The Victorious [BxBxB] ✓

Sorrows and Dates

James shoved him hard. Maybe too hard. The last time he had pushed someone like that, it ended up in a fistfight.

"Ge off of your high horse! I'm not interested." He did his best not to yell.

Victor looked alarmed. For a second. He definitely didn't like signs of violence aimed at him. The way feelings flashed on his face was concerning to James. "Are you going to punch me, tough guy? Come on." Victor said, taking a step forward. "Do it. Punch my lights out. Right here." He traced his finger over his jaw, deliberately slow.

"I'm not going to hit you," James said. He wanted to kick him in the throat. "Go to bed."

Victor kept smiling. James came to learn that smile, the way it didn't really curved upwards.

"Why?"

"Victor," James took a deep breath, "Victor, I need you to calm down."

"Calm? I'm calm." He sounded calm, and that told James that, in fact, he wasn't.

Victor approached him again. James' eyes fell to his hands, instinctively. He didn't want to hurt Victor, but he sure as hell could incapacitate him if needed.

Victor didn't even raise a fist. He didn't strike him as violent either, even if tension was an electric current around his whole body. If anything, Victor seemed to be crushed under his own anger.

"Ok," James said. "Then take a step back. I can smell your breath."

Victor rubbed his face and sighed. He shook his head and walked into the bathroom.

James relaxed his shoulders. Of all people, he had to get stuck with him. At least he had Oliver to distract him.

No, it was rude to think of Oliver as a distraction. Oliver was too sweet and nice to be just a distraction. He liked him. A lot more than he had expected.

And he was going to hang out with him Saturday. All damn day. It was something fun to look forward to, and it made Victor's presence less bitter.

"I like this bus," James said, wrapping his arm around Oliver. Oliver leaned in. He looked great in clothes that were not that burgundy uniform. He loved his jeans and mustard sweater.

"It's just a bus." Oliver leaned into him. "We haven't planned our date."

"Ah, pft. We don't need to make a plan. We're going to improvise lunch. And then be spontaneous with dessert. Then, maybe, if we're in the mood, we can go to the park, watch a movie..."

"Get movie snacks, eat ice cream, and I've always wanted to share a milkshake with someone."

"Oh my god, you want to share food?"

"Is it too wild for you, Brooks?"

"I don't know, Morales, it sounds quite thrilling. I might be up for it."

"I mean, can you imagine? Using two straws in the same glass?"

"Unbelievable, what will the neighbors say?" James kissed him on the forehead. Being with Oliver was a much-deserved break.

The fact that Oliver didn't like cheesecake came as a surprise. He wasn't sure if he could ever be the same after this.

The café was something James would never pick, on his own. It had a French name he couldn't pronounce, the walls were pastel, and all the chairs were pink and frilly. He didn't mind sitting on a girly chair, but he couldn't help but feel amused. He was a stark contrast against the décor. Oliver dragged his chair closer to the table and reached to take his hand.