At the very least Frederick attended classes once more, there were too many feelings better left unsaid which had been laid out in front of the whole college. Nobody deserved that, nobody. Alex and Thomas had taken this challenge way too far but he couldn't even begin to apologize to his ex-boyfriend who kept getting dragged away by his people. Before this he had attempted to check on Frederick due to the worryingly long radio silence except Lee had set up camp before his boss' door and refused to let anyone not from the Royalist group inside. Exhausted and entranced by the tune of the water hitting the window, the general let himself drown in his deep thoughts.

Last year Peterson had remembered his past life entirely, his boyfriend had very quickly noticed something had changed: Washington would take longer to reciprocate touch, get lost in day-dreaming all while refusing to explain. Maybe the general had wished to pretend things wouldn't change despite his memories and Thomas so eager in gathering his old acquaintances. In the end he never knew how Frederick learnt the truth, however slowly King would stop cuddling, come back late or go missing for days altogether.

Till that one morning past 2 am when regardless of many texts and calls his boyfriend hadn't been at his own flat or in classes, he found him tagging on the walls with Charles Lee of all people. Peterson in the spur of the moment outed himself as first POTUS resulting in Frederick crying and laughing for ten minutes with everyone else too flabbergasted to ask what the hell was going on.  “I-I can't believe you just told a total stranger about your past life and never me!” Had uttered King between two giggles while the Redcoats were burning holes in Washington with their disapproving glare. Later in the morning Frederick came to pick up his stuff, revealed he remembered his other life a week ago following the news of his favorite cousin Amelia being deceased, once his daughter two centuries ago. All while meeting Peterson's eyes King choked how he couldn't get a hold of his lover during those events because he was out with his past friends. He even told him in person who he used to be but his boyfriend didn't pay attention somehow.

Washington's daydreaming was broken by a knock, suppressing a sigh he got up: only Alex was reckless enough to climb the rain gutter multiple times past second floor. However in front of the glass a bruised and drenched Frederick plastic bag in his other hand starred sheepishly at his ex-lover. Frozen and confused by the sight the general stood there for a few minutes before dragging him inside by the hoodie, disappeared into his room then soon came back with a change of clothes and a towel.

Little red-riding hoodie now dryer spread the contents of his bag on the table: cans of beer and partly smashed chocolate box. The quizzical look from the host was answered by a sly grin and a sultry 'Movie night' whisper by the unexpected guest who after setting the DVD dragged his ex-boyfriend back on the couch. Peterson could hardly hold back his laughter as the title screen appeared, of all the things they watched together Frederick pulled THAT movie!

“Hey! It wasn't that bad,” Pouted the red-riding hoodie leaning further in the sofa, “ probably not worth sneaking out of my conservative grandparents' house though.”

- Definitely not. The restaurant was nice but that's because I was the one to pick it!” Retorted Washington half-smiling glancing the student wearing clothes two times his size. “Then you got grounded for breaking three gutters trying to get back in!”

- Okay! Okay! We had more closet time though the week after that so it was all good. Let's not cry over spilt tea.” Shrugged Frederick winking at the host first despondent then just groaning taken back by the return of the bad jokes.

- PLEASE it's not even past midnight yet! You know what? Never mind! Tell the world how General Washington was slayed by royal puns!” Moaned Peterson clutching his chest, slouching deeper and deeper into the couch while his other hand was reaching for the sky.

Time passed swiftly once Frederick had broken the awkward silence between the two. The film did hold their attention otherwise they would playfully bicker over rations with King falling off the couch trying to keep them for himself. More often than not the latter would cautiously close in the space separating them, repeatedly glancing at Washington's face searching for disapproval. Yet as they became less and less sober he leaned on the general's broad shoulder and later simply rest his head on his lap. Their hands had long found their way back together as naturally as geese fly south craving with absolute certainty. Once in a while the red-riding hoodie would tighten his grip, in his haggard eyes a shimmer of fear he would wake up to an empty bed and icy cold sheets. As for Peterson  he was twirling then untangling the ginger curls, aware of the need to discuss how to work out this relationship but content with this moment of peace after such dreadful weeks.

At some point the general startled by the menu music blasting from the speakers suddenly recalled they had started a movie. Once the TV was turned off, he nudged King whose snore still sounded like a cat's, faint almost like wheezing. Things didn't change that much after all: the grumpy look on his face as he reluctantly opened one eye assessing whether he REALLY had to get up or not, was the exact same one. Speaking of bedtime Washington ought to move the guest on his bed and leave the sofa for himself not exempt from morning classes. Tentatively the red-riding hoodie swayed back up on the couch, ignoring the black spots in his vision stared at the host for two minutes then mumbled followed by falling right on the other side: “I'm stayin here night.”

- Nope. Unless you wanna rise at six.” Spelled out Peterson dragging into the bedroom his guest who dropped on the mattress nearly the second they entered. Objective number one accomplished and after grabbing a blanket and a pillow was ready to head out when a hand clasped  his wrist pulling him on the bed.

- Hey... I know... you didn't help Hamilton with that pamphlet...”, Confessed King avoiding his ex's tired eyes attempting to cover it with a forced laugh and rambling, “I mean they didn't even checked my spelling! I was like 'Wow, these new beta-readers are crap!' Anyway... thanks for letting me in. Had a great time! Tell me if you wanna spend another night with me any time bed or couch!”

- Shhh talk less.” Spoke the general as he warped his arms around the stressed red-riding hoodie who crumbled under the touch whimpering, having missed those embraces for so many months. Ultimately both slipped under the covers, reveling into this tender warmth tied to much simpler times deprived of ancient and heavy memories. Loneliness and longing vanished under the new dawn, it was still dark but they were together once more.

The following morning Frederick groggy bumped into the same wall twice and a desk, tripped over a coffee table before recalling he was in his ex-lover's apartment and not his own. While the mist had cleared up, the nausea refused to let go of the past monarch who settled on a glass of water and reluctantly crossed slushie off his shopping list. Suddenly the realization that no one except Peterson knew where he was he hit him like a canon ball, with the violence of a hurricane he flipped over every pillow and blanket searching for his phone until he saw a note on the coffee table signed by the host.

“Pudding in the fridge and tea bags in the cupboard. Also in your latest story the writing for the actions scenes was clumsy and awkward, meet me at 1:30 pm closet under the stairs next to the chemistry classroom for practice,     Peterson.”

A quick glance at his watch displaying 1:20 slapped the red-riding hoodie awake as he hastily threw over his sweater, still wearing his borrowed clothes. Though the campus Frederick ran the goofiest grin on his face, jubilant over having a second chance at their romance.