When Tommy saw Julian standing by the door, his face twisted in anger.
He couldn't believe Julian could joke about something so serious—about his health like that.
Without a word, Tommy rushed forward and shoved Julian hard into a corner.
Oliver froze, eyes wide. He hadn't expected this.
Then it clicked. He remembered Julian mentioning before that they were neighbors.
"Oh," Oliver muttered under his breath, a mix of surprise and understanding.
Julian steadied himself, adjusting his glasses, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. He didn't push back, but his eyes met Tommy's with a quiet defiance.
Tommy's eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to Julian. "I still don't get why you even came," he said, shaking his head. "With your health, man, you're supposed to be at home resting. Not here, partying like everything's normal."
Julian crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the wall. "Oh, so now you're my doctor?" he said with a smirk. "I didn't realize you had a degree in telling people what to do."
Tommy scowled. "Don't get smart with me. I know what I'm talking about! You could've gotten sick—"
"Or maybe I don't want to sit at home like a boring old man!" Julian interrupted, raising his voice just enough to annoy Tommy. "Why do you always have to stick your nose into my business anyway?"
Tommy stepped forward, pointing a finger. "Because I care! Someone has to make sure you don't do stupid things!"
Julian rolled his eyes dramatically. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. Captain Overprotective. You want a medal or something?"
Tommy huffed, running a hand through his hair. "I swear… one day, your attitude is going to get you in trouble!"
Julian laughed, a short, annoyed chuckle. "And one day, you'll learn to mind your own business!"
They argued back and forth for a few more minutes, voices rising and falling, the words punctuated by sharp gestures and playful jabs.
From across the room, Oliver sat beside Liam, watching the whole thing quietly. He couldn't help but smirk a little at the scene. Liam's friends were dancing and laughing, oblivious to the small argument, while Liam himself kept his eyes on Oliver, probably noticing the faint smile tugging at his lips.
Finally, Julian let out a long sigh. "Fine. Enough drama. Let's just… go join the others."
Tommy muttered under his breath but nodded. "Yeah… whatever."
And with that, the two boys moved toward the parlor, still shooting small jabs at each other, while Oliver stayed put, leaning slightly into Liam's side, watching with quiet amusement.
Oliver sat stiffly, trying to make himself small. The smoke, the heavy music, and the clinking of bottles made him uncomfortable. He had never experienced this kind of life before. Every laugh, every shout felt too loud, too chaotic.
He shifted slightly when Julian joined him, sliding onto the bench beside him. Liam was on his right, silent as ever, and Julian on his left, giving him a quiet sense of relief. Just having someone familiar nearby calmed him a little.
A few minutes later, Paul, one of Liam's friends, leaned toward Julian with a cigarette. "Want one?" he asked casually.
Julian quickly shook his head, smiling faintly. "No, thanks," he said.
The others, except for Tommy—who was still glaring at Julian—chimed in.
"Wow, you're a saint, man!"
"Who does that these days?"
"Respect!"
Oliver watched them, half-amused, half-nervous. Then, one of the friends offered another cigarette—this time to Oliver. He blinked, confused. "Me?"
"Yeah, why not?" the friend said. Then, just as quickly, they recoiled. "Wait… you're… oh, right. You're still a small boy. Forget it."
Oliver felt his dignity as a young man trampled. His face flushed. He hated being treated like a child in front of everyone.
"I… I've smoked countless times before," he said quickly, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's nothing."
Liam's gaze was on him the entire time. He could tell Oliver was lying—every tense movement, every forced laugh gave it away.
But Liam didn't want to expose him, didn't want to embarrass him. So he stayed quiet, his eyes soft but protective, a silent reassurance that he had Oliver's back no matter what.
Oliver swallowed, straightened his back slightly, and tried to act like he belonged, even if the room around him felt too wild, too fast, too different from everything he knew.
The music thumped in the background, the smoke curling lazily through the room. Oliver's hands fidgeted nervously on his lap, staring at Liam's friends who had teased him earlier.
Then, on impulse, he picked up one of the cigarettes that had been offered earlier. He held it clumsily between his fingers, then, without thinking, shoved it into his mouth. His fingers trembled as he fumbled with the lighter, unsure which way to flip it open.
Julian glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "Uh… Oliver, maybe—"
"I got this," Oliver muttered quickly, though his voice betrayed his nerves.
Before he could even get the lighter lit, Liam leaned forward. In one swift, fluid motion, he plucked the cigarette from Oliver's lips—and slid it into his own.
Oliver's eyes went wide. "L-Liam!" he gasped, a blush creeping across his cheeks.
Liam held the cigarette lightly between his fingers, just close enough that their faces were almost touching. He leaned slightly toward Oliver, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Relax," he murmured softly, "I've got it."
Oliver's heart thudded so loudly he was sure everyone could hear it. His breath hitched, and he could feel the warmth of Liam's presence brushing against him, the faint scent of his cologne making him dizzy.
Paul and a few of the others turned to look, a little startled. "Whoa… that was… bold," he said, shrugging.
But nobody pressed the issue further. They seemed to sense that this wasn't ordinary teasing—they just glanced, shrugged, and returned to their drinks and dancing.
Oliver stared at Liam, feeling both embarrassed and flustered, unsure how to react. His lips still tingled where the cigarette had been, and the closeness of Liam's body made him hyper-aware of every small movement.
Liam flicked open the lighter, just for show, and leaned back slightly, eyes never leaving Oliver's. "See?" he said quietly, smoke curling around his face. "Nothing to worry about."
Oliver felt a flutter in his chest. "Y-You didn't have to…" he said softly, voice barely audible over the music.
Liam smirked, leaning just a little closer. "I know," he murmured, "but I wanted to."
Oliver's fingers twitched on his lap. He wanted to say something, anything, but words stuck in his throat. Instead, he just looked up at Liam, his lips parting slightly, his cheeks burning.
Julian, sitting on the other side, glanced between them, a faint smile on his face. "You two are… something else," he said lightly, joking.
Oliver's blush deepened. He could only glance away, fumbling with his hands, while Liam's eyes followed him, patient, teasing, and full of something he couldn't quite name.
For the first time that night, Oliver forgot about the smoke, the music, and even the chaos of Liam's friends. All he could focus on was the warmth radiating from Liam beside him, the closeness of their bodies, and the small, thrilling way Liam had taken over something he couldn't do.
And in that tiny moment, Oliver felt a connection he couldn't explain—one that had nothing to do with the party around them and everything to do with Liam...