Chapter Text
He takes Theo to his first real pack meeting a few days later. Scott had organized it, hadn't really given much explanation for the occasion, but Liam gets the feeling it's not just to spend as much time as they can together before the big moving day.
When they arrive the block is lined with cars, Stiles' old jeep parked on the grass to make room for Lydia's and Mason's rides. The fact that Theo actually has to spend a few seconds deliberating where to park is proof enough that they're not here for a barbecue--Scott's found something.
"Scott has way too many damn friends," Theo remarks, pocketing his keys with a sullen expression on his face. "This is ridiculous."
Liam hops out of his side of the truck, shoving his hands in his pockets, unable to squash down the warm, giddy feeling that comes with being around pack. It's not enough to erase the dread he's been sitting on since Theo's declaration a few days prior, but it's as soothing as it is rejuvenating.
"Hate to break it to you," he says, in a voice he knows isn’t the least apologetic, "but you're one of those friends now. Last I heard, Melissa tells the neighbors she hosts some pretty wild book club meetings."
Theo glances warily at him, and Liam bumps his shoulder as they trek up the driveway. "Should we have brought a casserole or something?” he asks, sounding almost serious, and Liam's own laugh catches him by surprise.
"That's not a requirement until much later down the road," he assures him, taking the front porch steps two at a time and twisting the front door knob. They let themselves in nowadays, have been for as long as Liam can remember, especially on pack nights like these.
Theo follows, a reluctant stutter in his step, but Liam waits, ushers him into the foyer just to be sure he won't run. It's unlikely, given the fact that Theo seems to be just as aware that tonight is more business than pleasure, and because Scott had asked him personally to come, but he's been antsy all day and Liam knows it's not a coincidence.
It's loud, everyone talking amongst themselves, and Liam spots his own friends sprawled out across the couch like a group of sunbathing reptiles. He doesn’t see Scott or Lydia or any of the others, but he can hear Malia in the kitchen in the midst of an animated conversation, and figures the meeting hasn't officially started yet.
Mason waves at them, five pairs of eyes turning to stare as the door shuts behind Theo.
"Are we late?" Liam asks, noting how things have clearly been lively for awhile now. There's a cluster of empty soda cans and wine coolers scattered across the coffee table, and Mason's grin is suspiciously loose, like he's been the one knocking back all the Seagram's with a vengeance.
"We're taking it slow," Brett says, turning halfway around on the loveseat to smirk at the two of them. "Scott's got something to tell all of us, but he's been keeping pretty quiet since we got here, at least."
"If he's not careful, he'll lose control of the audience before the show even starts," Theo remarks, eyeing the cans littered everywhere. "You sure you didn't just come here to party?"
Brett's smirk widens, and Liam grits his teeth.
Theo and Brett have met each other a grand total of three times, and each time has gone considerably better than the last. He's pretty sure they exchanged numbers when Liam wasn't looking, and they probably trade embarrassing stories about him behind his back just for the sheer diabolical joy of it. It is, Liam has decided, a tragedy of immeasurable proportions. The two people most religiously dedicated to getting under Liam's skin get along like peanut butter and jelly, if the peanut butter were toxic as hell and the jelly long ago expired.
It's a recipe for disaster, essentially, and one he can't seem to extricate himself from.
"Scott officially declared us part of the pack," Brett grins, gesturing between himself and Lori. "I asked him how that was possible when most of the pack wasn't even going to be in town next month, but then he told me a certain someone was gonna be taking over for him, and you know I never miss an opportunity to see Liam fumble a pass firsthand."
"Eat a dick, Brett." Sue him for not being incredibly witty. Brett makes Liam feel like a kid, like a toddler with a biting problem, and it only makes Liam want to bite more. It's an infinite feedback loop, the most infuriating of catch-22's.
"Guess our fate lies in his hands now," Theo replies in mock terror, because he knows nothing of loyalty. He shoots Liam some hybrid smile, half taunting, half reassuring, but Liam just sneers at him.
"I will leave this meeting before it even starts," he threatens, even though there's not an ounce of truth to it and he knows how un-Alpha-like it would be to turn tail and run before things even get serious. "I didn't come here to get bullied."
Brett shrugs, unaffected. "Not my fault you're so easy," he replies, and Liam gathers a monumental surge of self-discipline just to ignore him, peeking around Brett's shoulders to where Nolan's sitting, arms folded around his knees on the floor by the coffee table.
"Did Scott text you?" he asks, because he's genuinely curious. "I didn't know if you'd show up."
Nolan looks momentarily caught off guard, then nods, biting his lip. "He called me, actually," he says. "Told me something was up and he wanted my input. I couldn't really say no, I guess."
Liam nods back. "Good," he replies. He'd been the one to vouch for Nolan, to put the bug in Scott's ear that the kid was not only useful, but probably floundering post the war from only weeks ago. They aren't friends, not by any stretch of the word, but Liam's smart enough to know that leaving people like Nolan to their own devices when the dust settles is rarely the best option for anyone.
"So what's this all about?" Corey pipes up from where he's been nursing a Dr. Pepper next to Mason on the couch. "No one told us anything, just that we had to be here or else Malia would hunt us down or something."
"Hunters, probably," Theo says after a moment of hesitation. "Scott had me combing the whole town earlier in the week after hours."
"And?" Corey asks, lifting an eyebrow.
"They're definitely keeping tabs on us." The room gets a little solemn at that, some of the easy camaraderie sucked out of the air as though by a vacuum. "I found a couple of them holed up outside of town, but who knows how many more there are, or whether they're staying put or not. Scott had Argent put some of his feelers out, but I have no idea if they've found anything else."
"It would be nice if people told us things every now and again," Lori complains, practically upside down on the couch next to Brett. "I know this pack is big and all and people talk, but still."
"Scott will share whatever he knows," Liam offers, confident. "He probably just didn't want people to panic or get the wrong idea. It could be nothing."
"When is it ever nothing?" Mason points out and Liam shrugs. He has a point, but Liam can dream. Besides, even if there isn't anything this time around, there will be again in the future, and Scott is still leaving Beacon Hills one way or another.
"We'll handle it," he replies. "We always do."
Before anyone else can interject, the door to the kitchen opens and a stream of people come spilling out, Scott in front.
"Glad to see everyone made it." Scott doesn't look at all displeased at the lot of them flopped over the furniture so casually. "We're grilling out after the meeting's over, so you're all welcome to stay."
That sets Liam's mind fluttering. Surely if Scott's news was especially dire, he wouldn't have taken the time to celebrate with hot dogs in bulk, would he? He taps his nails on the wooden trim of the sofa, mindless and impatient, only to feel a hand come to rest on the back of his neck. Theo's thumb is warm against his nape, lightly pressing, and Liam lets out a tight breath.
"I'm not gonna lie," Scott announces once everyone's settled in somewhere, half of them against the wall or on the ground, "I had hoped this would be more of a celebration than a meeting, but unfortunately we don't have that luxury."
"It's Beacon Hills," Derek reminds him, "If you wait until the danger's cleared to enjoy yourself, you'll only die miserable."
"I'm not sure if that's character development coming from you or not, big guy," Stiles comments, slapping Derek on the back, "but it feels like it. That's reason enough to celebrate, I think."
"I've had plenty of character development before now," Derek says, frowning at Stiles. "No reason to throw a party."
"I have more character in my big toe than you had two years ago, dude," Stiles scoffs. "I'd say any change is reason enough to celebrate."
"Anyways," Scott continues, cutting through the banter like a hot knife through butter, "I don't think any of us are in immediate danger, not yet, but Argent brought me some news yesterday that I think is worth sharing, especially with so many of us hitting the road in a couple of weeks."
Liam swallows. Scott had been perfectly serious about handing Liam the reins, but he's not sure he's down with any kind of official 'passing of the baton' so to speak. He'd rather Scott give him a pat on the back in front of everyone and let Liam have a mental breakdown in private. It's much more his style.
Argent comes forward with a manila folder in one hand, and it looks fairly thick, enough to raise eyebrows all around the room as he shuffles through it.
"Some of you have no doubt heard about the dead wolves," he says, holding a blown up shot of a couple of the wolves in question. "Up until about twenty four hours ago, we were about 100 percent certain that not only were they actual, honest to god wolves, but that they were killed using wolfsbane bullets by amateur hunters."
"Why kill real wolves with wolfsbane?" Lori asks, perplexed. "Are there hunters out there that uneducated that they're even gunning down the local wildlife?"
"Like I said, amateurs," Argent replies grimly. "They didn't grow up with a code, nor have they been assimilated into any hunter's guild that lives by one. The Anuk-ite may be gone, but they're still largely driven by ignorance. It's more than enough to make them annoying--"
"And just enough to make them dangerous," Derek finishes. "I confirmed last night that these wolves weren't actually part of the local wildlife, despite our initial beliefs. They were werewolves, easy enough to spot based on scent alone."
"Were those the only bodies?" Liam asks, frowning. "Two dead werewolves is…not great, but they wouldn't be the first." It's a painful truth, and he hates to be the one to say it aloud, but they've dealt with far worse and Liam knows that look on Scott's face. Persistent optimism or no, he'd never have called a full meeting like this over two dead wolves, real or not.
"There have been four more," Argent says, producing a handful of other photos, each of different wolves, all of whom look so close to the real thing he's not surprised everyone else assumed they were legit. "Even that might've only been cause for a warning, that is if we hadn't had the misfortune of discovering something else."
"I didn't know there were that many wolves in the area who could full shift," Theo comments, and it's…a really good point, actually. Liam knows Derek and Malia can full shift, and he's almost certain Satomi had been able to when she was still alive, but no one else in their pack has that ability, and he's never run into anyone in town who can either.
Argent nods. "I'm getting to that," he comments, setting the handful of photos aside and reaching for a couple more. What he pulls out is obscure at best, a close up of the wolves' fur but with some anomaly Liam can't quite make out.
"All of the wolves had something in common," Argent continues. "Besides the obvious, that is."
"Are those sigils?" Mason pipes up, sounding more than a little interested. "Deaton's shown me a lot of textbook stuff, and those look exactly like sigils to me."
"Sigils?" Malia asks. "You mean, like magic sigils?"
Liam kind of wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole, then remembers he knows what that experience looks like and decides he needs to find a new metaphor for wanting to disappear.
"I only have one request," he says, groaning. "Can this please, please not be about witches?"
"I think," Brett opines, staring at the photo evidence with a greenish expression, "that this is definitely going to be about witches."
"God is laughing at us." Liam has only ever encountered one witch in passing and that had been more than enough. "I'd literally take anything else."
"I think we're overdue," Mason disagrees, words flecked with excitement. "It's rare to see legitimate witchcraft these days, especially the Old World kind." He loses an ounce or two of steam. "If that is what this is, anyways."
"They were shot with bullets, though," Stiles argues. "Since when do witches use guns?"
"This is the twenty first century, Stiles," Lydia interjects. "Not all witches run around naked in the woods and carry wands."
"Witches may not be fond of using bullets," Scott says in a clear attempt at mediation, "but hunters like these are even less capable of using magic. Ergo, it's probably witches."
"We don't have a solid theory on exactly what magic has been in use here," Argent admits, gesturing towards a clearer shot of an ominous looking sigil burnt into the forehead of one of the collapsed wolves. "I've given copies of these to Deaton for further analysis, but the fact that every single wolf was full shifted in death when such an occurrence is rare, and that we haven't seen deaths like these occur in shifters still in human form leads me to believe the two factors are linked."
"Theo," Scott asks, and all heads turn in the direction of their little corner. "I know the Doctors weren't exactly magicians, but did they have any information on witchcraft at all? Ancient or modern, anything that could help?"
Theo's scent goes a little cold, like a blast of icy air from an open freezer, but his expression remains neutral. "They had a whole library," he answers, shrugging. "Most of it was spread throughout their network of labs, some in books and some in film. I read a lot of it back in the day, but I tended to stay away from the actual witchcraft. Wasn't my thing."
Stiles raises both hands to the ceiling, as if in glorification to some unseen deity. "I guess we have some twist of fate to thank for the fact that you didn't have spellcasting abilities last year, or else things would've been a million times worse. You'd have turned us all into toads and then stepped on us, just to be an asshole."
Theo grins widely, eyes glinting back. "I think you'd have done better as a mosquito. Would've been more satisfying to see you go splat." He mimes waving a flyswatter, and Scott puts both hands in the air, frowning more deeply than before.
"Okay, okay," he says, gaze fixed on Theo. "Is any of it still intact? Anything we could scavenge that might help Deaton or anyone figure out what kind of magic we're dealing with?"
Theo's eyes flick back to Scott, a little softer but equally as apprehensive. "Even if there was, there's no telling how relevant it’d be. Magic isn't just limited to suburban covens playing with fire or energy. There are multiple creatures who can harness it depending on their connection to the supernatural and their place of origin. Water creatures alone are notorious for utilizing a wide variety of spells so arcane even the Doctors weren't fully educated on them all."
Mason sits up in his seat. "He's right, actually," he says, hardly even sounding begrudging through his interest. "Modern day witches create new sigils and spells all the time, often to coincide with their own elemental or energetic affinities. So we could be looking at ancient symbols from a dead civilization, or…"
"Or something a twenty five year old dreamt up in her apartment last week," Stiles finishes. "Great. That's just…fantastic. I thought witches had rules they were supposed to abide by or whatever? You're telling me they can just make shit up?"
"Everything was made up at some point," Theo notes. "And besides, witches who don't follow the rules are how we end up with situations like this--" he breaks off to gesture towards Argent and his stack of photos--"and with the natural order of things falling out of balance."
Liam's head hurts, in that phantom way it does that reminds him of the old stress headaches he used to get as a human. Everyone looks unsettled, and he has to admit that things aren't looking great. Learning that witchcraft is involved seems to have only widened the pool of possibilities rather than gleaning anything close to answers.
"I'm no expert on witchcraft," Lydia says, a hair quieter than before, "but it's probably worth mentioning that there's a full moon--a Super Pink Moon--coming up next week. I'm not saying any of this is leading up to something, but it might be safer to stay on our guards until then, just in case."
Liam tenses, a hot flush traveling up his neck. Logically, he'd known it was a full moon, but he hasn't exactly been keeping up with the rest of the, ah--lunar modifiers as of late. It's been long enough since last time that he feels like there should've been at least one more supermoon somewhere in the forecast, and despite the extenuating circumstances of last year, he can't help but wonder if perhaps he should be paying more attention.
His fingers find Theo's bicep, wrapping around the bulge of muscle beneath his shirt, and he takes a deep breath. Everyone is staring, some more subtly than others, but Scott is looking him with barely concealed concern. Irritation sprouts in his chest, but for all the reasons that don't bear repeating yet again, he knows his Alpha has every reason to worry.
"I'll be fine," he says, meeting Scott's eyes. Theo's heart skips a beat, and Scott just regards him warily.
"If you need anything, Liam, anything at all…" he begins, but Liam shakes his head.
"Things are different now," he says, hoping he sounds perfectly grounded. "I'll wear myself out the day before, go to bed early or something. It'll be fine."
He's not worried, not really. With any luck, Theo will pick that same night to crash in his bed again and he'll make a point to annoy Liam so much he forgets he's even a werewolf. It wouldn't be the first time. Liam prefers it when he's there anyways; he's less likely to get trapped in his own head.
"You can come hang out with one of us, little buddy," Stiles offers, as amicable as he's capable of. "We can drive around for awhile, maybe eat a ton of food, bother the locals. It'll be great. If you need to sleep we'll just have Derek try and explain literally anything about werewolf culture to you in excruciating detail."
"I'll, uh--consider it," Liam offers, not wanting to turn Stiles down so openly. He'd probably sniff Liam's ulterior motives out in a heartbeat if he had even the slightest idea of who Liam's planning on hanging out with. "But seriously, I should be fine. There's nothing--I have no reason to get upset."
Theo is so alarmingly still, scent so frightfully bland from beside Liam that he nearly contradicts himself by worrying aloud about it, but instead he keeps a tight grip on Theo's arm, trying to appear as unbothered as possible.
"Just don’t think you have to sit it out on your own," Scott says, ever the patient Alpha. "We're here if you need us, that's all."
Liam just nods, thinks about two weeks from now, thinks about having to learn the same sort of composure, and comes up empty. They don't come naturally to him, the gentler virtues: things like patience and understanding, prudence and humility. He's like a poorly drawn image of a boy in a Sunday school textbook--Liam gets angry without thinking, Liam doesn’t stop to wait for anything, Liam doesn’t like to share.
Don't be like Liam.
He feels eyes on him, and when he turns to look, Theo's are staring back at him. They're piercing, knowing without being accusatory, and the twist of his mouth tells all. Liam flags beneath the weight of it, ashamed.
He knows that expression without even having to ask the reason behind it, knows it won't be the last he hears of it either.
-.-
The ride back is something not quite tense, but weighted still, thick with questions unspoken. The phantom ache from earlier still remains, even post-barbeque. His stomach and head are full, the latter with worries he's not sure he wants to put a name to, too afraid to wonder what they might mean. It's easier to lump it all in together as one big mystery, one giant question mark he's too tired to even contemplate the finer details of.
Theo, as usual, doesn't seem content to let Liam withdraw peacefully.
"You planning on trying to sleep like that?" he asks, as the truck engine whirs its way ever closer to Liam's street. "Grumpy face and everything?"
"I don't want to talk about it, Theo." What is there to say, really? There are witches running around town and they could be anyone? More of us are dying and we don't know why? The thought of the fate of the whole town resting in my hands makes me want to puke or dig myself a premature grave?
Nothing Liam says is going to bring them any closer to answers and nothing Theo says is going to make it okay. Scott had sent them all home with a warning to be careful, to keep an eye out, and that he'd have updates before he made any decisions about leaving with things still in limbo. Liam had privately wanted to demand that Scott hand the case to him, let Liam take point instead of shouldering the burden himself with his moving date so near on the horizon, but he'd chickened out.
"Do you want me to stay?" Theo presses. Liam would be stupid to say no, and he doesn’t want to, not really, but that's not the issue at hand here.
He slumps further in his seat. "My mom's been checking up on me every night," he grumbles. "Ever since she asked me about you, I think she's been checking to make sure you haven’t tried to sneak in when no one was looking."
Theo offers him a wry smirk, but Liam can see his hands tense on the wheel. "Can’t blame her for not trusting me," he says. "Most people would consider a strange kid climbing into their son's window at night a sign of delinquency."
Liam rolls his eyes in protest, glaring at Theo from the passenger seat. "You're not a delinquent," he insists, maintaining his glare when Theo raises a single eyebrow. "Not anymore, anyways, and besides, it's not like I can tell her the truth."
"Which is?" Theo's been in a weirdly good mood tonight, despite recent events and Liam's sour thoughts. It's unexpected, to say the least.
That you're my pack, Liam thinks to himself. He's never said it aloud, not even to Theo, but then again, he's not even sure if it's something Theo would want. Plus, Liam's not totally certain it would even be his decision. Does being acting Alpha grant him the ability to decide who's in and who's not? Would it even matter, since this is Theo, of all people?
"That we're not human?" he says instead, sighing. "I can't even tell her how you're so good at climbing onto our roof, much less about the fangs and the claws and the crazy town."
"Can't exactly tell her about our sordid history either, can you?" Theo's cracking a joke, but it falls a little flat. Liam's not sure which one of them is to blame for that. "How exactly are you planning on spinning this?"
Liam twiddles his fingers. "I might have told her the reason you never use the door is because you're shy," he admits, and Theo snorts in predictable derision.
"That's a stupid-ass explanation," he says. "No wonder she didn’t believe you."
"I think she was serious about the pasta thing," Liam tells him, biting his lip. "She's pretty sincere like that--no one spends more than a couple hours in her house without being fed and being subjected to the third degree."
Theo shakes his head. "Your mom doesn't want me at her dinner table, Liam."
"You underestimate her," Liam disagrees. "She's like a dog with a bone. She'll keep bugging me about it until you show up."
"I'll be more sneaky, if it makes you feel better," Theo promises, but all the admission does is tighten at Liam's throat.
"I don't know what she'll do if she finds us together," he says, looking down at his hands. He tries to think about Theo being banned from his house, about never being able to fall asleep beside him again. He's been spoiled, he knows it logically, getting to sneak Theo in and out of his bedroom for so long uninterrupted, but he should've known it couldn't last. "She might ask you to leave."
"I'll sleep under the bed."
"I'm serious, Theo." His mom isn't so much strict as she is stubborn. If Theo makes an effort to get to know her and David, he'll be golden, but if he doesn’t…Liam doesn't want to entertain the thought. "Just once, is all I'm asking. You don't have to come over every Saturday or anything, but if she catches you sneaking in it's not gonna be pretty."
Theo sighs and says nothing, just taps his finger on the wheel arrhythmically in lieu of a response, and Liam huffs. It's a dismissal, plain and simple. Just once, he wishes Theo didn't have such incredible dedication to evading certain confrontations, especially in moments like these.
The rest of the ride, short as it is, is quiet. Liam's more tired than anything, but he can't imagine that he's going to get even a wink of sleep tonight, not with the thought that Theo might never be there next to him again. He doesn't know what Theo's aversion is, exactly, but he knows the chimera isn't the family type, much less a 'meet the parents' type. Still, he'd thought that the idea of being banned from Liam's house might motivate Theo to do…something, at least.
The truck's engine remains running when they stop in front of Liam's house, and his stomach sinks deeper and deeper, a hot little ball of disappointment sticking in his throat to match. Liam gets out slowly, taking his time with it, as much as he knows how little of a difference it'll make.
Just as he's about to resign himself to walking all the way up the driveway alone, Theo rolls down his window. It's a clear invitation, and Liam perks up, hopes he doesn’t look too much like an eager puppy.
"Don't look so mopey," Theo admonishes when Liam leans into the open window, resting both forearms against it. "Your mom's gonna be suspicious otherwise."
"Will you at least think about it?" He's not above begging, apparently. Then again, the sanctity of Liam ever getting a good night's rest again is at stake, so maybe this is just self preservation.
Theo thumbs once under Liam's chin and smiles, just this side of condescending. Liam scowls, trying not to lean too heavily into the touch. "You that worried you'll never see me again?" he asks, gently mocking. "Didn't think you'd hate the idea of getting your bed back."
"I'd hate it a lot less if you came inside," Liam says, a last ditch attempt. "If you don't I'll just think about it all night, and--"
"Drama queen," Theo accuses. "You'll be fine, just like always."
Fine isn't good enough, not even close, not when Liam knows what it's like to have something a million times better wrapped around him on any given night of the week. Fine stopped being enough sometime after Theo showed back up in Liam's life, invited or not, and he's not certain he could ever go back if he tried.
"Only 'cause I know you'll come back," he protests. "Look, I know I'm being stupid, but if things really are getting bad again then I don't want to be alone and with the Supermoon coming up again I don't trust myself not to--"
Theo cuts him off, some of the easy fondness in face dissipating, replaced by something harder. "If the Supermoon is coming up, that's just one more reason to keep my distance. It's better that you don't--"
"Liam?" This time, it's Theo who's interrupted in the middle of a sentence, and Liam glances back in the direction of the sound. It's his mother, standing on the porch in pajama pants and a robe, in clear view of Liam all but diving headfirst right back into Theo's car through the window.
"What's going on out here?" she asks, and Liam hears Theo's heart thump in anticipation when she leaves the porch, heading in their direction.
Liam sees Theo reach for the gearshift, as if to move the car back into drive, and Liam panics, reaches for his arm.
"Don't," he pleads, knowing he's playing with fire just by trying to hold Theo back. "It's just my mom. She doesn't bite, I promise."
Theo gives him a blank stare, fingers still clenched around the gearshift, but he doesn't try to elbow Liam away and make a break for it. He's stiff, like a trapped animal beneath Liam's hand, and that's how Liam's mom finds them not ten seconds later, once she's close enough to see Theo's face clearly.
"Oh," she says, surprised when she gets a better look. "Liam, is this--is this your Theo?"
Scratch his earlier decision, there is absolutely no better metaphor than sinking through the earth to describe what Liam wants to do right now. Theo's shoulder relaxes ever so slightly, though his scent remains riddled with uncertainty, and even through the haze of his embarrassment, Liam can see him hand paste a smile onto his face.
"Guilty as charged, ma'am," he replies, and Liam looks at him in--badly concealed--horror. "I was just bringing Liam home from Scott's."
His mother hardly looks surprised, crossing her arms and fixing Liam with a look. "So you're a friend of Scott's too?" she asks. Liam imagines she's going to skin him alive for even trying to pass off the narrative of Theo being shy.
"Oh yeah," Theo nods, not even glancing at Liam. "We go way back. Grade school and all that."
"Liam made it sound like you were new in town," Jenna notes, the severity of her mom-glare in Liam's direction not weakening whatsoever. "You must be Scott's age at least. How did you two meet?"
"I'm nineteen," Theo says good-naturedly, when it's clear Liam's still too stupefied to answer at all. "We met when I moved back to town last year but we…didn't exactly get along at first."
"Fascinating." Jenna says, and Liam gulps. He knows that tone of voice. "I suppose you don't mind my asking how events like those led to you spending so many nights in my son's room?"
If Theo's caught off guard, he's remarkably good at hiding it, which, okay--just because he's not foaming-at-the-mouth levels of crazy anymore obviously doesn't mean he's lost his ability to lie, but it is kind of concerning. Liam watches him flush almost prettily, cheeks and neck going pink right there in front of Liam's mother. Obscene is what it is, and Liam contemplates crawling under Theo's truck and praying to be run over without preamble.
"I didn't mean any harm," he replies with perfectly measured shame. It's a little scary, how remorseful he looks. "I might've gotten a little in over my head, but ever since Liam and I started talking, I just can't…stay away."
He meets Liam's eyes as he says it, and Liam can't help it: he knows he's gaping like a fish. Theo seems to notice, his green eyes going visibly sinister for all of a second, and then they're back to docile, blinking big and sweet at Liam's unsuspecting mother.
"Liam," she says, too pleasant and measured to be anything but life-threatening, or at least threatening to Liam's future social life. "If you wanted to bring your boyfriend around, you could've just been honest with us. There was no need to hide."
Liam is going to kill Theo. Actually kill. With a capital 'K' and everything. He's going to lure Theo into his bedroom and suffocate him with a pillow when he's least expecting it, and Liam won't even be in the wrong when he does.
"We were figuring things out," he says lamely, unable to think of a better excuse. "It's only been a few days since we--uh, talked about it. I didn't want to jump the gun or anything."
"I haven’t even taken him on a real date yet," Theo says, half-laughing. "No matter where I suggest we go, he always complains."
"I do not," Liam retorts, unable to stop himself. "It's not my fault all the places you pick are weird."
"There are foods out there other than chicken nuggets, Liam," Theo says with a patient smile. It's horrendous to look at. "You should try a vegetable sometime, you might like it."
"I appreciate you trying to broaden the horizons of my son's diet," Jenna cuts in, sounding amused. "I've been trying for almost eighteen years with no luck, but feel free to give it a shot."
"Mom," Liam hisses, mortified. Is no one on his side? Is Theo really going to band together with everyone in Liam's life just to make him crazy? Is this his new evil plan?
"Are you planning on staying the night tonight?" she asks Theo, completely ignoring Liam yet again. "I don't mind you visiting Liam, so long as there's no funny business going on in my house."
"Mom!" He regrets ever deciding to befriend Theo, even ironically. This is all his fault, and probably his plan from the beginning, if the diabolical curve to his grin is any indication. His mom can't see it, but Liam can. He'd know that expression anywhere.
"You know," Theo begins, smile growing on his face like a widening stain, "if it's alright with you, I think I might, actually. And we'll keep it PG, you have my word." He actually goes as far as crossing his heart, which is enough to make Liam seriously consider asking his stepdad how concerning heart palpitations in your teens actually are.
"Lovely," Jenna smiles right back, clearly enamored with Theo already, because Liam was wrong and he's definitely still evil. "Come inside whenever you're ready--I'm making chai tea."
"Oh, I love chai," Theo replies, turning off the car, and it's a testament to Liam's bone deep maturity that he waits until his mother's gone inside before he tries to kill Theo outright.
-.-
"You are the bane of my existence," Liam snaps, flopping face first onto his bed as Theo trails him, shutting the door behind them. "I can't believe you made me lie to my mother about the two of us being in love."
"Would you rather me have told her the truth?" Theo asks. "I can't imagine giving her a thorough rundown of my rap sheet would've yielded similar results."
Theo is truly out of touch with reality if he thinks backing Liam into a metaphorical corner like this was the least painful option available to them. Besides, this is Liam's house. Theo gets to leave whenever he wants. He doesn't have to put up with parents asking questions left and right until Liam ponies up a semi-satisfactory answer. "Yeah, but no one said you had to convince her you were my boyfriend!"
"It won't kill you to pretend to like me every once in awhile." Theo doesn't sound the least bit bothered, not even now that they're alone. "Besides, it’s not like I'm gonna try to kiss you with an audience or anything."
"You called me sweetheart," Liam seethes, resisting the urge to bite into the pillow with his teeth, "in front of my mother."
Theo just scoffs, leaning against Liam's dresser. He looks far too casual for someone who's just lied his way through a half hour of drinking tea with Liam's mom. "She thought it was cute," he says, eyeing Liam with amusement. "She thought we were cute."
"I'm gonna kill you in your sleep."
Theo actually laughs. "Yeah?" The mocking grows in intensity, until every word is tinged with it. "And here I thought you were just trying to climb into my skin at night."
"That's called hugging, asshole," Liam reminds him, glaring at him with one eye. "And you've lost the privilege of acting like I'm the creepy one after your performance tonight. Sorry not sorry."
"Does that mean I'm actually gonna have to sleep under the bed?" Theo sways forward, tugging his jacket off and draping it over the chair by Liam's desk. Liam watches him as he approaches, warm in the cheeks as he recalls Theo's words from just minutes prior, by the car: We'll keep it PG.
"I'm thinking about it," Liam mumbles, trying helplessly to maintain his grumpiness, but it's hard to think about anything other than Theo when he's this close. He smells so good Liam thinks it might be killing his brain cells, kind of like sniffing scented Sharpies. "I should, honestly."
Theo bends down, bumps his forehead against the side of Liam's, where his face is still buried in the crease of the pillow, as if to say 'pay attention to me', and Liam does, of course, because of how quickly his brain is leaking out through his ears. He turns, just enough that their noses brush and just like that, Liam's heart takes off running, sprinting away cartoon fast. He thinks if someone took a picture of him right now, it'd be popping out of his chest comically just like in the old Looney Toons shorts.
He's listening to Theo's too before he can stop himself, and the sound of it syncing up with his, equally jittery and nervous in Theo's chest makes Liam bite his lip, unsure.
"You worry too much," Theo says, too quiet to be accusatory. "No matter what would've happened, I had it handled." His breath is warm against Liam's mouth, smelling faintly of chai and Liam isn't certain he's successful at repressing the shudder that nearly swallows him whole.
I don't want to lose you, he thinks, because Theo is an ass and still enough of a wild card to keep Liam on his toes but at the end of the day it's Liam's bed he keeps coming back to and that's--well, it's theirs, whatever it is.
"Forgive me for thinking something might go wrong," he mutters, gripping weakly at Theo's shirtsleeve. The angle isn't the best, but he wants to pull Theo down and bury his face in his neck until the world disappears. "I thought you were okay with the idea of staying away."
Theo makes a displeased noise, rubbing his cheek against Liam's until he can settle his own face between Liam's neck and shoulder. It moves their mouths further apart, and Liam's not sure whether to rejoice or cry at the increase in distance so abruptly.
"Don't be stupid," he murmurs back, the heat of his words more potent, trapped against Liam's skin. "I doubt anyone else would let me get away with this." He goes quiet for a moment, the two of them just breathing, and then Liam can feel a smile curve against his cheek. "Sweetheart."
Liam shoves him immediately, the burning in his face so potent he's worried his eyes might've shifted to match. Theo just laughs, hardly stumbling as he crash lands on the bed, narrowly missing Liam's hip by half an inch. Liam ignores him, buries his face back into the pillow as Theo crawls around him, kicking off his shoes and jeans and settling onto the mattress.
There's another moment of rustling, and then Liam feels him rest his cheek on the back of Liam's neck, just between his shoulder-blades. He can tell when Theo sighs, any residual tension from the events of the evening draining out of him like water from a sieve.
"At least you got your wish after all," he says, softer than before, slinging one arm across Liam's back. "Guess I get to keep coming around."
He hasn't overlooked that part, not really. Despite the less than conventional way Theo's introduction to one half of Liam's family had gone, and the way his mom seems to think they're honest to god dating, tonight still feels like something of a victory. If the witches turn out to be real and more wolves keep turning up dead, Liam doesn't want to think about how poorly things might've gone for him at home if Theo had stopped turning up.
Moreover, it means he may still have a chance at convincing Theo to stick around during the Supermoon, just in case. He's not sure how to broach the subject, not with how Theo had withdrawn so quickly at the mere mention of it earlier, but Liam's nothing if not determined.
"I'll need you here," he admits, hoping not to alarm Theo into overthinking anything. "Next week, and everything. You know."
Liam can smell the discomfort like sour breath, and Theo stiffens noticeably. "You need your friends," he replies after a long moment of silence. "You'll need Scott if you need anyone at all."
Liam frowns. "Theo," he begins. He knows Theo has trust issues as much as the rest of them, but Liam thinks that somedays the person Theo trusts least is himself. The thought is bitter in its familiarity.
Theo doesn’t let him speak. "I'm serious," he says. Liam feels him draw away as quickly as he'd cuddled up, and Liam feels abruptly cold. "The only way to handle this is to eliminate as many unknown variables as possible, which means you need to either be here, in bed and sleeping it off, or with your Alpha."
Liam sits up, watches the way Theo curls into himself, face tight. He doesn't look at Liam, just stares at the wall across from them, and Liam wonders exactly what he's afraid of.
"It's not about what I'm afraid of," Theo mutters. Liam realizes he'd spoken aloud, typical of his stupid brain to mouth filter that's faulty even on good days, and virtually nonexistent whenever it’s just the two of them. More of Theo's influence, he decides, but not something particularly inadmissible.
"Then what's the problem?" Theo drives him crazy, yeah, but not that kind of crazy. Not anymore. "I don't get it."
Theo just shakes his head. "You can’t possibly be that dense," he says, dark eyes hard when they finally deign to meet his. "It's not about what I want, Liam, it's about being careful. We've talked about this."
Liam bristles. "The hell we have," he retorts. There's so much going on behind those eyes, and some days Liam wonders if he'll ever be able to do more than scrape the surface, wonders if Theo will even let him.
"Did you think I was pulling your leg before?" Theo demands, even though Liam's got no goddamn clue what imaginary conversation he's referring to. "You can’t just rush headfirst into these kinds of things without thinking about it first. Hoping it'll all work out isn’t going to solve the problem."
"I have thought about it." He has. He's thought about it for days, hell, since Theo had come to him that night after the War had ended, the thought has been there: you make it different. "I've decided. I want you there."
Theo doesn’t look quelled, if anything, he looks more distressed than before. "You don't know how that'll turn out," he says. "And besides, even if this wasn't such a…sensitive situation, bringing me along isn't the solution."
"What do you think is gonna happen?" Liam demands, stung. He has no idea what Theo's getting at, or why he's so determined to deny that he can help. "Do you think I'll take one look at you when the moon comes out and just…remember?"
Theo's gaze goes flinty, shuttered at the spoken reminder of last year, of the idea of history repeating itself.
Liam's not stupid, and he knows Theo's not stupid either. Things are different than they were, that danger is gone, the deceit is a thing of the past, and he'd thought--he'd hoped--that Theo had trusted him enough to let him decide.
"It's not like I ever forgot," Liam says, sees Theo flinch visibly, swallows back the guilt. "I know what you did and I still asked you to stay, Theo. Doesn't that count for anything?"
Theo is silent. His scent is a blank slate, wiped clean of anything but the too-wrong feeling that something's been bleached away, like the chemical stench that follows scrubbing blood out of the carpet.
"It doesn't matter if that's--if maybe I'm the problem or maybe I'm not," Theo tells him. His voice lowers, and there's a fine tremor in it, a hairline fracture in the rigidity of his words. "The point is that I'm not the solution."
Liam's eyes prick with stupid--stupid tears, hot and insistent and he blinks, furious. He wants to shake Theo, put both his hands on those broad shoulders and shake him until something comes loose, whatever it is that makes him such a self-deprecating, cryptic, infuriating bastard of a person.
"You're fucking unbearable," he says, hears the crack in his voice and lets himself sink into it. The mattress creaks when he flops back onto it, the pillowcase cool against his cheek. His whole face feels hot.
Theo laughs, but it's not a happy sound. "Guess you forgot about that part," he murmurs.
"Trust me," Liam says. "I didn't."
He's looking up at the ceiling, but he can still see when Theo stands. The movement kickstarts Liam's heart into high gear, pounding away as he watches Theo distance himself physically.
"I should go." He'd known it was coming, had been prepared for it, but it doesn't stop the knee jerk reaction that follows. It's Pavlovian, and Liam is one hundred percent the salivating dog in this scenario.
"I thought you were staying," he presses, knows he's being contrary for the sake of it, and decides he doesn’t care. "You said you would."
"You don't want me here." Theo says it like it's something universally agreed upon, like he thinks Liam just fucks around and begs him to stay but means the opposite, somehow.
"You're fucking stupid." He slings an arm across his face, resists the urge to bite it because it's there, convenient and everything. "You're fucking touched in the head, oh my god, do you think I'm some kind of liar?"
"I think," Theo says, slow and measured, "that the rose colored glasses might be on just a little too tight."
"Oh fuck you," Liam replies, both hands hitting the comforter with an audible plop. "Get over yourself. I know what I want and what I want is you, lying here and taking up all the space in my fucking bed because you have no manners and slobbering all over me like an idiot dog."
"Hell of a way to get into my pants," Theo retorts, sounding hoarse. "I didn't think you were into slobbering, but the name calling thing…"
"Shut the fuck up," Liam says, rolls off of the mattress and stomps over to where Theo's standing halfway between the door and the bed. "You're staying and we're going to lie awake and do…whatever until we can't keep our eyes open anymore, and then we're going to go to sleep. Just like we always do. No angst, no bullshit. Capisce?"
Theo looks at him, first at Liam's face, then at the hand fisted in his shirt. Then he sighs.
"No one says 'capisce' anymore. You know that, right?"
Liam grins, presses his fingers a little more firmly to Theo's chest--it's a very, very nice chest, okay? Sue him--and leans in so close their noses almost brush.
"Bite me," he says.
They don't talk about any of it for the rest of the night, not the hunters or the indeterminate involvement of witches, not the moon or whatever bullshit guilt complex Theo has going on. They play video games and sneak soda from the fridge downstairs until nearly two AM, and then Liam gives in, tugs them both under the covers and makes the executive decision to call it a night.
"Will you at least say goodbye?" he asks once they're settled in, resting his chin against Theo's hair. "Before you leave in the morning?"
Theo makes an amused sound, his fingertips gentle on Liam's chest as they splay outward over top of the fabric of his shirt. "Upset I don't ever give you a goodbye kiss before I go?"
Liam pinches him. "I'm serious," he says. "Just…it's disorienting, okay?"
"Disorienting how?" Theo asks, fingers tapping out a silent rhythm to something Liam can't identify. "It's your bed."
Liam swallows, tightening his arm around Theo's waist. "Sometimes I wake up and I--I think you're still there," he admits. "Everything smells like you and I forget for a moment, that's all."
Theo hums quietly, thumb sliding upwards to trace along Liam's collarbone, through the beginnings of the hair growing thickly on his chest.
"Sorry to disappoint," he answers, blanched. Liam takes a deep breath.
"Please," he asks again, fingers curling around Theo's hip. "Please. I swear I won't get mad if you wake me up. I won't even try to bite you."
Theo snorts. "Yeah, you will," he replies, then softer. "I'll try, okay?"
Liam thinks about getting Theo under him, about what he would do if Liam pressed him into the mattress and kissed him senseless right there in Liam's bed. The urge is white hot and blade sharp in its intensity, dangerous by the nature of its very existence. Theo has no idea how much Liam really, really wants to bite him. Multiple times. Preferably while he's trembling between the sheets with Liam's fingers or maybe even his dick inside him.
It's not the first time he's had the thoughts, and it probably won't be the last, but Liam's clearheaded enough to know that Theo doesn't come to him for that, likely never will. They're good like this--together without being together--it would be Liam's own fault if he went and ruined it.
He settles for a compromise, wriggling in Theo's arms until he can climb on top of him and curl up, content. Theo doesn't fight him, just makes another derisive noise like Liam's being ridiculous, but he tangles their legs together and says nothing more on it.
Liam falls asleep like that, warm and comforted and hoping, hoping, hoping.