That weekend it rained like the world was ending. James spent most of his time online browsing with Oliver right next to him. They were both bored, but not bored enough to start reading their assigned poetry. Victor was making annotations in his book.

Nobody had said anything for at least a half an hour. Someone had put on music. It was calm.

James kept glancing over at Victor. Victor, lying on his back, biting the end of his pen, frowning at the yellowed pages of his novel. He could recognize that feeling now, the lust that burned in it.

He kept turning the thought of a crush in his mind, dissecting it from all possible angles. There was no way he was feeling some unrequited love. He didn’t believe in that sort of thing. He believed in commitment. In relationships, even if it sounded corny. And without a doubt he loved Oliver.

“Ok, I cave.” Oliver signed, pushing his foot into James' side. “Let’s watch something. Anything. I’ll even agree to one of Victor’s monstrosities. Please. Please, my brain is deteriorating. It’s dying, James.”

James laughed and leaned in to kiss him.

He loved Oliver and his freckles. Oliver and his pouty, rounded lips. Oliver and his big, green eyes.

“Fine.” James agreed, their faces inches away from each other. “We can watch whatever you want.”

“I like cute movies where people fall in love,” he said, “You like movies where things explode and Victor - yes you, don’t look at me like that - Victor likes weird-ass stuff. James, he traumatized me.”

“Poor you,” Victor said.

“Poor baby,” James kissed his forehead. “We can watch a stupid romance if you want.”

“Oh, thank god, I can’t handle people getting their limbs torn off anymore.”

“You just need practice.” Victor didn’t look up from his book.

“What, you’re offering? I might be persuaded into it if you’re the one buying snacks.

“I’ve been buying them, Morales, and someone’s been eating them.”

James shrugged. Oliver shrugged. They weren’t going to admit to anything. At least Victor’s tower of Coke cans was still intact, and he started building another one next to it.

“That’s my condition,” Oliver said.

“Not today. I’m finishing up my readings.”

“Fine. Gross romance it is!” He rolled over James and grabbed the laptop from under the bed. After the first fifteen minutes, Victor closed his book and sighed.

“I can’t focus with that in the background. It sounds cheesy.”

“It is. You should watch it with us," James said.

“I’m… fine. No. I’m going to the library.”

James waited for a few moments after Victor left and turned his face towards Oliver. “Did he just?”

“He did! He told us where he’s going! Oh, we’re making progress. He’s gonna call us friends in no time.”

Friends, James thought. What an unfitting word. Oliver was already friends with Victor, they were already comfortable around each other. Oliver could touch Victor and not get the death stare. He didn’t want to be friends. He wanted to bite his neck and pull his hair. He wanted things that were not suitable for work, but quite normal for an almost nineteen-year-old with an overhyped libido. It was lust and that was all.

He was far more comfortable with this idea. Finding other people hot wasn’t as awful as falling for them. He could manage that. He could be fine with that.

He spent the day in bed with Oliver. Movies, snacks, the occasional mention of homework. None of them was in the mood to actually do it.

Oliver pushed his hand up his shirt and rested it on his stomach. James waited, he knew a question was coming. He could see the mischief in his eyes.

“We never had that talk,” Oliver said.

“We never did.” James smiled and Oliver moved even closer to him. He felt his body weight right on top of him. Oliver sat right on his lap and grabbed him by the pecks. James flexed without being asked to.

“And do you think we can, maybe, do it now?”

“Talk?” James held onto Olivers’ thighs. He was already hard.

“No.” Oliver grinned. “No. I don’t think we need to talk if you’re ok with it. I feel like we can just do it.”

“Really?”

“Victor’s not here. I’m sure he won’t be coming back for hours. He’s probably stuck in a book. So?”

James didn’t need time to ponder. He knew the answer and the answer was stuck in his dry throat.

“Yes.” He finally said. “Of course it’s a fucking yes.”