— Where are you?
— 41.029389, -123.567242
Theo stared at his phone a little longer, waiting for some kind of reply. It was a strange answer to that kind of question. Most people said home or at the movies. The blue light of the screen got lost in the yellow light of the campfire that bathed his face in heat and radiance. He frowned a little at himself for expecting something further and set the phone down on the worn, all-weather cushion of his scavenged wicker couch. The threads had come up in places and mushrooms of foam burst through, but it was better than sitting on a log. Most of what he "owned" sat piled under a lean-to of corrugated steel and tree branches lashed with old seatbelts. That and his truck formed a sort of wall around one side of the fire, and he could put his back to them without feeling a paranoid itch.
It was a mobile setup.
He popped the last bite of an energy bar in his mouth, stuffed the wrapper in a pocket, and leaned back, listening. He should be able to hear approaching vehicles miles away, given the contour of the landscape. Eventually, a smallish engine with a not terribly throaty growl came into range. He tracked it almost lazily. It stopped somewhere down by the road, and Theo turned in that direction, curious. He'd given Liam exact coordinates. If that was him—and who else would it be—he parked far.
The silence of the woods resolved into footsteps, and Theo sat up a little straighter, a wary tension in his limbs as he heard a heartbeat hammering hard.
Liam stepped into the glow of the fire, hunched and wearing a scowl, and slowed to an awkward stop.
Theo stared at him with growing concern as a cloud of astringent scent carried on the air, overpowering the smell of smoke.
"What's wrong?" he resisted the urge to jump up, ready for a fight.
"Wh—" Liam frowned at him. "How did—"
"You smell like stress." Theo glanced him up and down.
Liam nodded absently, ticking his head like he should have guessed that instead of asking. His gaze moved over the truck and lean-to and the wicker sofa looking bright in the firelight, and his scowl deepened.
"You live out here?"
Theo lifted one shoulder in a shrug and looked away, fighting the embarrassment creeping up his neck. His eyes drifted toward the lean-to sheltering busted suitcases, but they shifted back as Liam came closer to the fire. Theo watched him staring at the truck.
"You sleep in your car," Liam said, mostly to himself, in a horrified whisper.
Theo swallowed, shrugged, plastered on a grin. "The Sheriff's Department didn't like me doing it in town."
Liam's expression fell further, and he stared at Theo with wide eyes. Something, indignation maybe, slipped across his face, only to be replaced by guilt as he glanced around the little camp again. Theo watched Liam realizing all the things he'd never thought about. Where Theo came from when he called. Where he went back to when he left. From the ether and back to darkness, that was all. Liam had seen behind the curtain now, and Theo couldn't decide if it was a good thing. His pulse quickened, waiting for judgment, and then he gestured at the empty space on the other side of the couch.
"Have a seat," he said.
Liam met Theo's eyes and hesitated, then darted for the couch and dropped into it with clipped motions. He kept his knees clamped together, his hands balled into fists, and he focused on the campfire. Liam's heart started racing again, and Theo frowned. He thought he might wait him out. Sometimes Liam just needed time to get his words in order. But the silence stretched, and the rapid, terrified heartbeats were cinching Theo's own stress higher.
"Liam—"
"They tell me I'm an idiot." Liam cut him off with a sudden burst of words.
Theo tilted his head. "What?"
Liam chanced a look at him then. "That I'm playing with fire. That I need to wake up. That it's a trick and I'm falling for it. I know they're just trying to help, but they won't leave me alone about it."
"About what?"
"You!"
The word hit in the gut, and while Liam sighed and looked briefly at the sky, Theo curled away and dropped his gaze to the ground.
"Everyone keeps warning me not to trust you," Liam went on. "And then tonight?" Belts tightened around Theo's chest as he listened, squeezing out his air. "Tonight they had an intervention!"
Liam sounded outraged, and Theo ducked his head further. He shouldn't be surprised. But he'd thought, recklessly, that he'd made more progress than that.
Theo shook his head and let his eyes fall shut. "Maybe they're right," he muttered.
"What?"
With effort he turned to look Liam in the eye. "I said—"
"I heard what you said." Liam scowled. "You're wrong."
He said it with such conviction Theo could almost believe it. He scanned the lines of Liam's face, the set of his jaw.
"How do you know?" he asked, more softly and more pleading than he intended. Perhaps the answer would be a good one.
"Because . . ." Liam said. "You're different."
Theo puffed a breath of disappointment from his nose and shook his head, turning to the fire. Different didn't fix things. "I hurt a lot of people." He dropped his head and stared at the leaves between his feet. Guilt roiled in his gut. "You should know. You're on that list."
"That was before . . . I don't think you'd do it now."
Theo scoffed.
"I'm serious."
He glanced over, and Liam looked so . . . sincere. It was hard not to be drawn in by it. Theo's shoulders eased back. Their eyes met, and Liam's pulse kicked up so high it sounded like it might burst.
"Do you remember the day after Hayden left?" Liam asked. He wet his lower lip. "I spent the whole day on the couch."
Theo nodded at him. "I know."
"Crying."
"I was there." Gently. The memories flashed to him in sense impressions. The smell of salt and sorrow. The sound of sobs and guitar music.
Liam's mouth turned up in a sad smile. "Mason couldn't take it anymore." Emphasis, presumably, on how pathetic he must have been for his best friend to have given up. Liam paused, heart pounding, holding his gaze. "You didn't leave."
He didn't. Theo smiled a bit, recalling that sense impression, too. The weight of Liam's head, his heat. "You cried yourself to sleep on my shoulder."
Liam nodded. "And all the times you've taken me out to teach me werewolf stuff." Theo huffed at the phrase. "Or helped me study. Even subjects you hate."
He tipped his head. He'd thought he'd covered a little better than that. But that wasn't the point. The point— He didn't know the point.
"Liam, what—"
Liam lifted a hand and pressed his fingers to Theo's lips, shushing him. Theo stared as his own pulse shot skyward. He swallowed and tried to focus on anything but the burn of unexpected contact.
"My point is . . . they think I'm blind."
Liam watched him carefully, never looked away as he shifted closer. Theo just stared, spellbound, stunned immobile as Liam ever so gently moved his hand, brushed his fingers along Theo's jaw, and cupped his face. His thumb ghosted over Theo's lips, feather light, tender. Theo couldn't breathe. Couldn't move.
"I see you," Liam said softly. So close. "And, I wonder . . . if that's who you are when everyone hates you . . ." Another brush across the lips. "Who would you be with a little kindness?"
Theo shuddered and watched as Liam leaned in closer. Closed his eyes when he felt lips on his own. It was soft, chaste, unsure. He should react, he knew. But nothing worked, nothing moved. Below his ribs, something new and terrifying cracked with ice and fire, birthed into painful being writhing through dead clay. His senses worked double, turning touch searing. Liam's scent lost the sharpness of stress. The heat of lips left him, and he heard over the rushing sound of his pulse in his ears, "Shit." Muttered once. Then twice.
Liam started to pull away, and the things battering in Theo's chest screamed. Everything unlocked with a gasp and surge of motion. His eyes flashed open and he caught Liam by the wrist, panted, and drew him back closer, placing the hand on his side—a request, hold here, don't go. And one that brought those lips kissing-close again.
Theo gazed at him with awe, with unshackled wonder. With every inhale, the gratitude he harbored as coals in his chest flared, and he touched Liam's face with light fingers.
"You think about that?" About me?
Liam turned into the touch and hid his face. "I can't stop thinking about you," he admitted, low and shy. But then he glanced up. "And I don't think I'd feel that way if you were the same person you used to be."
Fire flooded across Theo's skin, and he could feel his pulse everywhere. Emotion gathered at the base of his throat, and a cautious smile cracked across his face. "I . . . I don't wanna be."
"You're not."
He had to look away. Hope is a dangerous, fragile thing—like happiness. But he let Liam turn his face back, and this time, this time, the anticipation had him rising up, meeting Liam's lips halfway. This time he knew how to respond.
Kissing, hands in hair.
Leaning back into the arm of the chair, sharp inhales.
Drawing Liam's weight over him, strokes up the back.
Theo gasped in surprise and pleasure when Liam licked at his throat. He braced a hand on the—
The wicker couch creaked, and Liam froze. Theo's hands on Liam's back froze, and the both of them waited, breathing hard. Liam glanced up over Theo's head toward the truck and back down. Theo gazed at pink plush lips, his skin aching, and the animal urge to rock and rutt right where he was beat against his brain.
He took a calming breath and tried to imagine what Liam was thinking as he slowly frowned at the tight cabin. The cramped space. "There's a mattress in the back of the truck," Theo managed to say.
A mischievous, predatory smile crossed Liam's face as he got up and grabbed Theo by the shirt, hauling him up. But then Liam stopped and looked back. Theo swallowed, waiting, and Liam released his grip on the fabric. Pointedly, deliberately, he took Theo's hand instead.
Theo's heart thumped somewhere on the leaf-strewn ground. Every breath spread sparks across his chest as Liam let the tailgate down with one hand, hopped up without letting go, and pulled him up. Theo didn't need the help, but . . . he didn't want to let go, either.
For a moment they stood on the tailgate, features cut into strange shadows by the moonlight from above, firelight from below. Theo glanced at the mattress—it had a sheet, at least—and he let Liam's hand slip from his. They were really going to do this. He met Liam's eyes briefly, then pulled off his shirt and dropped it on the corner of the bed. He heard Liam's breathing change and tried not to smile. He sat on the edge of the mattress, shoes next, stuffed them with his socks, and set them on the tailgate with a pointed look up at Liam. Dropping them in the dirt meant searching for them later. In the dark. Which sucked.
Then he crawled, conscious that he was on his knees. That Liam was watching. That his pulse kicked up when Theo lowered himself down, rolled over, and gazed back. Liam's tongue darted out to wet his lower lip again, and then Theo watched him go through the same motions, revealing hard, heavy muscle burnished silver and gold.
Theo's breathing went shallow.
He'd never thought of Liam this way. As important, yes. Central. His instincts pulled in Liam's direction, to help, to protect. Pack, they screamed, and he didn't fight it.
But this . . .
This . . . surge of blood.
Liam turned at the foot of the bed, coming onto all fours, and Theo's eyes flashed golden. A second later, Liam straddled his thighs, flashing his eyes in reply, a little daring, a little hungry. He went straight for Theo's mouth, testing once before pressing harder. The kiss turned heated, stung with bites and scrapes of teeth. Liam kissed his jaw and breathed a hot line to his neck.
He licked. Sucked.
Theo arched, and weak sounds fell out him, sounds he didn't know he could make. Icy fire shot to his groin. It hurt. So vulnerable it hurt, but even if he wanted the words to stop it, he would never. His hands moved on their own, over hard planes and smooth muscle. A flick of tongue, and Theo's fingers bit into Liam's back in a desperate spasm.
Liam lifted his head, and Theo urged him into a kiss to buy time. Pulled him closer, encouraging a rhythm. Denim ground and scraped, loud to their ears, and Theo sucked Liam's lower lip between his teeth, as his own heartbeat steadied. He reached a hand between them, searching for the button on Liam's fly.
They parted suddenly as Liam sat up and back on his heels. He panted, eyes dark, and rubbed his hands up and down his jeans in slow circles.
Theo tipped his head, frowning, curious. He brushed a hand up Liam's bare skin and across his chest, letting his fingers play lightly across one nipple, just to see.
Liam shuddered and swallowed hard.
Ahh . . .
He brushed Theo's hand aside with an embarrassed smile and dug into one pocket. Their eyes met as he drew out a small foil square and what looked like ketchup packets. Liam's heart was racing. Theo frowned for a second, puzzling it through.
Christ . . . Lube packets.
Laughter bubbled up through the morass of emotions in Theo's chest, and he dropped his head back to let it out.
"You came prepared?"
Liam shrugged, grinning and blushing. "I was planning ahead."
Theo sat up, warm with amusement, and slid a hand to the back of Liam's neck. He pulled him into a kiss. Something warm and reassuring. "Yeah," he muttered. "I like that about you." He kissed along Liam's jaw and gave in to the urge to rub temple to temple, to nose around his throat with gentle licks and bites, and nuzzle again on the other side. Thoroughly canine. Affectionate. Two could play the softness game.
"You know we can't get pregnant, right?" His whisper smiled.
Liam leveled a deadpan look at him, and Theo plucked the condom from his hand. He held it up between two fingers.
"Or get sick."
Liam snatched it back. "It's called courtesy."
Theo smiled with patronizing amusement and mouthed the word back at him as he dropped back down onto the mattress with a little bounce. He shouldn't have granted himself that. That lightness. The glow that burned beneath his breastbone left him unnaturally calm. He shouldn't be calm. He'd never looked at a man twice, and now . . .
He couldn't look away as Liam quickly abandoned the rest of his clothes, leaving them in a small heap on the tailgate. Theo's breath caught at sight of skin glowing in fire and moonlight. Half-hard cock swaying heavy as Liam moved. Theo reached for his own jeans, but Liam batted his hands away. So he laid back. Breathing. Concentrated on the feeling of fingers grazing the fabric. So close. He throbbed with the need for friction but held still. Short breaths.
Theo's eyes fell shut on their own when Liam slid his fingers under the elastic band of his underwear, gathering that and his jeans in a single grip, ready to pull them off at once.
Motion stopped.
Theo's eyes popped open at the hesitation, and he found Liam staring at . . . something, an unreadable expression on his face. Theo's pulse pounded in his fingers.
"You don't have to," he said gently. And it was an echo of lines he'd used before, in cheap motels, challenging a conquest to let him down. They took the bait almost always, defying their way into compliance.
Guilt bubbled up from the memories, and Theo moved to take Liam's wrists and nudge him away, because not this time. Not because of a silver tongue.
Liam's expression changed suddenly, his lips going thin and determined. He pulled the briefs and jeans off, not with violence, not rending the few clothes Theo had, but with concentration, care. He lifted, waited, patient, caressing. He spent time just feeling, exploring the body revealed to him, relaxing away everything but the sensitivity to touch. It was so foreign a thing, Theo couldn't feel the mattress beneath him for a moment, couldn't feel his limbs or hear their heartbeats, like reality shifted too far and he was just now catching up with the fact this was a dream.
A hand touched the inside of his knee, and he became solid again, resolving into a naked form that lay pliant and yielding. Liam crawled closer, pressing Theo's knees apart to make room for himself. Theo's breathing went shallow, and he watched in fascination as Liam stroked knee to hip, to belly, to chest, and all the way back, sending thrills to his spine. His cock jumped at the touch, and Liam smiled, almost to himself. He paused with a hand lightly gripping the meat of Theo's thigh, and his expression went serious.
So much skin to skin. He wanted that touch again. That long appreciative reverence, but Liam stayed frozen and seemed a thousand miles away.
Theo couldn't read minds, but he could read people. "Hey," he said, voice rough.
Their eyes met, Liam looking up from where their cocks were almost touching.
"It's a first for me, too."
Liam nodded, chancing a grin, and the hard bundle of his shoulders relaxed some. "Hayden and I, we—" He cut himself off with little wince and frowned. "Sorry. I—I shouldn't—" He shook his head, casting the thought free.
Shouldn't what? Talk about his ex? Because it would . . .
Hurt my feelings?
It was sweet unto ludicrous, and Theo tried not to laugh. In the silence, Liam seemed to lose focus, growing quiet, just holding on with his gaze locked somewhere below Theo's eyes. A gust of cool air blew, and Theo felt it acutely across his bare body.
"So," he said, almost conversational. "Nice weather we're having."
Liam looked at him then and scowled. "Shut up."
"Are you waiting for me to—" Theo gestured between them vaguely, not sure what he was offering, exactly, but the longer they did nothing, the more foolish he felt.
"No." Liam sighed and shut his eyes, embarrassment flashing up his chest and neck. "I only know one way to . . . do this."
Theo's brows pulled together in a frown. It wasn't a question, though it felt like one. "Okay . . ." He drew the word out.
Liam sucked a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming himself. "Okay." A nod.
Trepidation skittered down Theo's neck as he realized he'd just agreed to . . . something and didn't know what. He tensed when Liam shuffled backward and held his hands up and out of the way. If Theo would have guessed what would come next, it wouldn't have been this. Liam spreading warm palms in a caress across his midsection, fingers curling gently around his sides.
Theo's breath escaped in rough sigh as Liam touched a kiss to soft skin of his belly, and he laid back, surrendering to the sensation. Liam kissed a slow line up his chest and traced light fingers up his sides. Shivering soft. Unhurried.
Liam's tongue found a nipple and swirled, tasted, but all Theo's attention centered on the fingers tracing up his arms, almost tickling, so gentle. Hands gripped his, entwining fingers, and Theo bucked at the sudden confinement, the sudden intimate closeness. His breath quickened. Liam's weight against him shifted, and he opened his eyes as a breeze chilled his wet nipple to a fine point. Liam hovered over him, looking thoughtful, gazing where his mouth had just been.
"It—" Theo cleared his throat, and his voice shook a little. "Not that sensitive," he managed.
Liam glanced at him, nodded, and pressed Theo's hands just above his head.
Pinned. Theo's heart pounded, despite the light grip.
Another line of kisses, and Liam touched his lips to the curve of Theo's neck. He nudged, nuzzling as Theo had done, inhaling deep. Theo shuddered and turned toward him, raking his lips across anything he could find.
Then Liam started on the soft, vulnerable skin with a hot tongue. Wet lips. He sucked and licked and flicked, and Theo's nerves melted by degrees. He turned liquid-weak and pulled one hand free to keep from drowning. Weighty, languorous pleasure arced through his body, and it was nothing like their excited clamoring.
Liam dug his newly freed hand into Theo's hair and held him so he could kiss his jaw, his cheek, his mouth. Theo opened to him with a moan, letting him taste, explore. Tongues slid, and he felt Liam smile. Then start to laugh. Laugh. He hid his face in Theo's shoulder, giggling. It was strange and innocent, and when he got over the fit, Liam squeezed on his hand.
It made Theo's heart race.
It was insane, the two of them. This.
Liam lifted up enough to gaze at him, eyes still dancing with mirth.
"What do you want from me?" Theo asked, in the smallest of voices.
Liam brushed his fingers along Theo's hairline in reply, startlingly affectionate, and Theo flinched before he could control it.
"Okay?" Liam whispered, his hand hovering.
Theo nodded, barely a motion, and when the fingers brushed again leaned into the affection while something small and dark and sharp in the back of his mind screeched its warnings.
"I want to know when I get it wrong." Liam kissed his shoulder, and Theo had no reply.
No one was like this. People were not like this. Liam hated him; he'd said so. And yet . . . it was so warm, so intoxicating to be the center of that attention. For a while they just kissed, caressing skin, eliciting soft, delicious sounds.
Theo took Liam's cock in his hand and stroked him the way they kissed, long and slow. Liam moaned into his mouth, and it was water for a parched soul. Every kind touch sank too deep, to the bone. It hurt. Dead tissue massage back to life, announced in pain. But he couldn't make Liam stop—he let go and laid back—couldn't wish for him to stop. Fear howled in his heart and flashed its teeth. Every inch of skin familiar with tortures touched and touched again. The terrible thought blazed through his mind that if he made Liam angry, it would stop. The stream of shattering touches and blistering softness would end.
He could not take . . .
He could not take . . .
Please . . .
"Theo?"
"I c-can't, I can't . . ." He tried to nudge Liam away and sat up, but somehow Liam was still there, still in his space.
"You're shaking." He sounded so concerned, so genuinely troubled. Liam wrapped his arms around Theo's midsection from behind and pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade, rocking him gently.
It felt . . . like love.
Stop . . .
He fought the trembling, and his breathing came ragged. "If you're gonna do it, do it . . ."
He'd been on the other side of this dance, and it seemed to him now freshly cruel.
"Not if you don't want me to," Liam said. Another kiss on Theo's shoulder, a nuzzle along his neck.
"It's okay." His voice came out shaky, unconvincing even to himself. He swallowed and tried again. "I'm just used to something else."
Liam rested against his shoulder for a second, then tightened his embrace and placed another kiss. He unwound and moved away, and in the few seconds of solitude Theo found his edges. He could breathe again.
"I think," Liam said, packets in hand, "you should lie on your side."
Theo glanced at him, fear spiking through his blood. But he stretched out and rolled as requested, pillowing his head on one arm. He could see the glow of the fire over the side of the truck, but not the flames.
"Here." Liam knelt behind him. "Like this."
What he wanted was Theo's knee bent, pointing skyward. Theo shuddered at how naked it felt, how exposed—which was the point. The cold fingers of fear tickled his scalp, and the silence while Liam worked turned deafening. Alone. He could hear Liam's heart beating and still the fear of abandonment sloshed over him. He cast a cautious look over his shoulder.
Liam smiled back at him, looking ruffled and soft. "I'm . . . not really sure about this part," he admitted. One lube packet already lay discarded next to him.
"It's okay," Theo told him, settling back down. "Whatever you want." Whatever tithe was demanded, he would pay. There was no thanks enough for being raised from perdition. No limit.
He closed his eyes when Liam's hand settled on his hip and jerked with a small gasp when a slicked up finger slid between the globes of his ass. The hand on his hip moved in small, calming circles, and he tried, tried to be calm, but his breath came in short pants. It was an alien sensation. Liam teased and circled, and the air punched from Theo's lungs when he pressed inside too fast.
The grunt and cry he let out earned a "Sorry, sorry," but he shook his head and squeezed his fists tighter. If this was what Liam was after, he could have it. He could have anything. Theo took a few breaths, deeper and longer each time. He focused on the friction of Liam's palm rubbing circles on his skin. The heat spread to his legs, to his abdomen.
"Okay?" Liam asked him.
Exhale . . .
"Theo?"
"Mmhmm."
Motion. Slight at first. That was Liam trying to be cautious. Everything burned, his body burned. A band tightened around his lungs.
"I have to add another one," Liam whispered to him. "They say that should be enough."
Theo quirked an eyebrow and glanced over his shoulder. "They?" It came out breathy.
"Online." Liam shrugged, grinning. "I looked it up."
Theo huffed a laugh, and some of the tension bled out of him. Looked it up.
"What?" Liam's voice held a frown. "I brought lube, didn't I?"
Theo shook his head and waited for the second finger, the renewed burn as his muscles fought against it. He let out a slow breath.
"I can't believe you planned this," Theo said eventually.
"Why?"
Liam thrust his fingers deep, and Theo hissed, rocking with the motion.
"I can't believe"—Theo panted—"you want me." Heat rushed to his face. It was a bald truth. He couldn't believe it. It didn't make any sense, except as a ruse.
Liam paused. Paused, with his fingers deep as they would go, and Theo groaned at him and rolled his hips. Motion was better.
"You're good to me," Liam said, threading the fingers of his free hand into Theo's hair, rubbing at his scalp.
Theo shook his head in denial, but Liam dropped a kiss onto his shoulder.
"Yeah," he whispered. "You are."
Something inside touched just right, and Theo's answer disappeared into a buck and cry. He sighed when Liam withdrew and waited in the darkness behind closed eyes as a body stretched out next to him. Their weight dipped the mattress, and he tipped, his back settling against Liam's chest. He could hear the crackle of the foil package, the close, wet sound of Liam stroking himself, distributing lube. It lanced straight to his groin. The breath across his neck sparked nerves, and he hardened, aching.
Sex, in Theo's experience, was quick and greedy. Participants clamored for their release and disappeared from each other, sated. He'd thought once Liam's drawn out preamble was done, he could find his moorings again. A thrust, some pain, a grunt, and animal lust would drive them on.
Liam was . . . insufferably tender, aggravatingly attentive, and Theo bent toward it like sunlight. Liam pressed at him, kissed him through the first breaching. Swallowed his groan and stroked him everywhere. It took awhile to realize that every time he made a sound or movement that might be distress, Liam stopped and swarmed him with tongue and touch, melted his spine with pleasure.
"Relax," Liam whispered, lips touching the shell of his ear. "I won't hurt you."
Theo could have cried. Did he sound as earnest when he said it to others? Did they fall like he was falling?
Sensations built and tumbled out as sounds. Pressure and pain and exhilaration. Small bursts of flashing stars. Quivering need.
The effort of being so attentive, so controlled broke sweat across Liam's skin. Made his hair damp to the touch when Theo drew him in for long lingering kisses. Liam ran a hand down his thigh, then hooked his arm under Theo's lifted knee. Theo broke the kiss and panted. Dropped his head as the position stretched him open wider.
One hand held the back of Theo's head. The other, now, wrapped the architecture of his ribs, embracing him like he was delicate, breakable. Precious. Emotions unnameable washed through his core, and Theo surged up into a kiss that trailed into a moan as Liam rocked his hips and pulled out, dragging an ocean tide of sensation with him. It was overwhelming. Different. He stopped trying to catalogue.
In. Slow . . . Ohh . . .
His body quivered. Liam licked at his neck.
Out. Burning. Breathless . . . Sigh . . .
It was soft and unhurried. For a boy so capable of violence, Liam was so capable of care.
Theo's shaking built like a darkening sky over the ocean. He gasped with jolts of lightning pleasure but he couldn't feel a direction, a finish line. He had no compass for reaching. Just endless waves and stars behind his eyelids. But the longer they spent writhing, rocking, kissing, sucking, the shorter his breaths came. The harder he shook. He needed more. Harder, deeper.
"Please." The word ghosted out, and he searched for Liam's lips. Waves of pins down his arms. He whimpered, shameless. "Please . . ."
A harsh exhale and a sound that might have been assent in his ear. A hard suck at the crook of his neck. And then Liam's pace changed. Quickened. Theo's bones went molten as Liam bore down. Pleasure blossomed. He strained to breathe as his partner let out high, broken moans. Seeking. Seeking.
Liam clamped on as he came, shuddering and holding Theo as close as he could. He jerked, harder, and Theo felt it in his throat. The fullness. He swallowed, and his pulse throbbed across his skin. Liam touched his cheek, and he turned to receive a sweet, sloppy kiss on the mouth. A distracting slide of lips that he bucked into as Liam's hand wrapped around his cock. Fuck . . .
He stroked once, confident and quick, and the aching turned sharp. So hard it hurt. Another. He moaned into Liam's mouth. Another.
Theo arched with the pleasure of it. Liam thrust, hitting nerves, and Theo broke the kiss with a burst of incoherent sounds.
They were out of rhythm, strokes and thrusts. He didn't know which way to move. Only that the pleasure built and crested. Uncoiled as his throat burned. He came with a quiet shudder that rolled out to his fingertips.
Everything slowed.
And the ache subsided.
And when he opened his eyes he could breathe again. And the glow from the fire was dim.
The air smelled like sweat and sex and smoke. Liam unwound their limbs and brushed a gentle palm down his arm and side. Theo swallowed as they parted and then rolled onto his back carefully, still quivering. He stared up at the stars, casting a glance at Liam as he tied the condom in a little knot. Courtesy.
Too many things rattled around his chest. The hot, lingering memories of lips and hands. The sharp tug of need, not for the sex but the care. Pathetic. He scowled at himself. Liam stretched back out on the bed beside him and tentatively reached out a hand. Brushed their fingers together. Theo turned to find Liam watching him with hooded, glazed eyes and a soft, pleased expression.
It didn't make any sense. None of it made any sense. It was too good. Too much a simulacrum of real caring, and only a fool would believe it. Like the parade of fools who had believed his honeyed lies. Theo frowned and snatched his hand away. He sat up with a rush of humiliated anger. He was no one's fool. Not again. Whore maybe, but no fool.
He rocked forward on unsteady limbs and reached for his pile of clothes.
"Get what you were after?" he asked, grinding out the words with his back to Liam.
"What?" Liam's voice sounded groggy. "What's wrong?"
Theo snorted, pulled on his socks and shoes last, and hopped off the truck bed. New aches protested in places he didn't know he had, but his healing dulled the edge. He checked the fire and paced over to a pile of dry wood to find more fuel. As he laid new split logs in the pit, he kept track of Liam's movements on the bed. The truck suspension creaked as Liam's feet in the ground.
Theo clenched his jaw and found a spot to feed some kindling to the coals. His chest hurt, and his stomach twisted tighter as Liam approached.
"Theo . . ." Liam stroked a hand up his shoulder blade, but Theo shrugged him off and wheeled on him.
"What do you want from me?" He shouted it, ringing with anger, indignation.
Liam jolted and retreated a step. "What?" It wasn't a real question.
"No one just does . . . that." He waved toward the truck, toward, fuck, hours of intimate whatever-the-hell and shook his head. "Not for free."
Liam's expression shifted from confused to mortified. "I thought . . . I thought you liked it."
He growled. "That's not the point."
"It's kinda the entire point!"
"Just tell me what you're after!"
"Nothing!"
Theo closed the space between them, chest rising and falling with quick anger. "Everyone's after something," he said, voice low. His grip on anger slipped a little toward hurt. "I just don't know why you thought you had to fuck it out me, when you could've just asked." A breath. "I'd have said yes."
Liam just stared at him. His eyes grew wider, and he swallowed, and he looked inexorably sad. "You are so broken, dude," he said, shaking his head. He stepped back, wearing an expression Theo couldn't untangle, and then turned away. He headed back in the direction he'd come from.
Good. Leave. You shouldn't be here.
Theo watched until he couldn't hear his heartbeat anymore and then sank down onto the couch and dropped his head into his hands. His face burned. Tears slipped down his fingers. Of all the people he thought would play him, use him, Liam was bottom of the list. Everything felt raw and wrong. He shied from the thought that maybe, maybe Liam was genuine, because if he was, then—
He didn't even try to keep quiet. But that was wrong too. Silence let them forget you were there. Silence kept you alive.
Footsteps came back toward the camp and stopped within the circle of heat of the fire.
Theo waited, still covering his face, ashamed at the show of weakness.
Liam waited.
Theo broke first.
"What!" he barked and jumped to his feet, stared at Liam hard.
Liam met his gaze, unflinching. "Wanna know what I want?"
Silence.
Liam lifted his chin. "Come home with me."
"What?" Theo frowned at him, his anger disarmed, and Liam took a step closer.
"You're living out here like a homeless person." He gestured at the camp.
"I am a homeless person."
"So . . ." Another step closer. "Come home with me. I asked my dad. He's cool."
Some of the heat from the crying drained from Theo's face and he snorted. "You asked your dad if a murderer you know could stay in your house?"
Liam scowled at him. "I asked him if my friend who needed help could stay with us for a while." He moved closer still, within an arm's reach. "Hot shower. Hot food. Warm bed—"
"Yours?"
Liam glanced aside shyly and scratched at his neck. "If you want," he admitted. "But I was thinking the guest room, you know. Space to yourself."
Theo stared hard at him, searching for signs of a lie. For a scent or a skip in heartbeat. "Why are you being nice? You hate me."
Genuine surprise sparked across Liam's face and he shook his head. "You're an idiot. And you don't deserve to live like this."
Theo's shoulders hunched, and his gaze dropped to the ground. "Maybe I do." The pressure of tears built again, but he held them in.
"No." Liam closed the rest of the gap and touched his face, drawing a thumb through the tear tracks with one hand, then both. "You don't."
Theo let out a shuddering breath, suddenly so tired, and Liam went on.
"Please? For a night? Leave tomorrow if you don't like it. And . . . it's free. Okay? Totally free."
Theo's defiance crumbled, and he leaned in until their foreheads touched. He couldn't speak, just breathed harsh and deep while Liam brushed at his hair.
"So . . ." Liam asked lightly. "Is that a yes?"
Theo sighed, concentrating on the feel of fingers across his scalp. "Scott'll be pissed," he said softly.
"I'll deal with it. All right?" Liam said.
He didn't answer.
"Theo?"
"No promises."
Whatever you want.