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Theo hears the footsteps half-muted in the carpet, and he realizes the door could probably use some WD-40, but he’s still surprised by the sudden weight all along his back, pressing him into the mattress and sending the bedsprings creaking. He turns his head, the action making Liam’s long hair tickle at the back of his neck, and his words come out muffled as he asks, “Everything okay?”
Liam lets out a groan, shifting above him, legs tangling with his own and chests moving in sync as they breathe. There’s another bit of wriggling, Liam’s weight distributing more evenly, and then hands are worming their way under Theo’s chest and—
“What the fuck?” Theo splutters, reaching back to swat at Liam’s side, uncaring of how hard the hit lands because Liam’s hands are on his chest and squeezing. “Liam,” he says again, stern, “what the fuck are you doing?”
“Today sucked,” Liam explains without actually explaining, while his fingers knead and massage Theo’s pecs. Theo’s cheeks are absolutely on fire, and he shoves his face back into the pillow to try and hide it, but he’s sure Liam can feel the heat radiating off of him. “School sucked, practice sucked. Everything sucked. Am I not allowed to cuddle with my boyfriend now?”
“Is that what you’re calling it?”
Cuddling is watching a movie Theo missed out on while their heads lay atop one another and their fingers lace together; cuddling is Theo daring to pull Liam into his arms, press his lips to his hairline and squeeze him until the beta pushes him away to take in air; cuddling is sharing a pillow while Liam slots his knees behind Theo’s, wraps his arms around his stomach, and holds him just like that until they both fall asleep. This is borderline harassment—this is Liam playing with Theo’s chest, groping his pecs like they’re… as if they were….
“I’ll stop if you really want me to,” Liam murmurs into the space between Theo’s shoulders. Theo can feel his lips moving through the thin fabric of his shirt. His hands don’t stop their movement, and it’s not like it’s uncomfortable, save for the low-level arousal that’s begun to gather in Theo’s belly, it’s just different. Unexpected. Not what they do, ever, until now.
He takes a breath, listens to Liam’s own breathing, the steadying pound of his heart. Eventually, Theo sighs. “It’s fine,” he says. And then he thinks about admitting to it even feeling almost actually kind of nice, but that’s a step too far, and he still is struggling to lift his head from the pillow.
Liam lets out a contented little noise, sinking further into Theo, one hand releasing him to brush along the underside of his jaw, curve his thumb around it, wedging between the pillow and his face. Theo angles his head, letting the digit press to his lips, an imitation of a kiss.
“Thanks,” Liam says.
“Don’t mention it,” Theo replies. “Seriously.”
When Liam delivers his own kiss to the nape of Theo’s neck, it’s interrupted only by the force of his smile, which then gets pressed into Theo’s skin instead. It’s a fair trade-off, Theo thinks, before he lets himself relax completely under his boyfriend and into the bed.