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Liam has nice hands.
Really nice hands. Big, strong hands. Hands that feel great against bare skin. Theo knows that from experience.
Theo’s sitting in his assigned seat, tie hanging loose around his neck and suit jacket long since abandoned in the pile of coats and blazers at the edge of the dance floor. He’s nursing an almost empty glass, reluctant to actually take the final gulp because Mason has officially cut him off for the night, afraid he might cause a scene if left to his own devices and with an unlimited supply of alcohol.
It’s probably a fair assumption, given the fact all Theo can really think about right now is Liam’s hands, but he sort of misses when everyone considered him this big, bad, evil chimera with no feelings. Life was so much easier.
He tells Mason as much, rolling his head to the right with a scowl aimed in both Mason and Corey’s direction. Mostly in retaliation to the babysitting, but also in hopes of finally warding off the pitying looks they have been sending in his direction all evening.
Theo is fine. He just really likes looking at Liam’s hands.
“We know, buddy,” Mason says in a way that makes Theo think he said the last part out loud.
So Theo likes looking back on the best night of his life, sue him. It’s not like he had a lot of joy in his formative years. And sleeping with Liam was great, amazing even. Sure it sucks that Liam freaked the fuck out the next morning, but Theo can’t really blame him.
He sort of wishes they’d had a chance to talk about it before Liam dived head first back into a relationship with Hayden, but it’s fine. Theo isn’t bitter or anything.
Hayden is nice. Pretty, quick-witted, gentle in a way Theo could never be. She’s probably always been there, in the back of Liam’s mind, holding his heart in her soft, unstained hands. Existing as a reminder of just how much better Liam could do, preventing him from actually stepping over the edge and into the dark and muddy unknown.
Liam’s never really been good with things that aren’t clean and easy and Theo’s just been one, giant, blood stained blank canvas since they first bumped into each other in the woods.
“Hey,” Mason says, kicking at Theo’s shin with his foot. He nods towards the dance floor once Theo looks at him, a hand coming up to card through Corey’s hair as he curls in closer to Mason at the same time. “Why don’t you go see if Lydia wants to dance?”
Theo raises an eyebrow. It’s a trade off. “Here take the flight risk while we have fun at this party.” Despite somewhat popular belief at the moment, Theo isn’t an idiot.
And despite him seeing right through Mason, he does what he’s told anyway.
“You look like you could use a drink,” Lydia says once Theo draws nearer. Then, once she catches a whiff of him, changes her tune. “Of water, you need a drink of water.”
“Mason wants you to dance,” Theo says, because he’s tired and would much rather be sitting and basking in the image of Liam’s hands than doing this.
“Mason wants me to dance?” Lydia glancing over Theo’s shoulder in a way that explains exactly what Mason and Corey are getting up to in his absence from their table.
“With me,” Theo clarifies. “Mason wants you to dance with me.”
Lydia raises an eyebrow but complies all too easily, slipping her hand into Theo’s and dragging him out onto the dance floor. Once settled in a spot to the side, she guides Theo’s hands to her hips and tosses her own around his neck, taking the lead and swaying them both to the soft melody as Theo focuses on staying balanced.
On his left and out of the corner of his eye, Theo can spot Liam and Hayden in a similar position, their heads bowed together, foreheads pressed to each other, noses brushing as they move in time with the music. Hayden’s hand is nestled in Liam’s hair and Liam’s arm is wound tightly around her lower back, his other hand cupping her jaw.
They look picture-perfect, straight out of a romance movie ending sequence. The freeze-frame happily-ever-after for the hero and his love interest just before the credits start rolling. Theo wants to throw up.
“They’re sweet, aren’t they?” Lydia says, catching his line of sight. Theo nods because he doesn’t know what else to say. The veins in Liam’s hand tense as he and Hayden sway to left and Theo’s mouth goes dry because he can remember what that grip felt like against his own lower back.
“It’s good that he gets to be happy,” Lydia continues, and Theo doesn’t want to think that it’s targeted, but she’s more than likely aware of everything that’s going on around her, so it probably is. “It’s so hard for us to find something real.”
“You think it’s real?” Theo asks, because he can’t help himself.
Lydia studies him, eyes narrowed. Theo wants to squirm. Maybe drinking was a bad idea. “You don’t?”
Theo thinks the feeling of Liam’s hands on his skin was real. He isn’t too sure about everything that followed though. Maybe Tara finally found a new way to rip out his heart. It’d make more sense than whatever is actually going on.
“We’re at their wedding,” Theo swallows. “Don’t think it gets more real than that.”
He’s suddenly painfully aware about how many people at the reception have supernaturally enhanced hearing, the bride and groom included. Theo just really hopes they’re too lost in each other’s eyes to pay attention to anything else.
-
Theo is wrong. Theo is so very wrong. Because possibly seconds after convincing himself no one was even paying attention to his pity party of one, he hears; “Mind if I cut in?”
For a split second, Theo thinks he’s hallucinating. Because there is absolutely no way the hands he’s been thinking about all night are winding themselves around his waist like it isn’t Liam’s fucking wedding and they aren’t totally platonic bros that had sex that one time before never speaking about it again.
Theo is way too drunk for this.
One glance to his left tells him that Lydia and Hayden are in a similar position. Which means this is probably the time where the bride and groom begin to make their rounds, exchanging pleasantries and farewells as the reception winds down to a close. Theo wants to flip off whoever is in charge of the universe.
“Having a good night?” Liam asks, eyebrow raised.
Theo’s words are only slightly slurred. “The best.”
Liam grins. “I can tell.”
“Are you having a good night?” Theo asks, because there isn’t much else he can say. Not without actually ruining the night. And he’s really trying not to do that. Has been doing that all day actually. He has serious willpower. Everyone should be impressed.
“Oh yeah,” There’s a flicker of something in Liam’s eye. Theo decides he imagines Liam’s eyes dropping down to his lips. He’s very drunk right now. “Definitely.”
“Great,” Theo says, and then he steps out of Liam’s arms and away from his hands. Specifically the imprint of cool metal that Theo can unfortunately feel through his shirt. Another very physical reminder that Liam is with Hayden. That those amazing hands are Hayden’s. That the ring that looks so good on Liam’s finger is Hayden’s.
“Yeah,” Liam’s eyebrows are furrowed but Theo’s already moving to walk away. “Yeah, great.”
Liam’s happy and Theo’s alive and whatever sick game the universe, or Tara– or maybe even Stiles, for all Theo knows– is playing, is almost over, because as soon as the festivities finish up, Theo’s hightailing it out of Beacon Hills, like he should’ve done years ago.
Because honestly, Theo was talking with Isaac back at the ceremony, and it sounds like he needs his own trip to France.
