"Why didn't you talk to me for three weeks?" Cory asks.

He watches Topanga across the table. The way the corners of her mouth pinch and the way her beautiful blue eyes seem to dim as they stare down at the space between the two of them.

A few tight, spiky moments pass before Topanga finally looks up at him with a sigh. "A lot of reasons, Cory."

"What reasons, Topanga? What was your reason for just… muting me in your life for that long?"

For a moment, she doesn't answer. She taps her fingers on her wine glass, takes a sip and sets then glass down. Then she folds her hands in her lap and looks up at Cory. "Cory… we've been having the same conversation over and over again on a loop since school started. We talk about school and we don't connect, so we talk about Shawn and Feeny. I talk about my friends and you get their names confused, except for Terry and Sanjay, who you get a little jealous of for no reason other than that they're men. and then we talk about the next time we're going to see each other."

"Okay. So... I'm boring you?"

"No, Cory, it's not that. I wasn't getting bored, I was getting depressed. After every call I would just be… sad. Either you would make me feel bad because… I wasn't there to help you study, or I would feel guilty that you and Shawn were fighting and you were lonely while I was out meeting new people and having fun. I didn't want to tell you about the good things happening to me when you were struggling, and I could tell you didn't always want to tell me how bad things were, and every time we started making plans to see each other that didn't quite pan out I felt like you just… doubled down. You called more, you gripped tighter and… calling you, and then feeling bad about the conversation, and then trying to find the time to come see you, and then calling you and feeling bad that it wasn't going to work out and then worrying about how you were taking the conversation just… started to feel like it was taking over my life."

Cory can tell that she's been rehearsing this speech. It's clean and paced well and her voice wobbles a little as she speaks but her hands don't. His hands are starting to though. He moves them from the table top into his lap.

"Cory… You know we have a history of getting into ruts. I hated that rut. I wanted to break the cycle, and… to be totally honest with you… I just didn't have the mental or emotional battery to get through that rut and finals at the same time. And I didn't think you did either, so I just made the call. It wasn't about getting away so much as just breaking a bad habit. And look at the last three weeks and tell me that wasn't the right move? You seem more relaxed, you went out you had fun. Right?"

"Yeah. Topanga. Yeah. I went out. I started doing yoga with Feeny and getting coffee with Shawn and Peter and I studied my butt off but… I didn't do all those things because you weren't… distracting me anymore. I did all those things because I missed you so much. I was doing whatever it took to make those three weeks without you go by faster."

"And I missed you too, Cory."

"Just not enough to pick up a phone and tell me all this a month ago and have a real conversation about it?"

Across the table, Topanga pulls her bottom lip into her mouth. She's biting down on it hard enough that Cory can see the little white line that forms under her teeth. "Cory… what do you think we're doing now?"

Shawn spends his five minute reset in the bathroom, on his phone, looking at rope bondage porn, but thinking about sharing an apartment They're both pretty intense trust exercises, when you think about it. He's shocked at how all it took for him to not be thinking about it at all, to him wanting it desperately, was for Peter to offer it. Shawn knows that if he went back into Peter's room and just said yes, they could start picking out curtains right now and it would all be okay.

But, like Peter said, there are logistics. Meal plans, financial aid, figuring out Pennbrooke's requirements for freshman living. Even if he does go tell Peter 'yes', he has to talk to at least three members of the administration before that yes becomes official.

And Cory.

He's not ready to think about that piece yet, and he he has more practice pushing away thoughts about Cory than anything else. So he does. With a deep sigh, he just stops worrying about the future. He turns it off as easy as flipping a switch and he goes back to Peter's room, laughing when he opens the door.

Peter has turned off the light and lit three that smells a little like a window cleaner boasting some sort of all natural scent is light on the air.

"Candles, huh?" Shawn asks.

"I was hoping they would help you get back into a sexy mood."

Shawn takes his shirt off and drops it behind him as he crosses the room. "It's working."

"Just not enough to pick up a phone and tell me all this a month ago and have a real conversation about it?"

Across the bar, Topanga pulls her bottom lip into her mouth. She's biting down on it hard enough that Cory can see the little white line that forms under her teeth. "Cory… what do you think we're doing now?"

Cory opens his mouth to reply. To spit back some accusation, or recrimination or something that won't make it clear to Topanga how hurt he is, and, just like with Shawn, will only make things worse. He shuts his mouth, takes a deep breath and, like he's learned to do in the last few weeks, pushes the emotion down. "Okay," Cory says. "Okay. You're right. Let's… have a real adult conversation."

Topanga's reaction is a mix of relief and surprise, but she covers it quickly.

"Okay. Do you want to start?" Topanga asks.

"Yeah. I do. You didn't tell me that when you asked to take a break. I had no idea why you decided to put a pause on our relationship, and I have been worried you were going to break up with me after finals. And I was worried there was another guy. Or that something terrible had happened. Or that you were… I don't know. Going to study abroad for a year some place with spotty internet service."

"Okay," Topanga replied. "That spiraling thing you just did? That's why I asked to just put things on hold during finals instead of try to have this conversation. I felt like you would challenge me on every point I wanted to make, and every conversation would get harder, and I wouldn't feel listened to."

"Wouldn't feel listened to? Topanga, I always listen to you."

"No, Cory, you don't. You correct me. I say something like 'Maybe Shawn is feeling alienated from you because you guys don't have the time to hang out like you used to' and you tell me that he's trying to recreate that fake college experience from last year, or that he's having trouble with his brother being reintroduced into his life, or whatever."

"To be fair, one of the things I threw out there was that Shawn was having his yearly identity crisis and eventually he would be himself again and everything would be fine."

Topanga sighs and sits back in her chair. "Right, fine, but like… you understand that is condescending and limiting right? That you expect Shawn and other people to always revert to square one?"

"Is Shawn exactly who he was at the beginning of the year Topanga?"

"Yes, he is. He is the same person, who went through a new experience. Being happy and feeling safe and finding someone who can help him deal with a lifetime of abandonment issues didn't make him a different person, he's still Shawn, but he's Shawn who went through something and grew."

"See, that's just semantics, Topanga. You and Shawn both treat me like I can't accept any kind of change, ever. I understand that people grow. I understand that Shawn grew, I understand that you want to grow, I even, despite what everyone seems o think about me, understand that I need to grow too. It's harder for me than for you and Shawn. I'm aware of that. But the real problem," Cory feels his throat start to constrict here. "Is that the two most important people in my life, always seem to step away from me in order to grow. You and Shawn are both always running off ahead, and I… end up chugging along, missing you until you come back to me."

He picks up his own wine glass, trying to gulp down the lump forming in his throat. "And this year, you both… physically left. You went to Yale, and Shawn was off with Peter, andI was physically stuck, in my room, with my books, struggling to keep up."

"Ready?" Peter whispers.

Shawn shivers at the way his boyfriend's lips tickle across his neck. "Yes. Yes. I'm ready."

Peter laughs, kisses his neck, and sits back on his haunches. He grabs the four lengths of rope from the corner of the bed where they'd set them after carefully untying and uncoiling them earlier. He gives Shawn a coy smile and drags the end of a rope across Shawn's bare stomach. Shawn's cock jumps at the tease.

He'd rolled his eyes at Peter more than once during the many talks they'd had about this moment, telling Peter that they didn't need to plan every little detail, while Peter huffed and rebutted that he just wanted to make sure they had boundaries set and that everything was safe and consensual and nothing would go off the rails and ruin the experience, and Shawn had countered that spontaneity was exciting.

He'd lost that debate, and he's starting to be glad he did. Being able to fantasize about exactly what was going to happen in the lead up tonight had been fun, and now, underneathPeter, knowing that the loops Peter is wrapping around his wrists are going to be loose enough to shake off at first, and the loops around his feet aren't going to be tied to anything is letting the desire rip through his body, utterly unimpeded by nerves.

Peter finishes the lose ties around Shawn's wrists, then leans down to kiss him deeply. "You remember the safe word?"

Shawn rolls his eyes. "Lay up. You dork."

Peter laughs again, and ties Shawn's wrists to the head of the bed.

He picks up his own wine glass, trying to gulp down the lump forming in his throat. "And this year, you both… physically left. You went to Yale, and Shawn was off with Peter, andI was physically stuck, in my room, with my books, struggling to keep up."

Topanga sighs and finishes her glass of wine. "You expected both of us to follow you, and that's not fair either."

"Topanga-"

"-No. You did. Remember that big weird fight you and Shawn got into about you interviewing with a college he couldn't get into? You thought he was being ridiculous, and when I finally got the two of you to talk to each other about it and pointed out that we all needed to think about what would happen if we got into different schools and said that I had applied to Miami, and you were shocked. You hadn't listened to me talk about that at all. You didn't freak out until that moment in Feeny's office. And you flipped out when Shawn was thinking about taking a year off, or not even going to school. You thought we were just going to do whatever you did. It didn't even occur to you that we wouldn't."

"We had all talked about Pennbrooke. We were all applying to Pennbrooke."

"Yes, Cory, we talked about it, but that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that you had no right to expect that we would all go to Pennbrooke just because you were going there."

"Another glass, miss?" The bartender asks, pointing to the empty one at Topanga's elbow.

"Yes, thank you."

Cory doesn't want to fight. He wants to have a discussion. Topanga's right, this is the rational, adult conversation they should have been having all along. And she is clearly working hard to keep her tone modulated and her voice down. In fact, she's so calm that the calm in her voice has made him overlook what she just said.

"Wait— did you even apply to Pennbrooke?" Cory asks.

Topanga goes still for a moment, then purses her lips. "No. I didn't."

"You didn't even apply?"

"No. I didn't. I applied to the University of Pennsylvania. And I did tell you that."

"Right, I remember that. I'm not a complete jerk. Did you get in?"

"Yes," Topanga replies. "I did."

Cory grabs his own elbow and squeezes. "So you got into an Ivy League school— in Philadelphia?"

"Yes, Cory I did."

"And did you ever consider going to a college in the same city I was going to college?"

"Where would you have wanted me to go to school if you had gotten into Stanford? Or NYU?" Topanga shot back, her voice finally starting to rise.

"I figured you could get into Stanford or NYU, and we'd experience moving to a new state together. Maybe get an apartment together eventually."

"And in that scenario what was Shawn doing?"

"They have state schools in California and New York."

"Did you ever think about how hard it would be for him to pay out of state tuition versus in state?"

Cory scoffs. He doubts Topanga thought about either until just now as she started to argue the point. "Don't pull that card on me, Topanga. You're family is paying for you to go to and Ivy League school, don't play Mother Teresa over Shawn's tuition. Answer the question: Did you even think about going to Penn?"

"Cory—"

"Did you ever—"

"No!" She finally shouts. "I didn't. Because I got accepted to Dartmouth first."

They've both already come and are warming up for the second round by the time Shawn's wrist restraints are tight around his wrists and completely immobilizing his arms above his head. "That was awesome," Shawn pants, as Peter grins, straddles his hips and starts to move up Shawn's torso.

"It's gonna get so much better sweetheart. I promise." Peter hovers over Shawn's chest, not quite settling his weight down against Shawn's breastbone as Peter strokes his own cock.

"Tell me," Shawn demands. "Tell me how you're gonna fuck me."

Peter grins, and brings his hips forward, pressing his cock against Shawn's lips. Shawn takes as much of it into his mouth as he can manage at this angle, and closes his eyes as he works his tongue over the head and Peter stutters out a description of how he's going to tie up Shawn's legs and use his fingers until Shawn is begging for more and then fuck him to at least two more orgasms before he he unties Shawn.

It's just a little too much, Shawn cranks his head to the side, spitting Peter's cock out and making sure he still has some control in this position without his hands. Peter pets his hair while he gasps.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Shawn replies before taking Peter's cock back into his mouth. After a few moments and a groan, Peter shifts his hips back, grabs the lube off the nightstand and starts to kiss his way back down Shawn's body.

"Cory—"

"Did you ever—"

"No!" She finally shouts. "I didn't. Because I got accepted to Dartmouth first."

The bartender, unnoticed by them both, coughs. He's holding a fresh glass of wine, in a decidedly apologetic way. Topanga reaches up and takes it from him with an embarrassed word of thanks.

"You didn't tell me that you got into Dartmouth."

"I was trying to figure out how to soften the blow of telling you that I was looking at a college six hours away. And while I was trying to figure out what to say I got into Cornell, which is four hours away. And while I was trying to tell you that, I got into Princeton and I decided I was definitely going there. Ivy League school, fanatic programs, fantastic alumni network and it's only 45 minutes away. I was looking up cute date spots in Burlington. I found us a burger joint and a movie theater, and I was putting down a deposit on a fall foliage tour."

"So you could have gone to Penn State, an Ivy League school 15 minutes away from where we're sitting, but didn't because you got into a school six hours away, you got into progressively closer schools before all but finalizing going to a school we could have driven too in less time than we've been sitting here, but ultimately decided to go to a school three hours away, and not bring your car, so you were a five hour train trip away. Then once you got there, you decided to never come back to Philly, and keep telling that you were too busy for me to drive up?"

"Cory, that school was Yale. I got into Yale! I'm busy because I'm too busy to take weekends off to take the train to Philadelphia because I'm going to Yale. I have clubs and activities and study groups that meet on weekends. At Yale."

Cory clenches and unclench his jaw. "So… what are you saying? You're too good for me now? Because you go to Yale?"

Topanga recoils like he just hit her.

"I'm sorry," he says immediately. "I'm sorry."

"Cory… I didn't say that. And I don't think that, and I've never thought that… but I don't know how you expect this to work… for us to work if you can't respect my ambition and the things I'm working toward. If you expect me to skip out on my classes and my homework to sit at Chubbies… maybe I should just leave now."

Cory's throat goes tight. Tears spring to his eyes. "No. No you're right. I'm sorry. You're right."