It was odd the way the relationship between Oliver and Victor started changing. About a week later, after returning from the gym, he found Oliver watching a movie with Victor. Well, to be fair, Oliver was watching the movie, and Arlington was sleeping on his back, with his laptop right on his stomach.

Oliver was holding his hand so tightly, James wondered how the hell he could sleep through that pain. Or how his bones didn't just snap.

"Hey?" James said. Oliver jumped. 

"Oh, Jesus…" He sighed. "You scared the life out of me."

"What are you doing?"

"Watching a horror movie." Oliver paused it, still holding onto Victor. "I hate horror movies."

"So why didn't you pick something else?" James took off his shirt. 

Oliver's eyes snapped right on his stomach and chest, and his lips parted.

"Oliver, babe, focus."

"Oh yeah." He chuckled. "It was his bright idea. And look at him now." He shook Victor's arm. "He abandoned me."

"How tragic, I'm going to take a shower."

"Can I join?" Oliver wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, a grin widening on his face. It was totally something he would ask. 

"Yes," James said without thinking much. 

It wasn't a problem worth thinking over. Oliver jumped out of bed and hugged him, even if he was sweaty and sticky. He placed his fingers over James' stomach and dragged it down towards his belt. 

"Flex." He demanded, and James did; he was overly willing to submit to whatever weird requests Oliver had, whenever he had them. 

"Thank you, daddy." He winked and walked into the bathroom.

"Thanks, babe. Now I have a boner,"

"When was that ever a problem?" Oliver was taking off his shirt. "Come shower already."

A couple of days later, James walked in, and this time both of them were awake. Oliver was looking over Victor's shoulder into a Switch console. Of all people, Victor Arlington seemed the least likely to engage in gaming casually. Yet there he was, doing just that. 

Neither of them noticed him, so he took the chance to lean on the doorframe and observe them. There was no tension between them, no animosity, no fear that one of them would snap in anger. He envied that. 

Victor was focused on what he was doing, but he had the same overall demeanor of someone just enjoying a calming hobby. It was one of those rare moments when Victor looked his age. It was one of those instances where James thought about how handsome he was. 

"Hey," he said, and Oliver was the one that looked at him first. He smiled widely and bounced his way to him. They hugged and kissed, taking the term "overly affectionate" to a different level. 

"What's up?" James asked.

Oliver shrugged. "I'm watching Victor play Animal Crossing."

"I didn't know you play games."

"Don't pretend you know everything about me," Victor said.

"I'm not." James sat on the edge of his bed and took his shoes off. He didn't want to start a fight; he didn't want to bicker. He didn't want to ruin the mood. "I just never pictured you as a gamer type."

"Oh, please, I could beat you at any game." Victor met his eye. 

"Really? You think so? I have Mario Kart if you're brave enough." 

"You're on."

And Victor Arlington, Mr. "I get a haircut every two weeks", absolutely dominated. He won and won and won, like all he's ever done in his life was to learn how to play Mario Kart. James had to admit defeat before he threw the controller across the room. 

"Ok, I'm not a sour loser," he said, knowing full well that it was a lie, "You're good."

"I'm not good," Victor said. "I'm great."

Victor's phone vibrated. He reached over and looked at his texts. He lifted his eyebrows as he started typing his answer.

Oliver whined and dropped his head on Victor's lap. "No, I know what your text means."

"What?" Victor didn't look up from the screen.

"You're going to go missing again, for a week or God knows, and then you'll come back, or get dragged back, and you'll be drunk or drugged out of your mind. And then I'll worry and cry. Do you want to make me cry?"

"Please, I'm not a fan of drama." 

Oliver looked at James. He didn't know what Oliver wanted from him as if Victor would somehow listen to what he had to say! If any of them could convince Arlington to drop his night of drinking and whatever else, it was definitely not James.

Oliver then pouted, and James sighed. Well, he was just as likely to commit murder if his boyfriend made that face. 

"Victor, do you really think this is a good idea?"

Victor glared at him; his eyes were like gunpowder in the artificial dorm light.

"I think it's a splendid idea; thank you for asking." His words were bitter, rotten fruit. He was on the verge of throwing something at him. 

Oliver buried his face into Victor's stomach. "Just hang out with us," he said. "Come on; we're fun too. I'll watch a horror movie with you! I'll even buy you soda and snacks and tell you that you're pretty!"

Victor rolled his eyes. He was still tense. James could tell by the way his veins bulged on his white hands. "Fine," he said, "But don't get used to this. I have a life too."

"Thank you, thank you, I'll go get chips!" Oliver hugged him before running out of the room.

"You're not that bad," James said. It was eery calm in the room without Oliver's energy to liven everything up. He hated that. He also had no idea if it was a weird tension he was feeling. He wasn't sure if it was all in his mind, the odd vibe between them, or Victor just didn't give a fuck.

"I'm great," Victor said deadpan. James still had trouble figuring out when he was sarcastic and when he was serious.

"I don't know about that; I'm not impressed yet."

"I'm really not trying to impress you."

"I've noticed you kind of made it your point to ignore me."

"Wasn't that the agreement? Let me think, how did you put it? Try to keep your stuff to yourself, oh, and I'll be bringing people to bed. Girls, guys, whatever I find attractive. Problem?"

"Was that verbatim?" James asked.

"More or less."

"And yet, you had troubles remembering my name."

"I have trouble remembering everyone's name. All I hear is a buzzing sound when people introduce themselves, and all I can think is the audacity of these people, how dare they speak to me."

"Are you serious?"

"Do I look serious?" Victor asked before smirking. It was the tiniest of smiles, but it made James feel his stomach turning into an acrobat. Why!? Why could Arlington, of all people, rile him up like that? 

Oliver returned with soda, chips, and some candy bars. He got back in bed with Victor and laid back next to the wall.

"Movie night!" He announced. Victor moved next to him and pulled his laptop on his stomach. "James, my sunshine, my cotton candy, my… uhm… hot boyfriend, come here." Oliver said.

James had to think a little about it. Oliver was next to the wall, so if he joined, Victor would be stuck between the two of them. He wasn't certain this was the best of ideas, and he didn't want to be the one forcing people to move. Actually, he had no problem doing that; the issue was that it wasn't just some regular folks he had to shove away. 

"Afraid, Brooks?" Victor asked as he scrolled through Netflix for something gruesome, James imagined. From what Oliver told, Victor enjoyed his gore.

"Fuck no," James puffed. "I'm not afraid of some CGI and red corn syrup."

It was a tight fit, but he managed to lie on his back with a pillow shoved under his neck. Victor was next to him, pressed into him. Fuck, fuck, fuck, why was he feeling a certain type of way?

The movie started, and twenty-five minutes in, Victor fell asleep. Oliver laughed and took the bag of chips from Victor's chest.

"I don't think he can finish a movie. At least he's cute when he sleeps." Oliver poked Victor's nose.

"More manageable," James agreed. "Let's finish the movie; I'm invested now."

James had the honor of turning off the laptop and shoved it under the bed. He didn't want to sleep alone, so he didn't bother leaving the bed. He was probably going to wake up before Victor.

He was hyperaware of his breathing now. Oh, how warm and nice his body felt. 

"Give me your hand," Oliver said. "I think I'm traumatized for life. How will I ever sleep again? My stomach hurts from the stress."

"You'll be fine. If anything happens, we can sacrifice Arlington." James reached over and felt Oliver's fingers interlace with his.

"Night, night, don't let the evil man take me."

"Good night, babe," James said.

The next morning James woke up first. His arm was numb, but at least he was still in bed and not sprawled on the floor like a sad, drunk, college student. He pulled his hand back and stretched. Oliver had managed to half climb over Victor and was drooling on his chest.

Oliver was once of the most beautiful people he had ever seen, and his chest rumbled every type he looked at him. He wanted to touch him all the time, to kiss him, to hold him, to have him near him, and tell him how pretty he is. He wanted to hear him ramble about whatever TV show he was watching or complain about how he hated his reading assignments because dyslexia sucks.

He got up and walked into the bathroom. He needed a shower, and it was necessary to brush his teeth before he killed himself with his own morning breath.

If he was so infatuated with Oliver, why did Victor keep popping up in his mind? What the hell was Victor even doing in his thoughts? Did he like him now? Why, because Oliver liked him?

He realized he was unfair. Victor wasn't awful once you managed to look through that unreadable face and unbreakable voice. He could be nice.

He saw Oliver in the mirror, walking behind him. He felt his arms around him and his head on his back. "Morning." He muttered. He was lovely in the mornings, with his wild curls framing his face like a mane. He was growing it out, Oliver had told him, and he wanted to be able to tie it in a bun.

James spat his toothpaste in the sink. "Morning, sunshine." He sipped some water.

"James?"

"Hmm?" He was swirling the water in his mouth.

"James, I think I love you." James chocked violently. Oliver was patting his back. "Sorry, bad timing?" James chuckled and wiped the foam off his mouth before turning towards him. He cupped his face and squeezed his cheeks gently.

"You really don't want to let me do anything in this relationship, do you?"

Oliver pouted. "But I love you," he said "You wanted me to keep that to myself? Let it… rot me from the inside? Horrible."

"I love you too." James smiled and kissed him. "Brush your teeth, you heathen."

Oliver smirked. "I'll change your name in my phone to daddy and put a heart emoji next to it."

"I'll change yours into heathen who doesn't brush his teeth before confessing."

"How avant-garde. But put a heart after it so people will know."

"What people?" James asked.

"Imagine this. Your phone is on the table. I text you. My name appears on the screen. If it doesn't have a heart, how will people know that you love me?"

"Brush your teeth," James said again.