The Victorious [BxBxB] ✓

It's Not A Confrontation

James walked outside with Victor, holding his hand. They crossed the street towards a nearby cafe. James thought it could be a good spot for them to sit down and talk about what just happened.

Victor stopped near the cafe's entrance, took out his pack of cigars, and his cheap yellow lighter, then struggled to make the damn thing work. It could've been the cheap lighter refusing to give a little flame; it could've been Victor's tremblings hands.

"What's wrong?" The word love danced on the tip of James' tongue.

"Not now, just -" Victor took a deep breath it "- give me a second." Then he stopped, and his eyes widened. "Oh no, we left without Ollie, we left Ollie, I'm horrible. We have to go back for Ollie."

Panic was rising with each word. James grabbed his shoulders firmly.

"It's ok; I'll text him to let him know we're here. Ollie's fine, he's with Elena. Ok? Did you hear me?" James touched Victor's face, turning it towards him. He was frantic in a way that anticipated a meltdown.

"What?" Victor finally looked at him in the eye and stopped fidgeting.

"Ollie is fine. You're also fine," he said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "Do you want some tea? Hot cocoa? Water?"

Victor glanced around and moved a little closer to James, forcing all his instincts to stay on high alert. James wrapped an arm around him, confused by what was happening. He had a hunch, an idea, but he didn't want to let it fully form in his mind.

Victor took out his inhaler. He struggled for a few moments to take the cap off.

"Vic, I'm trying not to freak out, but I'm you know, I'm kinda freaking out."

"I'm sorry." Victor used his inhaler, shoved it back in his pocket, then somehow ended with another cigarette between his lips. "I'm sorry."

"Let's go inside, ok?"

"I just need a smoke." Victor nodded, his eyes glued on a random stop on the pavement. "Just one."

"I thought I saw you." It was a man's voice, the type where you could hear the smirk before seeing it.

Victor tried moving away, but his body smashed into James'. He dropped his smoke on the ground and cursed.

James didn't need any more incentives about what was happening, who the man was, or why Victor was so jumpy. He moved between the man and his boyfriend. Victor cursed again.

"That's no language for a young man," the stranger said. James knew who he was; monsters don't tend to look like monsters. Sometimes they're tall, dark-haired men dressed in expensive clothes with perfect smiles stuck on their faces.

This time it was just that.

"He can talk however he wants," James said, feeling Victor's grip tighten on his jacket. It only made him warier of the man, more protective of Vic.

"Adorable. Victor, aren't you going to make introductions?" The man tilted his head slightly to a side, pretending that James wasn't blocking his view of Victor.

"No," James cut in. "I can introduce myself if I want to." And he didn't want to, so he didn't.

"Come here, Victor," he said, pointing at the ground in front of him, " I need to talk to you. You know it's not nice to avoid my calls."

"No." James' anger was something new, something he didn't recognize. It wasn't bubbling, boiling, fury. It was freezing murderous intent.

"Victor." The man's voice was stern, and Victor moved from behind James. He walked next to him, then lifted his head to match his gaze.

"What do you want?" Victor asked; his posture was stiff, tense, like a guitar string on the verge of snapping.

James stepped next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Victor wasn't alone in this, and he needed to know.

"Did you get a boyfriend now?" the man asked, lifting his eyes from Victor to look at James. He didn't answer the questions; instead, he flashed a grin. "How cute, but I was expecting you to pick something more refined than a thug."

"He's not a thug," Victor said, his voice was cold and even.

"I beg to differ, boy. I can see, can't I?" The man tapped Victor's cheek.

"Let's go," James said, trying to pull Vic away. The cafe was only a few steps away, and maybe if they got inside, the chances of this escalating into a fight would die down. James wasn't afraid of a fight; he gladly would've accepted the possibility of beating the crap out of this man. He was scared of how much he wanted to murder him.

The man kept smiling. He reached forward and grabbed Victor by his chin. "Try answering your phone more often, ignoring people is rude."

"I'll see what I can do," Victor answered.

James slapped his arm away and tugged Victor behind him. "I'll break it off if you do that again." He meant every word and more.

"I'll see you around," the man said, making a vague waving gesture with his hand. He continued to ignore James' presence as if he was nothing but an annoying fly buzzing in his ear, an inconsequential young man.

"No, you won't!" James called out as he was leaving.

Victor heaved and tried crouching, but James grabbed his arm and pulled him into a hug.

"It's ok," James said. "You're ok, listen, you're ok."

"Yeah." Victor coughed. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry, why? No, you don't have to be sorry for anything." James touched the back of his neck; it was damp with sweat.

"I didn't mean to drag you into this mess. I'm sorry. I-I feel like a burden now."

"No." James hugged him tighter. "That's the most ridiculous thing you've said in your life. I - " James had to stop himself from finishing that sentence. I love you, wasn't the appropriate thing to say to Victor, someone who still didn't even say I like you yet. James kissed the side of his head. "I'll shove my boot down his throat if I need to, don't worry."

"It's always violence with you," Victor muttered. He sounded calm, but he was clenching to his jacket like a drowning man.  

Author's note<3: 

You guessed it! It was HIM.

Vic will be ok, James is there to give him love and support. But this ain't over! Remember this wasn't a confrontation! As always, please consider commenting and voting, validate me, and make my heart big and fat. It's not a health risk, I promise.