This quiet between them was awkward, weird, tense. Fisher had felt more at ease around the guy when James had started screaming at him in the rec room. But right now, James was acting like... well Fisher didn't know what he was acting like. It was just unnerving. Maybe he was still mad about what had happened the other day, whatever had happened.
Fisher sealed up the small bag and clutched it tight in his hand, since his underwear didn't have any pockets. Tapping his fingers on the bed a moment, he debated leaving. James was probably waiting for him to go. But he needed to know what was going on or else he'd be a neurotic mess. "Um," he said tentatively, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, "I just... was wondering, um... did I do something wrong? The other day, on the couch... did I do something?"