A/N: Before I get started, I want to thank all of you who reviewed so nicely! Your reviews have really kept this story going. So, on to the story!

Chapter Three- Or Is this the End

The morning dawns bright and early. As I sit up in my bed, after a surprisingly good night's sleep, I stretch and yawn and think about what I have to do that day. The words that I overheard the previous night still don't figure into my mind, because I'm concentrating on things that I need to get out of the way before Shawn and I can spend the day together. This will be the first time that we'll be able to just hang out in a long time.

So I check in with work briefly, get my needed appointments out of the way, and come home to hear Shawn on his cell phone. Apparently, he has it plugged in somewhere audible, because I can hear who's on the other line- Angela.

"... and Shawna's doing fine. She's loving her new school and everything, and she wants to know when she'll see you next."

"Tell her the very next time that I'm in London, I'll stop in. Is she still up?"

"No, she went to bed an hour ago. I'll tell her in the morning. So, is anything new on your end?"

Shawn makes a non-committal sound. Angela laughs. "Well, I guess not. I still think you and Cory would make a cute couple."

When I hear that statement, my fingers lose all feeling and I almost drop my briefcase. I manage to make my way to my bedroom quietly and sit on the bed before I think about that last statement.

Shawn and I as a couple? What could have given Angela that crazy idea?

I realize I should have stayed and heard Shawn's response right as I hear Shawn hanging up the phone. As I listen to him roam around the house, I sit on my bed, mulling over the idea of Shawn and I... together. It seems like some weird dream.

Finally, I have the presence of mind to change out of my suit and into something more casual. When I finally emerge from my bedroom, Shawn's already in the living room. He's reading something and his attention is focused on the sheaf of papers in his hand. When I come into the room, I softly clear my throat to get his attention. He jumps a little, but then smiles. "Are we ready?"

"Yeah," I reply. He stands up and as we walk to the door, I blurt out what's been on my mind. "Hey, would we make a cute couple?"

Shawn stops dead in his tracks and looks at me, more than a little shocked. "What?"

"Um, because, I was wondering," I say vaguely.

"What brought this on, Cory?"

"Stuff," I say lamely, wishing inside I'd never brought the subject up. "So, what did you want to do?" I ask in a bad attempt to change the subject.

Shawn won't let me off the hook that easy, though. "Look, we need to talk about this, okay? No more evading the subject."

Sighing, I go and sit on the couch. After a beat, Shawn joins me, sitting on the opposite side. "So, why? I mean, what made you think of that?"

"Well, I kinda overheard your phone conversation with Angela. And whoever you were talking to last night." I pause and narrow my eyes. "How do you want things to change, Shawn?"

It's his turn to sigh and look down at the floor. When he finally looks up, his eyes are unreadable. "Never mind, Cory."

"Never mind? What's there to mind?" As I'm looking at him, something finally clicks inside my head. His eyes are suddenly frighteningly clear to me. "Oh my god."

"Yeah." Shawn stares at the ground again. "Are you mad?"

"How long?" I ask curiously.

"Too long," he mutters, still way too interested in my carpet.

"How long is too long?" I press him.

"What did you want me to say?" Shawn faces me squarely. "That when you married Topanga, I wished that it was me, standing next to you at the altar? That I've been in love with you for eight years?"

Too stunned to say anything, I look fully into Shawn's eyes, seeing the pain there. When I finally tear myself from his gaze, I say the first thing that pops into my head. "Did... does Angela know?"

"Yeah. Um..." Shawn gets up and starts pacing, his cheeks flaming. "Do you remember when we were younger, how Angela told Topanga that I called someone else's name at a bad moment?"

I vaguely remember that incident, so I nod and wait for him to continue. "Well, afterwards, Angela and I were still close, but our relationship wasn't the same. So when she moved to London, we called it off."

"I thought you were devastated about that," I murmur just loud enough for him to hear me.

"I was, but not for the reasons you thought I was. I didn't want to face the fact that I might be gay, and Angela basically made me face that head-on."

"What about Jeremy?" I say, internally wincing at the name.

"I really did care for him. That's what kinda got me in this situation with him. Like I said, I never let my feelings get too deep for him, but-" Shawn stops, takes a deep breath, and continues, "And he knew that he wasn't first in my heart. I think that if I had put him first, maybe he wouldn't feel like he needed to do this."

"And maybe the guy's just an asshole," I say dismissively. "If he really cared about your feelings, then revenge would be the last thing on his mind right now."

"Yeah, well..." Shawn's voice trails off and he gets off the couch in one fluid movement. "Look, I can understand if you want me to leave."

"What? No, stay as long as you need to!" I get up too and turn to face him. "Um, it's just, can I..."

Shawn sees what I'm trying to get out and says, "At least you didn't punch me."

I laugh, a little on the strained side, but my mind has already moved on in new ways to embarass me. "So, wasn't it my name that you called out when you and Angela were, you know?" After I say that, I clap a hand over my traitorous mouth, wondering why I hadn't grown out of the habit of blurting out everything I thought like everyone else.

"Yeah," Shawn muttered, gaze back on the ground. "Did I ever catch hell for that one!"

Feeling a little bad, I touch his shoulder briefly. "Hey, it's just that I'm so sexy and all..."

Shawn snorts and walks past me to go outside. He's out the door before I even think to follow him.

One very exhausting, but fun, day later, Shawn and I end up on my couch, reliving old times. It doesn't help that we caught happy hour at two different locations. We're slightly drunk and really maudlin. After the 'do you remembers' and all of the stupid small talk that we degenerate to, we're sitting quietly on my couch. Shawn's kinda nodding off, and I get up, a little too keyed up and uncomfortable to sit still. Suddenly I think of something I can do, and leave Shawn asleep in the couch as I go to my room.

I dial the familiar number and count the rings. The other line is picked up and I hear a breathless "Hello?"

"Jack? Hey, it's Cory. How've you been?"

"Great! And you?"

"The same," I say, trying to inject fake enthusiasm into my voice. "So, is Eric around?"

"Yeah, hold on."

A moment later, Eric comes to the phone. "This better be important! I was about to get taken advantage of!"

I can't help but laugh at that, picturing Eric's perturbed face. "Sorry," I say insincerely. Then I think of the reason I'm calling and my amusement fades. "Hey, I need to talk to you."

"Isn't that what you're doing?"

"Anyway," I say, ignoring my brother's sarcasm, "Shawn's staying with me, and apparently he's in love with me."

"And?"

"And? Insert your various expressions of surprise here."

"You're not getting any from me! We know. He told us over two years ago."

"Two years!" I can hear my voice rising to pre-adolescent levels and attempt to lower it. "Does everyone know?"

"How would I know? Anyway, don't screw him over. He's been hurt enough."

"I know," I say a bit more quietly. "He's here because of it. Are you guys keeping up with the news?"

"Yeah. He called Jack last night, to let us know he was okay."

"And I am taking good care of him. He's my best friend..." As I'm speaking, something else pops into my head. "You were talking about this at the restaurant!"

"I was," Eric states, "trying to get you to see that, yes."

"But... oh." My brain stops, and sluggishly begins working again. "Okay, let's not factor in the part where Shawn's my closest friend. Or even the part where he's a man."

"Got it. So Shawn's a stranger, and apparently a girl. Continue."

"What about the fact..." my voice trails off as my throat closes up.

"The fact that you still miss Topanga?" Eric asks softly.

"Yeah," I whisper.

"I think you and I know the cliches by now. Time heals all wounds, the four stages of grief, blah blah. But I think that it's a little more personal than that. If you need time, tell Shawn that. Don't let him worry."

"Okay."

"So, are we finished? Because Jack's got this great new body paint..."

"Yes we are. Too much info. Bye," I add hurriedly, and hang up the receiver.

I go back out to the living room, where Shawn is still sound asleep. I grab an afghan, a gift from Morgan, and toss it over him.

"'Night," I whisper, before I go in my room and go to bed.

The next day, I wake up really early. I turn over and look at my clock, and the flashing display reads 5:20am. Puzzled why I'm up so early on a day when I don't have to be, because today is Saturday, I get up and pad around my bedroom, looking out at the early light before the sun actually rises. I turn back to look at my bed, the covers still messy and thrown back, and for some reason, this makes me think of the previous day and all of its revelations.

I sit back down, determined to think this through. I know that I love Shawn, like I love Eric or any of the members of my family, but knowing that his feelings toward me aren't exactly brother-like makes me a little hesitant to describe my feelings like that. Plus, isn't that the line that everyone uses as a brushoff? 'Sorry, but I think of you as a brother.'

I frown as that last sentence goes through my head. Although Shawn is close enough to me to be my brother, I really don't think of him like one. I lay back on my bed and try to imagine Shawn kissing me. It isn't a bad thought, but I immediately feel guilty, like I'm betraying Topanga's memory by even thinking of someone doing that with me.

I leave my room and go to Shawn's, belatedly remembering to knock before I enter. Shawn's still asleep, which surprises me a little before I glance at his clock and remember that it's still before 6am. I turn to leave and hear a soft sound behind me.

"Hey Cor, what's wrong?" Shawn asks sleepily. I turn back around to see him sitting up and stretching.

I feel kinda bad for waking him up, so I say, "Oh, nothing. I just wanted to ask you something."

"Well, no time like the present." He pats the bed, and I sit down next to him.

I open my mouth to ask something inane to get out of there, but "Why didn't you tell me?" comes out.

"Tell you what?"

"About how you felt for me."

Shawn sighs softly, and starts picking at the pillows. "Because... I knew that you didn't feel the same way, way back then. And I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or like you had to avoid me."

I nod in understanding, because I can accept that. Then I say softly, "It's just too soon..." My voice trails off and I feel that familiar lump cropping up.

"Do you feel like you're cheating on her?"

"That's exactly how I feel," I murmur, not willing to voice my thoughts any louder. "But," I say, raising my voice, "I did want to tell you that the thought of you kissing me does not repel me."

"Thank you Cory. That means a lot to me."

"What I mean is," I continue, ignoring him, "I think I need some time, to let go. Is that okay?"

"That's fine. Now, can I get some sleep? And suggest that you get some too?"

I want to argue that I'm wide awake, but a yawn slips out. "'Kay."

"Sleep good," Shawn says, as I pad back to my room.

"You too," I say, before I go back into my room and shut the door.

I wake up several hours later, with the sun shining into my room. I sit up, stretch, and began to pick out some clothes for the coming day. As I move around, I note that the apartment is silent, something I've grown to hate over the last three days. Curious, I peek into Shawn's room and see a neatly folded sheet of paper on the freshly made bed. It has my name on it, so I open it.

Hey Sleeping Beauty,

I wanted to tell you this in person, but it seems for once in your life, you took my advice! So, I decided to go back to my house. It'll give you time enough to think. Don't worry about me, the press and I usually get along just fine. So, call me in a few days, or I'll be in touch.

Shawn

PS: Strangely enough, the thought of kissing you does not repel me, either!

After I read the PS, I chuckle a little and pick up the phone. A few rings later, Shawn answers.

"Hey, I didn't want to wait a few days. What time did you leave?"

"Only a couple of hours ago. Like I said, I did want to talk to you, but you were dead to the world!"

"So, are the press and you getting along?"

"Believe it or not, there was only one guy still camped out! And he left after I promised that I wasn't going to do anything newsworthy."

I chuckle at that and then say, "I really will think about this, you know."

"I know you will. So, any plans for today?"

"Not really. Guess I can stand to clean the apartment, or go grocery shopping."

"The exciting life of Cory Matthews," Shawn teases.

"Don't you know it," I quip. "Well, I'll let you run. Don't be a stranger!"

"Wasn't planning to be. 'Bye."

I hang up the phone and sit, lost in thought. The clearest thing running through my head is that if I get into a relationship with Shawn, it will be the same, but enhanced somehow, like something we couldn't say before will be out in the open.

Still, a small part of me has to get used to the idea of me macking on or being macked on by my best friend. Although I was honest with Shawn when I told him that the thought of kissing him didn't repel me, it did make me wonder about myself, and what crazy universe had I ended up in where kissing my best male friend was a good idea.

I get up off the bed and start to move around, shaking all thoughts out of my head. I have time enough for thinking later. 'I'll think about this some more later,' I tell myself as I start to get ready for the upcoming day.

A day passes, then a week, and before I know it, a whole month has passed since I learned about Shawn. I think about him at the weirdest times- at work, in line at the store, when I'm running errands. And they're odd thoughts about how soft his hair is, or how his eyes sparkle when he's really happy, or just how happy he makes me. Finally, I realize that as I'm thinking of Shawn, I can think of Topanga without feeling that someone stabbed me in the chest.

I realize what I have to do, and set out to go do it.

I go up to Shawn's door, not hesitant, now that I know what I want.

I knock and immediately Shawn answers. He smiles at the determination on my face and steps aside to let me in. I walk in until I'm right inside the doorway. Shawn turns to face me, amusement and a little confusion apparent in his glance.

Still silent, I step forward until personal space between Shawn and I is a memory. Now really sure of how to start, but knowing that I can, I slowly lean my head toward his. Once he realizes what my intention is, he tilts towards me, and we sort of... meet in the middle.

From the moment our lips touch, my brain shouts two things: I'm kissing my best friend! and My god, why did I wait so long?

Out of all the girls I've kissed, they had one thing in common, they were all soft and willowy, smaller than me. And I was (seemingly) in control. This is very different. Shawn is every bit as tall as me, and the only softness in him are his hair, which I'm stroking softly, and his eyes, which he still hasn't taken off of me.

When we finally stop, due to lack of air, I take in my best friend's reddened lips, flushed cheeks, slightly tousled hair, and I smile at the thought that I did that to him.

"So," Shawn says, slightly panting, "Any questions?"

"Why did you keep your eyes open?" I ask curiously.

Shawn is silent for a moment. Then he says softly, "Because I wanted to make sure it was real."

The simple response floors me, and for a second, shock dances across my face. Shawn catches it and says smirkingly, "Going to freak out now?" Underneath, and fleetingly, I can sense the hurt.

"No," I assure him, stepping close again, "I'm going to show you how real this is."

END

Thanks bunches to all of the people who helped me stick with this! And I might write a sequel to this (I know, me and my sequels) but not unitl the far, far future. Ciao!