The Victorious [BxBxB] ✓

It's Not About You

"Victor," James repeated, squeezing his shoulder.

Victor pulled away from his touch. James didn't know how to take this rejection; he was flooded with both annoyance and guilt.

"Let's go inside," James said. "It's fucking cold out here."

Victor wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and took a deep breath. A few seconds later, he turned towards James. "It's winter. Of course, it's cold."

There it was, that attitude that James hated. The cold, borderline rude demeanor that he had no idea how to handle.

"Don't be difficult." James got up.

Victor glared at him. "Don't tell me what to do." He paused. "Actually, I'm not doing anything. I'm sitting here. How am I difficult? I didn't ask you to come outside."

James pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ok, so what do you want to do, sit here, in the cold, alone and sad?"

Victor stood. He took a step towards James, closing the distance between them. He was now close, so close that his breath was turning into steam on James' face.

"Do you have a problem with that?" Victor's eyes were red, still teary, but his frustration was palpable.

The conversation felt like a slippery slope towards a fight. Victor was complicating things because that's what Victor liked to do.

"Of course, I have a problem with it!" James gritted his teeth and grabbed Victor by the arms. "Of course, I do. What makes you think this is pleasant for me? You think I like seeing you like this?"

"Like what?" Victor barked back. "All I want is some alone time. Is that so fucking hard to understand?"

James lifted his hands in surrender and took a step back. "Fine." He ran his palms over his face and head. "Fine! Do whatever the fuck you want. Have fun, cry, whatever. I'm going to bed."

He wanted to shout, to hit something. He didn't know what else to do with his pent-up anger. He didn't wait to hear Victor's answer before turning around and walking back inside the house. He went to Oliver's room and dropped next to him in bed.

"Where's Victor?" Ollie got into a sitting position and looked down at James. "Is he ok?"

"He's pissed off," James said. "And he pissed me off too." He didn't want to talk about it anymore. "Let's sleep, ok?"

Ollie shifted, unsure, but he relented and got under the covers.

James kept hoping that Victor will yield and join him and Oliver. He didn't. And yet James waited, and waited, unable to fall asleep. The next morning, he dragged himself out of bed, feeling like his head was about to explode. His eyes burned. Oliver was still sleeping, and once he was alone in bed, he stretched over the entire mattress like a starfish.

A bit later, James went downstairs to see if Victor was there. And he was. In the living room, on the couch, with the TV playing something in the background. Freckle was on his stomach, curled like a croissant. James opened his mouth to say something, he was about to, but he stopped. Instead, he walked into the kitchen and made coffee, then sat at the table and drank it alone.

Time passed, but he didn't keep track, it could've been ten minutes, it could've been half an hour. Victor appeared in the doorframe and stopped in his tracks, with a frown slapped over his face. He probably wasn't expecting James, or anyone for that matter, to be there so early in the morning. He looked pale. Exhausted. His dark circles reminded James of the first time they met.

James wanted to ignore him. He also desperately wanted to hug him.

"What?" James snapped.

Victor sighed, shaking his head. "Nothing." He turned around and left.

Author's note<3:

Is anyone surprised that James put his foot in his mouth? Is Victor difficult? Let me know your thoughts!