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Theo leans against his truck, waiting for Liam to finish up at practice. He isn’t sure when this had become a regular thing—him picking up Liam after practice, waiting around like some kind of chauffeur—but he doesn’t exactly mind it. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud. Liam's already too confident in his friendship with Theo, so that spoiled beta doesn’t need more proof that Theo might, actually, care for him.
The sounds of footsteps make Theo look up. Liam’s jogging over, still wearing his Beacon Hills lacrosse jersey with the number nine bold across his chest. His hair’s damp, sticking up in every direction, and his face is flushed from exertion. But he is still grinning like he’d just won a game. Theo tries hard not to look too closely, but it’s hard not to notice the way Liam’s eyes lit up when he spots Theo waiting for him. Like this might be the best part of his day. And to make sure Theo doesn't do something as stupid as smile at the idiot, he climbs into the truck and scowls his expression into something neutral.
“Sorry I took so long,” Liam chirps as he hops into the passenger seat and tosses his bag into the back without a care in the world. “Coach wouldn’t let us leave until Nolan figured out how to catch a ball without fumbling it every time.”
Theo rolls his eyes, starting the engine with a familiar annoyed huff. He tries to ignore how Liam's scent—sweat, mint and vanilla—is filling the cab. “What else is new? That kid’s got butterfingers for days.”
Liam laughs at that. The sound is light and carefree, and Theo can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips. It’s their usual, comfortable rhythm they settle into as they pull out of the parking lot. Liam talks animatedly about practice, about how he’d scored twice and how Greenberg had accidentally tripped over his own feet, causing the whole team to burst into hysterics and Theo rolls his eyes, nodding along, half-listening, half-focused on the road.
That is until Liam’s voice suddenly hits a higher pitch of excitement. “Oh my god, Theo, look!” Liam leans over, and points at the keychain dangling from the ignition. It’s a small billiard ball with the number six on it. Nothing fancy or special.
“Your keychain! It’s the same number as my jersey!”
Theo, who would deny the hiccup his heart did first at Liam's screech and then when Liam's hand had come impossible close to his leg, glances at Liam and then at the keychain, raising an eyebrow. “Liam, you idiot, it’s a six. Not a nine.”
Liam squints, tilting his head as if that would somehow change the number.
“Oh,” he says, sounding mildly disappointed. “Well, that would have been cute.”
Theo nearly chokes on his own breath and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. Cute???
“Cute?” he echoes, wondering if Liam may have gotten hit too hard on the head during practice. “Why the hell would that be cute?”
Liam just grins, that mischievous, boyish grin that (unfortunately) makes Theo feel all warm and shit and replies, “I don’t know, you could be my biggest fan or something. Like, oh wow, Theo Raeken, number nine superfan.”
There’s no way in hell Liam had just said that.
“Liam, shut up. I literally tried to kill you.”
The beta just laughs, loud and unbothered, like the whole murder thing was just a funny anecdote now. He seriously has some horrible survival skills. The younger werewolf nudges Theo’s shoulder, completely undeterred by the dark look Theo’s throwing him. “Yeah, yeah, you keep bringing that up, but I think you’re just trying to distract from how much you secretly love my number nine jersey.”
Theo tries to come up with a snarky retort, something to derail the conversation and wipe that smug grin off Liam’s face, but he finds himself at a loss. How can he argue with someone who thinks bringing your own dark history is a way of distraction? It’s absurd. So absurd, it sounds almost believable. And maybe that’s why Theo finds himself thinking about it even after Liam moved on, talking about the latest drama with Mason and Corey like they hadn’t just skirted around the edges of something personal. Something that had almost fried Theo's brain.
When they pull up to the Dunbar-Geyer house, Liam unbuckles his seatbelt, pausing before he gets out. He turns to Theo, eyes impossible blue.
“Thanks for the ride, Theo,” he says, softer now, almost sincere. “And hey, maybe one day you’ll get a number nine keychain. Just for me.”
Theo snorts, shaking his head and hopes he doesn't actually blush even though his cheeks feel impossible warm all of a sudden. “Yeah, keep dreaming, Dunbar.”
Liam shoots him one last smile, the kind that was all teeth and bright eyes, and then he’s out of the truck, jogging up to his front door. Theo watches him go. The familiar mix of fondness and exasperation tugging at his chest. He waits until Liam is safely inside before pulling away. But even on his drive back to his apartment, his mind won't stop replaying the conversation. Unable to let it go.
When Theo gets home, he’s about to toss his keys onto the counter but stops and glances at the keychain again, dangling from his fingers. It’s just a six. Nothing special. But now all he can see is Liam’s stupid hopeful expression, the way he’d gotten all excited over something as trivial as a number. Theo runs a thumb over the small billiard ball, feeling the smooth surface under his skin.
“Biggest fan,” Theo mutters to himself, scoffing at the absurdity of it all. But his chest feel all warm.
He stares at the keychain a moment longer, turning it over in his hand, again and again. It’s just a stupid piece of plastic, a random trinket he’d picked up who-knows-where. But now, with Liam’s voice echoing in his head, Theo can’t help but tilt it just slightly, squinting as if the six could somehow be a nine. It’s ridiculous, but the thought of people mistaking it for Liam’s number—the thought of having that small, private connection, even if it’s just in his mind—doesn’t seem so bad.
Maybe, Theo thinks, letting out a quiet breath, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if people think it is a nine. Maybe it is okay to hold onto something that reminds him of Liam. Even if it’s just a dumb joke between them. Theo sets the keychain down, feeling a strange warmth settle in his chest. Because for all his attempts to keep his distance, Theo knows he’s become Liam’s biggest fan a long time ago.