Jamie woke up with a massive hangover and a text from his friend Finn.

>>FINN: late notice but I’m in town… are you free to hang out?

Jamie groaned and sat up on the couch. It took him a moment to realize where he was.

"He lives," someone said, and Jamie looked over to see Kit curled up on the other couch with a cup of tea.

"Morning," Jamie said. His forehead was damp with sweat, and he pushed his hair back. "I'm not sure if I'd call this living."

"Hung over?" Kit asked.

"Either that or I suddenly came down with a horrific flu," Jamie said, smiling weakly as he took stock of his body. The living room seemed flooded with light, like the sun was hovering just outside the window, glaring in at them, and it felt as if a small gnome were hammering at his left temple with a pick-ax.

"Water and aspirin," said Kit, gesturing to the coffee table. "If you can manage to eat something, that will help too. We got you to drink a lot of water last night, so you're probably feeling better than you would have otherwise."

Last night—

The previous night came back to him in fragments, like clutching at a handful of papers scattered in the wind.

"How much do you remember?" Kit said with a crooked smile.

"Um… oh my god—" Jamie said, eyes going wide. "Oh, shit, I saw B—my professor didn't I?"

Kit snorted.

"Yeah, he hauled you back from the bathroom at one point," Kit said.

"Oh my god," Jamie said, burying his head in his hands. It came flooding back to him, the conversation in the hall—a little patchy but—

He remembered clinging to Bennett, looking up at him, desperate need welling up in him like molten lava—and then—

Don't you know how much I want you?

"Yikes," Jamie said.

"He didn't seem to mind," Kit said mildly. "You kept disappearing throughout the night—I think you made a lot of new friends."

"Oh my god," Jamie said, running a hand through his hair. "I think I talked to like, everyone in the bar."

The alcohol had made him feel bubbly and social—even more so than usual—and somehow, in his drunken state, it had seemed like a good idea to stop by the other tables and chat with strangers.

And Bennett, too. Jamie remembered liking Bennett's friends—Peter, small and wiry and sparkling, and Mohammed, his handsome, serene husband.

"I'm so embarrassed," Jamie said, taking a sip of his water.

"Don't be," Kit said with a smile. "It was pretty adorable."

"Where's Milo?" Jamie said.

"Still asleep," Kit said, jerking their head towards the closed door. "He was at least as drunk as you, so I'm sure he's suffering today. Also us elders don't bounce back from hangovers as quickly as you will."

Jamie hauled himself up from the couch to make coffee and texted Finn as it brewed.

>>JAMIE: im incredibly hungover so i might throw up on you but yes sounds great

Finn responded quickly, and they made plans to meet up at a little diner not far from campus. Jamie did his best to freshen up in Milo's bathroom—he was still wearing last night's clothing and felt a bit like he'd licked a payphone, so he splashed water on his face and scrubbed toothpaste in his mouth with a finger.

When he was decently caffeinated and slightly less grungy, he said goodbye to Kit and headed out.

It was still early, the kind of pleasant fall morning that was cool and crisp without being chilly, the light slanted and golden. His headache lessened to a dull throb as he walked. He'd had a fun night, but he wasn't planning on drinking like that again any time soon—or at all. The drinks he'd had last night had tasted more like juice than anything alcoholic—which was part of the reason he'd ended up so drunk—but the sharp tang of liquor on a person's breath made him uneasy in a dark, primal part of himself, reminded him of raised voices and raised fists.

Better just to avoid it all together. Logically he knew he was nothing like his father, but—the fear remained.

He felt much better by the time he reached Chestnut Street, where he was meeting Finn. This neighborhood was close to campus, but Jamie hadn't spent much time here—the shops were mostly upscale boutiques with dim, recessed lighting or plastic surgery offices or restaurants where the entrees started at thirty dollars, and even though there were plenty of Bellamy students around, Jamie had always felt distinctly out of place.

"Jamie," a voice said, and Jamie turned to see Finn crossing the street towards him. Jamie smiled broadly as he and Finn hugged hello.

"How are you doing?" Finn said. "I haven't seen you in ages. And happy birthday!"

"Thanks," Jamie said, smiling. "I'm doing really well." It was an automatic response but it was true—the semester had sped by so far, a blur of time with Bennett and time waiting to be with Bennett. "So what brings you to town?"

They headed down the sidewalk towards the diner. Last week, Jamie had checked his campus mailbox and found a card from his grandma with one hundred dollars enclosed and a note ordering him not to use the money for anything sensible. Kit and Milo had refused to let Jamie pay for his drinks last night, and it felt good to have at least a little disposable income.

"Max has a race today," Finn said. "He won't row until the afternoon, but he's got warmups and stuff to do so I’m on my own."

Finn and his boyfriend Max had both rowed on the Bellamy crew team before graduating last year, and Max was now rowing competitively with a team out of Philadelphia, where they lived together.

"Is it weird?" Jamie asked. "Not racing, I mean." Jamie had been surprised that summer when Finn had told him he wouldn't be rowing competitively anymore—the sport had been Finn's whole world for over eight years.

"Yeah," Finn said as they got a seat. The little diner was a Linfield staple, its cracked plastic seats and slightly dingy linoleum suspended in time even as the rest of Chestnut Street grew ritzier. It was early enough that they were able to get a table quickly, but by eleven, there would be a line out the door of brunch-goers waiting to eat.

"I'm still glad I'm not racing," Finn said. "It's been good for me to just… row because I want to, not because I'm trying to… achieve something, you know? But coming back to Linfield made me realize I do miss some parts. I'm kind of… a little jealous of Max right now, actually." Finn looked down at his laminated menu with crooked smile on his handsome face. "Not that I'd ever tell him that—he'd feel so guilty."

"It makes sense," Jamie said. Their waitress set down two thick, chipped mugs of coffee in front of them and they thanked her. "It was a big part of your life."

"It was my entire life," Finn said, grinning. "For better or for worse."

"You're working full-time now, right?" Jamie asked. "Not engineering though?"

"Yeah," Finn said, rolling his eyes. "Two hundred thousand dollars for an engineering degree and I'm working at a non-profit now, but I'm happy."

After they ordered, Finn chatted with Jamie about his job at an LGBT advocacy center in Philadelphia. He loved his work—it was clear by the way his eyes shone as he talked about it.

It was strange, Jamie thought, that he'd once been so googly-eyed about Finn. Finn was certainly handsome, golden hair and classic features, but Jamie no longer felt anything beyond a steady, friendly affection. Even at his most enamored, that crush had been nothing compared to the dizzying bloom of want that Jamie felt when he saw Bennett.

Their food arrived and they continued to catch up about work, classes, and Finn's sister Mims, who'd started at Bellamy that year. Jamie hadn't run into her on campus yet, but apparently she was making the world her oyster, for better or for worse. Jamie had missed Finn, who was sweet and thoughtful and easy to talk to.

"How are things going with Max?" Jamie asked when Finn mentioned they were looking for a new place to live—their current apartment was falling apart around them. "Living together, I mean."

Finn's smile went dreamy.

"It's… so good," he said, pushing his eggs around his plate. "I can't even tell you how perfect it is."

Jamie laughed.

"Believe me, that puppy dog expression you have tells me everything," Jamie said, and Finn laughed at himself.

"I know, I know, we're gross," Finn said. He and Max had had a rocky senior year, but they'd clearly only grown closer because of it. "It's just like… I still can't quite believe it—I get to spend the rest of my life with my best friend. It's scary sometimes—how could I possibly deserve something this good, you know?"

"You definitely deserve it, Finn," Jamie said with a smile.

"It's been a little tough for him lately," Finn said. "His parents… aren't pleased about us living together."

"Oh no," Jamie said, frowning. "That's awful." That was one of the many reasons he was glad his own father hadn't stuck around—Jamie could only imagine the opinions he'd have on Jamie's sexuality.

"It's like, not even as much about the bisexual thing," Finn said. "Though I think they're kind of… weirded out by that. It's really more that he's just like, working retail instead of at some fancy research lab or something."

Jamie narrowed his eyes.

"That's absurd. He's happy, isn't he?"

Finn sighed.

"Yeah, but that's not enough, apparently." He rolled his eyes and leaned back slightly. "Whatever. He acts like it doesn't bother him, but I know it does. It just sucks watching him be in pain and pretend like he's fine."

"That's really hard," Jamie said. He looked down at his coffee mug, thinking of how sometimes, when he was in Bennett's office, he would glance up and catch Bennett staring out the window, frowning, looking sad and distant and alone.

"Ugh, but that's depressing. What about you?" Finn asked. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"Er…" Jamie glanced up at Finn, whose face lit up.

"Tell me," he said, leaning forward.

"I… there's nothing really to tell," Jamie said.

Finn raised an eyebrow and waited.

"Fuck," Jamie said. He glanced around at the other patrons, but no one in the now-crowded diner was listening. "Um, I'm gonna tell you something and I need you to not repeat it to anyone. Like, not even Max."

"Yeah, of course," Finn said, looking concerned.

Haltingly, Jamie told Finn about Bennett, about the night they'd met and the charged current of desire that always hummed between them, about the stolen kiss, about how Bennett seemed to want and not want Jamie all at once.

"Last night is… pretty patchy but… I'm, like, fairly certain I tried to make out with him in the hallway outside the bathroom." Jamie looked up and immediately burst out laughing. Finn's jaw was hanging open, and he looked both shocked and delighted by Jamie's story.

"Holy shit," Finn said.

"Yeah, it was… I'm pretty embarrassed."

"So, you think maybe after the semester ends, you two might…?"

Jamie felt his face flushing.

"I don't know. I… don’t really think so. I mean, I can't imagine us actually being together. I just feel like such a little kid compared to him sometimes, like this little puppy dog sort of biting at his ankles looking for attention."

"That's a pretty unflattering comparison," Finn said, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, everything you've told me indicates he's into you. He kissed you, after all."

"Yeah," Jamie said, unconvinced. "I’m… trying not to get my hopes up. I mean its's one thing to sort of… be like, Hey Jamie, you're amazing, but… his life and his friends and everything about him is so glamorous and cool and I'm just… me."

"Jamie," Finn said.

"Okay, okay, that sounded way more pathetic than I meant," Jamie said with a crooked grin, but Finn's lips were still pressed together in a thin line. "It's not like I think I'm some horrible cave goblin—but, empirically, he's way out of my league."

Finn paused, taking a bite of his toast, clearly weighing what he was going to say next.

"I dunno," he said finally, shrugging. "I spent my fall semester pining after my apparently 'straight' best friend who I thought would never love me back, and now we're living together. Stranger things have happened."