Archive of Our Own ^beta

i.

The first time it happens, it’s Mason who notices. Of course it’s Mason who notices because A) it’s Mason, the guy notices everything, he even would have figured out Liam’s secret by himself if Theo hadn’t sped that up and B) he and Theo are the only ones of their group (Liam refuses to call it ‘Puppy Pack’ like Stiles does because how fucking ridiculous does that sound?) up there on the stands while the others are working their butts off. 

With Lacrosse, that is. 

Because they’re back to normal life and things are fine in Beacon Hills. Their only problems are school and Lacrosse and what to do in the approaching summer. No supernatural threats everywhere, like those are still scared of the Hunters that made Beacon Hills even more famous to their ears than a True Alpha did. Pack nights aren’t for planning but for sitting together and watching movies and it’s cool. 

So yes, of course Liam didn’t notice because not only doesn’t it matter to him what Theo wears, like, at all, but he’s been busy scoring goals and managing his teammates and everything else. There’s a flood of red in the crowd, so naturally even his eyes don’t make out every single one of them. He could tell you where his friends sat, yeah, but that’s about it. There’s more serious things to focus on than Theo’s voice amongst the cheers whenever he’s got the ball, okay? And, as established, what kind of jersey he’s wearing doesn’t peak Liam’s interest either.

Except. 

Except when Mason comes up to him after the match and instead of saying classical things like, ‘Hey, good game’ or ‘Wow, Li, you’re such a good captain!’ he gives him a panicked, maybe even offended look as he wants to know: “Did you sleep with Theo?”

He’s kept his voice down and Liam understands him nonetheless, supernatural hearing and all that, but the thing is: There’s three other supernatural beings around, too, one of them being Theo. Liam can basically hear his head snap around from where he was talking to Nolan - Nolan of all people! - as Mason talks. He can also smell faint blood on Corey’s lips as he bites them.

“What?” He yelps, pulling Mason closer. “What-- What makes you-- what? No? No, I did not--!” Why would he even think that Liam would sleep with Theo? Sure, he looks sinfully good and Liam knows how ripped he is and he’s changed a lot in the past year and makes bad jokes when he shouldn’t but-- It’s Theo!

There’s a multitude of emotions passing Mason’s face in the next few seconds, but in the end he’s just chuckling lightly. “Jeez, I was joking. You know, with him wearing your jersey.”

“He’s wearing--” Liam turns around, only to find Theo still staring at them. He’s wearing a smirk, the asshole, as if it was a compliment that Mason would assume such a thing. He’s so full of himself, even though Liam could totally rip off his head if he wanted to. He even has the audacity to wink at Liam before he turns back to Corey, revealing the lettering at the back of the jersey to him. And there it is: DUNBAR. Number 9. “I-- What the hell?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too,” Mason nods. He still looks quite amused by Liam’s confusion. “Guess you have a fan.”

He scoffs in return. He’s pretty sure that hell would freeze over sooner than Theo would ever really think positively about anything that Liam does. No, the only reason for him to wear a jersey at all is to show off how freakishly good he looks in the colour and the fact that it happens to be one of Liam’s just means… Well, he doesn’t know what it means but who says Theo knows an answer to everything he does either. The guy doesn’t know anything that matters, like, sure, he can pull off evil schemes left and right and knows how to suck up to the right people, but that doesn’t mean he’s planned to wear Liam’s jersey, specifically. No, it just happened to be the one at hand for whatever reason. 

“It’s cute,” Mason adds, grin still in place as he throws his arm around Liam’s shoulders. “And I’m sure that he, like everyone else, really appreciated that salto you did there,” he adds with a wink. 

Liam rolls his eyes. So he did a salto after scoring a goal, what about it? It certainly isn’t the most athletic things he’s ever done - or been capable of - because hello, werewolf? So his celebratory jump turned into something more just because he could and because he was so happy and-- yeah. Not like he intended to be particularly cool or show off or something. And he certainly doesn’t care what Theo Raeken thinks of him. Never has.

“Wait, what are you doing?” He demands when Mason starts into Theo’s direction, moving him there, too, since he’s still holding onto him. Goddammit, he’s just won a match, he doesn’t want to be annoyed to death afterwards, that’s bullshit. 

Mason raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna congratulate my boyfriend, you dumbass,” he declares, “Figured you’d want to tag along since, you know, your entire pack is over there, too.” 

Strictly speaking, it isn’t. It’s only a part of his pack. There’s Scott missing, and Malia, and Lydia and even Stiles, not to mention Kira and Hayden who’ve been gone for so long that he only feels a memory of his heartache when he thinks about it. But he gets what Mason means. Liam isn’t an Alpha, no. Even with Scott gone, their bonds didn’t just magically change or anything, so he’s still very much a Beta. But he’s still the leader of the younger members of the pack. Of the people who stayed in Beacon. Granted, they’re only a small group and only two of them are werewolves, but it’s pack all the same. And somehow, Theo counts, too. Ugh. 

The thing is, he’s already had his fair share of reaction from the pack. Hell, Corey, Alec and Nolan are on the team! They’ve been the first ones to throw themselves into a pile once the ref called the game off. Not that he’d mind discussing with them about how much they rocked the match even without using any of their powers, thank you very much. Recalling all of their moves and how exciting it feels to be doing something on an adrenaline high that is not caused by a life-or-death situation… It’s awesome. It’s what they should be doing, truthfully, and Liam loves that they’re able to do so now. 

“Li!” He suddenly hears his mom call and, quite uncharacteristically, he can’t keep himself from sighing in relief. He hadn’t even known she’d show up to the match and he can’t claim that he saw her in the crowd. But again: flood of red jerseys and other accessories. He hadn’t even known he could look for her, hypothetically.

“Dude, my mom’s here?” Liam says, his mouth falling open.

Mason frowns at him. “Uh, yeah? She stood with us, man,” he says, in a way that tells Liam that, this too, should be something that he should have noticed earlier. Because, apparently, just because he’s a werewolf he has to be a master at multitasking as well. 

“Didn’t see,” he explains. He grabs Mason’s wrist and pulls his arm off his shoulders. “I guess I’ll head over there before she has my head.” Which could very much happen, you see. Jenna Geyer is a force to be reckoned with. 

In return, Mason just makes a weird sound between a hum and a snort, almost as if he thinks Liam’s just searching for an excuse (Yes, he can read literally every little motion that Mason wears on his face and he can hear every sentence Mason hides behind a single sound, they’re tight like that. Get on their level.) which he isn’t. Why he’s acting like it isn’t a universal knowledge that his mom could rip him a new one if she wanted to is beyond Liam, because God knows Mason has been exposed to that plenty of times, too. Best friend privilege and all. But he does let him go with a shrug and Liam counts that as a win.

“Hey, baby,” his mom says when she pulls him into a hug, pressing a swift kiss against his temple. They’ve always been affectionate like this, but ever since almost losing everything, Liam’s started to accept her public displays of it without much muttering. If anyone would dare to laugh at him, they‘d soon learn to stop that; he’s happy he’s still there and that he still has a mother to hug like this with everything that’s happened since he came to this school. “Awesome game.”

“Thanks!” He says cheerfully. See, this is the kind of conversation he was expecting to happen. A little appreciation for what he’s done on the field, that’s all he’s asking for, really. “Seriously, I thought we’d lose for, like, ten minutes or so, but when they called Tanner off for fouling so much, everything turned around, like, did you see that pass over to Nolan?”

Granted, his mom is not exactly an expert on Lacrosse, not like Todd is. He’s the one who explained it to Liam, after all, and made him as good as he is nowadays. But he knows that Jenna knows the rules well enough and that she can tell when something’s tight, so he rambles off to her anyway. And she does listen and react appropriately, giving her own thoughts and praising him, just like she should. It’s nice. 

When his narration comes to an end, she’s smiling softly and combing her hand through his sweaty hair. That she isn’t disgusted by it is a serious mother treat, he thinks. Her gaze has trailed off by now and she smiles softly. “You know, it’s nice you gave Theo something to wear,” she says suddenly. “Including him to the group.”

Liam can’t help but scowl at it. Just because Theo happens to be wearing a jersey reading his name doesn’t mean he’s the one who gave it to him! Honestly, he couldn’t care less if he feels included or not and there’s plenty of other pack members who could have done that. Like Nolan, for example. The two of them have bonded pretty nicely since the War was over, probably because they could share stories of hurting Liam when he most definitely did not deserve that, or something like that. Or Corey. You’d think Corey would hate Theo for killing him like he had, but nope. They’re tight. Like, actual friends. Maybe it’s because Corey is cheesy and thinks the supernatural is what made him and Mason fit together so well and that’s all Theo’s fault or something. Liam doesn’t know. It’s annoying. The thing is, it could have been either of the two who could have offered their jerseys if he felt so left out or something, but no. He went and stole one out of Liam’s laundry or something creepy like that, just to piss him off.

But this is his mom, his mom who has taken an inexplicable liking to Theo, which would be fine if Theo wasn’t such an ass because she doesn’t know half of his backstory, of course, but he’s still his normal self even to her and that’s just irritating as hell. His mom’s weird like this, taking a liking to Theo’s jabs and sarcasm and the gleam in his eyes whenever he makes Liam groan in annoyance and… Yeah, he’s been over for dinner a couple of times since she keeps inviting him. Maybe he needs to add his mom to the list of people who want to see him suffer, he doesn’t know. 

Still, it means that he can’t tell her that if it were up to him, then Theo would be standing here with anything but his jersey. Preferably, he wouldn’t even be here at all because, like, what does he even know about the match, honestly. If he said any of that out loud, though, he’d earn the telling of his life. So he puts on a fierce smile and nods. “Yeah, right?”

ii.

The second time, it’s Alec.

Liam can’t really blame him for the lack of knowledge on his part, even if anyone who possesses two working eyes should be able to tell that he and Theo are about to break each other’s noses at any given moment. They’ve done so already! Granted, that’s been a long time ago and went unnoticed by most of the pack back then since it was a time of injuries anyway but still! Alec may not have been around back then, but he’s been a member of the pack long enough by now to see that there’s not a single day where they aren’t arguing. Their hatred for each other is obvious. Capital O Obvious.

But there he is, grinning widely as he enters the locker room and Liam seriously has to consider whether he should reclaim his speaking rights. The kid’s too young to know what he’s talking about anyways, so that sounds like something he should do. He’s both the leader of the pack and the team captain. “Hey, Dunbar, ya cheerleader’s back in place,” he announces, loudly, so that everyone hears it. “T’s sporting ya name again.”

The thing is, there’s been more than enough talk about it amongst them all. For the past week, this group of athletes has become the worst kind of gossip junkies that he has ever seen, and when it became obvious that he’s ignoring that whole thing since it isn’t important anyway, they just started talking about him rather than to him. As if he wasn’t there and had any right to just talk their bullshit about how of course Theo would be cheering for Liam the most. Like, that doesn’t even make any sense? He has no idea how they even come up with nonsense like that and he tries really hard not to let it get to his head. He wouldn’t even need to wolf out in front of them, just a normal flash of anger would be enough to scare them all shitless, he knows that, and that’s not what he wants. 

Corey’s the one to make them shut up usually, probably because he has a better way of picking up on his heartbeat and anger flowing through his veins than the others. Well, besides Alec, that is, but like he’s said, the guy barely counts because he’s not just a young wolf but a baby in general. He’s what, fifteen? So yeah, either Corey starts talking to him or he shuts the others up, all with throwing a pointed look at Alec and Nolan which Liam really appreciates since they really are the ones who should know better than to assume there’s any feelings of friendship between him and Theo. 

Besides, it’s not like he needs any help paying attention to his surroundings, thank you very much. He’s an experienced werewolf who’s learnt to be attentive and he has no problem with admitting that he was curious whether Theo would repeat his stunt. Last time, it could have been an accident - he could have grabbed a random jersey and, by accident, it has ended up being Liam’s. But he’d have noticed by now and chucked it into the trash or something, maybe even burnt it - honestly, Liam wouldn’t even mind at this point; if it ever gets back into his possession, he’ll definitely do that -, if he hadn’t worn it on purpose. If he wore it again, though, then it most definitely is planned. And there he is, proving that he is such a jackass.

The team does shut up at Corey’s hiss - a human one, thankfully - but, as in true Teenage Boy Fashion™ they don’t do it without letting out a last blow of chuckles. They only make Liam’s heart rate spike more as he shoves his bag into his locker. Trust Theo to ruin his rep like that. Hell, he’s got a team to lead here! If nobody listens to him any more because Theo decides to make fun of him like that, then there’ll be no guarantee that Theo’s nose stays even this week, that much he can tell.

To his disappointment, though, they stay silent during his big leader speech except for their own little encouragements. Those still sound like music to Liam’s ears, he’s gotta admit that. It’s enough to soothe him and make him forget about being annoyed with them. That, and the rush he already feels when thinking about the match. He can’t help it, the love he has for the game is still running through him, even if it can’t count as the most thrilling experience of his life anymore. Who even cares about Theo Raeken and the image crash he can cause him when he’s still a damn skilled player? Like honestly, as long as he keeps playing like he does, then his reputation should be A-okay. And if people aren’t already in awe of him, then he’ll prove them wrong, goddammit. 

It’s a determination that carries him out on the field and makes him ignore the flatter of his heart when he spots Theo in the crowd, wearing his jersey like it’s a right of his or something like that, and concentrate on what’s about to start. And it’s gonna be good, Liam can already tell. 

He’s got a good game going, catching every pass that goes his way and not missing a single goal. Until he does. The goalie is good, and he catches most of the other players’ balls, so it isn’t too surprising that he’d do the same to at least a few of Liam’s as well. It’s alright. Expected. Liam doesn’t mind too much because that’s how the game works. 

As the game carries on, though, he can’t help but pick up a bit of a conversation.

“Because that would be unfair, Theo.” Mason’s voice is hushed even as he’s standing in a loud crowd, and it’s quite snappy, too, like he’s reprimanding? him. “Plus, he’s laying low.”

Theo lets out a light scoff in return. “It’s beyond me how those humans can still be so oblivious to what’s going on beyond their noses,” he answers. His voice is a bit louder, like he doesn’t give a shit about who hears what he’s got to say. In fact, Liam can imagine he’d be pretty happy if someone overheard him. “Like, the whole Hunters thing wasn’t even hidden away or anything.”

Liam flinches at that, even as he carries on running. There’s a phantom pain surging through his hand and involuntarily, his head snaps around to shoot a look at Nolan. They’re friends now, not exactly the best, but friends nonetheless. He’s been scared and manipulated and he’s done the right thing, in the end, everything’s cool. Of course, his stabbing Corey in the hand was not cool and him and Gabe beating Liam up until he wolfed out wasn’t fine either but that’s long gone. If they held people at the way they behaved once upon a time even though they’ve changed, then Theo would be the first to be gone, seriously. 

He’s not entirely sure if everyone has just forgotten about all those reveals - who knows, maybe the Anuk-Ite took all memories caused by its effects with it or something, Liam doesn’t really care as long as it means he doesn’t have to worry about people looking at him like he’s a monster. More than they already do, that is. Maybe the other students just decided to do as humans do, which is repressing memories. That’s Lydia’s favourite thesis. Stiles hadn’t looked completely convinced, but he didn’t have anything better to offer than ‘they’re just ignoring it, obviously’ and now that seems pretty unlikely, doesn’t it? People are nosy, even about stuff like that. 

And Theo is pissed off about not being hunted down anymore? Damn, Liam had almost believed that he’d started to care about all the injured people. He’s joined the fights and was on the right side. He’s fought alongside Liam, most of the time just the two of them against dozens of hunters just so that those would stop to kill anyone else. Maybe it was just about hurting someone for Theo after all. Maybe he hasn’t changed that much after all, it wouldn’t surprise him. 

Liam gets tackled to the ground.

Okay, maybe he’s not that good at multitasking after all.

Fuck, that shit hurts. Liam knows his fair share of pain, of course, and this isn’t the worst thing ever, but it doesn’t mean he can just jump up and continue to play. He’s pretty sure the crack has been audible for everyone on the field. He’s gonna be healing within a few minutes, probably, but most of the audience won’t know that. And it hurts. It’s his shoulder, his back, and his arm. Damn. That might be multiple fractures.

Coach - and seriously? Coach definitely knows about werewolves and all that jazz - wants to get him to the medics, completely uncharacteristic for him, and that’s the last that Liam needs. Once someone knows that he’s broken a bone, then it’s gonna be hard explaining his rapid healing. Somehow he manages to convince him that no, he doesn’t need to see a medic. It’s cool. Finstock still insists that he go sit on the bench and Liam supposes he can’t blame him, with how he’s clutching to his arm right now so that nobody would see it hanging down in a lump.

He doesn’t leave the field without a scowl, though. He hasn’t even seen who’s tackled him, but he decides the guy - or girl, the other team has girls, too - can get fucked. He didn’t even have the ball! No fucking reason to tackle him like that, but no, they go around breaking werewolf bones. Maybe that person’s been a werewolf, too, or something, he doesn’t know. 

“What the fuck was he doing?” He hears Theo say as he walks off the field. This time, his voice is a bit more quiet, as if his declaring Liam for an idiot was more secret than the whole supernatural business. As if he doesn’t demonstrate with his mere appearance already that he thinks Liam’s a joke. “Just froze…”

Liam shakes his head to himself, trying to get his voice out of his ear. Seriously, he’s already been sent off the field, he doesn’t need to keep hearing Theo’s brabble of insults. With a scoff, he lets himself fall down onto the bench. It’s crazy, really, because even before he’s become a werewolf, he’s gotten injured during a game. And back then, he has never been sent to the sidelines even though he didn’t have any fucking advanced healing. He winces a little when he tries to straighten his back. Advanced healing doesn’t mean that a broken shoulder - or whatever the fuck this is - doesn’t hurt. 

He jumps - and winces again at the sudden movement - when the same voice is suddenly much louder and closer and definitely directed at him this time. “On a scale from one to ten, how much does your stupidity hurt?”

Liam keeps staring ahead, trying to watch the game. Let’s see how well the team does without him, after all he’s scored most of the goals in this season so it should be interesting to see how badly they’re gonna lose without him on the field. They don’t even have a proper leader with him sitting here! Sure, Nolan comes second (That’s happened once they came to their senses after the War and agreed that Nolan is not leader material at all, so they abandoned the whole co-captain business. Well, Coach made Nolan agree, that is.) but that doesn’t mean it’s gonna be anything like when he shouts orders at his teammates. And he certainly doesn’t need to turn his head and see the stupid gleeful grin on Theo’s face. 

Of course Theo doesn’t understand that he doesn’t want to see him. The guy’s so full of himself, always thinking that he’s the star of the show, Liam doesn’t even know how he thought he’d get that he should leave. Instead, he sits down with a light huff. Right next to him.

“Fuck off, Theo,” he says with a scowl, eyes still on where Maddox is trying to chase after the ball even though he’s the slowest person on the goddamn team. “You’ve already annoyed me enough today.”

“Have I?” Theo wants to know. He actually sounds like he’s grinning at Liam’s misery, the asshole. “We haven’t even talked the whole day.”

“Didn’t stop you from talking about me,” Liam answers. He leans forward, about to prop his chin up on his hands, but he stops when the movement sends another wave of pain through his body.

He must have made a sound, because before he even retracts again, Theo’s leaning forward. “Hey, here, lemme help,” he says, reaching for Liam’s arm.

Liam pulls back immediately - biting through the pain, and honestly shouldn’t that already be subsiding by now? What the hell is he a werewolf for if he’s still in as much pain as a regular human would be, honestly. He certainly doesn’t need Theo’s help with that. “No,” he says decidedly. “It’s already your fault that I got tackled like that.”

“My fault?” Theo repeats. 

“Yeah, if you had just shut up for a second there,” Liam snarls, “then I wouldn’t have been so fucking distracted, you know? But no, you gotta keep on talking about me like you don’t have anything better to do--”

“What, you got distracted by me talking to Mason?”

“Well, it’s not like you were particularly quiet about it, right? Thanks for that, by the way, I really like just being outed to the whole school like that,” Liam says and rolls his eyes. The thought wouldn’t cross Theo’s mind, of course, because the guy doesn’t give a shit about whether people know he’s a supernatural creature or not. In fact, he’d probably think it’s cool to show off his powers and while Liam can understand the sentiment when it comes to some people, the last year has shown them what that kind of exposure to the rest of the world could be like, too. “But no, please, go on. You could spray paint a sign, while you’re at it.”

Theo looks actually surprised by his words, mouth hanging open before he ducks his head a little. Liam counts that as a win. “I-- uh, I didn’t think you’d hear,” he admits. “Because, you know, you were supposed to concentrate on a game there - if you had, you wouldn’t be sitting here, you know? - and I was being quiet. Mason barely understood me.”

Liam would very much like to explain how the reason for that is that Mason is a human and Theo would have to yell to be heard over a crowd sometimes. Which doesn’t mean that there wasn’t a chance to be overheard even if he doesn’t do so, no. But he doesn’t say any of that because not only does that sentence alone confuse the hell out of him, but pointing out the difference between them and Mason would be pretty counterproductive towards what he’s trying to tell Theo. Instead, he grits his teeth. “This isn’t the right place to discuss any of that.”

“Right,” Theo says slowly, adding a sigh. “You know, you reek of pain, so let me just--” He reaches for Liam’s arm again, and this time he lets him. 

To be honest, he’s quite curious to see whether it works; apparently Theo used to be unable to take someone’s pain until that night and the hospital and even that’s an unclear case in Liam’s eyes because… well, because Gabe was dying anyway. Maybe he hadn’t been able to feel anything anymore either way. Thinking like this makes Liam shudder.

Theo notices and he stops short, thinking he’s the reason for that. Liam lets out a light groan and finally puts his arm down against Theo’s open hand, demonstrating that it’s fine. Really, come to think of it, Theo really should be taking his pain, it’s only fair. He’s the one who caused him to be distracted.

He feels Theo’s grip on his arm, tight as he holds onto him, and Liam can’t help but watch him in his attempt. A smile creeps up on his face when Theo takes in a deep breath and closes his eyes, because apparently it doesn’t work as easily as he’d thought. Truth be told, Liam hasn’t taken away anyone’s pain too often - twice, he thinks, if he remembers correctly. With how often he’s gotten injured in a fight himself, there hasn’t been too much of a chance. But he can’t remember that it’s ever been particularly hard. The action, at least. The pain is another topic altogether.

Suddenly Theo lets out a small gasp and his eyes snap down to where their arms are joined. Liam does the same and-- Theo’s veins are black. 

As they should be while he’s absorbing someone else’s pain.

It works? He really hadn’t expected it. Back when all this was new to them all, Mason had read up all on it. That you have to care about someone to take their pain. Late at night, as they shared their knowledge about the whole werewolf business, they’d reasoned that this doesn’t mean personally care about someone or something like that, because even with how nice a guy Scott is, Liam’s seen him do the same countless of times and he’s doubted he could genuinely care about so many people. If it’s not caring about a person, then about a cause at least, and Liam’s gonna be honest: he wouldn’t have thought that of Theo.

Theo’s pretty nonchalant. He’s had a big agenda before; first with the Dread Doctors and his hunger for power and when he got back to Beacon Hills, then it was his drive to keep his ass from hell or wherever Kira’s sword had sent him. All in all, he’s always been pretty selfish. The only cause he cared about was himself and Liam just can’t believe that would count to the whole jumbo. What kind of bullshit moral would that be?

But here they sit and Liam can practically feel the pain surge through his body and towards Theo’s. It’s like the hand holding onto his arm is like a magnet and keeps it going. At once Liam realizes what it must look like from the outside; Theo holding onto him as they sit right next to each other. It must look like he’s comforting him. Oh god, Theo’s wearing his jersey.

He pulls his arm away. Theo looks up, mouth open like he woke up from a trance, and Liam has to admit he’s a little disappointed. Shouldn’t it be visible anyhow that Theo has taken his pain? The least he could do was grimace a little! But no, he just looks surprised that Liam pulled away so randomly. “It was just a tackle, man,” Liam declares. And it was. Honestly, it hadn’t even been necessary, the whole thing. He’s barely been in pain in the first place. “Wasn’t much to get there.”

There’s some doubt written into Theo’s eyes, but he doesn’t say anything.

“You should probably head back up to Mason,” Liam tells him. “Else Coach’ll think you’re a player and send you out there.” That would be funny, actually, given that Theo knows literally nothing about the game. Let him run around with a ball and turn the match into Rugby or something. 

“Maybe you guys’d win then,” Theo answers lightly. His trademark smirk is back in place as he stretches. His veins are back to normal, Liam sees when he opens and closes his hand a few times as if it had fallen asleep. The fact that something coming from him disappeared inside of Theo like that… No, that thought brings up associations to something he’d rather not connect to Theo. 

Before he can say anything, Theo does listen. He gets up from the bench easily and stalks back up to the benches, ignoring Mason’s questionnaire when he drops back on his old seat.

Liam turns back to the field and-- well, Theo hadn’t been wrong. They are losing, goddammit. He can’t claim to be surprised, though. They are playing without him, after all.

iii.

The third time it happens, it’s Nolan. 

Of course it’s Nolan because even after everything, Nolan is still an asshole at heart. He doesn’t go around punching holes in people’s hands anymore, and he didn’t get recruited by any murderous organizations recently - as far as Liam knows, at least, but who is he to tell, really, it’s not like he stalks the guy or anything - but he likes to push Liam’s buttons as much as possible. It’s why he and Theo get along so well, he supposes. Torturing him without any reason to. That’s their collective hobby.

Okay, well maybe it isn’t Nolan exactly who draws his attention to Theo, to be honest. He’s able to do that pretty well on himself. But if it weren’t for him and the bro hug they shared after this win (an amazing one, really, the opposite team didn’t know what happened to them) then he wouldn’t have seen that Theo is wearing his jersey once again. Like, sure he’s already spotted him in the crowd when he scanned over it earlier and yeah, Theo’s been wearing the same red as the last few times but that didn’t mean it was his jersey again, you know? And Liam’s heard him, too, when he talked to Mason again, this time mumbling orders aimed at Liam because while he’s playing Theo can’t help but say what he thinks others should do. He’s so annoying, honestly.

Anyway, the thing is Liam wouldn’t have had to read his name in bold letters across Theo’s broad shoulder again if it weren’t for Nolan pulling him in a hug and turning them around so Theo’s back is facing Liam. simple as that. But no, he has to go and do just that.

“Dude, glare anymore and you’re gonna develop heat vision,” Corey remarks. He’s smiling a little as he nudges Liam in the side. Just a second ago he had been engulfed in a hug - and possibly more - by Mason, so he doesn’t really want him to be all that close, to be honest.

He steps aside a little. “Wolves don’t get heat vision, Corey,” he says and rolls his eyes. “Are there chimeras who--”

“You’re literally staring at the expert for that question,” Corey remarks with a light shrug. If you asked Liam, it’s pretty rude that he won’t even let him finish. And not just that, he has to shoot the spotlight at Theo again. Not that Liam ever looked away really, because seriously, how could he when he continues to act like he has any right to wear that. “Maybe you should go talk to him. You know, finally.”

“I talk to Theo,” he answers without thinking. He does! They say hi and bye at pack nights and generally when they run into each other - which is more often than Liam’d like but they do share classes, after all - and then there’s also his mum who keeps inviting him over. Theo has declined the invitation more often recently and he’s stopped trying to rope Liam into conversations about nonsense like homework or some random book he’s ended up reading, but the point stands. He does talk to Theo. Plenty, really. “I mean-- why’d I need to, anyway?”

Corey snorts lightly. “I don’t know, man. Because you look like you’re about to rip off his head? Maybe because he’s been wearing your jersey to three games? Or because he’s taken your pain last week when that wasn’t necessary?” Goddammit, Mason. You talk to your best friend in confidence and there he goes, betraying your trust by telling his boyfriend. What ever because of bros before hoes? “Pick your reason, you got enough.”

Liam finally looks at him fully, taking his eyes off Theo’s back and the way the jersey clings to his skin as if he’d been running along with them all. Is it even possible for a member of the audience to sweat like that? Maybe he’s drenched himself with water on purpose or something, hell if Liam knew. 

Corey jerks a little at the sudden attention, but after a second a small smile makes its way onto his face. He’s right, actually, come to think of it. Why does Liam keep standing here and worrying his handsome head when he could just ask Theo what the fuck he is doing? 

He gives a firm nod before setting off towards Theo. Maybe Corey didn’t think his words would resonate with Liam (Which would be stupid. Liam is an awesome listener. Sometimes he even does as he’s told, just like he does right now.) or maybe he didn’t expect him to act this quickly, because he starts calling after him. No idea if he finishes the sentence because Liam’s more focused on Theo and how he’s currently throwing his head back in laughter at something that Lewis must have said. 

He looks almost… like it’s genuine. Wow, Theo’s really a good actor, huh? Did the Dread Doctors hire a teacher or something or are they actors themselves or what, because that isn’t just manipulation or something. That’s, like, some Oscar-worthy shit. Liam almost believes that the crinkles in the corner of his eyes are real, and that’s saying a lot because he knows pretty damn well that nothing Theo does ever happens without a plan behind it.

“Theo,” he says firmly and oh, his laughter ceases at once in response. He trades it for a raise of an eyebrow and Liam bites back a huff. Of course, he gets the teasing and annoying and real version of Theo, probably because he knows no acting skills in the world can hide his asshole self from Liam. “Can we talk?”

Theo’s eyes grow wider - only slightly, but Liam catches it because when there isn’t an annoying voice in his ear talking shit about him he’s great at paying attention - and he tightens his jaw, but then he shrugs. And gives half a nod. Like, one of those that are more to the side than to the person you talk to, and somehow Liam feels like that’s an indicator for something like fear or worry or something. He doesn’t know, he always got the vibe from something like that and it’s weird-- not just that he gets such a reaction from Theo but that he doesn’t feel any joy about that.

He shakes off that feeling and grabs Theo’s wrist, pulling him aside. “Why are you wearing that?” He asks, gesturing at his torso. 

Theo’s mouth opens a little and he looks down at himself like he forgot what he’s wearing. “Um, we’re at a match? And I do go to this school, you know, so I figured a little spirit…” He trails off, raising his fist to the sky half-heartedly. 

“That’s mine.”

“Yeah,” Theo says. Duh, Liam adds in his mind because that’s totally what his tone requires but he’s too busy acting like he’s above them all to speak like they do. Or something like that. Hell if he knew how Theo’s brain works. “Because you’re actually on the field?” He offers as he blinks a few times. He actually looks confused, as if Liam were the one not making any sense, and now that’s just hilarious.

Liam rolls his eyes, pointing a finger at Theo’s chest. “And where did you get it?” Theo wouldn’t admit to stealing it out of his wardrobe or anything because even for him that would be creepy as hell, but now that he’s already here, Liam supposes asking that question as well only makes sense.

Now Theo has the audacity to frown at him. “Jesus, it was with Scott’s clothes, alright? There was a whole pile of them, actually, but I figured I’d wear yours, since - as I said - you’re actually playing. Why’d I wear anyone else’s then?”

That minimizes the creepiness level, then. Melissa has made Theo move into Scott’s old room when he finally left Beacon after Munroe’s hunters were taken care of, making sure he wouldn’t keep sleeping in his truck. Honestly, Liam still isn’t sure how Theo made everyone be on his side all of sudden, especially given the recent history he has with both the McCalls, but he’s stopped thinking about it after, like three weeks. It’s required Mason to snap at him in annoyance, but then he’s just accepted it as the new normal. Getting used to Theo parading around in clothes that clearly don’t belong to him was weird, but he managed. 

And it makes sense that a jersey of his would find its way into Scott’s wardrobe, of course. The sheer number of times he’s gotten changed at his house, either after a team party or when they came from a fight or something like that… Yeah, it’s no surprise his laundry ended up being mixed with Scott’s. And he can’t help but agree that it’s more logical that he wears Liam’s jersey rather than, say Scott’s or Stiles’, yeah, but that still doesn’t explain why he feels okay with Liam’s last name on his back.

“You didn’t say anything about it the last few times, so I thought you didn’t mind,” Theo continues, almost as if he’s able to read Liam’s mind. “And I mean, Mason’s sporting Corey’s name, so I thought maybe you felt--”

“Mason and Corey are dating,” Liam points out. Like that wasn’t obvious enough. He isn’t gonna be jealous of Mason’s clothing reading Corey’s last name when he’s gonna end up wearing that anyway. Or maybe it’s gonna be the other way around, Corey Hewitt and Mason Bryant have the same cringe-level, if you ask him. 

Theo hesitates for a moment before he answers. “Thanks for pointing that out, I had no idea,” he says dryly. For a moment, he looks like he’s split between rolling his eyes and biting his lip and he goes for a sigh instead. “Look, if you don’t want me to wear it anymore, I won’t. Next time I’ll just… show up in some random shirt, I don’t know. I just figured you’d-- I don’t know, I guess I didn’t think much.”

“Shocker,” Liam makes before he can stop himself. Only then do the words hit and he has to admit, he is a little shocked. Theo would listen to him if he told him to fuck off? Well, that’s a dream! It’s not like he’s ever had someone besides his parents or Mason to cheer him on anyway, and his parents have rarely managed to come to games in the first place. He’s pretty used to not being represented in the crowd, even though, technically, everyone should be shouting his name since he’s the MVP, but whatever. Though if one person starts, maybe the rest will follow swiftly? It’d make sense, crowds always need someone to start first. “You can, uh, keep wearing it,” he finally points out when Theo looks like he’s about to check if his brain is still working. “I mean, team spirit, right?”

“Yeah,” Theo nods with a light chuckle. “That’s what I said.”

“You did!” Liam remembers. “So, uh, yeah. That’s that. I was just-- you know, curious where you got it and stuff.”

Theo is back to looking amused more than anything else now. “You thought I stole it from your closet,” he guesses. He doesn’t wait for Liam to answer but shakes his head softly. “Now that’s a whole new level of desperation and that’s not where I’m at,” he adds quietly and Liam can’t quite tell if he’s really meant for him to hear. And before he can ask about it, Theo continues, “Anything else?”

“Uh,” Liam makes cleverly. “No?”

“Good.” Theo nods. He clasps a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it a little. “Then let’s get back to the others and celebrate your win, huh? I’m not showing off your name for nothing.”

He doesn’t wait for Liam’s answer but turns around, demonstrating exactly what he’s just said, before setting off to the rest of the group. Liam keeps standing for a moment, looking after him and - well, he isn’t exactly sure if he’s just sold his soul to the devil or something. For the last two week he’s done nothing but scowl at the fact that Theo wears his jersey like it belongs to him and now, after just one little conversation, he allows him to do it? What the hell is wrong with him? It must be the happiness from the match or something because if he were clear in the head, then he wouldn’t be found dead with that decision on his mind.

Well, no way of turning back now, is there?

+1.

There isn’t a fourth time. 

(There will be, however. A fourth time, and a fifth, and a sixth and so forth. But Liam doesn’t know that yet, so it doesn’t matter. What matters is that there is a time where Theo does not wear his jersey and it’s very meaningful, you’ll see. He’ll see.)

Liam wakes up, a little confused but otherwise feeling fine. For most of the part at least, until he inhales deeply and realizes this is not his bed. His eyes snap open before he can make his body move at all and when he sees a familiar wall, his assumption is proved right: he’s in Scott’s room. It explains why he smelled Scott just now, then. Scott and, well, Theo. 

Because this is Theo’s room now. Temporarily, at least. Liam’s pretty sure that he has to move down into the living room and sleep on the couch when Scott’s home for Christmas vacation or something. Right? Or would Melissa do that to her son? Oh, maybe he’d stay with the Stilinskis or something, Liam doesn’t know. Theo would probably make Scott abandon his bed for him and Scott, the way too nice guy that he is, would actually go through with it. Maybe he’d even offer it to poor Theo, who definitely needs a good night’s sleep all the time.

Which doesn’t explain what Liam is doing in his bed.

Here’s the thing: Werewolves can get drunk. Just put a little Wolfsbane in their drinks and they’re good to go. Careful with the ration because it’s poisonous when it’s too much, but then again, the same goes for regular alcohol when it comes to regular humans. Werewolves don’t get a hangover. Well, Liam supposes they do, but it disappears before they wake up. Accelerated healing and all. God bless. But while the headache disappears, it doesn’t mean that the memories come back. And he’s definitely had a blackout last night. 

And whose fault is it? Well, everyone’s. Everyone but him. For starters, it’s been Corey’s birthday, so that makes him responsible for Mason feeling like he’s had to organize a party. Then, there were Alec and Nolan who wanted to play a drinking game but since one of them isn’t supernatural, it hardly seemed fair to have only them compete. Meaning they wanted a third member in their game. It should’ve been Theo, really, because they’re both such fans of him, but then Theo had to go and claim that he doesn’t drink. Liam had to scoff at that and bam, he became the one stripped of his soberness. 

He won’t lie. He’s been enjoying himself and the way both kids (yes, he’s calling them kids since they’re younger than him, so that counts, goddammit, Mason) were quick to fall over onto their noses. Which doesn’t mean that the same didn’t happen to him either. Nope, it turns out that Wolfsbane-induced alcohol is faster at kicking in than alcohol-only-induced alcohol. Liam isn’t a lightweight, and he knows that, so he figured he could put away a few glasses without worrying. He’s been wrong. Very wrong. 

He remembers faintly now that Corey and Mason had disappeared upstairs at some point, resuming to… well, it’s fairly oblivious. And freaking rude, considering they still had guests, come to think of it. So Theo has become the chaperone of the rest of them, loading them in his truck and bringing them home. Which still doesn’t explain why Liam has slept in Theo’s bed.

God, he hasn’t slept with Theo, has he? No, he’s still dressed and he can’t imagine putting on clothes again when he was as hammered as he was. He’s never understood the movies where people have to look under the covers first before they realize that do, in fact, wear clothes. That’s something you can feel! They’re there on your skin! Seriously, the people who don’t realize it without looking must still be pretty drunk to make it believable. The realization that he did not sleep with Theo sends a wave of relief through his body. If he had and wouldn’t remember, then that would be… well, not good, would it? 

But what is he doing here then? It makes no sense. He should be at home, sleeping in his own bed and be woken up by his mum making some pancakes, if you ask him. He’s worked hard yesterday to keep his kids (oh no, he called them his kids?) in check and deserves a big treat for that. 

He stretches himself as much as he can while still lying down and finds something beneath the pillow he’s been lying on. It’s soft and a little bit silky, so he guesses it should be safe to pull it out from under there. He sure hopes Theo doesn’t do any shit in this bed, for fuck’s sake… No, he would be able to catch the scent of that, wouldn’t he? Not that he’d try to get it-- fucking hell. 

He sits up and looks down at the lump in his lap. It’s dark red, just like the school colours. That makes absolutely no sense, if you ask him, because why the hell would Theo take anything related to school to bed except for, like, textbooks or something to do homework late at night because he’s secretly a nerd? He turns it a little in his hand and-- oh damn. 

There’s letters. White on red. On a fabric in Theo’s bedroom. Oh, fucking hell.

He doesn’t need to straighten the jersey, but he does it anyways. And there it is: DUNBAR. Number 9. He closes his eyes, wondering how he deserves that. It was already weird enough that Theo wears his jersey, now he’s also sleeping with it?

No, maybe it isn’t all that… creepy? No, that isn’t the right word. He doesn’t find it creepy, exactly, to be honest. It’s a little weird because this is his shirt, after all, but then again, this is also Scott’s bed and maybe Theo used to sleep with a plush or something that he doesn’t have here. Who knows. Maybe he just needs something squished up in his arm to fall asleep. Maybe it was the closest thing. Maybe Theo’s a teenage boy who doesn’t throw his laundry in the bin but keeps it just about anywhere.

He lets his eyes take in the room. Nope, it’s probably more tidy than Liam has ever seen it. So Theo is a cleaning freak, got that. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to mess up a space that isn’t his, technically. Now that would be something good in his book, finally. A little out of style since messing up things is all that Theo ever does, but hey, how should he know?

So, here’s a list of weird things that have happened before - well, Liam has no idea how late it is but he guesses that doesn’t matter. He’s been awake for, what, five minutes and he’s already found himself waking up in Theo Raeken’s bed. And not only that, he’s found his old jersey here, too. Pardon him if he’s a little overwhelmed.

He jerks when there’s suddenly the sound of step on the staircase and he looks back down at the jersey. Damn, should he put it back? What would happen if Theo came up here saw him with it? Well, technically he has more right to have it in his hands than Theo does anyway, given that it’s his and all, but still. Besides, he knows just how nosy he can be (and again: this is his!), so it will be nagging on his brain the whole time until he brings it up and how should he do that if he puts it away now? No, this is the perfect set-up.

Now, how should he do this? Drape it over him aesthetically or put it on and wait until Theo notices or--

His thoughts get cut off when Theo pushes the door open softly, throwing a quick look inside before he opens it further. “Morning,” he says carefully. Not exactly friendly but not gruffy either. That might be a first. “You okay?” 

The question in itself almost makes Liam forget his whole agenda at once. He can’t help it, not really when it sounds so genuine. Again, he has to give kudos to the Dread Doctors’ acting class, because seriously, he could’ve almost believed that Theo cares.

His pause in an answer gives Theo enough time to take in the scene. Namely, the way Liam’s still holding the jersey in both his hands, the lettering very much visible so that there’s no way of saying it’s someone else’s. His eyes grow wide, this time comically so almost, and he looks like he’s about to bail. Somehow, though, he freezes in the spot. “Oh damn.”

“Um,” Liam starts, unsure what to say. Like, he doesn’t have any reason to explain what he’s doing with his jersey there, but he still feels like he’s the one who got caught. “I woke up in your bed?”

“Uh, yeah,” Theo says, lifting a hand to the back of his neck. He looks… Liam be damned, is Theo Raeken embarrassed? “You didn’t want to wake your parents up with trampling around all drunk and Melissa had the night shift anyway, so we figured you’d just crash here?”

Liam nods. That makes sense, at least. His parents aren’t all too concerned with him going out party and they certainly don’t assume he stays sober, so they wouldn’t have, like, ripped off his head for drinking. But his mum definitely would have gotten angry if he had woken her up in the middle of the night, so that was a clever idea of his to not go back home, actually. Usually he would’ve just stayed at Mason’s, he guesses, but with how things had developed…

“So you gave me your bed?” Theo still looks pretty unsure about what to do, but he does manage a nod. If he weren’t so damn confused and overwhelmed, Liam would enjoy the scene in front of him. But of course the ass has to pull those emotions in the same moment as he does, damn. “That’s, uh, nice.”

“Guess I should have tidied up first,” Theo says in a mumble, his eyes going back down to the jersey. Now he scratches his cheek.

“It’s been under a pillow here.”

“I know.”

He knows? Liam gulps. Well, there goes the last faint hope of it being an accident or something, just a weird happenstance. That could’ve been, you know, if Theo hadn’t known exactly where it’s been. But come to think about the placement and how Theo knew about that… Oh damn, indeed.

“There’s coffee downstairs,” Theo offers quickly. “No idea if you drink any, but it’s there, so…” He trails off, turning to leave again.

“Wait!” Liam says quickly, jumping off the bed. The jersey falls to the ground and he has to fight with the covers, but he catches Theo at the top stair, still. “Hang on, man--”

“Shh,” Theo makes sharply. “Melissa is asleep,” he adds, sending a quick glance to a door down the hall.

“Well, then come back to the room!” Liam whispers. Aggressively. He knows he wouldn’t listen any other way.

“I want breakfast,” Theo says decidedly. 

Liam rolls his eyes. Great, then they’ll talk in the kitchen. Whatever. He pushes past Theo and sets off; that should be enough of a message, he hopes. There’s probably a very logical and not at all creepy reason for Theo sleeping with his jersey under his pillow - because that’s what it is, right? If it’s put there deliberately, then it must have that reasoning exactly behind it. And that’s… well. It’s pretty weird, to say the least. It explains the embarrassment Theo displayed, but if he thinks Liam isn’t gonna keep probing about it, then he doesn’t know him at all.

They stay silent as Theo prepares his coffee - which is to say, he only puts in sugar and it’s way more than Liam would have expected. Truth be told, he thought Theo drank it black. And yeah, he would be lying if he claimed it’s easy to stay quiet while Theo basically acts like he’s not there, slowly preparing a sandwich for himself. He does leave the bread out, though, indicating that Liam can have some, too, if he wants.

Only that’s not at all what Liam wants. Sure, he’s a little hungry, but then again, he always is. He’s a werewolf, for fuck’s sake, and at the same time a teenage boy. He’s fulfilling all cliches on that, let’s face it. But he’s also as impatient as either of those comes and he doesn’t like being ignored at all, so it’s only a matter of time before he drops his food anyway, so why bother and prepare something? No, he’d rather get answers now before he chickens out again.

“The jersey,” he starts, clearing his throat a little. “It’s, um… It’s been in your bed?”

For a moment, Theo looks like he’s gonna ignore him completely. His attention doesn’t falter from his bread at all while Liam speaks and, honestly, wouldn’t it be just like him if he didn’t answer? That’s a classic Theo right there, only bringing up secrets and trouble and not doing anything to explain or solve. He’s always got his weird little plans and his even weirder behaviour and it’s always driven Liam up the wall. There’s some things that don’t ever change.

But then, after a few seconds or so, he ducks his head again, looking to the side. He looks way too awake for the time - which Liam still doesn’t know, really, but Theo should’ve gone to sleep at pretty much the same time as him, right, so he shouldn’t have been awake for much longer either. It just doesn’t make sense that his eyes are so big already and that his cheek doesn’t have a single crinkle and his hair looks like he’s already put work into it and-- Wait. The point. The point is that Theo looks embarrassed again.

“It’s not--” He starts, but he isn’t sure how to continue. Liam would propose a few sentences, really, but he isn’t sure either of them would fit. It’s not what it looks like? Well, it is a fact that his jersey had been placed under Theo’s pillow. In his bed, where he sleep every single night - except the last one, that is. And there’s a whole variety of words that could describe the whole thing: weird, creepy, eerie, abnormal, strange. Yeah, Liam knows words, too, fuck you, Mason. 

He watches as Theo hesitates a bit more. He puts down his sandwich, picks it up again, licks his lips. It looks like a sped-up movie, to be honest. Then, just as Liam’s about to ask again, he sets the bread down again. “Ithelpsmefallasleep,” he says quickly.

It takes Liam a moment to make sense of the words. He’s a history nerd, alright? So he’s no stranger to languages that write entire sentences stitched together into one word. But it’s one thing to see those written down and a whole other to hear it. Plus, he should’ve been able to get it the first time around, with it being his native language but no, Theo has to go and mumble like Liam hasn’t woken up just like ten minutes ago. Blame someone else. Blame Theo, actually.

“Um, what?” Liam asks. He’s gotten it, to be fair, but it’s not like it makes any sense. Why’d his jersey help Theo is any way?

“I mean, it’s-- uh,” he scratches the side of his neck again, “It’s the scent, I guess? Not that there’s much left of it since, you know, it’s been here for so long and-- Well, I wore it more often than you recently, so there’s not much--”

Liam blinks at him. He doesn’t know what to say! It still doesn’t make any goddamn sense! Why would his scent help Theo fall asleep, like, shouldn’t it to the very opposite? Shouldn’t any reminder of him annoy the fuck out of him just as it happens vice versa? “My scent?” He echoes, unable to keep the confusion out of his voice. “Why would that-- you hate me!”

At once, Theo’s eye snap back at him. His brows are drawn together, not in surprise or just confusion but in doubt, too. “What? No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do!” Liam answers. There’s plenty of evidence for it. Like, maybe they’re not as bad as they could’ve been when they were on the level of Theo manipulating him to kill Scott and all that shit, but it’s still very clear that Theo’s always one step away from ruining his life. He keeps annoying the hell out of Liam and making jokes on his behalf, earning laughter from everyone around them and there’s the way he also keeps staring at Liam like he’s thinking of attacking him in an open field when Liam hasn’t even done anything. It’s happened. A lot, actually, especially during class when he minded his own business.

Miraculously, Theo looks even more confused. “No, I don’t?” He says again, his tone forming a question. “Hell, I’ve never hated you, why would you even--”

“You forced me to reveal myself to Mason,” Liam begins, counting with his fingers. “You killed my girlfriend! You made me kill Scott!”

“You didn’t kill Scott, I did,” Theo cuts in. There’s force behind his words, like it’s important to him that he did it. And well, of course it is. That’s been the whole thing he had worked towards back then, after all. And he did do it in the end, but if it hadn’t been for Liam throwing his punches, then he wouldn’t have stood a chance. Not that Liam is particularly proud of any of his actions there, but he feels like he shouldn’t be underestimated, that’s all. “Besides, it’s not like any of that was motivated by you, I was just doing my thing. Couldn’t have cared less about you personally.”

“Gee, thanks,” Liam makes and rolls his eyes. 

“Back then,” Theo points out.

“And now you hate me,” Liam nods. Because that’s how things have developed. Someone always goes from being indifferent about him to wanting to rip off his face, that’s just how the universe works. “You go around playing nice with my mum and you keep making fun of me during games and--”

“What? I don’t-- I cheer you on!” Theo looks taken aback. “Are you kidding me? I mean, sure, I discuss the game with Mason but-- I don’t make fun of you!” He slams his hands down on the counter, uncharacteristically loud for his usual behaviour, and then he flinches a little and sends a glance upwards to where Melissa’s bedroom lies.

Meanwhile, Liam tries to make sense of it all. If Theo didn’t hate him, then why would he always show up - all the time, really. Why would he seek out Liam in a crowd or during class if not to make fun of him for whatever the fuck he can think up at the moment? It’s a fact that Theo keeps barging in on his life as much as he can and that it drives Liam crazy, so that’s obviously why he’s doing it, right? And okay, maybe he does talk about the game, considering he’s watching it after all, but it’s not like anyone makes him do that. No, that’s all very much Theo’s own fault and it still doesn’t explain what Liam’s scent has to do with anything.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Liam,” Theo snarls. “I don’t hate you. Quite the opposite, really.”

It clicks. A little at least, because everything is still so damn confusing, but he understands what Theo means at last. “Wait. You like me?” He summarizes, his hands falling to his sides. “How?”

Theo massages the bridge of his nose and mutters something to himself. Liam thinks that, if he knew any language other than English, he’d be mumbling something like ‘Fucking hell’ in it or something. There’s lots of fanfiction out there where that happens, he knows that because Mason’s been into this one pairing with a Mexican vampire a few years ago and-- His thought stops when Theo looks back at him with frustration - or maybe anger? - in his eyes. He looks like he’s about to go and break Liam’s nose again and see, that’s why this is so confusing to him, alright? “I’ve been wearing your jersey like Mason wears Corey’s, you idiot,” he presses out. 

Liam can’t keep his mouth closed. Comparing any kind of relationship to Mason and Corey, now that he can definitely understand. “I-- What the fuck?” There’s a little blush creeping onto his face because even if this is Theo, it’s still someone admitting a crush on him, isn’t it? And like, okay, Theo is an ass but he also has a great ass. As a nice face. And nice abs, come to think of it. Of course, he hasn’t seen them in great detail but that’s definitely a given, yeah. But, like, it’s Theo. Theo can’t have a crush on him.

Whatever reaction Theo had expected, this obviously isn’t it. He struggles for a moment and a wave of emotions crosses his face - quite funny, actually - before he settles with a light scowl. There’s a blush on his cheeks visible nonetheless and it’s so contradicting that Liam can’t help but chuckle at it. Sue him, if you want.

“Wait, that makes the jersey thing so much creepier!” He suddenly says before he’s even finished thinking about that. His mind’s racing with impressions, he’s actually impressed it keeps up with them. And, like, if Theo has a crush on him and he does cuddle with Liam’s shirt at night because he likes the scent, isn’t that top-notch stalker behaviour? He isn’t an expert, of course, but it does seem so, even if Liam doesn’t feel as weirded out as he should be, probably.

Theo’s eyes grow wide again. “No, it’s-- Fuck, it’s not like that,” he says quickly, shaking his head. He’s still pretty overwhelmed with the whole thing himself, Liam can tell, because he scratches his neck again and seriously, any more of that and he’ll start bleeding there. “I-- There’s... nightmares. I get nightmares. And they make me wolf out and your scent keeps me grounded and can we drop the whole thing now, please?” It’s the most rambly reply he’s ever gotten from him, probably.

Liam doesn’t know which confession is it that startles him most. There’s so many of them raining down on him and he relaizes now that he doesn’t have a fucking clue about Theo at all. He’d thought he’s all cool and cold with and about his past but apparently not? Now that puts him in a whole new light, he has to admit. Still… He lifts a hand as if he could grab an answer form the air. It would probably be preferable for both of them if he could. “Why-- Why’d my scent keep you from--”

“Fucking hell, I always thought you were clever,” Theo groans. Again, he throws his head back. He keeps talking to the ceiling, as if looking at Liam would only send him over the edge of… something. “We’re each other’s anchors, alright?”

Liam frowns. “You’re not my anchor.”

Theo slowly looks back down on him, this time with his eyes narrowed into a death glare. Now that is something Liam is used to. Angrily glaring Theo? Been there. “Liam,” he says slowly. “I want you to use your one single brain cell and remember who’s been getting you out of anger fits for the past year.”

Okay, so here’s the thing: It has been Theo, but at the same time it hasn’t. Because clearly Theo coming after him when he stormed off before he wolfed out at a teacher or something was only because he wanted him to grow even angrier, right? Theo’s always spat so much bullshit that Liam should have been exploding, basically, but it had made him calm down eventually because it’s just been so stupid. It’s happened time and time again and-- “ Oh .”

“You-- You genuinely didn’t know,” Theo concludes. He lets out a helpless chuckle. As if it had been obvious! Like, how the hell should Liam assume that Theo is his anchor when he’s the reason for him to feel like punching a hole in the wall 90% of the time? “Jesus Christ, you’re-- Okay, what else?”

“What do you mean, ‘what else’?”

“What else did you misunderstand?” Theo wants to know. He rubs over his chin in thought, as if he were an old man or something and oh , so wise. There he is, back to being a know-it-all. “Oh, like you thinking I talk shit about you at the games. You know, I comment . I talk about the matches like any viewer and yeah, maybe I did focus a little on you, but for fuck’s sake--” He trails off.

“You were having a whole rant about how stupid I am for not using my powers on the field!” Liam points out. “In the middle of a crowd, no less. Like, sorry if I thought you were talking shit about me playing human or something.”

Theo closes his eyes as he thinks back to the game. And really, with how he’d acted just a few seconds ago, he has no business looking calm and collected, if you ask Liam. “You mean at the match where you got injured? Which wouldn’t have happened if you had listened to your environment?”

“I did listen! But there was your voice and that kinda-- that was your fault,” Liam closes grumpily. He’s barely able to keep himself from crossing his arms in front of his chest, but his mom always says that it’s a childish reaction and that’s the last thing he wants to show Theo. 

“You got distracted. By my voice.” Theo summarizes. There’s a small smile playing on his lips, so faint that Liam wonders if he even realizes it’s there. It looks… kinda happy, like for real. 

“You said my name,” Liam says. “It was distracting.”

“Sure,” Theo nods. “So, you got distracted by me wondering why you don’t cheat on the field. Like, come on, you should know I don’t play fair.”

“It sounded like you wanted us all to reveal ourselves!” Liam argues. It had, hadn’t it? He doesn’t remember the exact words, granted, but that’s the gist of it, he’s sure.

Theo raises a brow. “Why would I want that? It hasn’t worked well the last time, has it?” He shudders a little, as if a reminder of the War is as frightening to him as to Liam. They’d had the same experiences, actually, when he thinks about it, because Theo had been close to him for pretty much its whole duration. So… Theo’s as scared of the rest of the town knowing about the supernatural as he is? Now that’s a new. He thinks. He isn’t so sure, truth be told. 

“It hasn’t,” Liam says quietly. 

“Yeah,” Theo nods. “So, anything else?”

Liam goes through a whole catalogue of questions, actually. There’s, for starters, the whole deal about Theo choosing to wear his jersey. Like, if the scent was so important to him, then why would he go and waste that by wearing the shirt himself? It doesn’t make sense because if the shirt didn’t smell like Liam anymore, then it wouldn’t have the wished effect. That’s some bullshit logic there. And then there’s the whole thing about Theo having a crush on him makes absolutely no sense with his behaviour. Like, who riles up someone to impress them? That’s as if someone’s social abilities were stuck in, say, elementary school and-- Hang on, when did Theo go into the sewers again? Fuck, that might fit. Maybe he never did learn how you really talk to someone you like. Oh hell, this is so fucking bad. 

The worst thing is that his mind keeps circling back to that. It’s like every single interaction with Theo gets played back to him and he’s supposed to guess what’s been happening inside of Theo’s brain. And at the same time, Theo keeps looking at him with fake patience, his eyes attentive in their stupid place in that handsome face, and-- why does he even think like that right now? Like, objectively he can’t deny that Theo is pretty. That’s a fact and even a straight guy would agree because there’s just something about the sharp lines of Theo’s face and how everything fits together even by colour. Anyway, that isn’t something he should be thinking about when he wonders why the fuck Theo likes him and how he could miss that, really. Except...

“Oh fuck,” he gasps. 

Theo tilts his head and raises a brow at the same time. It’s in perfect synchronisation and if you ask Liam then that should be considered a chimera power, too (Hey, shouldn’t there have been a question about that in his brain, too? He feels like there was something…). Then he grimaces again, as if he were bracing himself for the worst. “What?”

“I’m attracted to you!” Liam declares. He ducks his head then, because he had forgotten about Melissa for a second there. He doesn’t need his alpha’s mom, who’s basically the alpha’s alpha, to be mad at him. But there it is: out, in the open, and now that he’s said it, he only realizes how true it is. Of course he is, actually, because anyone who’s even remotely interested in guy would find Theo attractive, as established. But there’s more, too. “And, like, no wonder I could get so mad at you! My whole attention was on you! Fucking hell, do I have a crush on you, too?”

In response, Theo looks torn about whether he should start laughing or banging his head on the counter. “Are you-- Do you?”

Liam thinks about it and then he thinks about how he always has to think about everything Theo does and how he basically has to talk himself into his annoyance at him most of the time because he felt like he should. Like, that’s not normal, right? And the way he’s always seeking out Theo even if it wasn’t on purpose is probably not exactly typical, either. He always thought it was Theo’s doing, like he’s acted in a way that attracted his attention, but there’s no way that could have happened so often, is there? No, that’s been Liam’s subconscious being interested in what he’s up to. “Uh, I think so?” He offers.

Theo rubs his hands over his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me. How can you be so dumb?”

“Hey!” Liam makes. “It’s not like I had any reason to even think about it, so--”

Theo scoffs. “I’ve been wearing your jersey to three matches. You’ve even asked me about it, so clearly, you had a reason to assume--”

“Okay,” Liam raises his hands in defense. “Maybe I am a little dense.”

“A little?” Theo repeats. Now there’s a smirk back in place - the trademark one and Liam realizes now that yeah , it might be a little bit amused because of him, but it’s not meant viciously. At all. Damn, he’s been an idiot, huh? He watches as Theo jumps up from the barstool he’d been perched on, shoving the plate with his sandwich aside. “Get your phone,” he orders. “We’re going out to grab breakfast.”

“We’re gonna--” Liam starts, jumping off his stool, too. “You mean like a…”

“Yes,” Theo says. And there it is, the eyeroll. The smirk never leaves his face, though. “Like a date. I can’t fucking believe you’re that level of oblivious. Like, to my feelings, okay, but your own?”

Liam doesn’t even listen anymore. His brain is stuck on the whole date part. Fuck, he’s going on a date with Theo Raeken. Who would have thought that would ever happen? He can’t help but bounce a little as he runs up the stairs, retrieving his phone and wallet from where Theo’s put it on the nightstand. As he does so, his eyes fall onto the jersey where he’s left it on the bed and he considers it for a moment-- He reaches for it and exchanges his shirt for it. It seems appropriate, given that it has led to the whole thing. Plus, then it will smell like him again.

Win-win, really.