone that reminded me of you. Even after that Hockey game. And I always feel like shit after.”
“People that remind you of me?”
“Big doe eyes. Nervous. Kind. Brave,” he rubs Dwight’s arm.
“Brave? I wouldn’t say I’m brave,” he laughs.
“Your bravery got you killed all the time, saving your friends.” Evan says, almost scoldingly.
“Sorry…” Evan ruffles his hair.
“Don’t worry about it,” he sighs.

“...Can we do it one more time? I want a break from thinking again…The past two weeks sucked.”
“Sure,” Evan says, pulling Dwight closer to him, grabbing their members together into his large, rough hand, getting them both hard again. Dwight melts in his embrace.

 

A month passes; it’s now October. On a Friday, Evan is handling the final preparations for his gallery, which will be held next Thursday, October 31st. Evan walks out of his office at 4:55pm and approaches Dwight’s desk.
“I got another RSVP,” Evan tells him.
“Really!? That’s great!” Dwight leans forward in his chair and smiles excitedly.
“Mhm, it’s not very many but it’s something.”
They take the elevator down together, and Dwight fights the urge to hold Evan’s hand, noting that there’s a camera and that the doors can open at any floor.
“You still coming over for the weekend?” Evan asks, looking down at Dwight. Evan grazes Dwight’s arm with the back of his hand.
“If that’s still okay!”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I got my clothes and stuff in my car,” Dwight scratches the back of his neck, turning red at Evan’s touch. Right before the doors open, Evan wraps his arm around Dwight's shoulders and whispers in his ear.
“See you then.”

Dwight clears his throat and adjusts his tie as the doors open, his face thoroughly red.
They walk out and head to their respective vehicles, then both head for Evan’s house.
In about an hour they’re both in pajamas and sitting on the floor in front of the couch, Dwight sitting between Evan’s legs, watching TV. Evan wraps his arms around him as Dwight flips through the available TV shows.
“Oh shit, Stranger Things! They readded it!” Dwight says excitedly, seeing Steve and Nancy in the preview. “David mentioned it came out before he was taken. He flipped out when he saw them show up. Remember Steve, Nancy and Jonathan? I wonder how they’re doing.”
“It’s a shame you can’t talk to them again.”
“Yeah…it’s nice to see them on this though. It means they didn’t completely die, they kept living their lives,” Dwight selects another show. “...it feels kinda invasive to watch it though, huh?”

“I wonder,” Dwight continues. “If they have counterparts in this world, besides their actors that look just like them.”
“Who knows.”
“Do you ever wonder if you exist in another universe? Or like if you’re fictional in another world?”
“Don’t think too hard about that,” Evan ruffles Dwight’s hair. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
“You’re right, I already gave myself a headache,” Dwight laughs. “Have you seen this one yet? It’s supposed to be good.”
“Not yet.” Dwight selects the first episode and sinks down lower, resting his chin on Evan’s arms, getting comfortable. They sit in silence as they watch the first episode. Eventually Evan notices Dwight squirming a lot. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m just um…nervous about the art exhibition,” Dwight fidgets with his hands.
“Why’s that?”
“Well, what if no one shows up that remembers? I don’t wanna talk your ear off all the time.”
“At least one person that remembers is showing up, trust me.”
“You sure?”
“As long as nothing comes up for them, yeah,” he says as he pets Dwight’s hair.
“Okay…” Dwight sinks down again. Silence starts again as they turn on the second episode. About halfway through, Dwight pauses it.
“Hey, Evan?”
“Yeah?”
“Do I talk too much?”
“No. I like listening to you. Not much of a talker myself.”
“I like listening to you too!”
“I’ll answer if you ask me things. Ask me anything.”
“Okay, uh, what was your first life like? You don’t say much about it.”

“My Father was a monster. But he was strong, so I looked up to him. He killed my mother when I was young. He was sadistic and cruel to everyone around him. He forbade me from art and got me into hunting. It started small, with mice. Worked our way up to bears. Finally, it was people.”
“People…” Dwight goes quiet and rubs Evan’s arm. Evan sighs.
“A lot of people.” Dwight sits up and turns to face him.
“H-how many?”
“Over one hundred.” Dwight’s face goes cold. “And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it for a long time. I am my Father’s son, after all. I was an awful man, like him. But after that final slaughter, I decided I was done. But that…thing had other plans for me. I resisted for a very, very long time, but…you know the rest.”
“That’s why you were so hurt?”
“Yeah.”

Dwight thinks about it. Part of him, the Morely part of him, feels deeply disturbed at the number of murders he committed outside of the fog. But the Fairfield part of him understands that that’s all in the past, and he had suffered for a countless number of years for it already. Dwight studies Evan's face, his finger tracing where his scars were, while deep in thought. Evan sighs and places his hands on Dwight's sides, “I don’t deserve you,” Evan says as he looks down. “I don’t deserve anything but punishment.” Dwight makes a worried expression.
“That’s not true! You already paid for it. You paid for it a lot. And then you died. Isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t know.”
“How could you possibly be punished more?”
“By losing you.”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere, so don’t even think about it!” Dwight wraps his arms around Evan’s neck and pulls him close. Evan sits there quietly, trying not to dwell on the fact that he’s killed Dwight many, many times. He wraps his arms around him and holds him tight.