Spring was Jamie's favorite season. He loved the somber softness of the snow, the riotous beauty of the fall colors, the lush vitality of the summer, but spring—spring was when the days seemed most full of possibility, waking up again after the long winter, color creeping back into a world of gray and black and brown.

It was the first really nice day of the year, warm enough to go without a sweater, and the sun felt good on his skin. In Rice Hall, he found Bennett on the way back to his office, holding his mail.

"Hello, Jamie," Bennett said, in that odd formal tone he always got when Jamie saw him around campus.

"Hello, Professor Marlowe," Jamie said, grinning. "Do you have a moment?"

"A moment," Bennett said, shooting Jamie a warning look as he unlocked the door and let them both inside. "You really shouldn't—"

"Yeah, yeah," Jamie said, waving a hand as he pulled the door shut behind himself. "I haven't visited your office since last week—believe me, I've been keeping track."

Bennett shook his head, but he was smiling.

"What did you need?" Bennett said, sitting in his chair as he sorted through the envelopes.

"I just wanted to see my boyfriend," Jamie said, flopping down into a chair. "Do I need more excuse than that?"

Bennett looked at him a little archly from over the top of the letter he'd opened and Jamie rolled his eyes.

"Did you hear back yet?" Jamie said. Bennett, with Peter's encouragement, had submitted the essay he'd written about his experiences to a few publications.

"Not yet," Bennett said. "It'll probably be a few more weeks, unfortunately."

"Well, I'm excited for when you win like, seven different awards and get published in every magazine ever."

Bennett smiled.

"That's… not exactly how it works, but I appreciate your vote of confidence."

They looked at each other for a quiet moment.

"You probably shouldn't stay too long," Bennett said. Jamie made a face.

"God, I can't wait until you get tenure and this is over," Jamie said. He was pouting, he knew, but he couldn’t stop himself.

"Jamie…" Bennett said.

"I know, okay?" Jamie said, frowning. "I just don't like feeling like your dirty little secret."

Bennett put the letter down and looked at Jamie for a long moment.

"Do you really feel that way?"

Jamie squirmed under the intensity of Bennett's gaze.

"A little, yeah," Jamie said, looking away. His face was heating up.

"I don't want you to feel like that," Bennett said, his voice sad. Jamie kept staring down at the floor.

"I know you don't," he said, a little sullenly. "But… it happens sometimes anyway."

Bennett was quiet for a moment.

"Let me make it up to you," he said, and this time Jamie glanced up.

"How?" Jamie said, raising an eyebrow. "Sex stuff?"

Bennett rolled his eyes.

"Well, always, but… I was thinking… what are you doing for spring break?"

Jamie tried not to get his hopes up.

"Uh, nothing special," he said, as casually as he could. "Why?"

"Let's go somewhere," Bennett said. "Get out of Linfield for a few days."

Jamie sat up in his chair, grinning.

"Seriously? You really mean that?"

"Of course I do," Bennett said.

"And we can celebrate your birthday—"

Bennett shuddered.

"Don't remind me," he said. Bennett would be turning forty soon, and Jamie had noticed Bennett had been having difficulty with the transition into a new decade. "Pick out somewhere you want to go—well, maybe keep it within the continental U.S., and I'll arrange the details. We can have some time together where we… don't have to worry about being seen if we go out."

Jamie was smiling so hard now his cheeks hurt. He threw himself out of the chair and went around to the other side of Bennett's desk, falling into his lap and kissing him.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou," Jamie said between kisses. "This is going to be the best spring break ever."

* * *

At long last, Jamie was going to see the ocean.

The landscape changed as they drove, the hills that cradled Linfield growing tall and steep as the interstate wound through the mountains, and then dropping away entirely as they neared the coast.

Jamie was nervous and excited and melancholy all at once, a jumble of emotions like the wildflowers that had spilled across the hills as they'd left Linfield.

"Are you okay?" Bennett said softly, reaching across the console for Jamie's hand, squeezing it. "You're quiet."

"Yeah," Jamie said. "I was just thinking that… going to the beach and seeing the ocean was… this symbol, you know, for my mom and I when I was a kid, of… something better. When things were really bad with my dad, or after he left when my mom was… having a bad time mentally, we'd talk about our trip to the ocean, even when I started to realize that… it probably wouldn't ever happen, at least not for my mom. Sort of like… We'll always have Paris kind of thing, you know? Except Paris is a beach we never went to."

Jamie took a deep breath, a lump forming in his throat.

"I know it's kind of silly, but… what if I hate it? What if it smells weird or a seagull poops on me or I've been building it up in my mind all these years into some totally unattainable fantasy?"

"If you hate it, then we can always leave," Bennett said, gripping his hand tighter. "And I don't think that's silly at all. If you really want to, we don't have to go at all—"

"No, I want to go," Jamie said, biting his lip. "Just… worrying, like I do." He looked over at Bennett, drinking in his strong, serious profile in the fading evening light. "And I'm glad I'm going with you."

Bennett glanced at him and smiled.

"I'm glad you are too."

* * *

"I can hear it," Jamie said as he threw the window open. "We're so close."

"Just a block away," Bennett said, coming up behind Jamie and holding him. "I tried to get one on the beach itself but they were already booked."

"This is perfect," Jamie said, spinning around to look up at Bennett. "Seriously. I would have been happy in a sleeping bag in the back of the car—"

"Ah, yes, but some of us are not spry and young," Bennett said, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

Jamie pulled away and threw himself on the king-sized bed.

"I feel like I'm on a giant cloud," Jamie said, rolling around on the impossibly soft bedspread. "Except… I guess clouds are… probably cold and wet, actually. So maybe like, a big warm croissant." Bennett had found them an adorable bed and breakfast to stay in, a beautifully restored Victorian, and it was the most luxurious place Jamie had ever seen. "How many ghosts do you think are in here?"

"None, I hope," Bennett said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "For what they charge, I'm going to be irritated if I wake up to the specter of a woman in a bloody wedding dress or something standing at the end of the bed."

Jamie wriggled around so he was closer to Bennett.

"About the cost—" he started, but Bennett immediately held up a hand, twisting around to look at him.

"Jamie, please, consider it… a belated Christmas present. Or an early birthday present."

"But it's your birthday," Jamie said.

"And the best thing you could possibly give me is just being here," Bennett said, running his hand through Jamie's hair.

"Maybe there's… something else I could give you?" Jamie said, raising an eyebrow as he ran his hand up Bennett's thigh. Bennett laughed.

"I know it's been almost ten hours since you last came—"

"—practically a lifetime—" Jamie whined.

"—but let's get dinner first. It's getting late."

Jamie grumbled, but he rolled off the bed and followed Bennett out of the room.

Jamie still felt a little uncomfortable about the fact that Bennett was paying for everything. They'd had conversations about it before, and though it was getting easier, Jamie still found himself wishing he had the money to at least offer to pay Bennett back, even if Bennett refused.

But Jamie was distracted from this line of thinking when Bennett took his hand as they walked to the little main street of the town they were in.

"Really?" Jamie said, looking down at their entwined hands.

"Yes, really," Bennett said. "I told you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but I thought you'd… get all weird and embarrassed and not want to be seen with me," Jamie said.

Bennett stopped abruptly and tugged Jamie to him. He kissed Jamie hard, right there in the middle of the street—it was dark out, and they were on an empty side street, but Jamie didn't even care.

Bennett broke away, frowning down at Jamie, still holding him close.

"You are charming and lovely and perfect and I don't ever want to hear you say that again," he said. "I'd never be ashamed to be with you."

Jamie could feel his face heating up at the praise.

"Do you believe me?" Bennett said sternly.

"I do," said Jamie, looking up at Bennett and biting back a smile. "But if you keep talking to me in that tone of voice I'm gonna get a boner again."

Bennett rolled his eyes.

"Insatiable. Let's get dinner."

They found a little French restaurant that was absurdly romantic, all soft candlelight and muted music and tiny tables perfect for leaning in towards one's dinner partner.

"I feel like we should have dressed up," Jamie whispered as they opened at the menu. "This place is… fancy." He gestured down at his hoodie and jeans.

"Maybe you're just an eccentric billionaire," Bennett suggested.

The food, like the ambiance, was perfect. The menus were in French, but Bennett, of course, had known what everything was. Jamie, at Bennett's recommendation, ended up with some seafood stew dish that was impossible to pronounce but tasted incredible.

And though he was so full he thought he might burst, Jamie insisted on looking at the dessert menu.

"Have you decided yet?" their server said, an older woman with a kind smile.

"We'll take one of everything," Jamie said.

"Just a minute more," Bennett said.

"I have one his age, too," the server said, winking conspiratorially at Bennett. "Eats us out of house and home every time he comes back to visit."

Bennett's face went white.

Jamie waited until she'd bustled off to burst out laughing.

"Oh my fucking god—" Jamie said, catching his breath. "Did she just—"

Bennett looked like he'd just swallowed an insect.

"Oh, come on," Jamie said, raising an eyebrow. "It's a little funny."

"It's really not."

Jamie sighed and looked back down at the dessert menu.

"Okay, so when you're done pouting, let me know if you want to split a dessert—although, when I say split, I mean you get something and I get something and I eat both of them."

Bennett didn't respond, and Jamie looked up to see Bennett still wearing the same severe expression.

"Okay, okay, I'll let you try some of mine—" Jamie said, forcing a laugh.

Bennett was still silent.

Jamie reached for Bennett's hand, which was resting on the table, and Bennett jerked away, nearly knocking over his water glass. Jamie frowned.

"Bennett—it's not a big deal—" Jamie said.

"It is a big deal," Bennett hissed, narrowing his eyes. His mouth was pressed into a grim slash, and a muscle was twitching in his neck.

"We've been having a nice night," Jamie said as Bennett squeezed his eyes shut and scrubbed a hand over his face. Jamie could practically see the gears of Bennett's mind grinding. "Just—"

"Just what, Jamie?" Bennett snapped, his voice low so no one in the small restaurant would overhear them. Jamie recoiled like he'd been burned.

"Bennett," Jamie said in a small voice. "Come on. It's awkward. But we'll laugh about it—"

"This isn't a fucking joke," Bennett said, and his expression was so harsh Jamie barely recognized him. "Do you have any idea how humiliating this is?"

Jamie's eyes—predictably—began to burn and he looked up, willing himself not to cry for once in his goddamn life.

"Pick something out yet?"

The server was back, her voice jarringly cheery in the tension thick between them.

"We're ready for the check, actually," Jamie said to the ceiling. She sensed that something had happened, and she quickly disappeared to get their check.

After Bennett had paid—for his own birthday dinner, Jamie thought bitterly—they walked back to the room in stony silence.

"Jamie—" Bennett said when he shut the door behind them. His voice was softer now.

"What?" Jamie said, whirling around. He'd spent the short walk back to the bed and breakfast trying to keep the tears from spilling—the look on Bennett's face in the restaurant, something close to revulsion, was seared into his memory.

"I'm sorry—" Bennett said.

"Are you, though?" Jamie said. "Because earlier this evening you said never be ashamed to be with me, but whatever the fuck that was that just happened sure looked like shame to me—"

"Jamie," Bennett said, cutting him off. "Surely you can see the difference between—"

"You're older than me, Bennett," Jamie snapped. "I fucking get it. I don't care. But apparently you do. We've been together for five months now, and honestly, I'm tired of feeling like I'm always chasing you. You say you love me, you say you want to be with me, but if that's really true—then maybe fucking act like it for once—"

"You're being unfair," Bennett said. "You know this is something I'm self-conscious about, and being mistaken for your father is mortifying."

"You're missing the point," Jamie said, narrowing his eyes. He felt a sharp bite of pain and realized he was clenching his fists so hard his nails were digging into his palms.

"Be honest with me. Is your tenure application just an excuse? Once you get tenure, what's going to be your next reason for not being seen with me?"

Bennett's mouth dropped open.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "We've talked about this before—once I hear back from the committee with a final decision—"

"The whole point of coming here," Jamie said, tangling his hand in his hair and tugging, "is that we didn't have to worry about other people—"

"That was before someone thought you were my child—"

"Fucking drop it, Bennett," Jamie said, the words coming out louder than he meant in the hush of the bed and breakfast. Anyone standing in the hall would be able to hear them fighting.

"What more do you want from me?" Bennett asked harshly. "I've told you I love you, I took you on vacation here. What else are you going to need me to do to prove that I care? Nothing's ever enough for you."

Jamie's mouth dropped open.

"Holy shit," he whispered after a moment. "Holy fucking shit."

"Jamie—" Bennett said. "I'm sorry—I shouldn't have said that."

"Why did you say it, Bennett?" Jamie said, his voice low. His anger had vanished, replaced by a dark, icy shock.

"I—I didn't mean that—" Bennett took a step closer, one hand out like he was approaching a wild animal.

"I think you did mean it," Jamie said. "I think you mean it, and this is just the first time you've been upset enough to say what you've really been feeling."

"That's not—"

Bennett was frowning at him, and suddenly, Jamie felt like he barely knew this man he loved, this man he thought had loved him.

"I—I need to go," Jamie said, the words catching in his throat.

"Wait—" Bennett said, reaching out for Jamie, but Jamie twisted away as he rushed out the door.

The door slammed loudly behind him and Jamie stomped down the hallway.

When he reached the stairs, Jamie turned and looked back at the door to the room, hoping that it would burst open, that Bennett would chase after him and beg him not to go.

But the door remained stubbornly closed, the hallway quiet.

Jamie choked back a sob as he left.