The Victorious [BxBxB] ✓

Sweet

The next few months passed; a river of days and nights, a blur of school work, homework, and exams. Neither Victor nor James wanted to go home for Christmas, so Ollie invited them over to his house. James wasn't sure at first, but he liked Sebastian. He wasn't ready to meet his extended family. He wasn't disappointed either.

Oliver introduced both James and Victor as his boyfriends. The support, the love, the overall unexpected reaction made it more evident why Ollie was Ollie.

James decided he wanted to go into social work. Sebastian was kind enough to help him with his research until he finally found something that he liked.

It was great. It was almost perfect.

His mother had called once before the holidays, asking if he was coming home. He said no, and the phone calls stopped. He got a text from his brother, and that was about it. He didn't tell that to Oliver or Victor. He kept it neatly package inside him, a small box filled with all the sadness and disappointment bought on by this end.

James loved them, of course, but he came to the conclusion that he loved himself more, and sometimes it's better to cut off a limb than let it rot away the rest of you.

He did his best not to think about it.

He was going to get a job that summer. He was going to be his own man.

Among all those things that happened, there was something that didn't. He hadn't kissed Victor, not the way he craved to do. And Victor had kept his confession to himself. James wasn't impatient anymore. He was grateful that Victor was in his life, that he could sleep next to him and hug him.

It was a Monday evening. Oliver left for the library in hopes that he will be able to get some work done without "cute distractions around".

It had been a typical day. It had been a regular day until Victor's phone rang again. Victor was always jumpy when his phone rand and even James' overworked brain cells could put two and two together and figure out why. He had never seen Victor answer, but James was sure he did when he was alone. Victor's mood would swing dramatically, sometimes he would just crash for days in bed, like a comatose patient. James did his best.

Victor dropped the pen he was biting on and frowned. His first instinct was to scan his surroundings; it always was.

James didn't say anything, saying something now was only going anger him. Oliver never mentioned it either.

James took his hand and kissed it; he loved doing that. Victor looked at him, paler than usual, his breathing too deep for someone who was just laying in bed. James tried remembering where his inhaler was.

"Let's go for a walk?" he asked. "It stopped snowing."

"I don't like the cold," Victor said. James pecked his forehead, touched his cheek, and smiled.

"Come on; you've been cooped up in this room for weeks now. All we've been doing is reading and writing papers. I'm tired of literature and Latin and math, I think my brain is shrinking, like a raisin."

Victor smiled. It was soft; it was rare and so unusual on him; someone who was all sharp lines and knife-edge smirks. It was beautiful and maddening.

"Have you always been this dramatic?" Victor asked, forcing himself to get out of bed. "Fine, let's go. I want a coffee first."

"I'll get you one," James said.

They walked to the cafeteria and got two hot coffees before exiting the building. The outside world was white and silent. James liked the way the snow felt under his boots, the way the air smelled.