Y'all see the sketch of Peter, Colin and Dakota at the top of this chapter? :,) my babies

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For three days after the fallout with Colin, Peter kept his distance. It wasn't his intention to do so, no. But he couldn't see any way he could attempt to fix the rift between them without making things worse.

The first time he had tried, Colin had walked out on him. What assurance did he have that it wouldn't happen again?

It wasn't like Peter particularly enjoyed staying at his sister's home as much as he used to. Still, he'd rather be here than in his lonely dorm room. But most, he'd rather be back at Regal Heights, which contributed to why all his belongings were now stacked in a corner.

"Make sure all your dirty clothes are in the laundry basket, Peter. You too, Lily. Else you'll be washing them yourselves. By hand." The stress on the last two words meant Ivy wasn't joking, and even Lily knew that enough to get up from where she sat on the floor.

Peter blocked with his knees. "Cry and she'll do it herself. You're too cute for her to say no," he told his niece as he brushed along the longs strands of her hair, smoothing it with his hands as he went.

Ivy walked into the room a while later, hands on her hips with a frown on her face. "Did you two not hear me?" Her first question was left unanswered when her eyes fell on the large suitcase and bags settled in front of the closet. "You packed?" She asked, receiving a nod in answer. Her lips uncurled from the frown and formed an 'o.' "I thought you had moved back in?"

"Peter's going?" Lily interrupted with a gasp, grabbing onto Peter's leg. He couldn't tell if it was in good or in bad faith, even though the possibility of Lily being happy that he was leaving hurt him.

"No, Poison Ivy. Yes, flower. I came to get the rest of my stuff, but I've been unsure of going back, because Colin and I got into this stupid fight." Peter rolled his eyes. The next stroke was harder, making Lily yelp.

"Over the apartment?" Ivy asked, bending over Lily and tucking the little girl's hair behind her ears.

"Over our relationship."

"Relationship? Like relationship relationship? A romantic relationship? With your roommate? Who's a guy?" Ivy stared with a perplexed face.

"Colin's your boyfriend?" Lily's gasp was higher than the previous one. Again, Peter had no way to tell if it was well-meant or not.

"Yes, to both." With caution, he enquired, "Is that bad, flower?"

She shook her head. "I like Colin."

"So you're..." Ivy paused, giving her brother time to fill in the gap.

"Bisexual. If liking one guy counts as that, then that's who I am, Ivy." He sighed, brushing another stroke in Lily's hair. "You probably didn't expect it, maybe you're not even ready to accept the whole concept since---"

A smile stretched on Ivy's lips as she watched her brother with curiosity. "Since what?"

"I dunno. But I feel you won't approve of it or me. At least you don't have to worry about it, since I plan on leaving."

"Peter. Oh my God, this is funny." Laughter burst through her lips as her hand went up to cover her mouth.

"Hey, I'm being serious. Yeah, it's a kind of surprising, but--- "

Ivy interrupted him, holding onto her stomach as waves of more laughter bubbled out of her. "No, no, it's not that. I'm laughing because of how much you think I'd suddenly stop liking you because you're bisexual. I mean, Lei's bi and I still love him."

"He's---Dad knows that?"

"No. And he doesn't have to know about you, if you don't want him to."

"I don't really care what he'll say." He shrugged. "I'm already battling enough at the moment." With a sigh, he set down the brush and made way so Lily could get on her feet.

Ivy ushered her out, saying, "Let's go eat, alright?" Before she walked out however, she turned to her sulking brother. "If you're serious about your relationship, go for it. Just... don't cheat on him like you did to Kayla."

"It wasn't cheating."

°

"Hello," came a slightly nasal voice on the other end of the call.

"M-Marcus? Are you still in California?" Peter asked, chewing on his bottom lip as he waited for a response. It had taken him a long time to decide to contact Colin's ex. But Marcus was the only one he knew had a long history with Colin, and possibly, he was the one who knew him most.

After a heavy breath, Marcus replied. "Since your boyfriend busted my nose, I've had to stay longer than I planned. I'm still here."

"I'm sorry about that," Peter said, swallowing, "But I need your help."

"With?"

"Colin's mad at me," he started, "We had a misunderstanding because he thinks I don't care about him or his feelings, and that I take advantage of him knowing he'll do whatever he can for me. You've known him the longest, so I called you for help because I feel like anything else I'd do would be manipulative and insincere." He held his breath after that, waiting for a sound from Marcus' end which went dead silent.

Laughter erupted; hearty, full-bodied laughter. "Woah, I thought you weren't my type, and I was right. Peter, you are me!"

"Well, he told me we're no different," Peter replied in a small voice. He rolled his eyes, sticking the nail od his thumb into his mouth and biting on it.

"Take it as a compliment--- " Marcus said, the hint of a smile in his voice. "---it lessens the pain."

"It hurt you?"

"Not just physically, yeah." His voice was sterner as he added, "I feel emotions too, Peter."

"But you seemed so---"

"Nonchalant, uncaring, I know. But the thing is, I didn't expect him to take things to heart that badly." A pause. "And hearing how he thought I hid our relationship because I was ashamed of him pained me. I wasn't. I was just scared of who I was, afraid of what people would say once they knew. Colin wasn't, and he had been open about it since forever. I feared being seen with him, because then everyone would know."

A longer pause. "It's funny, you know? That after all these years, I still can't face that fact. But the industry is cruel and not accepting to anything---anyone---that's different."

"Oh, that's the reason you never talk about your sexuality?"

Marcus let out another laugh. Static crackled. "Yes. And since the default is straight, everyone assumes I am, and I don't feel the need to correct them. I might start doing that though."

"Mmm," Peter hummed.

"And about Colin." He cleared his throat, following with a laugh. "Word of advice is don't wait for six years to try and get him back. It all goes to shit after."

"Thanks but what do I do? Call him? He said he'll always be there when I do, and it just feels like I'm truly taking advantage of him."

"It would be better if you talk in person. Do some cheesy romantic stuff if you want, he likes those," he suggested.

"Like flowers and---"

"No, not that. Colin doesn't really fancy physical gifts, more like gestures and what not. Sing him a song, cook him something... things like that."

"Thank you so much," Peter sighed, tone and voice lighter.

"If you need a ride, I can come pick you up. I've realized there are some things I have to clear up with Colin too... after you're done with whatever you'll do, that is."

That didn't sound like a problem.

"Alright, I'll text you the address. Is 5:30 okay?"

"It's fine. I'll see you."

"Thanks. Bye."

Once the line went dead, Peter dropped his phone next to him, running his fingers through his hair with a sigh of relief. The first roadblock had been cleared; he only had to figure out what to do.

Unless he wanted to burn their apartment down, cooking was out of the option. And he wasn't sure he could sing without his voice cracking. He had to consider other options.

"What does he like?" He whispered to himself. "What's a part of him he'd--- " Peter trailed off when it clicked in his mind. He only hoped it would work and not blow up in his face.

Marcus arrived shy of the designated time. He constantly pulled down the bill of his baseball cap to shade the tape around his nose. The bandages weren't overly done, and Peter didn't think it looked too bad.

After helping Peter secure his baggage, Marcus assured him it would---given the circumstances---when the dark-haired boy brought up his decision.

The ride was quiet and somewhat peaceful, but tension rose once Marcus pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex.

Peter stood at the door for a while, hand dropping anytime he attempted to ring the doorbell. He paced, heart beating in staccato rhythms whenever he thought he heard a noise come from inside.

It was by divine guidance that he remembered he had a spare key lodged somewhere in his backpack, and he chose to use that instead. He'd rather barge in than be overwhelmed with the anxiety of not knowing what to expect when Colin came to open the door.

Luckily, a key wasn't inserted at the other side of the door, and after two turns, the wood gave way for him to enter. His head popped through first, and he searched for any sigh of Colin in the living room. There wasn't.

He pulled his stuff inside, unintentionally banging the door behind him. He heard footsteps. Then Colin's voice asked who was there. Shit.

He could have said something, but he was too disoriented to. And Colin walked in on him like that, frozen in the middle of the room, surrounded by full bags, and looking like a deer caught in headlights.

Colin dropped the large frying pan he held---supposedly his weapon of choice for a break-in---and crossed his arms. "Come to get the rest of your stuff?"

Peter winced. It did look like that, didn't it? Taking a shaky breath and tugging on his fingers, he gathered enough courage to say what he had to. "I'm here to apologise, Colin. For hurting you, and myself, in the process. And I also want you to know I'm moving in permanently. I'm bringing these here, not taking them out."

"Oh..." With no telling expression on Colin's face, Peter had no way of knowing if he was delighted at his words or not.

He had to go for it. "Yeah. And I want us to go out this evening." Peter scratched at the back of his head. "Right now, if you're not doing anything."

The brunet uncrossed his arms, narrowing his eyes in thought of where this was leading to. "I'm not doing anything."

"That's---that's awesome. I just need to get something first, wait here."

With that, Peter crossed the room, flushed face redder as he felt Colin's eyes follow his movements. He returned with Colin's skateboard, pushing it with his feet. Here goes nothing.

"What are you doing with that?"

"We'll need it where we're going." Peter picked up the board, tucking it under his armpit and planting his gaze on Colin's. "I want us to start over. You know, pick up all the pieces from the beginning."

"You're not gonna unpack your stuff first?" Colin pointed at the scattered semi-pile in the middle of the room.

"It can wait."

Colin nodded with a small shrug. "Let's go then." He stepped out before Peter did, stopping in front of the elevator for the dark-haired boy to catch up to him. "Locked the door and pulled out the keys?"

"Uh huh." Peter reached into the pocket of the blue hoodie he had slipped on, making the keys jangle inside. Colin's eyes lingered on the clothing, but he said nothing, only moving aside so Peter could enter next to him.

Reaching the ground, they stepped out into the fading gold rays as the sun sunk in the sky. Peter scanned the premises, eyes locking on Marcus who waited on the hood of his car. The blond hoped off as soon as he noticed, and he approached the pair, acknowledging Peter with a grateful nod, before focusing his attention on Colin, whose face displayed a frown.

There was a tense moment of silence, broken by the huff of breath Marcus let out.

"I could sue you for the damages you did to my face, Mitchell. It's an asset, you know?" Marcus smiled, lifting an eyebrow. "But I won't. Because I kind of deserved this." He gestured at the bandages around his nose. "I'm sorry for everything I did, and everything I didn't do. You deserved better. You still do. I've gotten rid of the pictures, because I should have never interrupted with your life. I've seen the errors of my ways, and wish all the very best for you, Colin Mitchell. Even if that best comes in the form of a cute Chinese guy who might have drinking problems."

Even though Colin's face had been relatively expressionless through the entire speech, the last sentence had him cracking a smile as big as Peter's eyes had gotten. "Your apologies still suck. But I appreciate it. Thanks, man."

And that was the end of that. Marcus made a small wave and went on his way, leaving both of them to head for their destination.

The skateboard was balanced on Peter's shoulders, both his arms hanging off the ends as they trudged on. Peter led, walking a couple of feet ahead of Colin.

With the setting sun spilling out yellowed highlights on heavy clouds in an ethereal display, Peter turned in an attempt to ask if Colin liked how the sky looked. Words blanked in his mind when he turned to see that Colin was staring at him instead, not even bothering to look beyond his form. Shrinking under the attention, Peter focused his gaze ahead of him and didn't turn until they were at the skate park.

He found the bench they had sat on when Colin had come to get his board from his friends, and he plopped down on it, dropping the skateboard and placing his shoes on it. As he rocked it, the board imitated the sound other skaters made with their and boards when they flew off the ramps.

Colin sat next too to him, leaning forward with his elbows resting on top of his knees. "This is where it started for you?"

"Yes," Peter admitted.

"Me too."

Me too. Did he mean whatever it was between them like Peter did? Had he also felt that spark when they had touched?

Slowly, he reached for Colin's hand, laying his palm in the brunet's and tentatively pulling it towards him. Peter's fingers interlaced with Colin's, drawing warmth and jogging a memory of a similar situation that had happened many moons ago.

With his free hand, Peter lifted the fabric and slid the sleeve over their clasped hands, encasing it in the same cocoon of warmth Colin had done before. Their eyes stayed on the bond, long before Peter finally lifted his gaze to the brunet, taking in the peace that seemed to have settled in him; in both of them.

Leaning forward, Peter spoke in a voice as soft as the kiss he pressed against Colin's lips. "I love you." The words slipped off his tongue easier than he thought it would, but the kiss unfortunately went in that same direction. It slipped off too easily.

Colin didn't kiss him back. He only stared at Peter with big brown eyes, lips in a tight line.

Maybe Peter had misinterpreted it. Maybe they each meant different things. He pulled back, searching Colin's face to know the exact moment he had gone wrong.

However, he didn't have the chance to overthink it, because Colin suddenly closed the distance between them. Just like the first time they had kissed, Peter hadn't seen it coming even though he wished it would happen. And now it was...

Colin kissed Peter deeply, like he was tasting him. One slow, long sip at a time. His free hand moved to the back of Peter's head and pulled him closer. It wasn't too relaxed; it wasn't too fervent. It was perfect enough to have Peter let out a heady sigh when Colin's lips moved to his cheek, his neck.

Their lips were connected again, and in the middle of their tongues meeting, teeth nipping on lips, Peter repeated his plea. "I love you I love you I love you."

He held Colin's face with his hand, pressing their foreheads together. "You can call me whatever you want. Even Pikachu, I don't mind it anymore. I choose you, Colin."

Colin kissed him, smiling wide enough to reveal his chipped tooth. "Not to ruin the moment, but when did you get this sappy?"

"When I realised I don't wanna make the same mistakes Marcus did."

"You two spoke a lot, huh?"

Peter shook his head. "Only before I came. He gave me some advice."

"Did it work?"

"Are you still mad at me?"

"No."

"Then it did." He kissed Colin briefly.

"I was impulsive and overreacted. Sorry about that."

"It's fine." Peter looked down at his shoes, rolling the skateboard from side to side. "I brought this so we could skateboard because I know it's something you love, but I'd much rather lay in bed and fall asleep with next to you."

"That can be arranged. I have to wake up early for Amy's wedding tomorrow even," Colin said, standing. "Come on, let's go home."

Their hands were still held in an embrace, so Colin picked up his board with his free hand. The walk back to the apartment was nothing short of nostalgic, and they even stopped in front of the Pizzarea, under the gigantic neon sign that said: Keep calm and eat at Marcy's. They shared a kiss, ate at Marcy's, shared a bottle of Coke and unhidden looks of contentment and pure joy.

They no longer held onto each other, but they had never felt as close as they did under the warm, yellow glow of the lights in the diner.

"I like this," Peter said with a small smile, picking up a pepperoni from the slice in front of him. "So much that I don't want it to stop."

"Then we won't let it. If you want a honeymoon phase, we can have that," Colin assured. "We'll go on dates twice a week the first year we're together. Then once a week, the second. Then once every two weeks. Then once every month. And then we'll recycle the whole thing."

That idea sat well with Peter.

Even though they had intended to carry out Peter's request of sharing a bed too, they were too high on love and too full on life to make it past the living room.

Peter stumbled to one couches and fell face first, the lopsided smile that lit up his face hidden between his arm and the leather.

Colin lay on the other couch, watching him with the largest grin.

"You look stupid," Peter said with a tired laugh.

"You can't even see how I look."

"I know," Peter replied.

Colin also turned, laying in the same position Peter did. Even though his speech was muffled, he told Peter, "I love you," not sure if he'd even be heard.

The dark-haired boy sighed. "I know."