"That was an awesome class, Feeny!" Shawn declares, trotting down the few steps and crossing the expanse of cheap linoleum that divide his text and the Professor's podium.

"Glad to hear it Mr. Hunter," Feeny replied. "Because to be frank with you I was terrified to see that you and Mr. Matthews would be joining this class."

Shawn grins. He can tell by Feeny's face that the man is only about 30% serious.

"Terrified?" Shawn scoffed. "Of little old us jumping into your Gender and Sexuality Class? Why?"

"Because I remember teaching you what passes for Sex Ed in the public school system. It was… a horror."

Shawn laughs as the classroom clears out and heads back to his desk for his back and books. "Well, put it to you this way Feeny, I've done a lot of independent study on this subject. Couple of, you know. Practicums. I'm very interested to learn more on the theory side." Shawn grins at Feeny, who rolls his eyes and looks disapproving, but Shawn can see that the corner of his mouth is trying not to turn up.

"And you, Mr. Matthews? There are only two days available to drop and add classes in J-term. Do you have any questions on the syllabus? Anything you think might be a challenge?"

"Uh, no, nope. Professor Feeny. I just… I'll just have to keep up on the reading," Cory answered, before clearing his throat.

Cory's tone dampens Shawn's jubilation just a little bit. He talked Cory into taking this class instead of the pottery class that Topanga had pushed for, which would have fulfilled a requirement, and probably helped Cory bring his grades back up, and Cory sounds less than confident.

"I don't think you've ever called me Professor Feeny," Mr. Feeny said, with a suspicious chuckle under his words.

"I just think it's important to maintain… decorum in a classroom," Cory said. "A classroom where the word 'genitals' was used no less than 12 times."

"Ah," Feeny said, nodding in understanding. "I see. Well. You'll get used to it. This is college. We're all adults here."

Shawn kicked the leg of Cory's desk as Feeny collected his papers and the old fashioned valise that he still kept them all in. "Come on. Peter says the cafeteria line is crazy during J term. Most classes let out at the same time. Let's hurry before we have to eat tofu steaks and mushy peas."

Cory cleared his throat again and started gathering up his books.

"Mr. Hunter, remind your Mr. McDonald that his extension deadline is today. I know how they run the basketball players at this institution, but I will only give one extension. His paper needs to be in my office by five on the dot in order to receive credit."

"Not to worry, Mr. Feeny," Shawn replied. "It's practically done, I just promised I'd proof it for him after lunch."

"Good. And Cory?"

"Yes, Professor Feeny?"

"You only have until Wednesday to move into another class. If you thing the subject matter in this room is going to make it difficult for you to maintain attention, I will not be offended if you need to exchange it for something else. Take care of yourself first for these next couple of semesters."

"I'll be fine Mr. Feeny," Cory says, actually sounding convincing as he and Shawn head for the classroom door. "Thanks for looking out for me though."

"Always," Mr. Feeny told them as they left the room.

Shawn has never been this happy to get back to school after a break. Intro to Gender and Sexuality was going to be fascinating, even with Cory flinching next to him every time Feeny used a word like "vagina". It's such a college class. Open discussion on topics they weren't even allowed to talk about in high school. Real academic thought on things he'd only recently started to feel like he could ask about. He'd bought his book as soon as he'd signed up for the class in order to get the cheapest used one, and he'd already read a few chapters.

He and Cory leave the humanities building in silence, pulling their scarves tighter and turning their collars up against the cold as they step out into the brutal January wind.

"Cor?"

"Shawnie?

"It's cool if this class isn't your thing. You know that right? I mean, I know I pushed you into it, but Feeny's right. You're on academic probation."

"That's why I wanted to take this class with you. So you can help me study."

Shawn laughs. "Fine. Fair enough."

"So… Feeny knows about Peter?" Cory asks.

A few months ago that question would have been hesitant. Querulous. Now it's a clear push to change the subject.

"Well. Feeny is Peter's advisor. So, I sure hope he knows about him," Shawn says as seriously as he can.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. You know what I mean," Cory shoots back.

"Yeah. I ran into Feeny in the Union. We had a cup of coffee. The man teaches intro to Gender and Sexuality. I once showed up to school in a velvet dress, a wig, heavy makeup, tights, and heels and all he said was 'My office is always open, if you need to talk, I'm not here to judge'," Shawn says. "He does not care that I have a boyfriend."

Cory shrugs. "Alright."

"You sure you're okay?" Shawn asks. "You don't have to be super into the class. It's fine."

Silence falls between them as they cross the snowy campus.

"You ever sit somewhere for an hour and think 'oh my god, I am the only virgin in this room?'," Cory finally asks

With great effort, Shawn does not laugh. He manages a nearly thoughtful sounding, "Umm… no."

Cory groans.

"I mean, that's not really what "Gender and Sexuality" means. We're going to be reading texts and watching movies and talking about how they reinforce or attempt to subvert normative sexuality or the patriarchy."

Cory repeats Shawn's inflection, but switches all the words out for an obnoxious honking noise.

"Feeny's right." Shawn shakes his head. "If you don't want to be in this class, you need to make that call in, like, the next three hours."

"No. I'm staying in the class," Cory says, with exasperation.

"Okay. That's it. Why are you being weird?" Shawn asked, as he and Cory walked into the cafeteria.

"Topanga," Cory answered.

"I assumed," Shawn sighs as they walk into the cafeteria doors. He tries not to feel annoyed. He and Cory have really been trying to get back to normal since he finally came out. One of Shawn's normal things has always been listening to Cory bitch about Topanga. And as much as he's grown to hate talking about Topanga over the last six months, he knows how much Cory needs it right now.

Jeremy, Beth, and Peter are waiting for them just inside the cafeteria doors. They all fall in together, moving into a much more crowded than usual lunch line. Peter gives Shawn a quick kiss.

"Did you bring your paper?" Shawn asks him.

"And a red pen."

"Good. Feeny asked me to remind you."

"It's very, very weird that you're kind of buds with Professor Feeny."

"He was my next door neighbor growing up," Cory cut in.

"And our principle. And our teacher for like half our classes," Shawn added.

"In what grade?" Peter asked.

"All of them," Cory and Shawn answered together.

After getting their cards swiped they break off into different lines, Cory following Shawn to the salad bar to continue their conversation.

"Topanga wants to visit," Cory says. "Stay with me. For a weekend."

Shawn drops the tongs back into the spinach leaves in surprise. "What? When?"

"This weekend," Cory tells him. "What do I do?"

To his surprise, Shawn has to bite back the words, "Break up with her."

It's the first time he's thought it so completely. All year he's been holding himself back from thoughts like "You need to talk to her about this", "You two need to decide what you really want", and "Should long distance really be this hard?".

He's never gotten all the way to "Break up with her." Even thinking it gives him a tight, gross feeling in his stomach. He's always wanted what Cory and Topanga have, and he's always believed in it. Even after the Lauren debacle. Only Cory had faith longer than Shawn did.

"What do you want to do?" Shawn eventually asks, adding cut red peppers to his salad.

Cory sighs. "I… I want to see her."

There's something in Cory's tone, though. The last couple times Topanga had been coming to Philadelphia to stay with them he'd been… obnoxious. Even smug. Now he seems worried. Shawn stays quiet, scooting his way down the salad bar.

"But…" Cory digs the tongs into the romaine lettuce. "Look, Topanga and I haven't talked about, you know. The hiatus."

"Are you serious?" Shawn demands. "Cory-"

"I know. I know. I just… I thought she was going to break up with me. And I know you and Peter thought the same thing."

Shawn doesn't bother to deny it.

"We've talked on the phone a couple times in the last two weeks. She's called me. I've called her. We've talked about Christmas and school, we just haven't talked about… that. I want to have her come here, and talk to me face to face about… you know. What the hell that was."

"Okay. Well. Then do that," Shawn replies.

"Okay. Okay. I will."

They finish filling their plates and meet Peter, Beth, and Jeremy in a booth. Shawn pulls out the red pen that he really did bring along with him, and goes through Peter's paper while the rest of the table talks around him. When he finishes he hands the paper over to Peter, who pulls out his laptop and makes the corrections.

The five of them linger over dessert as much as they can. Beth and Jeremy leave for their knitting group. Cory goes to the library to get a head start on the home work that Feeny had assigned, leaving Shawn and Peter to take their trays to the kitchen and leave the cafeteria together, mittened hands linked between them.

"So… after you hand your paper off to Feeny do you want to go run that errand?"

"Errand?" Peter yawns.

Shawn smiles and squeezes Peter's hand. "The one we've been talking about?"

"Oh," Peter finally cottons on and squeezes Shawn's hand back.

They've been talking about going to a sex toy shop together. They keep telling each other that they can ask for things, and it's okay if one wants to experiment, but neither ever knew what they might want. It had been Shawn's idea, and he's a little concerned that Peter's not actually into it.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I have to rain check on you today. I was going to hand this off to Feeny, sleep until practice. I think all I'm going to have the energy for tonight is a little bit of cuddling and TV. Is that okay?"

Shawn shoulder checks him. "Yeah. That's fine."

They part ways at the library with a kiss. Shawn stands in the snow, considering his options. He's already read the chapters Feeny assigned in class today. He still only has half a poem to bring to the slam poetry meeting he's going to tomorrow… but it's only his second meeting. No one expects him to have a full performance piece written by tomorrow night.

With no clear plan in mind, he adjusts the strap of his bag and walks toward the bus stop.

Cory glances up at the library clock. He's only managed to get through half of the reading Feeny assigned, but he feels like he understands it and he's taken good notes. He sighs and bends back over his book, then stops.

No. Now he's just repeating bad habits from last semester. He knows he won't learn if he sits here and tries to force the information into his brain.

It's okay to take breaks. That was one of the things he'd been working on with Feeny. And speaking of Feeny, Cory knows that his mentor's late afternoon yoga class is his best bet for a way to relax for a while and come back to the material when he's fresh.

He closes his book and goes back to his room for his yoga stuff. By the time he walks into his dorm he knows he's making the right decision. An hour of sweating and gentle instructions from Feeny is the best way he's found to put anxious thoughts out of his head. It's what got him through the three week hiatus Topanga had put on their relationship and it's what is going to get him through the stress he has right now.

It could be worse. He knows that. He and Shawn are friends again, and he wonders if Shawn realizes that the main reason Cory is taking class with him is to make it practically impossible for them to drift apart the way they did over fall term. If he doesn't think about the three week hiatus, then things are normal with him and Topanga.

But he's still rattling with anxious thoughts. He texted Topanga during lunch to tell her that she should stay with him for the weekend and hasn't heard back from her yet. So much is riding on getting a good grade in this J-term class, and even though he's taken the precautions of Feeny as his teacher and Shawn as his study-buddy, it's tough to be starting over again after he did so badly in the fall.

There are other things too. Things are back to normal between him and Shawn now, but Shawn is still busy with his boyfriend. Cory's last few phone calls with Topanga have been amazing, almost like when they were first dating, but in his gut he can still feel something wrong between them.

He needs to turn all of that off for an hour. And he knows how to do that.

Just the act of rolling out his mat on the tile floor lifts some of the weight off his shoulders. He takes a sip of water and starts stretching out his shoulders.

He's bent over his knees when he hears a soft "pat" of a mat being set down next to him first on his left, then another on his right. The breeze from the first mat dropping smells lightly of lavender and patchouli. Cory lifts his chest up and looks to his left. A girl that he vaguely recognizes gives him a small smile and a wave.

She has short hair. Very short. It's almost as short as his own, except on the top, where it's a riot of tight curls. She has darker eyes than he's ever seen, something about the way the line of her eye curls up at the ends makes it seem like she's laughing, despite the quietness of her. He feels like he recognizes her, and finally, as his eyes drop from her face, he sees the big cartoon otter on her t-shirt, advertising the middle school summer reading program in Durnsville, Indiana, and realizes who it is.

"Shannon," he whispers. "Wow. Nice hair cut. I… didn't recognize you."

Shannon was one of the people from yoga that he'd talked to a couple times. Walked across campus with once or twice. She was usually hunched under the weight of her books and the last time he'd seen her, she'd had dry, wavy hair hanging to her elbows.

She laughs and runs her hand over the curls sprouting over her forehead.

"Thanks. I've been getting a lot of that. I got it done over Christmas."

"It's very cool," Cory said.

Shannon gives him a wider smile. "Thanks."

She opens her mouth to say something else, just as Feeny walks in and tells everyone to move into extended child's pose.

As Cory rearranges his body he sees that Shawn is on the mat on his other side, grinning at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm sure he's not mad," Peter yawns, tucking his arm under Shawn's and around his stomach.

They're spooning on Peter's bed. Theoretically they are watching a movie on Peter's computer, but Shawn knows Peter's half asleep. Shawn's not really watching. He's distracted by other things.

"I know. I know," Shawn sighs. "Just. You know. We've been a little touch and go this year. The Topanga thing is a sore spot. I probably shouldn't have teased him about that Shannon girl flirting with him.

Shawn shifts back against Peter, biting his lip at the feeling of Peter's warm body pressed against him, and the silk sliding against his skin.

His random bus ride had taken him downtown. He'd gotten a latte, and went window shopping. It had been a weird afternoon. He'd kept trying to picture his high school self doing this. Walking around with a five dollar coffee, looking at silly things while wearing a warm jacket. Going into nice stores and not being followed. Thinking about how his boyfriend's birthday was coming up.

He'd wound up, ultimately, at Target to pick up things he needed and could actually afford. A wrong turn had brought him into the hosiery section and that's when he'd seen it.

Maybe it was because he'd been thinking about high school all day. Maybe it was because he and Peter had to keep putting off their little adventure, but the little pajama outfit, silky blue shorts with lace on the legs. A little tank that matched.

He'd tried to tell himself no, but the clearance sticker had swayed him, and the clerks smug look had been easily banished with a saucy wink. At some point before putting it on, he'd laid it out on his bed and sent Angela a picture. Her reply had been lovingly sarcastic.

And now here he is, with lingerie under his clothes, heart thrumming while Peter falls asleep.

He settles his hand onto Peter's, running his thumb over Peter's knuckles until he sighs, and squeezes Shawn a little tighter.

"So, are you ever going to let me read the poem you're writing for your slam team thing?" Peter asks.

"It's for performing, not reading," Shawn answers.

"But you looovveee meeee," Peter argues. He pulls Shawn tight against his body again, in a familiar way that makes Shawn's cock start to go hard. They haven't had sex all week, Peter's basketball and class schedule is just so crazy.

Shawn wriggles out of Peter's grip, and turns so that they are face to face. "You're okay, I guess." He presses a quick kiss to Peter's lips, and sighs happily as Peter pulls him back in for another.

Even as he and Peter kiss and undress each other, Shawn finds himself thinking, just a little, about Cory and Topanga, more specifically, about Cory's only virgin in the room comment. Shawn wonders what Topanga is waiting for. She isn't religious enough for it to be marriage, and she and Cory have been together for so long, it doesn't make sense that it would be for something like compatibility, or trust.

But then Peter climbs on top of him and starts unbuttoning his jeans, and Shawn doesn't have room in head for anyone else's sex life anymore. The fabric glints in the light and Peter grins.

"Silk boxers, huh?" he laughs, pulling Shawn's jeans down a little further.

Shawn's heartbeat is hammering in his chest now. "Not quite." He reaches up and undoes Peter's fly, sliding his hand over Peter's erection.

"Then what are they?"

"You'll see," Shawn whispers. "Undress for me first."

Peter laughs, which almost hides the dark circles under his eyes, and pulls his shirt over his head before hopping off the bed and divesting himself of his pants and boxers.

Shawn swings his legs over the side of the bed, takes Peter's cock in his hand and brings it to his mouth, teasing and kissing as Peter's fingers comb through his hair, and, finally start to tug at Shawn's clothes again.

"No," Shawn says, when Peter grabs at the hem of his shirt. "I want to do it."

He and Peter switch positions, Shawn standing and undressing, with Peter watching. Shawn steps out of his already half off jeans first, then pulls off the light sweater he's wearing over the thin, spaghetti strap tank top.

He feels saucy and cute as he drops his normal clothes to the floor, but the feeling is gone when he looks at Peter's face.

He looks horrified. And when Shawn looks down at the rest of his body, the horror is made even more evident by Peter's deflating cock.

"Um. Whoa," Peter manages.

Shawn doesn't feel saucy or cute anymore. He feels grotesque. He starts pulling the tank top over his head, tears springing to his eyes. "Umm… never mind. I just…"

Peter grabs him around the waist. "Wait. Wait. Okay? Let's um… we should talk about this."

Shawn twists out of his hands. "No. It's fine. We don't have to. I'll just… It's stupid. I'll take it off."

"Shawn, no, talk to me. You… you wanted to try something. I told you that we could try new things. Let's… this is what you wanted to try?"

Shawn's stomach roils. He wants to run away from this. He wants to either slide the stupid lingerie off and pretend this never happened, or throw on Peter's robe and bolt downstairs to his and Cory's room.

But Peter sets his hands on Shawn's waist again. Shawn sucks in a deep breath and, with his mind still demanding that he run away, he moves toward Peter, and sits down on the bed. He snatches his sweater off the floor and pulls it back on. He twitches Peter's sheets over his lap to hide the fake silk and lace shorts.

Peter kisses his cheek. "Okay. So let's talk about it."

Bar none, it is the weirdest relationship conversation Shawn's ever had. They talk about Veronica Wasboyski, and the time Shawn spent a few days in a dress. He has to assure Peter that he doesn't want to be a woman, and he just saw it and liked it. Peter has to assure him that he doesn't think Shawn is disgusting or ugly in it. He just has some hang ups about women's underwear, stemming, he's sure, from the black bra incident in high school, and realizing he was gay when a girl stripped down to her lacies in front of him.

"I'm sorry," Shawn finally says, as Peter scoots back on the bed.

"No, it's fine. Don't be sorry."

"I just… I felt like I could try something and you wouldn't… "

"Freak out?" Peter asks, setting his hands to Shawn's shoulders. He starts digging his thumbs into the muscles at Shawn's neck. "You just surprised me. It's fine."

There's more Shawn wants to say. He wants to tell Peter that he bought the lingerie because he felt safe enough to try something and experiment and be… playful in a way he never would have dared before, because he'd known that eventually, it would turn out alright. Peter wouldn't dump or belittle him for a weird curveball like this. And he hadn't. He hadn't taken it particularly well, but still. Here they were. Still in bed. Touching.

Shawn is starting to feel like he didn't have to… be who he'd always been in order to have people love him. Peter would let him stumble around trying to figure out who he really was. Cory would, eventually, let Shawn grown and change, even when the change threw him for a loop. Hell, even Feeny and Angela couldn't be fazed.

"But you don't like it," Shawn says.

Peter throws his legs wide so Shawn is sitting between them and kisses his neck. "It's not something I would picture you wearing when I'm thinking about you."

"Thinking about me?"

"When you're busy, and I'm horny and I'm thinking about you, you're usually in that ratty red tee shirt. With the om symbol on it. And those sort of… flannel boxers."

Shawn's body warms. Peter still wants to fool around. Detour completed, everything is back to normal.

"If you don't like it, I'll take it off," Shawn insists.

"Let's compromise," Peter says, with another lingering kiss at Shawn's neck. "Take the tank top off."

Shawn leans forward and pulls the nearly weightless fabric over his head, then leans back against Peter again.

Peter takes hold of Shawn's cock over the soft material, and starts jerking him off very, very slowly.

"Now beg to fuck me tonight," Peter growls into Shawn's ear, "And I might just let you."

It does not turn out to be quite the adventurous sex Shawn had been picturing, but it is certainly fun.