The Victorious [BxBxB] ✓

A House Is Not A Home

James watched Victor drag himself into the car and get into the passenger's seat. James sat in the back. His thought felt clogged, cloudy. Victor wasn't taking, and Ollie was silent too. James wanted to fling himself out the door.

"Hey," James grabbed both their seats and dragged himself closed to them. "Let's get ice-cream."

Victor turned, and Ollie looked at him through the rearview mirror. Victor was frowning, but both were equally confused.

"It's been tense," James sighed. "My head hurts. I need sugar. And you do too, you addicts."

"Ok," Ollie shrugged and turned his attention back on the road. "If Victor wants too."

Victor lifted his shoulders once and melted back into his seat. His lack of energy wasn't something new, but this felt different.

James dropped back and forced a deep breath into his lungs. He wanted someone to turn on the radio, or fill in the silence with something; break it with words, distract him from the constant idea that Victor was never going to trust him again. And then there was this urge to keep asking if he's ok.

Ollie parked the car in front of an ice-cream store.

"Guys, I don't want to ruin my dad's car. I already scratched it... twice. And then I bumped into a pole."

James chuckled. "We can go inside, it's empty anyway."

Victor shrugged. James hated that gesture, the lack of interest, the way Victor refused to talk to them. He didn't want their interactions to be just that, a series of frowns and looks and shrugs.

Oliver's eyes darted to Victor, and obvious worry clouded his face. He reached out towards Vic's hand.

"We don't have to if you're not feeling it," Ollie said.

"I'm feeling it," Victor pulled his hand away and stepped out of the car.

James followed.

The store was small, but the tables were round and cute, and the chairs were all mint colored.

"I'll buy, what do you want?" James asked.

Ollie looked at him with big eyes and smiled from ear to ear. He grabbed onto James' arm.

"I want every weird colored flavor. The blue one, and the green one, and the..." Ollie stretched his neck up and looked at what was available, "And that purple one."

"Ok," James leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Vic?"

"The yellow one, and the pink one too. And sprinkles, maybe I'll choke on one and die."

"That's not funny." Ollie pouted.

"It's just a joke." Victor crossed his arms and legs. "Lighten up." There was nothing light about his tone.

James went to the counter and ordered. He got chocolate for himself; he wasn't in the mood to experiment with colors. When he returned to the table, Oliver was chatting with Victor, holding his hand over Victor's wrist.

James sat down. Guilt still bubbled in his stomach.

"You look like you're constipated," Victor stated, tasting the pink ice-cream. "Huh, watermelon."

Ollie snuck next to him and scrapped some off with his own tiny plastic spoon. Oliver made sure to hold Victor's gaze while doing so.

"I hate sprinkles," Ollie wrinkled his nose. "Tastes like... chewy."