After they finished talking, Andy left Rory to lick his wounds and sulk in peace. He must have fallen asleep, though, because the next thing he knew, the slant of the light through his window had shifted and someone was knocking on his bedroom door.

"I'm not in the mood, Andy," Rory yelled.

"It's me."

Rory sat up, eyes wide. He shot across the room and pulled the door open to find Milo Ventura standing there, wild-eyed and beautiful and still somehow so elegant, holding a bouquet of flowers.

Rory blinked, not quite convinced that he wasn't dreaming.

"Huh?" Rory said stupidly.

"I'm sorry, Rory," Milo said. "You're right. I was lying to myself. I do love you. I want to go with you to California and I want to be with you and I don't want you to feel like I'm lukewarm about our relationship because I realized that you're the most important person in my life and I don't know what I'd do if I lost you and—"

Milo stopped abruptly.

"Are you… listening to me?" he asked.

Rory opened his mouth—there were so many things he wanted to say, all fighting with one another to get out first.

But instead, he found himself saying—

"Did you bring me flowers?"

Milo glanced down at the bouquet he was cradling in the crook of his arm like a baby, as though he'd just realized they were there.

"Oh," he said. "Er—yes."

Rory was so shocked he still couldn't seem to formulate words, and he could see Milo—normally so confident and inscrutable—begin to falter.

"Rory, I…" he said trailing off.

Rory gave up on words—he'd never been very good with them anyway. He threw his arms around Milo's neck and kissed him so hard, so fiercely, that Milo nearly stumbled back into the hall.

Milo dropped the bouquet in surprise, and his arms flew to Rory's waist, holding him so tightly Rory couldn't have pulled away even if he wanted to. After a moment, though, Milo broke the kiss, looking breathless and desperate.

"Does this—" he started. "Does this mean you forgive me?"

Rory couldn't help laughing.

"Of course I forgive you," Rory said. "That's what love is. That's what relationships are."

He tried to kiss Milo again, but Milo pulled back. He seemed distraught.

"Wait—" he said. "We should—we should talk—"

"Hang on a second," Rory said, raising an eyebrow. "Milo Ventura wants to talk instead of make out?"

This earned a faint flicker of a smile from Milo, but he immediately looked worried again.

"I'm serious, Rory—" Milo said, frowning. "We should talk before you decide if—"

"Decide what?" Rory said.

"Decide if you want to take me back," Milo said, and for once, the emotion in his expression was easy to read. He was terrified.

Rory brought his hands to cup Milo's face, pulling him closer and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"Milo," Rory said. "If you're ready to do this, then so am I."

Milo drew a deep breath and licked his lips.

"I am. I do," he said, his voice shaky.

"Okay then," Rory said, and happiness welled in him, burning warm and radiant like an ember.

"I need—I need to say something, though," Milo pleaded.

"Er—okay," Rory said, stepping back.

"It's not bad," Milo said. "Don't—-you look scared."

He picked up the flowers and shut the door. He was gripping the bouquet so hard the paper was crumpling beneath his hands, as though he were clinging to the edge of a cliff.

Milo looked down at the flowers as he spoke.

"When you said you felt like I was still being lukewarm to you, it—it scared me. Because I'd been trying really fucking hard to express myself a little better, so you wouldn't… have to worry about that."

Milo paused, drawing another breath and letting out in a long, measured exhale.

"If we're going to do this, I'm gonna keep working on that. But—I need to ask you to understand that I am working on it, even if I backslide sometimes. I… I can't make the promise that I'll never freak out and shut down again, because I'm still… I'm still fucked up, okay? The progress isn't going to be linear."

Rory pressed a hand to his mouth, his eyes pricking with tears—but this time, he wasn't tearing up because he was heartbroken.

Quite the opposite—he wasn't sure his heart had ever felt so full of love.

Milo was frowning at him.

"Rory?"

"I'm—I'm—" Rory stammered, smiling. He couldn't help himself—he threw his arms around Milo again, squeezing him tightly, the bouquet smashed between their chests. "I'm so fucking proud of you."

He pulled back.

"Sorry—I didn't mean that in a patronizing way or anything—" Rory said, backtracking suddenly, but Milo was smiling shyly, a rare blush spreading across his pale face.

"No, I know what you mean," Milo said. "I'm… proud of me too. I never thought I'd… have this. Have… someone like you. Have someone worth… trying for."

Rory pried the bouquet out of Milo's hands and set it on the desk. Peonies, he noticed, like the flowers tattooed on the inside of Milo's bicep. He grabbed Milo's hands.

"We don't need to fix everything right away," Rory said. "I have a bunch of my own shit I need to work on. But—but we can keep trying. Keep working on it. Keep growing, you know?"

"My therapist would cry with happiness if she could hear us right now," Milo said. "Look at us. Being mature adults."

"Disgusting," Rory said with a smile. He bit his lip. "So, um, what's your therapist's professional opinion on make-up sex?"

Milo raised an eyebrow, pulling Rory in closer. He leaned down, his lips brushing against Rory's ear.

"I think that might be just what we need right now," he said.

Rory towed him towards the bed, sinking down and pulling Milo on top of him. Milo looked down at him, his arms framing Rory's shoulders.

"I love you, Rory Fisher," Milo said.

Rory smiled.

"I know," Rory said. "I love you, too."

* * *

They were absurdly late to brunch.

The others were already sitting down, most of the way through their meal, when Rory and Milo showed up, hair mussed and clothing still a little askew. They were teased mercilessly, but Rory could feel the warmth and love radiating from everyone at the table.

"I want to tell you all something," Milo said, once they'd all finished eating.

"You got a job," Kit guessed.

"No, I—"

"You adopted a cat," Jamie volunteered.

"What? No, we—"

"You're joining a monastery," Peter said.

"Stop that," Milo said, but he was smiling. Milo glanced over at Rory and took his hand. "If you'll let me finish, I wanted to tell you all that… we're… moving to California."

"Wait—" Kit said, frowning. "Really?"

Milo nodded, still holding tightly to Rory's hand. And then, suddenly, Kit was right behind them, squeezing them both so hard Rory almost couldn't breathe.

"I'm going to miss you so goddamn much," Kit said. "But I'm so happy for you."

When the congratulations died down, Milo continued.

"I also wanted to say something else—"

"You are adopting a cat," Jamie said again, and Milo shot him a dirty look.

"As I was saying," Milo said. "This year has been… difficult for me. But I wanted to thank you all for being so kind and patient and generous with me."

He paused, looking down at the last bits of toast left on his plate.

"I've learned a lot from you, and I'm going to miss you all terribly," he said. "But… I need a fresh start, too, outside of Linfield. And… wherever Rory goes, I go."

Now it was Rory's turn to look down into his lap as he was overcome with a sweet, fierce rush of love for the man sitting beside him.

They had both grown and changed that year, Rory realized. Milo was learning to open himself up, to be vulnerable, to trust. And Rory was learning to trust, too, to take risks, to ask for what he wanted, to fight for it.

And wasn't that the point of love, of life? Not to find something comfortable, good enough, as his relationship with Georgina had been—but to find something powerful and deep, to find someone that pushed to him to grow, to bloom, to be a better version of himself.

The future was wild, unknown, unpredictable, but Rory only felt anticipation, excitement.

He squeezed Milo's hand under the table, and Milo squeezed his hand back.

There was no one Rory would rather share that with.

* * *

The last weeks of the semester flew by in a haze of love and sex and graduation parties. Rory endured several excruciating family events to celebrate his graduation, but this time, Milo was by his side as Rory's real boyfriend—the person he'd chosen to build a new life with in a new city.

The future seemed to sparkle before him like sun on water.

Rory couldn't quite believe his time at Bellamy was over. Though by now he'd sat through an absurd number of graduation ceremonies, the fact that he was leaving didn't quite sink in until he did one last sweep of his now empty room.

"I'm definitely visiting you," Andy said as he appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame. "And you better learn how to surf so you can teach me."

Rory rolled his eyes.

"I'm not sure the San Francisco Bay is known for its killer waves, or whatever, bro," Rory said.

Andy grinned, then paused.

"Seriously, though," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Good luck. I'm glad things worked out with Milo."

"Are you?" Rory said, raising an eyebrow.

"I am," Andy insisted. "Really. I haven't even hung out with him that much but I can tell he's trying."

"He is," Rory said, biting back a smile. "He's… really come a long way."

"I guess people can change," Andy said. "On an unrelated note, I'm, uh, seeing Drew this summer."

"Wait, really?" Rory said, and he could feel his face lighting up with excitement. "An unrelated note, sure."

"Oh, shut the fuck up," Andy said. "Yeah, we're both gonna be at our friends' wedding. So… I dunno."

"Oh my god," Rory said. "You're blushing."

"Shut up," Andy said again. "I am not."

"Andy and Drew, sitting in a tree…" Rory sang.

"Oh my god, I wish I hadn't said anything," Andy grumbled, but he was smiling. "Besides, he's probably dating someone, so whatever."

"Fingers crossed that he's not so you can laid," Rory said. "Speaking of, I should probably see where Milo's at."

Andy made a face.

"Gross," he said. "Get out of here, lovebird."

"You better come visit, though," Rory said.

"I will, I will," Andy said as he followed Rory to the door.

"And let me know how it goes at the wedding," Rory said, wiggling his eyebrows lasciviously at Andy, who'd gone bright red again.

"Fuck you," Andy said, laughing.

"Fuck you too, bro," Rory said with a grin.

And somehow, saying goodbye to Andy was what made Rory realize that his time at Bellamy, his time in Linfield, was really over.

* * *

Rory and Milo were at the airport, waiting for their flight to San Francisco. They'd checked bags with the essentials, but most of their things had been shipped and would be arriving a few days later.

"You okay?" Rory asked. Milo, sitting beside him in the austere plastic-molded chairs of the Linfield International Airport, had gone tense and quiet.

"Yeah," Milo said, flashing a tense, very fake smile.

"Milo…" Rory said gently, reaching over to take Milo's hand. "Are you freaking out?"

Milo hesitated, and Rory could tell he was fighting back the impulse to brush off Rory's concern. Anxiety fluttered in Rory's throat.

"Yeah," he said finally. "But—not because of—I'm not freaking out about moving with you."

"What is it, then?" Rory said.

"I'm… oh, god, this is embarrassing but flying freaks me out, okay?" Milo said.

Rory burst out laughing.

"Hey," Milo said. "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not," Rory said, leaning over to kiss Milo on the cheek. "You're adorable, you know that right?"

"Shut up," Milo grumbled. "I'm cool and intimidating."

"That's what I thought at first," Rory said. "But now I know you're a big sci-fi nerd with a heart of gold."

"Not gold. Pyrite."

"What?" Rory said.

"Pyrite," Milo repeated. "Fool's gold. I took a geology class in undergrad."

Rory snorted.

"You're only proving my point about the nerd thing," Rory said. "And I've got your number. You're a big sap underneath it all. But seriously—is there anything I can do to make you feel less nervous?"

"Um, suck my dick on the plane?" Milo suggested, and Rory swatted his arm. "No, there isn't, but thank you, though. I appreciate you asking."

Milo looped his arm around Rory, pulling him close, and Rory rested his head against Milo's shoulder. The armrest between them dug into his side, but he didn't mind. It was a small price to pay to be close to Milo.

"I love you, Rory," Milo said after a moment. "I'm excited about this. About California."

"Me too," Rory said happily, shutting his eyes for a moment. The last few weeks had been a blur of planning and packing, but it would still be a while before he could rest.

But for now, he had what he needed. He had Milo, and together, they had a future.