Laughter filled the apartment. 

James woke up groggy and confused. Laughter? At five in the morning? He dragged his hands over his face, his body aching from working too much, his head aching from drinking like an idiot. 

It was excruciatingly hard to abandon the warmth of Ollie’s embrace. James kissed his forehead and forced himself to get out of bed. Now that he was awake, going back to sleep would be impossible. He didn’t even have one foot on the floor when he decided that his day was going to suck. He blamed Connor and his vodka for this shitty weekend.

James walked out of his bedroom into the living room and squinted at the painfully bright TV. Of course, it had to be a gory movie. Victor loved horror movies and gross murder shows, not because he found it scary, but because they amused him. This time, however, it wasn’t only Victor finding entertainment in people getting dismembered. Connor was there too. The living room couch, which was also a pull-out bed, was extended, and the pair was splayed casually across a pile of pillows, chip bags, and empty pizza boxes. They were giggling together at some ridiculously over-the-top scene.

James pinched the bridge of his nose. Why was Connor still here? Why was Victor laughing so much? It was unusual. An odd feeling he couldn’t name unfurled in his belly.  “Hi.” His voice was thick with sleep and residual alcohol from the game.

Connor and Victor turned and waved creepily in unison. “Are you ok?” Victor asked, vestiges of his amusement seeping through. 

James’ venom dissipated. Warmth poured through him and he looked at Victor’s sleepy face. “I’m tired,” James said, rubbing his eyes. 

“Sorry if we woke you.” Victor smiled. “I didn’t realize we were being loud.” 

If Connor weren’t there, James would’ve kissed him. He would’ve hugged him tightly against his chest and caressed his head. He would've run his fingers through his hair. They lived together but work and school made having quality time together almost impossible. 

“It’s fine,” James said. He wanted to call Victor love, sweetheart, babe. The words were dancing on the tip of his tongue and he had to swallow them and hope not to choke. “I’m going to make some breakfast. You in?” 

“I thought you couldn’t cook?” Connor asked a little too eagerly, “Do you need some help?” 

“I can make some basic things,” James answered, rolling his eyes. “Eggs. I can make eggs and toast.” 

Victor yawned. “No, I had pizza, and I’m not a breakfast person.” He stretched his head to the side until he heard a couple of pops. “Thanks though.” 

James moved into the kitchen and pulled out what he needed from the fridge. Screams from the movie and Connor and Vic’s low chit chat filled the apartment. It sounded like bickering, some sort of odd, non-confrontational argument that was funny only for the two of them. James didn’t get it. 

Ollie appeared soon after, looking as exhausted as James felt.  Lately, he’d been coming home from school without his usual bounce. James added to his mental list to ask him how things were going. It was unfortunately a very long list. Three years out of boarding school, and somehow he still always felt like he was on the edge slipping under the weight of his responsibilities– drowning in work, and chores, and money worries, cooking, working out, a sleep schedule. Why was everything so damn much?

Ollie hugged James from behind and rested his head between his shoulder blades. “Feed me,” he chirped like a morning bird.

James nodded, feeling a little better now that he was receiving some love. He wondered if Connor was looking at them. “Do you want eggs?” 

“Eggs are good.” Ollie sighed longingly. “So good.” He snuggled in one more time, bit James’ arm gently, then went to sit at the kitchen table so he could start telling James about the weird dream he had. Ollie’s dreams were never normal, or easy to follow. This time it was about him as a painting, living his life on a wall in a medieval castle, watching some guy eat bread. Ollie was sure that James was also a painting there. He was very adamant that they were both cute pieces of art. The complicated part came when Oliver attempted to describe the coup that some guy with a cane was planning against some other guy with a cape. There was also a romance developing, but Ollie couldn’t remember who those people were. 

After James finished cooking and Ollie was done recounting his dream, Ollie called the others over. Connor sat at the table while Victor poured his usual cup of black coffee into one of Ollie’s bright yellow mugs. 

Ollie took a bite of toast. “We should do something together today!” 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” James stopped himself from adding a cute pet name at the end of his sentence and resisted the urge to glare at Connor. He hated having to hide the nature of their relationship. He didn’t want to. If it were up to him, he would’ve told the entire world. He was so proud of both his boyfriends and everyone else who disagreed was free to go burn in a pit of fire. 

But Victor was a skeptic and a pessimist. He was adamant that they had to keep it low profile. 

It bothered James. He understood why they were doing it, of course. He knew the reason– he’d lived through it. His own parents had cut him off for not being straight, but still, it irked him. 

“I’m not sorry.” Ollie picked up an egg and slapped it sunny side down over his toast. “Important topics outweigh the contents of my mouth.” James watched the yolk drip on the plate. “So, Brunch, movies, both? Both?!” His eyes went big. “Oh, let’s go to that bubble tea place that has dog-shaped cakes. I’m trying to befriend the waiter.” 

“Yeah, I’m down for that.” James nodded, looking over at Victor, anticipating a no from him. 

Victor had been in one of his dark moods for a few weeks now. He had been down, sleeping a lot, and completely unmotivated to go out. James wondered if he was taking his meds. 

“I’m sorry,” Victor answered as James expected.  “I’m not feeling up to it. Maybe next time?” There was a tinge of guilt in his voice.  

James was upset. The weird feeling uncoiled inside him again. Jealousy? Was he jealous? That had to be it. But there was no reason to be jealous. Connor was just a friendly neighbor, and if anything he should be glad Vic was talking to another human for once. He wanted his boyfriend to be happy. 

James made a mental note to talk about this with his therapist. There was no way he was going to allow himself to morph into a caricature of a boyfriend, a jealous, insecure, toxic asshole. His abandonment issues were his own and throwing them onto anyone else was unfair. 

But still… Victor was hanging out with Connor, who he hardly knew, but he refused to go out with his own boyfriends? We barely spend alone time together, James wanted to say. It hurts me that you’re avoiding us. 

“All right,” James said. “Maybe next time.”