The Victorious [BxBxB] ✓

The Talk

James had to go to class. He felt awful leaving Victor alone, but he insisted he wanted to sleep more. His black circles weren't even blue anymore, they were a deep red-purple shade that worried him.

James kept thinking about the conversation he was going to have with Oliver. He went through all possible scenarios and in each of them Oliver dumped him. How could he face his boyfriend and say that he had a crush on another guy? That he jerked off thinking of someone else?

He had turned the same words in his head so many times that they had lost their meaning.

The stress was becoming unbearable. He was choking on it.

He couldn't even eat lunch.

After he crawled through hours of boring, uninteresting lessons, he found Oliver and hugged him, kissed his forehead and temples and lips.

"I missed you too, lover." Oliver laughed.

"Can we talk?" James asked. He was certain he was about to faint.

It was finally happening. He was about to shoot himself in the foot and ruin the best relationship he ever had. The only relationship he ever had.

"Yes?" Oliver frowned; concern was clear on his face. "Are you ok? Are you sick? Are you breaking up with me?!"

"No! No, why would I break up with you?"

"I don't know! I'm perfect," he said, "but nothing good starts with can we talk or we need to talk."

"Let's go to my room?" James considered this for a brief moment, then shook his head. "No, Victor might be there."

"Let's go outside." Oliver took his hand and lead him towards the exit. "You're nervous. Why are you so nervous? You're making me nervous."

"I'm sorry," James said. His heart was pounding in his chest and he was feeling lightheaded.

"It's ok, it's ok, I love you." Oliver leaned against him and smiled. "Stop being so tense, it can't be that bad, right. You didn't murder anyone."

James hummed.

"James, did you murder someone?"

"No."

They walked out and found an empty bench under a tree. James dropped on it and rubbed his face. God, this was a terrible idea! He wanted to run and hide and pretend it never happened. He wanted to fall off the face of the earth.

Oliver touched his back.

"What's wrong?"

"I want you to know that I'm very sorry." James started. He couldn't lift his head. He was afraid he was going to see judgment and hatred.

"Sorry about what?" He paused for a moment. "Will you look at me, please?"

"I don't think I can."

"Jamie-James, come on! Please? Let me look at your pretty face. Look at my pretty face. Please stop freaking me out."

James sighed and obliged. He would've twisted himself into a pretzel if it made Oliver happy.

"Ok, better." Oliver cupped his face and kissed him on the lips. "Now tell me, what's wrong."

James broke down. "I didn't mean to. It happened and now I don't know what I feel!"

He could see the panic on Oliver's face. There it was, it was happening. He was going to get dumped on a bench, like an idiot. The best he could hope for now was to not throw up.