“Spectacularly,” he said.
I reached out then, tentative for the first time since we’d met, and brushed my thumb along his wrist. He turned his hand immediately, fingers curling around mine like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The hallway was quiet around us, sunlight warm on the floor, the world still moving whether we were ready for it or not.
The students began to pour out of Professor Colby’s lecture hall, and my heart twisted a little. Even before I knew it, Bennet took my hand and squeezed it. “Wait a second,” he said conspiratorially.
“Wait for what?” I asked.
“Boyfriend privileges,” he said. And even if nothing came from it, just hearing him call us boyfriends felt incredible.
When the classroom emptied, Bennet tugged me to follow him inside, and we found ourselves alone with Professor Colby in his lecture hall. Bennet held my hand and led the way to the desk where he had looked so cute sitting and lecturing me not too long ago.
“Professor,” Bennet said. “I know it’s too soon, but I was wondering if you could share a hint with us.”
“You were wondering that, huh?” Professor Colby echoed, the corners of his lips twitching near a smile. “Yes, I suppose that makes sense.”
“Well, I’ve put in a lot of work,” Bennet said.
“Oi,” I interrupted.
“We did,” Bennet corrected. “We put in a lot ofwork.” There was a smile to the quality of his voice, and I loved hearing it.
Professor Colby sat back, threading his fingers behind his head and observing us both, our hands held and expressions anxious. “I don’t know what the score is yet,” he said, but that small ghost of a smile never went away. “But I did look at the answers.”
I nodded nervously. Bennet lifted his chin proudly.
“I am rather proud of myself,” Professor Colby said.
We both frowned at that. “Proud of yourself?” Bennet asked.
The professor nodded happily. “I never thought I was a great judge of character, but it seems like I make quite a matchmaker. Academically speaking, of course.” He glanced at our hands playfully. “Your results are incredible, Jason. From what I saw, they were above and beyond the passing grade. Well done.”
Professor Colby hopped onto his feet and picked up the stack of test booklets.
“And you may consider your volunteering quota filled, Bennet,” he said.
Bennet and I positively buzzed with excitement as Professor Colby walked out of the lecture hall and into his cluttered office attached to the side. Bennet spun around before I had the chance, yanking my hoodie and rising to the tips of his toes to press a loving kiss against my lips.
Bennet kissed me like he’d been holding it in for weeks, like the relief and the joy and the certainty all needed somewhere to go at once. His handsfisted in my hoodie, grounding and urgent, and I bent down without thinking, meeting him halfway as the kiss deepened, warm and breathless and real. It wasn’t frantic so much as wholehearted, a seal pressed onto everything we’d just said out loud. When we finally pulled apart, foreheads touching, I was smiling so hard my face hurt, and for once, it felt like the best kind of problem to have.
epilogue
BENNET
The thingabout living with someone is you stop noticing the sounds they make until they’re absent: Jason’s keys hitting the bowl by the door, the particular thud of his gym bag on the kitchen floor, always in the wrong spot, the shower running at six thirty in the morning while I was still trying to convince myself that coffee was worth getting out of bed for.
I noticed the silence first on the mornings he traveled for work. The apartment felt wrong without the noise, like a song I liked but played just slightly off-key.
We’d found the place three months after graduation. Second floor, bay windows, enough room for my books and his trophies and Peanut’s increasing collection of destroyed toys after Beta Epsilon Lambda decided that Peanut was too attached to Jason to let them separate. The lease was signed on a Thursday. Jason had carried most of the boxes himself, showingoff in that way he never quite grew out of. I’d organized the kitchen while he assembled furniture incorrectly, then correctly after I’d pointed out the upside-down shelf.
“You’re enjoying this,” he’d said, wiping sweat from his forehead with the hem of his shirt.
“Immensely,” I’d agreed, and meant it.
The apartment became ours in small increments. His protein powder next to my tea collection. His cleats by the door next to my loafers. Our books mixed together on the shelf until I couldn’t remember which science fiction paperbacks had been his and which had been mine. We’d argued about the thermostat exactly once before establishing that Jason ran hot and I ran cold, and the compromise was him sleeping shirtless while I burrowed under the blankets.
I didn’t mind.