#theo would definitely buy clothes for himself but make sure they look good on liam too

[outcastpack]

[wolfeyeslonelynights]

Strip Club Fin.

“Mason, I cant decide if I am even shocked anymore at you finding these kind of places or if I’m starting to be impressed.”

The current place Liam was staring at was a replica of some famous bar in New York. Gaudy neon lights flashing yellow, blue and pink overhead just dirty enough to seem fabricated as if to appear run down. Not that it needed a lot of help; the outside looked like the exact place one would go to see people dancing on bars and getting rip roaring drunk. Also possibly a STD. He wasn’t even sure how he got roped into going except Theo perked up at the idea when Mason had mentioned going there for Corey’s birthday.

“I’m more impressed that he found a guys night that actually meant gay night.” Theo was pressed close to Liam’s side. They weren’t necessarily a couple that did a lot of pda, but the personal space was pretty much nonexistent nowadays. He watched Corey and Mason’s faces both develop grins that looked positively devious.

“Well we figured we would never go to New York because that cost money we will never have but we could at least get some kind of Coyote Ugly style bar under our belts.”

Liam muttered “That’s not the only thing you want under your belt.” Causing Theo to throw back his head, laughing. It was a good look. Corey pouted at him.

“Theo said dancing on a bar was on his bucket list.”

A year ago this would have caused shocked sputtering and a flash of possessiveness that both boys had been startled to find themselves having after becoming more unofficially official. Starting off with them using public moments of debauchery to get together to suddenly having almost all their debauchery being intimate moments that were behind closed doors. Which were surprisingly not so purposefully sexy and more fun. It wasn’t any less intense but more so.

The vulnerability of being alone, clothes off, and suddenly the eye contact felt a lot more real. A lot more authentic. Especially when they tried for the first time and Liam was so nervous he started to giggle at the wrong moment, at the wrong reveal, which led to an outraged Theo. Which led to more inappropriate giggling. Which somehow led to a tickle fight that led to something much different and more natural but that time without the nerves. Liam was surprised at Theo’s fierce gentleness. At how he wanted to be as gentle towards the chimera.

Or the fact that after they slept together for the first time, literally just falling asleep curled around each other, that Theo had almost tore a poor fast food worker’s head off when he smiled at Liam when he took their money. Through a drive thru. Or Liam suddenly showing up to Theo’s work to shove him against the truck and leave bruising bites on his neck and shoulders that took hours to heal; although those seemed to worry his co workers more about rabid animals than rabid people. Theo teased that it didn’t matter because Liam fit both categories. The chimera thought he was funny.

Now though, with time and building a different kind of trust, Liam only felt the urge to roll his eyes - which he did - before giving Theo side eye.

“Is prostitution is on that list too? Because I’m not sure I’d be surprised.”

Theo’s response was a wicked grin, hard body pressing closer so he could whisper against the shell of Liam’s ear, “If you’d like, I’ll let you pay me for what I’m going to do to you later?” Leaning away leaving skin pebbling and Liam forcing down shiver, Theo continued in a louder voice, “I’ll even make it cheap for you. How does a twenty sound?”

Corey laughed so hard he started snorting, causing them all to break into laughter that made the people surrounding them question their general maturity level. Liam laughed but was caught between the teasing heat and embarrassment at the memory.

“Yeah, yeah, cheapest lap dance in history though the lap dance didn’t even happen. My life sucks. My dude is cheap. Let’s get on with this bucket list birthday shindig.” He started away from his friends, leading the way until Theo caught up with an exasperatedly amused expression

“Your dude? Really dude?”

Liam hunched his shoulders and grumbled “I refuse to say boyfriend. You refuse to say partner. Leaves few options dude.”

Pushing the door open, Theo let Mason and Corey push ahead first, looking at Liam silently. He refused to look back. Truth, this has been a thing between them for a while now, since his mom finally broke the unspoken rule of not speaking about their unspoken of status. After recovering from the horror of hearing Jenna Geyer say “Is it like one of those buddy systems? Except less about safety, although I hope you are using safety Liam really, and more about … buddying?” Liam has hastily reassured her that, dear god, it was an actual relationship while Theo had been trying unsuccessfully not to crack a rib from holding back laughter.

This has led to her turning towards Theo with a sweet smile and saying “I’m really glad you’re his boyfriend Theo.” This had been taken two different ways. The chimera had frozen, eyes wide at hearing the sincerity in Liam’s mom’s voice and feeling inadequate at all accounts. Liam was ruining the moment with a loud “Not boyfriend! No! Refuse it. Title rejected.” and receiving twin murderous glares from the two.

When she much more hesitantly suggested the term partner Theo had been the one to sneer rudely with a resounding negative before taking off for the night. Liam knew he had hurt the man’s feelings but wasn’t going to budge. After that night none of the people involved had mentioned it again. She must have said something to Mason because neither of his friends broached the subject. He thought it was over, swept under the metaphoric carpet.

But it was creeping up, in small moments, and Liam knew he was going to have to grow up about it at some point.

Not in a damn dancing bar though.

Letting the moment go Liam walked into the bar. Instant regret flared through him as the overwhelming noise of too many voices and too loud of shitty music hit his ears. Flinching from the pain, he automatically took a step backwards, forgetting that Theo had walked through behind him. The chimera’s hands caught him before they crashed together, holding steady when Liam didn’t immediately step away. He took the slight touch to focus on, reigning in the noise until it was manageable again. Once Liam felt capable again he glanced back at Theo watching. As soon as their eyes met Theo dropped his hands away, nodding towards the spot at the bar Mason and Corey had miraculously gotten.

Liam didn’t like the distance in that break of contact, reaching out to slide a finger along the tendon of Theo’s wrist. Letting the tip of his index finger linger Liam started the fight through the crowd, the slight touch never breaking as Theo easily maneuvered through people to keep them connected. He hid a smile at the sheer will power of keeping them together when he reached the other two.

“Guys! We just sold Theo!”

This was accompanied by the two shoving overflowing shot glasses into Liam and Theo’s hands before excitedly shooting back their own. As if Corey could get drunk. If they were starting like this Mason wouldn’t even last three hours before they were going to have to drag him to a diner to sober up. Liam took a dainty sip of the shot, switching hands so he could wipe some of the sticky alcohol off.

Theo raised a brow, “I didn’t realize I was for sale?”

This was followed by him tossing the liquid back like a pro, face not even registering the burn as he caught the eye of someone behind the counter and motioned for another round. Liam took another delicate sip. Maybe it was because of the early fear of losing more control with his IED if drunk, maybe it’s because he was a werewolf and now immune, or maybe he just really didn’t like the taste. Usually he sipped a shot during the night, letting the others fight over the rounds they kept buying him.

Corey grinned slyly, a brave hand reaching out to ruffle the part of Theo’s hair that fell over his eyes, “Happy bucket list.” Liam frowned while Mason cackled. Devious monsters. Theo just raised the other brow.

“You mean happy birthday to you?”

The other chimera laughed, “Maybe? They have bar dance slots for later and you can buy one. I bought one song.”

Theo laughed now, reaching over take the new shots from the attractive young woman at the counter with a wink, distributing them out. Liam held it in his other hand while he frowned. A wink, really? Was tonight going to one of those. Instead of pouting at the slight he turned away.

“Do you get to pick the song?”

He waited while they all shot back the new one, automatically holding out both of his for Corey and Mason to take, waiting as they drank those down also before he got an answer.

“No, it’s a decided playlist, a tradition I think. They have the list over there on that wall,” he pointed across the room almost poking a older man in the eye, “I chose the seven o’clock one.” Then he and Mason were calling for another round. Theo helping out when they were getting ignored, simply waving a hand and raising his voice - the woman from earlier appearing as if by magic.

Not feeling jealous but definitely sulky, Liam turned away from the friendly grin Theo was wearing as he asked for more drinks, slipping away into the crowd. There was infinite trust between them, but they weren’t perfect. Stupid relationship titles. As if having one suddenly made the world go round. As if it meant feelings were real and permanent.

Whatever.

Mostly letting the wave of the people move him along, Liam slowly made his way to the wall that Corey had pointed out. When he got there he was almost squished against it. A huge portion covered with chalk board paint - pink and blue chalk used for the song line up. Using some wolf in his arms to push himself far enough away, Liam tilted his head until he found the seven time slot.

Oh god, was it bad that he knew that song or that he knew how Theo was probably going to dance to it? It was a stripping song. At least it was when Theo had turned it on one night that they were hanging out in his studio apartment. It had meant to be background music as they tried to make pizza from scratch.

It had turned into strip tease music.

Liam had ended up delightfully covered in flour, red sauce, and other sauce.

Fighting back a groan of despair he turned away from the board only to have his path blocked by a body. A tall body. Looking up Liam met eyes bluer than his, light enough to take “icy blue” to a new level; made more astounding by the fringe of black lashes and Beatle’s mop of black hair. How unfortunately attractive.

“Were you thinking of buying a dance slot?” How unfortunately attractive his voice was too. Liam felt a pang at the fact that all the hotness did zilch to his body.

It sucked when he really only became attached to someone after he established a relationship of some kind with them. It put a damper on the whole ‘one night stand’ thing and it made the whole ‘what am I actually attracted to gender wise’ ordeal a more difficult process. At least until he reached the age when he realized it didn’t matter because until they had a connection with him of some kind it was a mute point anyway.

Liam simply didn’t work any other way.

Smiling neutrally Liam shook his head “No, a friend bought one and I was just curious of the song is all.”

This was met with a grin “Are you all going to dance or just the friend? I hear the dance slots get pretty crazy.” Liam was almost hundred percent sure some crazy was going to happen at seven at least. Theo was too much of a showman to not do something horrendously shocking.

“No dancing for me.”

Seeing that he was trapped here until someone moved or he got irritated enough to start shoving people and not really wanting to go back to a winking Theo, Liam relaxed against the wall. This seemed to be taken as an invitation because the tall handsome guy was suddenly leaning on a shoulder against it, facing him; still a polite distance away to not be pushy but obvious interest evident in his expression.

“Not a dancer huh?”

Liam laughed a little at that, “No I dance, just not going to try the whole bar counter dancing tonight. I’m just here as the DD.” Then because he was stuck and bored he asked, “What about you?”

The smile widened, as if asking a simple question was a confirmation in interest.

“My kind of dancing is more for behind doors.” This was followed with an almost self conscious eye brow waggle that had Liam snorting with an attempted to hide his laughter.

“Does that mean you are a stripper?” When all he got was a dramatic wink, Liam could only laugh harder. Of course. Of course it’d be a stripper. There was pause as the man took a long drink out of his glass, the smell of bitter beer reaching Liam with the new close proximity before he spoke.

“I’m Daniel by the way.” Liam nodded in greeting, eyes down on a finger nail he was picking at, “Liam.” This was followed by another shorter drink pause.

“Would it bother you? To date a stripper?” At this Liam looked up to grin widely, opening his mouth to answer when a new voice rudely interrupted.

“If it does, how we got together is going to become an even more awkward story.”

Theo’s expression was pleasant, the charming mask that gets bar maids to get appear out of thin air. Even his tone was easy going and smooth. Liam, though, could see the tension as hazel eyes flickered at the distance between him and this Daniel guy.  The taller man didn’t move away from Liam as suddenly as one would expect when confronted with a possible significant other. Instead he slowly took in Theo in all of his Theo glory. Seeing this taking of inventory, Liam saw Theo open his mouth and jumped in before something rude was said.

“You weren’t even a stripper when that happened.”

Theo looked shocked, mockingly placing a hand on his chest as the constantly moving crowd pushed him closer towards them. Liam felt a little trapped between the two.

“How can you say that? I thought it all started with a twenty dollar private bare-all lap dance Liam!” At this several heads turned to take the two of them in; Daniel’s face was a bit scandalize, “You only paid him twenty dollars! That’s insultingly cheap!”

Definitely feeling trapped Liam scowled at them both, “It was all I had and we weren’t together because of that!”

Theo smirked at the heat flaring over Liam’s cheeks. Daniel seemed stuck though, draining his glass before pointing at him. His cheeks were even redder.

“Were you the stripper? Because I’d be okay with that.”

Liam squinted, thinking something was misinterpreted and not sure where. “I wasn’t the stripper but thanks I guess?” This was also the wrong reply because the man was suddenly leaning towards Liam’s space, face intent.

Only to scramble backwards when Theo easily slid between them. It was insane how smooth he made it look, smile more sharp than easy as he folded his arms across his chest like some thug body guard.

“Nope, my puppy was most definitely not the stripper.” Liam’s face spasmed in an ugly grimace at the term, muttering “Your puppy?”

Before Theo could do more than grin, Daniel was leaning forward so he could look at both of them, “Wait, I thought you guys were, like, in the past tense stage.” Liam could feel the hard look the chimera was giving him even as he was rapidly shaking his head.

“I never said anything!” He knew that if this kept going where it was going, as most cliche moments tended to go, the night out was going to end with hurt feelings and a misunderstanding that was going to ruin the ‘what I plan to do to you later’ that Liam refused to miss because of a drunk stripper. Reaching out he clutched Theo’s shirt in a hand.

“This is totally my person.”

Daniel’s brow furrowed, “Like your boyfriend?” When Liam glared he tried again “Partner?” when that got a resounding no he just looked at them “Fuck buddy?”

Theo sighed loudly, “Look it doesn’t matter, he is not available and neither am I. So just go get another drink.” Then he was shoving Liam, hard, through the crowd presumably towards their friends. Liam let himself get pushed until they were back next to a much more drunk Mason and a sober but giggling Corey.

“Guys, the dancing starts soon!”

Ignoring the surrounding cheers at Mason’s shout, Liam turned to see Theo frowning at him.

“What?” He knew of course, but having the discussion here in a crowded smelly bar was far from ideal. Theo’s hand was still between his shoulder blades, sliding down his spine before the tips of his fingers curl over the top of his jeans. Using the hold, he pulled Liam back against him to hiss  “Past tense? Your person? I’m trying real hard here Dunbar, to not get irritated.”

Squirming like a caught child, Liam wiggled until the hot fingers retracted their grip, allowing him to turn around to look at the chimera. Who was frowning at him.

“Look, is this the best place to have this conversation?” When that only got him narrowed eyes he sighed heavily “It’s just that they all sound so..” unable to find the word he shrugged.

“Committed? Too exclusive?” Theo’s words were sharply hissed, almost lost in the raised noise as the first dance slot started. It was almost funny, if not for the hurt the chimera was trying to hide, that they were having a relationship moment while “Sweet Cherry Pie” was roaring all around them. Neither of them took notice of the super drunk  guy getting helped onto the cleared bar counter.

Running a hand through his hair while trying to think of the words, Liam took the moment to grab Theo’s wrist and shove their way through the crowd until they were in a relatively empty corner. Breathing a little easier at not having so many bodies constantly jostling into them. Keeping his hold on the chimera, Liam pressed close so that he didn’t have to shout.

“How about not exclusive enough?” When he saw Theo’s eyes widen - mouth dropping open a little - he continued almost brutally, “How about nothing seems permanent enough or accurate enough? Why does a title even matter Theo, when we both know that it changes nothing. We still feel the way we feel and saying boyfriend or whatever isn’t going to change that. Fuck man, if it makes you happy then yeah..yeah, just say whatever you want okay? I’ll roll with it.”

He hadn’t realized how much closer he had gotten until he stopped talking; lips almost brushing, his fist clutching the side of Theo’s shirt tight enough to stretch the material. Liam felt angry; at having to explain himself, at where he had to do it, at stupid drunk Daniel who had to be a stripper.

Now, as the song ended and the bar occupants burst into applause, Liam lifted a lip in a silent snarl before yanking Theo into a bruising kiss. Who responded instantly, arms wrapping around Liam’s waist in a tight grip, head tilting for better access.

It only ended when Corey appeared, red faced and grinning manically “Theo you’re up! Make out later!” then pulling them apart, dragging them both back towards the bar where Mason was excitedly shouting words that made no sense. Liam painfully hit the counter as the two practically threw the chimera up onto the makeshift stage. In the corner behind, a older woman was doing an announcement for the next song.

Mason slung an arm around Liam’s shoulders, shouting painfully into his ear “Is this not the best ever!”

Gently shoving his friend into his boyfriends waiting arms, Liam turned back to watch as Theo slowly stood up; the simple action of his body straightening up receiving a ridiculously loud response from the crowd. He rolled his eyes, the reaction people got when Theo decided to be ‘on’ was stupid. If only they knew that he slept with his socks on no matter what. And that a lot of them had animal designs on them.

Even on the night of their pizza making attempt Theo had been wearing purple socks with kangaroos on them. Boxing kangaroos. As in they were wearing boxing gloves. Liam snorted at the memory.

As if hearing his thoughts, the chimera looked at him as Def Leppard blared out into the crowd. A slow smirk, lips looking just a tad too puffy to be natural, formed as the singing started.

As if a switched a flipped, Theo eased his way down the bar, feet smooth as he pulled out some cash and bent over - his backside purposefully towards the approving crowd - as he whispered something to a bartender. She grinned and went to get something as he spun around.

Even now Liam felt his throat get thick as Theo danced on the bar. It wasn’t as erotic as usual; movements kept quick and short with the small width of the counter. Still, as the song hit its peak the crowd was in full scream and the chimera used a side slide to end up in front of some ecstatic men - a hip thrust towards their faces enough to send them into liquor fueled hysterics as the former stripper grinned wickedly and crawled away.

Liam watched as Theo used the position to reach the end of the bar - somehow avoiding a few brave soul’s spanking hands - before standing up. Using a couple feet at the end of the bar short running before sliding forward on his knees just as the woman thrust out two bottles of alcohol.

Just as he reached where they were at in the counter line, thumbs covering the tops of the bottles, Theo met Liam’s eyes.

And blew him a kiss.

Before aggressively shaking the bottles and aiming the openings at them. He had to give it Theo, Liam thought distantly as his, Corey, and Mason’s along with several surrounding people faces were sprayed with alcohol just as the final “Pour some sugar on me!” rang out through the air. Theo knew how to finish with a bang.

As the song ended and there were shouts of ‘encore’ and ‘one more time’ Liam kept his eyes slitted as the liquid dripped down his face. Next to him Corey and Mason were basking in the glow of having gotten the ‘final’ moment from a performer. Watching as the chimera thanked the bartender for helping before walking over and sliding off the counter in front of him. There were more cat calls, and someone nearby even reached out to touch the chimera; something Liam easily blocked with a swat.

Theo didn’t notice though; he was entirely focused on Liam, as if he hadn’t just spent the last three minutes dancing on a counter for room full of gay men. As if he wasn’t still the sole attention of several of those men. Nope, Liam watched as Theo reached him, hands coming up so that his thumbs could gently wipe the alcohol from Liam’s eyes. It was a tender gesture; something that wasn’t usually done in public.

When they were mostly clear he opened them up more to see a soft smile on the chimera’s face, hands sliding down to rest on Liam’s shoulders. It was a nice moment, almost romantic movie style, until the softness melted into deviance that caused panic to burst in Liam’s chest.

Theo leaned back, voice hollering out into the space above.

“This is my teacher! Who wants to see him up there next?”

This was answered with space rapidly appearing around them as feet were stamped and voices raised. Liam scowled at his three friends who were howling with everyone else. Glaring as the older bar lady gestured with a hand for him to come up on the stage, Liam sent Theo a last glare that promised pain before stalking towards the bar.

When he reached the edge the woman was leaning forwards shouting “That okay with you sweetheart?”

He paused before an idea came to mind. Mirroring her stance he smiled winningly at her.

“I know there’s a tradition but can I request a song?”

When he told her, she laughed before nodding and turning away. Giving her a moment to fiddle with the iPod that was hooked up to the surround system, Liam hopped up onto the bar, facing outwards. Lopsidedly grinning he motioned for his little group to gather closer.

Theo was understandably suspicious but willing, stopping in-between Liam’s legs; not touching but hovering close. Mason was hanging off Corey with happy curiosity.

“You’re all coming up with me.”

“What!”

Laughing, a hand absently brushing down Theo’s forearm, Liam explained “You all know this dance, so stop bitching and get up here.”

The bar manager was back, grinning as she gestured for them to get up on the stage before speaking into a microphone. Once it was announce the four boys were up on the crowded counter.

Theo burst out laughing, along with half the bar, when ‘Jump On It’ came on. Despite being drunk Mason giggled helplessly as they all put their hands on their hips, reenacting the Fresh Prince of Bel Air dance, with the beat. When it came to the jumping around in a circle Corey had to forgo having an arm in the air, opting to keep his boyfriend upright.

It was short and fun; burning off some of the lust that Theo’s number had caused. By the time they were off the bar and heading towards the door to start the part of the night were they detox Mason.

Walking to Liam’s Bronco, Theo surprised him again when the chimera grabbed his hand, fingers entwining. Looking towards him from the corner of his eye, he saw an content smile on his face. Liam tightened the hold.

“What?”

It wasn’t until the other two were safely enclosed in the back seat, several bags in Mason’s hands in case he decided to hurl, that Theo answered. Pulling him into a blind spot near the back of the vehicle where prying eyes couldn’t see Theo used the hold to bring Liam in close; lips brushing over neck before stopping against ear.

“I’m okay with Yours and Mine.”

It took Liam a minute to get past the sensation to realize what Theo was saying. When he did, he tried to keep the smile off his face as he dug into a pocket with his free hand. Theo watched as Liam grinned at him, hand coming out of the pocket to hold up a very crumpled twenty dollar bill.

“So I heard that you coming home with me would only be twenty bucks…”

Even later, after they dropped their friends off. After they went to Theo’s apartment. And even much, much later when clothes had come off and words laced with promise and love was etched into skin with lips and teeth. When twenty bucks laid forgotten on a counter that would hold two set of keys.

Liam could still hear Theo’s laughter.

[stackson-trash-blog]

Lazarus (Alt title: This Escalated Quickly). Steo Oneshot.

I’m 100% sure this is a dead fandom, and my command of the English language is questionable at best. However, since I can’t find anyone to RP Thiam or Steo with me on the regular, I wrote a fic. Much love to anyone who actually reads this. Sorry, no Ao3 as i have no account there sadly T^T

Rating: PG-13 for awkward making out.

Spoilers for: The whole series. NGL I’m not done with watching S6B, so take this as AU if you need to. 

Summary: 

{  “You make it sound like you got lost on the way to Taco Bell. Of course it matters.” He flings both hands heavenward, and catches sight of a smirk as it toys with the very corners of Theo’s lips. Liam had whispered, in the way only an excitable beta with an equally expressive alpha could, to watch out for him. To keep his cards close to his chest. To ignore the bait as it dangled right in front of his eyes. A hundred muddled ways of dressing up the fact that now he’s back, no one really knows how to handle Theo Raeken. }

“It doesn’t matter.”

From where he’s doing a terrible job of looking casual, perched with knock knees hunched up to a hoodie which swamps his delicate frame, Stiles shoots a skeptical look at him. Engaged as they are in something of an attrition olympics - where Theo waits with the kind of patience which seems designed to incense an itch beneath brittle, human skin, it’s little wonder that Stiles hasn’t at least attempted to chuck him out of the nearest window. Heaven knows, he’d tried it back when Derek believed that nocturnal pit stops were perfectly acceptable on a school night.

The brunette sits cross-legged and picture fucking perfect on a speck of carpet which isn’t occupied by haphazard stacks of overdue library books, and scrunched up articles of unwashed clothing, he’s only situated in Stiles’ room because Mrs. Geyer has the same spidey senses he himself has been imbued with since birth. Just like Stiles, she’s seen past the immaculate charm of a smile which never quite makes its way to Theo’s startlingly blue eyes. 

Thoroughly sussed, and on the coat-tails of a puppy dog protest from both Liam and Scott, the responsibility of babysitting Beacon Hill’s latest lazarus has been thrust upon him like an unwanted invitation.

“You make it sound like you got lost on the way to Taco Bell. Of course it matters.” 

He flings both hands heavenward, and catches sight of a smirk as it toys with the very corners of Theo’s lips. Liam had whispered, in the way only an excitable beta with an equally expressive alpha could, to watch out for him. To keep his cards close to his chest. To ignore the bait as it dangled right in front of his eyes. A hundred muddled ways of dressing up the fact that now he’s back, no one really knows how to handle Theo.

Heck, as distinctly perverse as it might’ve been, maybe if he’d shown an ounce of emotion then things would’ve been easier. Even as that notion swims to the forefront of Stiles’ consciousness he winces a little; fidgeting beneath that same skin (a body which hadn’t quite fit right since a while back, if he was truly honest with himself), thinking of just how affected Theo had been at the end. 

When they’d all been patting each other on the back. Another murderer, another liar who’d threatened the sanctity of pack. Disposed of. Forgotten. Life had resumed, slotted right back into its usual groove as if Theo Raeken had been an anomaly. That small loose end in a long line of trials and tribulations they’d overcome together.

Except, late at night when the clocks had stopped chiming, and his only company came in the form of impenetrable silence, punctuated by the distant hum of a world beyond Beacon, Stiles could almost see it. That vivid, unexpected, inexplicable vulnerability he’d seen in Theo’s eyes. A wild gaze filled with unadulterated horror as he was dragged down into the unseen bowels of hell. He’d been in the midst of congratulating himself for being the only one who saw right through Theo’s act from the very beginning. Yet as the weeks crept along in the wake of their latest victory, no one else seemed to be losing sleep over someone who had no right to be mourned.

Now here he is in technicolor, acting like he’d just stepped out to buy some fucking burritos. Like nothing had transpired to turn the both of their lives inside out. Like a mannequin going through those same smug beats Scott, Liam, Lydia, and the rest all expect from him. Its something Stiles would profess not to be able to fathom, but in the corners of his consciousness which he’s left to rot it might as well have been a blueprint for how he’d acted after being devoured internally and without by something beyond his control.

And in the darkest reaches, festooned with intentional cobwebs, and hidden behind doors with faulty locks, now human through and through, Stiles knew he’d liked a part of it. Having no autonomy and absolute power. The cocktail of medication keeping him afloat even after Scott got the bite didn’t allow him to get drunk on anything else. All the cruelty he’d dished out had been his drug of choice. In the end, the teen sitting cross-legged, idle fingertips picking at a tear in the knee of stolen jeans; he isn’t so different after all. Sympathising with him feels like climbing into bed with the enemy all over again. Only this time Stiles isn’t being jerked from pillar to post like some kind of morbid puppet.

No, he’s having an internal melt down over Theo fucking Raeken whilst trying to resist the urge to go twenty questions on his ass. To seem as if he cares more than either of them might want to admit.

Instead he reaches over to a desk which has seen better days, and proceeds to cram the contents of a bag of stale fritos into his mouth. Regret settles leaden in his stomach, heavier than junk food has any right to be, and Theo merely looks towards the open window before rising with easy grace to pad barefoot towards the breeze which is carding at half drawn curtains.

That’s another thing he’s noticed during his totally unintentional, definitely not slightly obsessive study of a man who belongs nowhere, and yet feels like he’s stamped his mark all over Beacon Hills in the last two years. Theo does as he’s always done, working his way back into Scott’s soft, gentle heart as if he never left it. Quick with words that sound far too harsh coming from anyone else, slow to adopt anything beyond an air of self-serving cockiness. He’s a refined version of the douche-bag behaviors Jackson Whittemore eventually matured out of, and doesn’t everyone have to know it?

But he falters in the most subtle of ways. Stiles noted it early on, when they were in a car with the windows up, doors locked, seatbelts predictably neglected. The flush of health which Theo usually exuded from the pores of his annoyingly flawless skin had slowly leeched out over the upholstery. He was trying so very quietly, and so very desperately to seem like he didn’t give a single fuck, but Stiles knew that look. He’d seen it daubed across the mirror in his bathroom on mornings where getting out of bed felt like it might take a small eternity, if it happened at all. It’d been reflected in Lydia’s eyes, crystal in clarity, painful in practice.

Theo Raeken is allergic to confined spaces. Theo Raeken is on the verge of a panic attack one out of every five times they see each other. Theo Raeken is too fucking proud, perhaps too aware of how little anyone would care if he admitted that his armour wasn’t intact. That he’s been damaged by sights unseen, days, weeks, months of a hell he refused to acknowledge he’d visited.

Through a mouthful of chips, some god-awful spicy flavor which burns his sensitive white boy tongue, Stiles tries again. Theo’s still doing a pretty good impression of someone who’s suddenly developed the ability to tune his voice out entirely as he re-positions himself in a wholly uncomfortable looking hitch upon the wide ledge of the bedroom window. They’d have been downstairs, but the look his dad had given Stiles on the way out had been a warning of sorts. Best to keep the mess of Theo’s presence contained to his own cluttered corner of the house.

Not that his cheeks hadn’t lit up like the fourth of July on their trek up the stairs. Sure, he’d been bluntly assured by the sheriff way back when that he was most assuredly not gay, but they’d all thought Jackson was straighter than straight, and look how that’d turned out. Theo is just about dead last on a list of guys Stiles would allow his dad to (even mistakenly) believe he’s hooking up with (He’s tied with Peter ‘Leer Like You Mean It’ Hale, and fucking Derek), and yet he’d been treated like a very real prospect by the older man. As spectacularly unlikely as the reality seemed to the both of them. 

Jesus on a tricycle.

Theo beats his miniature crisis of sexuality, and said highly important lists of not-crushes to the punch, eyes trained upon a point somewhere beyond the yard. As if he can only bring himself to talk about anything without a heaping of flippancy if there’s something like distance between them.

“Pitchforks, hellfire, the whole nine yards. They had me waiting in this line that felt like it took forever, led to absolutely nothing. Then came the spanki---”

A textbook, ‘Ancient Celtic Symbols: A Practical Assessment of the History of their significance in the Third and Fourth Centuries’, slams into the wall beside Theo’s head - spine cracking quite spectacularly before it disappears into a mound of unfolded bedding. The dusted smear of orange which clings to Stiles’ lips, just shy of one beauty spot in a hundred, and the crumple of hems and sleeves, and mismatched socks don’t do much to detract from a sudden assault upon Theo’s personal space that many others might have thought twice about.

“That’s the damn synopsis from an episode of Supernatural, you---you--Stop walking around like everything’s peachy keen, jelly bean, and you’re straight back to living the high and mighty big bad lifestyle, because you’re not. Liam told Scott, and Scott can’t lie for shit. Nightmares. Night terrors--whatever you want to call them, and you look like you’re gonna crawl right out of your skin whenever we’re inside the jeep. You’re not okay, and I am not okay with you not being okay--”

There it is again, that cornered look, a feral animal with a wounded paw who’d sooner bare its fangs than give in. Only Theo doesn’t pick Stiles up, throw him right out of the open window whose sill is pressed into the small of his back. Doesn’t make good on all the threats which have gone unspoken, and those which were all too painfully vocalized before he was torn right out of existence by a group for whom death had become all too mundane a prospect.

He mouths something else, using lips that Stiles has seen twisted with emotion - both genuine and questionable at best, stained with blood and soot, bitten raw, and molded into the falsest of smiles. Hot bursts of breath tickle at his own mouth, and the close nature of their proximity to each other, Theo’s hand a brace around the sharp tilt of his hip, his own pale fingers fisting up in a handful of a t-shirt he’s seen worn three times already this week. They’ve sunk into aligned orbits without meaning to. Stiles’ heart flutters in his chest, a precursor to the familiar skitter and hitch of a panic attack, but neither man moves an inch.

Are you done.

Ironically, for two people who unashamedly adore the sounds of their own voices, it’s silence which shuts Stiles down quite completely. That, and the rough command Theo takes of his lips. He kisses like he means something, for the first time in his short, bloody, tragic  excuse for a life. As if he doesn’t have to try, not even slightly, to look past the fact that both of them have been corralled into the shape of killers. Notions of how terrible of an idea this is fall by the wayside. After all, no one would accuse Stiles of being anything less than impulsive, and for once there’s nothing calculated in the way Theo crowds him up against the nearest wall, still within reach of a tender breeze where it whispers through the open window.

Discarded wrappers, forgotten homework assignments, small pockets of empty space dissolve underneath their bare feet, and for a moment everything just slips away as if it never existed to begin with. The void into which he’d been bound up, a disturbingly eager witness to the crimes of his own body, its there prickling at those neglected locks in Stiles’ head. Stark in just how similar it might’ve been to Theo’s own fate, if only he’d gone quite as willingly as Stiles refuses to admit he had. Theo’s dangerous, a wild card, the only wagon he’d refused to hitch himself to whilst under the illusion that pack was all that mattered.

And yet they’re making out like it’s prom night; desperate and hungry to get lost in anything but the reality of being broken. Theo’s stubborn, taking up every inch of air between them, eager hands mapping out the contours of a body which could be so easily torn to shreds beneath him. He breaks away first though, catching himself before a smile laden with typical smugness can quite form upon those treacherous lips of his.

And holy shit, he’s actually sincere. If Stiles had a camera to hand he’d take a picture. Frame something so rare, and so baffling it somehow quells the stir of panic in his guts, study it’s complexities during those hours before dawn when sleep is so very elusive. Theo’s watching him now, silent for once, maybe a little skewed himself by the fact that swapping spit with a boy with an unpronounceable name who’d tried to kill him, might be an antidote to both of their ills.

Stiles sits up, puts the brakes on, huddles down into a hoodie which feels stifling now. Theo’s hand is fever pitch, curled with perplexing care around the nape of his neck. He leaves it there, doesn’t say another word. Lets the spell they’ve concocted quite by accident to distill itself.

When the front door clicks open three hours later little has changed, save for the height of the sun upon an expectant horizon. Theo opened up slowly, whispering details which had come with the promise of violence if Stiles dared utter them to another soul. Maybe it was rhetorical, but whether Theo cares or not he’s the bearer of Stiles’ own murmured truths. Things he’s never even considered saying out loud. Not to Scott, not to Lydia, not even Malia during the short, tempestuous, ill-fated time in which he’d believed he was in love with her too.

An actual lock upon Stiles’ door had gone the same way as true privacy. It was for his own good, and for the peace of mind it provided his only remaining family, Stiles had agreed to his father’s unshakable conviction in the idea.

Worn out by the mere of act of letting their guards fall, curled around each other like they’d formed their own pact was how the sheriff found his son - the teenage wunderkind with the smart mouth, and a boy who’s belonged nowhere his entire life. And for all it’s perils he finds no concrete reasons with which he can justify separating them.