James would've been more than willing to get down and dirty if Oliver was just some guy. But he wasn't. It was Oliver. His Oliver. Oliver, with his round, pouty lips and big eyes. And he cared about him.

"Well," James started, trying to figure out what the best response is. "Whenever you feel comfortable. And I'm sure we'll have to get rid of sir Arlington."

"I don't mind him." Oliver shrugged. "I'm not shy, and besides, he sleeps like a comatose patient." He kissed him on the cheek. "We'll have to think about it."

James chuckled. "Oh trust me, I'm going to keep thinking about it."

They waited for Victor to wake up all morning.

For someone who looked perpetually tired, Victor sure slept a lot when left to his own devices. It was almost noon, and he was still merged with his mattress, his cheek mushed into his pillow.

Oliver was crouching next to him, checking his breathing. "We have to catch the bus, or we'll have to wait for another hour and a half," he said. "I thought he'd be up by now."

James walked next to Victor's bed and rolled him on his back. Just like a dead body. He leaned over and covered his nose and mouth. One beat, nothing. Two beats, nothing. James thought he was going to suffocate. Then Victor stirred and opened his eyes. James pulled his hand back.

"What's wrong with you?" He coughed. He sounded too numbed by sleep to be angry. Oliver beamed with happiness and hugged Victor's head to his chest.

"Aww, your hair's all up." Oliver chuckled. Victor didn't pull away; he never pulled away from Oliver. It was always from James. It irked him so much sometimes he thought he might get an ulcer from it.

"Go get dressed, sleeping beauty," James said. "We're not missing the bus because of you."

"What bus?" Victor yawned, his cheek against Oliver's chest. James wanted to shake him, but his eyes were so unfocused he decided against it.

"We're going to town," Oliver said, this time flattening Victor's hair, as gently as he could. Again, Victor didn't pull away.

"Ah." He looked at Oliver, then at James, then back at Oliver. "I still don't think this is a good idea."

"It's only because you want to go back to sleep." Oliver pouted just a bit and took his hands. "Please, please, please, come! Please!"

Victor sighed and got out of bed. "Fine, great. I'm going to third wheel with the over-affectionate couple."

"Do it for the free lunch." James watched him pick some clothes from the closet before walking into the bathroom.

Oliver hugged James. "Are you upset?" He asked, kissing his neck. "You look upset."

"No, Ollie." He hugged him back. "I just hope I don't end up in a fight with your new best friend."

"My new best friend?" Oliver looked up. James wanted to kiss every freckle on his face.

"Victor."

"Don't be jealous," Oliver said, cupping his face.

"I'm not jealous." He was very much so. "He's just not my favorite person and… also… you know…" He leaned down towards him so he could whisper. "I don't know how to talk to him. And it's gotten even worse after… you know."

"I know," he said, nodding, "I do, but try? Please?"

"I am, sweetheart, I am." He kissed his forehead. "Look at us, being an over-affectionate couple." He smiled.

Victor was surprisingly quick. James had to tell himself not to look too closely, he had a boyfriend, and Victor was still a dick.

But he was an asshole dressed in black pants, a gray shirt, and what seemed like a costly camel colored trench coat. You'd have to be blind and blindfolded to say he didn't look good.

"Ok, we can go," he said, with the most unimpressed expression James had ever seen.

Throughout the bus ride, Oliver did this best to make Victor laugh. James knew he had good intentions, and he even found himself hoping to hear Victor laugh again. But Victor only smiled, and it wasn't even a full smile.

The dynamic felt a little off. Victor was not acting weird or out of character. At least not to James. He did what he had been doing ever since James moved in. He ignored him. Victor looked like he was on the brink of ignoring Oliver too, but Oliver was overhyped, happy, and he kept engaging. For some reason, Victor didn't snap at Oliver the same way he snapped at him. He was going to get more than an ulcer. He was going to cause himself an aneurism.

Once they reached the town, Victor stopped to buy a pack of cigars. He took one out and held it between his teeth while searching for a lighter.

"I still didn't find my pack of smokes," he said, looking straight at James.

"You and that fucking pack of smokes," James said, feeling exasperation rising in him. "What's so damn special about them? You got another one anyway."

Victor looked at him like he was trying to shove a square block into a round cutout. He took out the cigar from his mouth and licked his perpetually dry lips.

"You're not the brightest little Christmas light, are you?" Victor said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Victor sighed. "It's weed," he said. "That's what I had in the pack. Weed. And I'm pretty sure someone – you – took it."

"Oh." James wanted to burst into laughter.

"Oh," Victor repeated and took out a cheap bright yellow lighter from his pocket. "Oh, indeed."

"I didn't, so drop it."

Oliver was watching Victor like a cat. Once the cigar was lit, he reached out and took it right out of his mouth.

"I don't think this is a good idea," he said, holding it between his forefinger and thumb. "Please don't smoke, you're going to die!"

Victor closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. James was prepared for him to say something snappy.

"Fine. Let's just go to lunch." He shoved the pack in his pocket.

"If I would've done that, you would've socked me in the face." James felt compelled to say.

"I would've kneed you in the balls," Victor responded.

"It's like you've been married for ten years." Oliver walked between them and took both of their arms. "Old hags. That's how you talk. Like old, angry hags."

They took a table next to the window. Oliver sat next to James and kissed him on the cheek. James thought that was his way of telling him that he's not being ignored.

"Are you dating anyone, Victor?" Oliver asked once they had the chance to place their orders.

Victor raised an eyebrow. "Why do you care?"

"I don't know." Oliver shrugged. "I'm just nosey and care way too much about what people do."

"No, I'm not dating," Victor answered.

Oliver leaned over the table, his big eyes getting bigger. James wanted to pull him back into his seat and tell him to stop harassing people. Then he remembered it's Victor, and he didn't mind letting Victor suffer through some questions.

"Ok, ok." Oliver nodded. "But do you like anyone?"

"I feel like I'm in middle school again." Victor frowned. "What's happening? Are you trying to set me up?"

"No! I'm just curious! Please, you have to like someone."

"Nah, I really don't have to." Victor shook his head.

Oliver sighed and dropped back on his chair.

"I think he's trying to find out if you're gay," James said, rubbing the back of Oliver's head. Oliver leaned into the touch like a little pup.

"If I'm gay?" Victor repeated. "I don't know." He shrugged and picked up the small spoon that came with his coffee. He was twisting the handle between his fingers, watching the silver catch the afternoon light.

James felt Oliver's energy tremble in his body. "Oh! Oooooh!"

Victor might've felt it too. He leaned back on his chair, frowning. James almost laughed.

"Well, I'm gay," Oliver said. "Very gay."

"I've been dying to know." Victor nodded.

"I'm sorry," Oliver said. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"Why would I feel uncomfortable when I'm being interrogated about my sexuality?"

Oliver pouted. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I wasn't trying to make you feel bad."

Victor sighed. "Ok. Do you have any other hobbies besides guys and asking people about guys?"

"That's mean," Oliver said. "And I can't tell when you're sarcastic or not."

Victor's expression didn't change. "It's a challenge for many." He added an insane amount of sugar in his coffee. James only started counting when he thought it was too much and reached six.

"Ok, fine." Oliver smiled again. "At least tell me if you ever had a crush on someone from school."

Victor puffed air through his nose, which was as closes as he came to a laugh since they left the campus.

"What?" James asked. "You think you're too good for people at school?" He was sure that his words sounded more abrasive than he meant them to.

Victor smiled. "You do enjoy putting words in my mouth, don't you?" James thought there was an innuendo there, somewhere.

"Every time you two talk, it feels like you're going to fight or kiss." Oliver sighed and rested his head on James' shoulder. "You should kiss."

"Knock it off, Oliver," James said, giving him a light tap on the forehead. Victor was unfazed, and for some odd reason, this bothered James too. He would've even taken an "eww, no way I'm kissing him" over his blatant lack of interest.

The waiter came with their food, and Victor started spinning his pasta around his fork.

"Don't worry, he's not my type," Victor said.

"You refuse to tell me what your type is." Oliver pouted.

Victor picked out a mushroom and looked at it with too much attention. For someone who eats stale chips and drinks coke on the daily, he sure was a picky eater.

"My type? Well, if you're so interested, I don't care about people in that way, if they're strangers," he said, "And I don't care about gender."

Oliver slapped his hand on the table, startling everyone.

"Pansexual." 

"Great." Victor sighed. "Are you content now?"

Oliver smiled brightly and nodded with such enthusiasm James wanted to kiss him. He wrapped his arm around him instead, since it seemed more appropriate for the location. Victor asked for another soda.

"Your teeth will rot," James said, prompting Victor to smile widely. His teeth were perfectly white and straight.

"You think so?" Victor asked. "I get them cleaned every six months."

"And yet you drink and smoke."

"As long as I look good on the outside, I don't care what's rotting inside." He shrugged. "Isn't that how the world works?"

James didn't know how to answer that.

"Ugh, my mom did her best to convince me to get braces, and I kept refusing. Your teeth are so nice." Oliver said. "And mine are crooked."

"Your teeth are adorable," James said, fully meaning it. It made his heart ache every time Oliver smiled, and he didn't know how to handle it.

"You're fine," Victor said. "And you can always get braces if it bothers you."

Was that… Victor being nice? It confused James to the point that he was frowning and squinting.

"I don't want to get to college with braces," Oliver said.

"Why not? You can pick out the rubber bands' color. I think it'd suit you."

James forgot he had to eat. So Victor was capable of being a decent human being. Granted, he did help them with their literature homework, but showing off how good you are at interpreting a text wasn't the same as giving a compliment. At the same time, James noticed how much more Victor was willing to engage in conversation if it wasn't about himself.

Oliver smiled again. "Aw, you think so?"

Victor nodded.

"Well… if you want that…" James said. He was genuinely infatuated with Oliver's slightly crooked teeth.

"I'll think about it, but I'm not sure I'm ready for that sort of commitment." 

Victor ordered another soda, and James got more food. The portion was too small for his liking.

"We should go for dessert someplace else," Oliver said. "I know a very cute café; you'll love it."

"Yeah, whatever you want." James was willing to walk upside down if that meant making Oliver happy. 

Victor agreed, out of all of them, he seemed the one with the biggest sweet tooth, which didn't quite match with his overall black-coffee personality. Maybe one needed to be accustomed to black-coffee to be able to pick out the subtle, different flavors. 

Maybe Victor was an acquired taste too. This realization left a weird feeling in James.