The Victorious [BxBxB] ✓

It's Not All Bad

The next thing that happened lifted James' spirits. The next witnesses were young men, about James' age. Some looked younger than they were. James remembered Victor mentioning Mason's lovers. Barely legal men. There were about six of them, but a voice inside James' head kept insisting that there had to be more. Maybe those were the ones that agreed to testify? James wasn't sure, but he was glad the odds were slowly turning in their favor.

Mark-Michael could barely hide his satisfaction. The questioning was making Mason look more and more like the monster he really was. Each time one of the young men left the stand, they took a layer of Mason's pretense humanity with them.

Did you ever feel threatened? Mark would ask each of the guys. The answer was always yes.

Have you ever felt pressed, or forced to consent?

Did you fear he'll get violent?

Yes, was the answer.

Was he ever physically violent?

Yes.

James watched everything unfold; he felt the judging eyes change to shock; he could tell the admiration was fading. Mason was falling. His makeshift pedestal was being repeatedly kicked from under him.

Then the judge called it a day. James got up from his seat, slowly. He went outside the courtroom with Ollie and waited for Victor to finish chatting with his lawyer.

"We should go to my place," Oliver said, stopping next to a vending machine. He put in a bill, then watched it being spat out. He tried again, and the same thing happened. "Ungrateful." Ollie frowned.

James took out some money from his wallet and gave it to him. "Try this."

Oliver bought some small bags of chips, which James somehow ended up carrying to Sebastian's car. Victor came a bit later and threw a half-smoked cigar in a trashcan. Sebastian gave him a water bottle.

"I'm not going to go to court until the closing statements," Victor said. "I feel like a 90-year-old man after a marathon."

Ollie pouted and leaned his head against Victor's shoulder. "You're a very handsome 90-year-old man."

"With a headache," Victor added.

"That only adds to your stoic look." Oliver nodded wisely.

"I don't have a stoic look." Victor pulled Ollie's beanie over his eyes. "Are you calling me old?"

"We're the same age!" Ollie whined. "Now you'll have to take care of me because I can't see."

Victor chuckled. "What if I say no?"

"I'll die, obviously."

"What a horrible way to go," Victor said, opening the car's back door and guiding Oliver inside. Then he proceeded to push him gently towards the other side of the seat.

James sat down next to the driver and leaned back, closing his eyes. He wasn't sure how he stood with Victor if they could talk properly or not. The trial wasn't technically over, but the hard part was? He wasn't sure about that either. He had to ask, but this didn't seem the right moment to open his mouth and voice that particular concern.

The ride to Oliver's house was surreal. Victor and Oliver kept gently bullying each other, like children hyped on sugar. Victor was poking Oliver's stomach and ribs, making him yell-laugh. Oliver tried doing the same, but Victor was better at deflecting.

"Stop!" Ollie whined. "Let me poke you! Let me!"

"No." Victor smiled, pinching Ollie's nose between his knuckles.

"Please, let me poke you. I will trade one kiss."

Victor laughed. "One kiss for one poke?"

"One kiss for three pokes."

"Too many pokes."

"Please!" Ollie wiggled his head, trying to break free.

Victor let go. "Ok, fine! You little monster."

Oliver wiggled his eyebrows, then moved his pointer finger slowly towards Victor's stomach. He pressed it only a bit into his jacket. "One." He looked over Victor's body, then touched his shoulder. "Two."

"One more," Victor said.

Ollie hummed, nodding, pretending to be in deep thought. He decided to poke Victor's cheek; then, he planted a small kiss over it. "There! Now we're even."

Victor wrapped his arms around Oliver and hugged his head. He took off his beanie and ruffled his hair. Ollie laughed.

Soon enough, Sebastian was parking the car in front of his house. He said something about ordering food since they deserved some greasy, artery-clogging delights after such a hard day. Everyone agreed. James was willing to eat anything besides gummies and chips. They stepped inside the house, and immediately James could hear Freckle's tiny paws against the floor. Freckle stopped in front of them and sat down. His big, round eyes fixated on James.

"What?" James asked, looking down at the orange cat.

Freckle opened his mouth slowly and let out a long, painful wail of a scream. James was startled. He took a step back and bumped into Victor. "What does he want?" James asked again.

Victor laughed. "I don't know. Are you afraid of this little Freckly boy?" He crouched and stretched out his hands. Freckle ran to him and allowed Victor to pick him up. "What do you want? Are you hungry? Are you bored? Are you a little monster?"

Freckle mewed. James didn't know what that meant. Maybe Freckle was agreeing to all of the above or adding his own input.

"I'm not afraid of him," James said, crossing his arms. Maybe just a little. Freckle had very sharp teeth.

"Don't be fooled," Sebastian said, taking off his shoes. "He's dramatic because you spoil him."

"Wait!" Ollie threw his beanie at Victor. "You can't call him that; that's my nickname! He's not a little monster; he's a boyfriend thief!"

James smiled. He felt like he had been plucked out of a nightmare and thrown back into the real world. Not all was bad. Not everything was horrible. There was still hope. 

Author's note<3: 

It's not all bad! There are still things that need to be discussed, but they're all in a safe space, with an orange yelling cat to watch over them. James will always need advice. So if you have anything for him, please share!