The Victorious [BxBxB] ✓

For What It's Worth

James studied his phone.

The blue checkmarks told him that Victor had read his message. The three wobbly dots indicated an incoming message. James was glaring at his phone so intensely that he was worried he might go blind.

Dot. Dot. Dot.

Victor was still typing. It's been a minute. What was he doing? What was he doing!? James was sweating; the anxiety of waiting for a reply was making him paranoid.

Dot. Dot. Dot.

Then the dots disappeared. James blinked quickly, trying to get rid of the burning sensation in his eyes. He dropped the phone next to him and covered his face with his hands. He wanted to shout. He was such an idiot. Such a fucking idiot.

Ten minutes later, his phone finally vibrated, startling him. James rushed to pick it up and almost dropped it.

Victor answered. "Ok."

James stared at it. Ok? Ok, what? He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, trying to regain some self-control. Then he called Victor.

"Hi," Victor said. James could hear some noise in the background. Victor was probably watching a movie.

The knot in his throat grew. He felt like Snow White choking on a piece of apple. "Hi." James managed to say, his voice breaking. He coughed. "Hi."

"You wanted to talk?" Victor asked.

"I do. Yes. I do. I want to talk. I- I want to see you. I want to talk face to face." Please, please, I beg you, he wanted to add.

"Oh, is that so?" Victor asked in a teasing, ironic voice. James could picture the snarky smirk on his face. "What if I say no?"

"I don't know," James said, honestly. "All I know is that I want to see you and apologize properly." He scratched the side of his neck. "If you also want to see me, that is."

A long pause buzzed into James' ears, allowing all types of horrible thoughts to swarm his mind. After an eternity, Victor sighed.

"James, I don't know how to tell you this, but I'm – I am stressed. Stress is not even strong enough to describe what I'm feeling. And this isn't helping and I'm tired of conflict."

"I know. I've been kind of shitty."

Victor didn't say anything.

"I've been really shitty," James rephrased. "I get if you don't want to see me right now, but I am sorry."

Victor sighed. "Look, James, don't take this the wrong way-" he paused, just enough time to make James feel like time was still, that he was submerged in gelatine, struggling to breathe, "- but I'd rather not see anyone right now."

Anyone, James thought. He had been demoted from boyfriend to anyone. Actually, he was nobody. And while that word was playing on repeat in his head, Victor was waiting patiently. The rejection was a hit in every sore spot he had; it was like trying to climb a rope with oiled up hands and weights tied around his ankles. He was losing his grip; he was falling.

"Ok." James managed to mutter, trying to conceal every negative thing he was feeling. Sadness. Desperation. Remorse. "I love you," he added, knowing he couldn't repeat it enough times, that he could say it a thousand times and it wouldn't be enough. He could say it a million times, and it wouldn't stick as hard as one "I hate you."

"Ok." Victor's voice washed over him like dark, soft velvet. James felt a thrill through his entire body. "Thank you for calling."

"Please don't go." James didn't have time to think about what he was saying. "I – what can I do?"

"Nothing, really. I – I love you too. For what it's worth, I'm also sorry for bailing the cross-examination. I'll see you after the trial." Victor hung up.

The silence was piercing his ears. He was alone, in his room, holding his phone against his ear. Victor didn't want to see him. Victor loved him. Victor didn't want to see him. Victor loved him. Victor didn't want to see him until the trial was over. James stood. His heart was having a fit in his chest, throwing a tantrum, throwing itself against his ribcage like a spoiled brat.

Victor didn't hate him. God, at least there was that. At least there was that. But the trial, he couldn't wait until the end of a fucking trial to talk to him.

When Ollie returned, James told him everything. It triggered guilt in him. Poor Ollie barely managed to put one foot in through the door before James started talking.

Ollie was taken aback but regain focus immediately. "Ok, ok, ok," he said while closing the door behind him. "Ok, calm down, breath a little, will you? It's free."

"What do I do? What do I do? I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked - "

"Jamie," Ollie cut him off. "Breathe. It's fine. Victor has a lot to deal with right now. He said he loves you, right? He wouldn't lie about that. So have some patience with him, give him some space."

James nodded, pacing around and rubbing his head.

"James."

"Yes, yes, I'm not gonna... go throw pebbles at his window. I just want to – I don't know, I miss him. I want to be there during the trial."

Oliver nodded and took his shoes off before sitting on James' bed. "Well, it seems that you'll have to wait."

James didn't like that.

James hated that. 

Author's note<3: 

Imagine Victor typing out his angry, block of text rant message, before deleting it and replying with an "ok". That's some self-control!

What do you think about Victor's decision? Can James do anything to change his mind? When will the kissy scenes come, I'm craving fluff.