James took another shot. “I work in a brewery warehouse. I … ugm… move things around all day, so I guess it’s good exercise. It’s pretty close by, and the pay is alright. Sometimes I get to bring free beer home when there’s a packaging issue. And I’m also studying to become a social worker.” He nodded, gazing down at his empty glass. 

Connor leaned forward and perched his chin on the heel of his hand. “Oh, that’s so interesting,” he said, biting his lip and smiling. It really wasn’t, but James was super hot, and maybe flirting with a hot guy would soothe his recently bruised ego, if not his equally bruised ass.

“It’s really not,” Victor echoed Connor’s thought in a dry voice. 

The timing made Connor spit-take the shot he was sipping. Victor’s smile turned into a short laugh and he patted Connor on the back. “Beverages are difficult, eh?”

Connor snorted. “Is that a Canadian joke, you filthy American?” He gave Victor a hard stare. Victor had dark gray eyes like a stormcloud heavy with rain.

“If I explain the joke, then it’s not funny anymore.” Victor shrugged and grabbed the vodka bottle by the neck. 

Connor blinked away some of his drowsiness. They’d been at this for a while now and they were mostly all drunk, but Victor seemed to be holding his alcohol quite well. 

“Wasn’t funny to start with, so you’re safe,” Connor shot back with a smirk– he liked Victor’s playful venom. Not a lot of people could keep up with Connor’s dark humor and cutting comments.

“It amuses me, that’s all that matters.” Vic shrugged. Then, with a taunting smile, “Sorry.” 

“Sorry, huh?” Connor gave Victor a hard look, that was definitely another Canadian jab. 

“I get it!” Ollie draped his arm around Connor.  “It’s because Canadians always apologize!” He chirped, nodding happily. 

“You mean like he did just now? James leaned his head against the couch. 

Connor caught Victor’s gaze and Victor rolled his eyes slightly to the ceiling as if to indicate the others were too drunk to keep up. Connor grinned at him. He chewed his lip, thinking of a comeback. How far can I push him?  He wondered.

Just then Freckle crawled into Connor’s lap and all of Victor’s goodwill evaporated. His expression changed from relaxed and amused, to that of someone who had suffered a great offense. 

Victor patted his lap with the tips of his long fingers. “Freckle, come here,” he said, yet the cat refused to move. Instead, he began making biscuits on Connor’s thighs. Victor’s frown deepened. He glared at Connor, “Is this how you’re going to be? You’re going to come into my home and steal the love of my life?” 

James let out a long, distressed grunt. “No.” He shook his head aggressively.  “I can’t handle any more Freckle talk.” He pulled himself to his feet, struggling to steady himself. “I’m going to sleep. Ollie?”

“Nah.” Ollie’s bleary eyes snapped on James. “I’ll hang around a bit more, ok?” He flashed a big smile. 

Connor put on a mock-serious face for Victor. “Yes,” he said, “this was my plot all along. I’m here to seduce your cat. Sorry, you had to find out like this. Our beautiful friendship was all a sham.” 

“You’re shameless,” Victor snarled. It was difficult to tell if he was joking or not, but the lack of malice in his voice probably meant he wasn’t actually upset. Then again, Victor’s general vibe seemed calm and a bit cold. 

“You can’t come between us.” Connor dragged Freckle up from his lap and clutched him like a baby. “Our love is pure.” Freckle mewed content agreement.

Victor inhaled slowly through his nose. “I trusted you.” He extended his hands, trying to coerce Freckle into coming to him. Freckle blinked at him blankly.

Victor pursed his lips, and Ollie rolled into his lap. “Don’t be upset. Freckle loves you! I can’t handle drama right now. I can’t even… remember how many Ls are in my name.” He dropped dramatically into Victor’s lap. “You can pet me instead, pretty please and thank you.”  

Victor looked down at Ollie and his expression softened. He ran his hand over Ollie’s head, then wrapped one of his curls around his finger. “It’s not the same,” he said. “And to think that I spend so much money on his premium food. He’ll just have to live off of the stuff James picks. The bad, cheap, dry stuff.” Victor glared at Freckle. “You pretentious, round traitor.”  

Ollie yawned and closed his eyes, starting to drift to sleep. “I’m so tired. If we’re just fighting about the cat I’m going to bed.” 

“Wait,” Connor said, slightly nervous, “are we fighting about the cat for real? I can’t tell. I’m drunk.”

“Nobody knows!” Ollie had to crawl up Victor to stand. “I’m off to bed though, don’t stay up too late!” 

“Why?” Victor called after him. “I don’t do anything all day anyway.” His eyes were still glued to the cat. He shook his head and closed his eyes, putting the Freckle issue away. “Anyway, good night, Ollie.” 

“Byeeee!” Connor drawled. 

And just like that, they were alone. 

Victor rubbed his eyes. “I think I’m a little drunk.” He puffed a laugh through his nose. “Actually, I think I’m very drunk. I can’t remember the last time I was this drunk.”

“Kind of a lightweight, for such a big guy, eh?” Connor clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes going wide.
His cheeks burned. 

Victor smiled. It was soft and kind and it reached his eyes. Then he started chuckling. Soon, it turned into a loud, smooth, deep laugh. It was an unexpected sound from such a restrained person and somehow felt satisfying to hear. Connor couldn’t help but join in. Moments later both of them were roaring at nothing on the floor. 

This is fun. 

Tonight had nothing to do with Inho, and nothing to do with Connor's life, and it was the exact distraction he needed. Connor liked it.

He liked it a lot.