Disclaimer: I own nothing...unfortunately

Goodbye Until Tomorrow

"All I could do was love you hard and let you go"

It was 3:31 in the morning and Peter was still sitting cross legged on the couch studying for his Performance and Literature final with Wendy. He knew it was their fault. They had no one to blame but themselves. Well...they could blame their past selves like they always did.

"Fuck past us." He said turning to his partner in crime "those guys are so fucking stupid, why didn't they just study when they had the time instead of rewatching episodes of Game of Thrones and going on tumblr?"

"I know. I'm glad present Peter and Wendy are responsible and have learned from past Peter and Wendy's mistakes." She said as she pushed her bangs out of her face and adjusted the textbook she was currently balancing on her knee. "I'm sure this won't happen again now that we have become responsible adults." she smiled her voice laced with several layers of sarcasm.

"That's true. It's not like this happens every semester and we always say the same thing." He said with mock seriousness, the smirk evident in his voice. "I can't believe your stupid boyfriend went to bed. It's not like he's any more prepared than we are." Peter said after a minute or two.

"Well he clearly hasn't learned from past Jason's mistakes."

"Poor thing. It's a shame he hasn't reached our level of maturity." Peter mumbled, not able to suppress the oncoming yawn.

It was strange, he thought as he always did, that his college roommate's name was Jason. Jason Snow, loud and effeminate and silly and surprisingly straight. All the things Jason was not. The more he thought about it though the more he realized that everyone in his life was sort of an antithesis to his Jason. Well, not his Jason. Not anymore. Not for years.

His first year at Berkeley he refused to have a roommate. Too many bad memories, too much baggage. Instead he stayed in a single with just his memories and his baggage to keep him company. He went to his classes, he went back to his room; that was it. That was his life.

His mom would call every monday at 8, his father called, never. She asked him how he was, he said he was "fine", he asked her the same, she said she was "good." She would do most of the talking since talking about his life had become a minefield. She would ask vague questions about his life and he would give her vague answers and then they said goodnight. These phone calls never lasted more than 10 minutes. Neither had much to say. She didn't ask him to come home for the holidays, he didn't ask her if he could. Instead he stayed where he was. Alone and barely living.

That was it for almost a year. His voluntary solitary confinement. Then one incredibly warm day in April, right as his crippling, numbing depression was hitting an all time low he woke up.

He had been preparing for an Intro to Theater exam when he felt compelled to look out his window and what he saw surprised him. It was April. Students were scattered across the grass studying or just talking. Some were playing games. Some were just jogging or cycling through. They all looked so happy, so at ease. They were a part of something. They were warm.

It was April.

Obviously he knew it was April but it hadn't quite registered in his angst-ridden brain. It was April and he hadn't even noticed. He was a freshman in college, he was at UC Berkeley,he was in California, he was studying what he wanted, he could be who he wanted to be and make friends who accepted him for who he was and be with someone who wasn't afraid to hold his hand in public and instead he had squandered his year waiting for his old friends to call and say they were okay with who he was, waiting for his mom to ask him about his life and really want to know, waiting for his dad to pick up the phone just to say hello...waiting for Jason. Stupid fucking Jason.

This beautiful spring day hit him like that time Lucas had accidentally thrown a basketball at his face Junior year. Hard, and fast and so unexpected.

He grabbed his books, stuffed them into his bag and all but sprinted out of his dorm. He smiled for what was probably the first time in that entire year as the sun hit his face and warmed him from the inside out. Peter made his way through the hot grass dodging frisbees and students until he found the perfect spot. It was a large, old tree, right in the center of the park. It had more leaves than any tree he had ever seen and the trunk was molded so perfectly that his back fit comfortably into it. He opened his books and continued his studying but this time it was different; it was harder to concentrate but once he did it easier to learn. He felt light and warm and happy.

No one talked to Peter that day as he sat by that tree but still he felt less alone than he had his entire life. He felt free.

He took his exam the next day and didn't go back to his room like he always did instead he found the tree again and opened one of his favorite books.

He met his best friends that day. A curious, imaginative, adventurous, pedantic and stubborn girl appropriately, yet coincidentally named Wendy and her boyfriend Jason. They were both Theatre majors like Peter and he vaguely remembered them from some of his classes.

The two of them had brought Peter back to life again. No. They'd done more than that. They helped create Peter 2.0, a new and improved Peter. Confident, loud, carefree and unapologetically happy.

They spent that last part of their freshman year bringing Peter out of his shell. They listened to him and they didn't judge. They made him laugh and cry and storm off in fits of anger. They became his friends and his confidants. They became his family.

As time went on he learned everything about them. They both grew up in Connecticut(though Jason was born in Chicago) just an hour away from Peter, who was in Rhode Island.

Wendy and her sister Harper, who was also at Berkeley, were the products of Chris and Jack's relationship. Jack and Chris had wanted children and had implanted two eggs with each of their sperm into a donor. Both eggs had taken and nine months later Wendy and Harper were born. Wendy once confided in Peter and told him she knew she was Jack's kid and Harper was Chris's but they both pretended they didn't know who their biological father was.

Jason was the middle and favorite child of an airhead heiress and her stockbroker husband. Neither was very well equipped to have kids but they tried and despite being a little neglectful they weren't bad parents.

The two met when they were 15 in ballet class. Jason was new to the class and had tripped over her pointe shoe. "It was love at first sight!" he always says. "He was a fucking idiot." she insists. Still, they grew inseparable. She would wait for him by the door. They would stretch together. He would walk her, and then later on drive her home. They met each others families. He transferred schools for her and then finally when she couldn't ignore it any longer, she asked him on a date.

"It was the dumbest thing I ever did" she joked when they first told Peter their story.

He thought they were beautiful. They were everything he and Jason could have been if Jason had just let them.

The day he heard his friends love story was the last time he cried for Jason. That was when he said his goodbyes. What it all boils down to is he grew up and Jason didn't and he couldn't waste away, waiting for him to do so.

Those last few weeks of freshman year were transformative. He felt like he had changed more in eight weeks than he had in his entire time at 's. By the end of the year Jason informed him that he and Wendy were thinking of living in one of the Co-ops next year and suggested he join them and that's how he ended up here. In Wilde house, the lgbt themed Co-op at UC Berkeley, sitting on a glitter covered couch at 3 in the morning trying to remember random facts about the Tempest. He couldn't ask for a better life.

"Yo earth to Simmonds! You're zoning out dude." Wendy admonished

"Do you remember when we met?" Peter asked ignoring her previous comment.

"Duh. You were sitting by that tree you're like obsessed with, reading Wicked. I fell in love. I had to talk to you." she sighed melodramatically

"Why? Cause I was reading Wicked?" he laughed

"Uh I repeat, duh!"

"Do you talk to every stranger you come across who is reading Wicked?"

"More or less yeah." She said her face completely void of emotion. Suddenly she smiled her cheshire cat smile(the smile that let Peter know she was either onto something or about to mock him) and closed her book. "So…" she said scooting closer to Peter and sitting on his notes "feeling nostalgic are we?" she placed her head on his shoulder and immediately picked it back up "reminiscing about the good old days huh?" she poked his side. It was a carefully choreographed danced. Like most things with Wendy were. Just another one of her quirks. "You're about to cry aren't you, you big baby? she mocked placing her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands as she continued to smile, wide and bright "you do know what that means don't you?" then her smile drops, she sits up straight and looks him in the eye "We clearly have to go to bed because you're obviously exhausted and I can't handle your hazy sentimentality. You might as well be drunk." she said patting him on the shoulder faux sympathetically.

"You're a dick." he pouted knowing she was right, he always got nostalgic when he was worn-out.

Once again she laughed and rose from the couch. "Come on" she ordered as she started putting their stuff away. "I think we've done enough studying for one night. Don't you? Besides if we fail we're still hot enough to become porn stars."

"Touche" he answered getting up to help her pick up "at least we have a backup plan."

They made their way up the stairs both almost tripping over one of Tyler's paintings.

"Goodnight my love I shall dream of the moment we shall reunite" Wendy said with her usual hyperbolic flair when they reached their respective rooms.

"Adieu my sweetest love, rest knowing I am just across the way from you" he couldn't help but occasionally join in on her theatrics it was way too much fun.

"Oh thanks heavens." she exclaimed opening her door and walking half way in "my door shall be but an extension of yours, my dreams shall swim across to join you in yours, my longing shall be placated by the coming morrow."

"Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say goodnight till it be morrow." Peter quoted blowing her a kiss before closing his bedroom door.

He stretched his back before climbing into bed, his fingers instantly seeking out the warmth they were sure to find. "Hey there" he breathed out, a smile on his face, when he felt Lip's arms around his waist. Technically Peter and Jason were roommates and Wendy had a single, however most nights Jason would sleep in his girlfriend's room and Peter would invite Lip over. He had been dating Phillip Levinstein for 10 and a half months now and he couldn't be happier. He was living the life he dreamed of in high school, except Jason had been replaced with Lip. Dreams of going to Jason's games and walking out holding his hand were replaced with the reality of going to Lip's photography exhibits and walking out holding each other up, drunk from all the champagne. Going on a date to a movie theatre or a restaurant was replaced with making up stories and adventures through photographs and emailing them to their friends or making origami cranes in the park and then hiding them all over campus. Spending lazy days in eachothers arms was now marathoning something new on Netflix with Wendy and Jason, and a picnic in the park was now Krav Maga in the park. Jason's golden hair and big blue eyes had become Lip's curly brown mess and caramel gaze. Despite all this his new life felt just like Peter thought it would. He was young, and alive and in love. His parents would disapprove as would his old friends and even Jason himself but he could care less. Right now, in this moment, Lip's arms around his waist and his lips on his neck, he felt peace and that's all that mattered.

"Lip?" he asked nudging his barely awake boyfriend.

"Hmm?" was all he got back from the limp body pressed against his.

Peter sighed and closed his eyes, collecting himself before speaking.

"Thank you. For everything. I...you...you make me very happy so thank you. Now please go back to sleep and ignore my raging sentimentality. It's just cause I'm tired and thinking about my past. I'll go to sleep now, I promise."

The room was dead silent for several minutes and Peter started to think maybe Lip hadn't heard him but right as he was dozing off, he felt Lip move and his grip on Peter's waist get tighter. Then again all was still. One minute passed. Then two. Then three until he felt a hand on his face and a pair of lips on his own, fast and insisting until just as quickly as it happened they pulled away. Then once again, silence. Peter waited for him to say something or at least kiss him again but the silence stretched on even longer than before. It wasn't until he heard Lip's soft snores that he understood. Lip didn't talk about serious things. He just didn't. He made jokes and told stories but when it came to moments like these where he was required to be serious he preferred to stay silent. Not that he was emotionless or distant, he was just different. Peter declared; Lip expressed. He would kiss, and touch and nuzzle and hug. His love was shown in small touches and soft caresses. His anger in punched walls and pulled hair. His pain in stretched fabric and bone-crushing hugs. He was as stoic as a cowboy but as needy as a kitty cat.

That kiss was his way of showing Peter he had been heard and he was appreciated. He laughed softly and buried himself in Lip's embrace, letting the warmth lull him to sleep.