Asher couldn't stop staring at Connor staring at Oliver on the couch opposite them.

"It's bizarre. Like an asshole cat turning into a puppy." Oliver was typing away on his laptop while Connor was curled on the couch next to him, glancing over every few seconds to "check on his progress".

Michaela gave him an offended look. "Don't compare him to a cat. Cats are smart, classy, sophisticated –"

"Could you stage whisper any louder?" asked Connor, the warm expression he was piling on Oliver slipping off as he shot them a glare. Oliver was pretty clearly trying not to smile, and failing terribly.

"-and cats aren't scared of mice." she finished, unperturbed.

Laurel glanced at Oliver with an enigmatic smile, then looked back down at the book she was studying. "Clearly both can be domesticated." she said quietly.

Connor moved his glare towards Laurel. He took back everything he told Oliver about her being his least annoying friend.

"Damn," said Asher, holding his hand out for a high five that Laurel pretended not to notice. He turned to Wes, who sighed and obliged.

Michaela added, "Connor's more likely to have fleas though."

Connor opened his mouth to retort, "Blame Aiden" but looked over at Oliver, who was blushing and laughing, and shut it again. This whole "supportive boyfriend" thing was decimating his comebacks.

He settled for "I'm not scared of mice, Michaela. I'm not overly fond of giant rats that somehow got inside. And you weren't exactly courageous either. I think my eardrums are still damaged."

"It touched my Chanel bag, Connor. I doubt you can understand that but it's like if a rat got inside the thousands of tubs of hair gel I'm sure you own."

"He's gone through 5 in the last month." Oliver piped in.

"You might want to hold up fingers so Asher can understand."

Oliver tried to turn his laugh into a cough and Asher threw a chip at Connor, that ended up falling about a metre short. Connor raised an eyebrow, looking distinctly unimpressed.

"As the token straight guy I feel like you should be better at sport."

"Hey, you're the one who's supposed to be both pitcher and catcher, right?" Asher said, looking around for more potential high fives. Wes had caught on to Laurel's strategy and was staring intently at his work.

Connor rolled his eyes. "Why do I bother explaining slang to you?"

Asher clutched his chest in mock offence. "For the sake of our rainbow alliance. Our sexuality smorgasbord. Our gays and guys club. Our bromance bond. Our-"

Connor winced like he was in physical pain. "Please stop talking."

"I found the addresses you wanted," Oliver said. "Actually I found them 5 minutes ago, I just wanted to see how...whatever this is...played out."

Laurel looked up with a smile. "Thank you Oliver. We'll put in a good word for you with Professor Keating and hopefully she'll consider hiring you."

"That's really not necessary. I don't need payment. I'm happy just -"

"Just doing this for Connor?" Michaela interjected, "Trust me Oliver, Professor Keating is a far superior employer. She can offer rewards above and beyond the sad consolation prize that is Connor."

"Michaela," Laurel warned, seeing Oliver's face fall almost imperceptibly. "It's your choice. Just think about it."

As they walked back home, Connor noticed Oliver looked a little dispirited. "So," he said, trying to make conversation, "Michaela's stepped up the sycophancy but she does have a point. Professor Keating could pay pretty highly. You know," he added with a smile and a nudge, "once she sees how good you are."

"Hmm." was all he got in return. Normally a comment like that could make Oliver blush a little at least. He could always try to annoy Oliver into responding. That also had a pretty high success rate.

"I wouldn't mind you know. As helpful as you are I'm pretty sure I'm leagues ahead of the others anyway. I may as well get my name engraved on that trophy already."

Oliver didn't want to think about that, what would happen when Connor didn't need him anymore. He heard Michaela's words echoing in his head, reminding him that despite the facade, this was, at heart, a business transaction.

"Hey. What's wrong? I know being around Michaela and Asher is a disenchanting experience but it's only been 2 hours. Try spending every day with them."

"I like your friends, Connor. And I know you secretly like them. That's not it."

Connor swallowed, feeling his throat tighten. He'd been expecting this moment for a while. "Is it me?"

"What?" Oliver asked, head jerking up. "Of course not. It's just...I really like you Connor."

Connor's heart jumped a little. "I really like you too."

"No, I mean – as more than a friend or – or friend with benefits. I really like you."

Connor wondered if Oliver was incredibly oblivious or if he was even worse at this relationship thing than he thought.

"Oliver. I feel the same way."

"Oh." Oliver felt his chest lighten, especially once Connor gave him one of those confused-but-earnest smiles that he couldn't help but kiss.

5 minutes later they were walking again, ruffled hair and and clothes looking a little inconspicuous. (Oliver decided that they needed to start heading back to his apartment at some point, helpfully reminding Connor that it was replete with a bed.) They arrived quickly and Connor waited impatiently as Oliver got his keys out.

"I've decided, if Professor Keating offers me a job I'm going to take it. You should probably start thinking of other ways to beat Laurel."

"Did you not hear me before? I've got this. Lady Justice wants me."

"I think she might want Laurel a tad more. She said in the last exam – "

"When did you two start being friends?"

"A while ago. Maybe you should team up with her. Walsh and Castillo has a nice ring to it."

Connor rolled his eyes and pulled Oliver inside with him, kissing him to distraction.