#wyson

Carson discreetly linked his fingers in Wyatt’s as he pulled him onto the beach. Carson hadn’t been in a while and he hadn’t bought beach passes, he just kinda... parked and snuck them in the back way. “Maybe you’ll tan,” he said with a smile, trying to invite Wyatt to loosen up. “Or I could bury you in the sand?”

Carson had not been planning on Wyatt meeting his parents so soon. Or ever. His family was a fucking mess lately and as he stood on his own doorstep feeling like a stranger, he couldn’t help but wonder if they’d... Scare Wyatt away. Not that they were really together or anything. But Carson had been with a lot of guys and not a lot of them could’ve handled this. Then again, when Carson had told Wyatt he needed to go home, there had been no question of whether he was coming or not. And now here they were.

Carson really didn’t want to wake Wyatt, but his RA certainly did. Or, at least, he didn’t care enough to keep his voice down. Carson slowly extracted his arm from underneath his boyfriend’s sleepy figure and carefully got off the bed. But as soon as his feet hit the floor, he was gone at full force. He backed his RA into the hallway, ignoring all his little digs and dirty looks toward Wyatt.

Carson wanted to cry. He’d wanted to cry for the last month and he just couldn’t make himself do it. He was worried about Wyatt, was all. He knew that. So he thought spring formal would help... Maybe they could get back to normal. Doubtful, but worth a try. He knocked on Wyatt’s door tentatively. “You ready?”

Carson had been working on this Annie bullshit for almost four straight days. His insomnia was worse than usual which meant on top of not sleeping, his internal clock was fucked and he’d skipped most meals. All he wanted was to get to the bottom of this, for himself, for his brother, for Wyatt. Wyatt. He suddenly remembered Wyatt had said he’d wanted to talk and was coming over. How long ago was that? Carson picked up his phone to check when someone knocked on the door. He hopped off the bed, made it to the door, yanked it open, and suddenly his legs were giving out. Thank God it was- "Wyatt- fuck-" Carson grabbed onto him as he went down, head spinning.

❤️

”Your happiness comes before mine.”

Carson sprinted up the stairs to Wyatt’s dorm, his heartbeat in his ears and his stomach in his throat. He might’ve acted cool for the cops, but he was freaking out now that he had to talk to Wyatt.  He had so many questions. He was half worried that Wyatt had turned himself in, or would, but he was also scared that the police wouldn’t rest till they figured it all out. Plus, DNA evidence... What else could that mean? He reached Wyatt’s door and pounded on it hard, making sure he was heard. “Wyatt! It’s me, open up!” he yelled, and stepped back, breathless.