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Liam’s patience is already hanging by a thread and it’s only getting thinner as he watches Theo toss his jeans onto the floor with his usual carelessness. It leaves him in just his shirt and boxers, which Liam tries hard to ignore to be able to focus on his annoyance. The whole ordeal is such an infuriatingly Theo thing to do—completely at odds with the meticulous, perfectionist way he handles everything else in life. But seeing Theo be comfortable enough to be messy makes Liam’s chest ache in that annoyingly sweet way he’d never admit out loud.
Theo is his . Messy and smug and so unapologetically himself that it drives Liam insane more often than not. And no matter how much he complains, no matter how many times they butt heads over the smallest things, he loves Theo with every stubborn fiber of his being. And the worst part? Theo knows it.
The chimera flashes him a lazy, knowing smirk. It effortlessly sets Liam’s blood boiling and heart racing at the same time. It’s infuriating how easily Theo reads him. Like he’s sifting through the mix of affection and exasperation swirling in Liam’s head.
“Don’t even think about it,” Liam says, holding up a hand like he’s halting traffic as Theo takes his usual step toward the bed. He’s clearly planning to claim his spot under the covers first but Liam puts a stop to that.
Theo pauses and raises an eyebrow. “Oh, we’re doing this again?” His voice is flat, but the glint in his eyes is unmistakable. The bastard is enjoying this. Of course, he is. “Dunbar, it’s late, I’m tired, and I don’t have the energy to fight you over—”
“I was the big spoon last time,” Liam interrupts him, crossing his arms and planting himself firmly between Theo and the bed. They’ve had this argument at least once a week since they started sharing a bed every night, and Liam isn’t about to let Theo win. Not again.
Theo snorts unconvinced. “Mhm, sure you were.” And without missing a beat, he crouches slightly, clearly preparing to dive onto the bed like he didn’t just hear Liam.
“Don’t you dare,” Liam growls, and fastly steps forward to block him. His voice sharpens as he repeats, “I was the big spoon last time.”
Theo straightens, looming just enough to be obnoxious about it. As if the two inches he has over Liam make him automatically right. (They don’t. But they make Liam more annoyed.) “You want to be little spoon that badly?” he drawls, his tone dripping with mockery, as if Liam is the ridiculous one here and he himself. “What’s the big deal? You’re, like, half my size—”
“I am not half your size!” Liam snaps, his voice rising an octave in pure indignation. “And yeah, I want to be little spoon! You always hog it, and it’s my turn!”
“Because I like it,” Theo retorts, as if that’s all the explanation he needs. He turns, making a move toward the bed again, but Liam grabs his arm, yanking him back. They’re not finished yet.
“Nope. Not tonight,” Liam insists, narrowing his eyes and putting on his best alpha-in-training tone. Unfortunately, they both know that it never works on Theo. It’s mostly for show at this point, but Liam likes to pretend it carries weight.
Theo sighs. It’s the exaggerated kind that makes it clear he thinks this is all nonsense. that Liam is being dramatic and whiny. “Dunbar, it’s way too late for one of your tantrums.”
“It’s not a tantrum,” Liam bites back, and crosses his arms more firmly, as though his posture alone will win the argument. “It’s about fairness.”
“Fairness?” Theo repeats, snorting as he folds his arms, looking every bit like the reasonable one in the room. “You can’t be serious.”
“Damn right, I am!” Liam fires back, pointing dramatically at the bed like it’s a crime scene. “You’ve been little spoon for four nights in a row , Theo. It’s my turn.”
Theo glances from Liam to the bed, clearly unimpressed. He takes a deliberate step toward his usual spot, but Liam moves to block him. Again.
“Listen up, you smug bastard,” Liam says, poking Theo in the chest for emphasis. “You keep saying I’m smaller than you—which I’m not, by the way.” Theo quirks an eyebrow, his grin widening just enough to be maddening. “But by your logic, it only makes sense for me to be the little spoon. So I am little spoon tonight.”
Theo tilts his head slightly, like he’s trying to process the absurdity of the argument. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It does,” Liam huffs, standing his ground like it’s a battlefield. He grabs Theo’s wrist, giving it a tug in an effort to maneuver him toward the bed, but Theo doesn’t budge. “You’re always cold. And I’m always too hot. And I want—” He stops abruptly, his face flushing as the words catch in his throat.
Theo’s grin spreads slow and infuriating across his face, and his voice drops into that low, teasing tone that always gets under Liam’s skin. “Oh, so you want me to hold you?” He steps into Liam’s space, practically purring now. “Forgot you’re just a clingy little werewolf who needs to be held.”
“I am not clingy!” Liam protests, his face burning. He pauses, drawing in a breath to compose himself before continuing. “Obviously, I want you to hold me. Don’t act all cool about it—that’s why you always want to be the little spoon. So I’ll hold you .”
Theo shrugs, entirely unbothered. He keeps wearing that infuriatingly smug expression that Liam swears he keeps on reserve just for moments like this. “Well, with everything I’ve been through, I should be the one being held. All the time,” he says. His voice is practically dripping with mock sincerity. He shifts slightly, his expression turning just dramatic enough to drive the point home. “I mean, I need all the affection I can get. You know, to make up for growing up without love? Being raised by evil scientists? Being turned into a child soldier? Really, Liam, as my boyfriend, you should be more supportive.”
Liam throws his hands up in pure frustration. “You can’t just pull the trauma card to win a spooning argument! You don’t even wanna to go to therapy or talk about half the shit you’ve been through! You don’t get to use it now!”
Theo smirks, his eyes glinting as he leans closer, arms still folded like he’s the picture of calm. “Watch me.”
“You’re impossible,” Liam mutters, the growl in his throat bubbling closer to the surface. He grabs Theo by the shoulders and pushes him back onto the bed, his movements more forceful than necessary. Theo lets out a surprised huff but doesn’t resist, looking up at Liam with a mix of amusement and something suspiciously close to pride.
“Oh, look at you,” Theo says, his voice dropping into a low, taunting drawl. “Getting all bossy. It’s cute.”
“I’m not cute,” Liam snaps, climbing onto the bed and pinning Theo down. His cheeks are flushed, but his determination outweighs his embarrassment. “I’m serious. I want to be little spoon tonight.”
Theo stares at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighs dramatically, the sound heavy with exaggerated resignation. “Fine,” he says, but the sly glint in his eyes doesn’t waver. “You want to be little spoon? Go ahead.”
It takes a second for Liam to register that as he’s caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Wait, really?”
“Sure,” Theo says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. He stretches his arms above his head, the motion deliberate, making him look far too attractive for someone who’s being such a pain. Stupis, beautiful bastard. “But I’m not holding you.”
“What?” Liam sputters, his voice rising in disbelief. “But that’s the whole point ! You’re supposed to hold me!”
Theo grins, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in that maddening way Liam both hates and secretly loves. Without another word, Theo rolls away from him, turning to face the other side of the bed. He pulls the blanket up over his shoulder, not even sparing Liam a glance. “Good night, Dunbar.”
The growl in Liam’s throat finally escapes as he glares at Theo’s back. “You manipulative bastard,” he mutters under his breath. He reaches out, grabbing Theo’s shoulder and yanking him back around to face him. “You’re supposed to hold me.”
Theo raises an eyebrow, his expression the picture of feigned innocence. “You said you wanted to be little spoon. I said fine. I didn’t agree to anything else.”
Liam narrows his eyes, the realization dawning. This wasn’t compliance; it was a game. Of course it was a game.
“You’re impossible,” Liam grits out, his frustration bubbling over.
“What? Got a problem?” Theo replies, his tone light and dripping with smugness. His smile sharpens into something wicked, the glint in his eyes daring Liam to push back. He looks entirely too pleased with himself, clearly intent on playing this out to the bitter end.
Liam lets out a long, exasperated huff, flopping onto his back with all the drama of someone who has officially had enough. He stares at the ceiling like it’s personally betrayed him. “Fine. Be like that.”
“Oh, I will,” Theo says, his voice practically humming with satisfaction. He shifts casually, pressing his back against Liam’s side, clearly content with his self-proclaimed victory. “Good night, Liam.”
For a solid thirty seconds, Liam glares at the ceiling, stewing in silence, until his resolve crumbles. He rolls over, scooting closer to Theo and pressing up against his back. “I hate you,” he mutters, his voice muffled against Theo’s shoulder.
“No, you don’t,” Theo replies easily, still not bothering to turn around. His tone is maddeningly smug, so sure of himself it makes Liam’s jaw clench—and yet, it’s not wrong. He does love Theo.
“You’re such a jerk,” Liam grumbles, his hand sneaking around Theo’s waist anyway. The moment his arm settles there, he feels the tension leave Theo’s body. His boyfriend instinctively leaning into the touch. The shift is subtle, but it’s enough for Liam to notice.
“I know,” Theo admits softly. Like he’s confessing something he doesn’t say out loud too often.
For a while, neither of them speaks. The room grows quiet, save for the soft sound of their breathing. Liam presses his face into Theo’s back, letting himself get lost in the warmth and comfort of being close. It’s annoying how good this feels, how right it is. With a quiet sigh, he squeezes Theo’s waist, pulling him closer.
“Fine,” Liam mutters, the corner of his mouth twitching into a reluctant smile. “You win.”
Theo’s laugh is soft and almost affectionate, like he’s savoring the victory. “I always do.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“You’re clingy.”
Liam huffs, but instead of firing back, he tightens his grip, leaning in to press a quick kiss to the back of Theo’s neck—just to annoy him. “Shut up.”
Theo sighs, but this time it’s genuine, a sound of contentment rather than dramatics. “Fine. You can be little spoon tomorrow.”
Liam grins against Theo’s back, his voice warm and teasing. “Deal.”
Theo laces their fingers together where Liam’s hand rests on his stomach, his thumb brushing over Liam’s knuckles. “Now go to sleep, Dunbar.”
Liam closes his eyes, feeling the steady rhythm of Theo’s breathing and the soothing warmth of his body. He knows they’ll bicker about this again tomorrow, but for now, wrapped up in Theo, everything feels right. It feels like home.