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Of constant turmoils and cockfights

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Leo stands like a tall, slim sentinel on the threshold of Cody's bedroom, giving his back to it so he can properly glare at Adam, who stands just a few inches away from him, as close as he can get to the room without actually stepping on Leo. They are staring so intently at each other that Cody honestly doesn't know if they're going to kiss or fight. You can never know with them.

“It is my night, Walker,” Leo snarls, emphasis on my. “Just back off already!”

Usually, Adam is the calmer, more accommodating and more reasonable of the two – you kinda have to be all three of those things if you want to be a good president and not spend the entirety of your time fighting with your opponents – but tonight he clearly doesn't want to deal with any of Leo's shit, which will make things harder to fix. “How comes that if you need to switch days, we're always switching days, but when I need to, then your night is set in stone?”

“These are allegations,” Leo replies. He's a little shorter than Adam and he has a completely different type of body, so he can't prevent Adam from towering over him, but he's all nerves and rage and that makes him look dangerous anyway, like a cat ready to jump at your eyes. “It happened one time, Walker. One time. And you're still holding it against me. Do you at least realize how weak your argument is if you have to fish it back from the dawn of times?”

“I would hardly call five months ago the dawn of times,” Adam hisses at him. “And I always remind it to you because you fucking live with him, Leo, and you still asked, no demanded, to switch dates. Do you at least realize how selfish that is?”

When Cody started to date both of them – and having Leo accept the mere idea was already a mammoth task – scheduling their quality time with Cody seemed the most sensible thing to do. And it would be, if the two of them could stop for a moment to play the alpha males, growling and barking at each other every time one invades the other's territory. Cody is really tired of their cockfights. Especially when he's the only one who could establish which one of them has the biggest one, and he won't do that.

But he should have known better.

Leo and Adam have been friends since they were three, but they couldn't be more different. A part from their physical appearance – one is blonde, the other is black haired, one is fit and strong, the other is slim and agile – it's the cores at the center of their beings that are opposite. The only reason why they are able to be friends is that they are also complementary – so they complete each other – but such contrasting natures were bound to clash when chasing the same prize.

Adam is driven by his brain more than his feelings. He has no problem sharing Cody and bending rules, but he can't deal with Leo's demands when they're based only on emotional needs. He's a practical man with practical problems, he doesn't get how Leo can be so governed by his feelings – his almost crippling jealousy above all – that sometimes he can't even stop to think for a moment.

To say that Leo's emotional is an understatement.
The entirety of his responses comes from his guts. He loves, hates, feels with such intensity that he has no control over himself whenever his feelings take over, which is pretty much all the time. He can be forced to see reason, but only with time and only after he lets out whatever is gnawing at him. And Cody knows that very well, since more often than not that means being roughed up around the house.

When something happens and the two of them clash, it's always sparkles; one trying to make a point and the other only wanting to break things. There's no dialogue and therefore no resolution. At least not until Cody takes the matter (and later something else) into his own hands.

“Very well, listen to me,” he says, when he's finally ready to go out and the other two have already been quarreling for at least forty minutes. “It's either I have dinner with Adam, go to the concert with Leo and then all of us meet again after that and we spend the night together, or I'm calling Matt and spend the whole evening with him.”

“Cody, listen...”

“But that's not fair!”

Cody doesn't want to hear any of that. “You, dinner. You, concert. Both, my room,” he repeats, before pointing at himself and the ridiculously frilly skirt and boat neck shirt he's wearing. “Or all of this is Matt's.”

They both fall quiet and nod, obediently. Being at each other throats all the time and sometimes lose to each other is okay, but lose him to a third party, that's unacceptable. Cody doesn't know when exactly his life became this, being the coveted prize in a war constantly going on around him between two stubborn animals that are too busy clawing at each other's eyes to listen to him, but he's willing to bear with it as long as one word from his mouth and he can stop it, although temporarily.