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Werewolves had a sharp sense of hearing. And that extended to lies, they could detect one from across a room. Lies, however, were complicated, making it tough to distinguish between types. It wasn't just about identifying if a lie was cruel, protective, or stemmed from self-deception. The key was understanding the subtleties. Liam had been aware of Theo Raeken's self-deception for two years, ever since he enrolled at the same California university as Liam. Theo claimed the biology program was just a coincidence. Liam knew better, though. This time, Liam was drawing a line. He hadn't done that before, but things were different now. They were twenty, and sharing a small apartment near campus had changed things. Rent was the main reason they'd moved in together but it had become more than that, even if they hadn't said it out loud.
Theo's apartment had two bedrooms, but avoidance was noticeable. His room was more like storage for textbooks that never got opened. The bed looked unused, too. It was clear he spent most of his time on the couch, where the cushions had molded to his shape. There was a joke between them about the lease, neither could recall signing it, they just showed up with boxes one day, and now they weren't sure who had moved in with whom. Liam's space was neatly organized, reminders sorted by color on a corkboard. In contrast, Theo's area was a mess, with three energy drink cans littered about, and a chef's knife sat there, its presence something he didn't care to explain. They never finished unpacking, it seemed, as their belongings were still packed up.
Things were working. And that was annoying. Nobody wanted to examine the reason behind this success. Often, it seems, things work when nobody's looking too closely. And that had been the case for a year and a half now.
Theo said he was working on the task but Liam had doubts, his gaze fixed on the laptop screen as he wondered what was really on it. The glow in Theo's eyes didn't look like it was coming from a citation manager. Theo's supposed lab report wasn't getting done, or so it seemed, his attention still on the laptop.
“I stand in the kitchen, and you give me a look like I'm some stray you're considering taking in, but not quite sure about.”
“Strays are dangerous. They might bite if I get too close, and that's why I approach them with caution.”
Theo didn't look up, saying “cute.”
Liam was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, when he thought back to what Mason had told him two days ago. The concern on Mason's face had been unusual, and it was about Theo, who was having trouble sleeping. Mason had seen Theo at the twenty-four-hour diner near campus three times that week, each time at three in the morning, and he always had the same cup of coffee, which he'd nurse for hours.
“Mason says you aren’t sleeping, with nights often ending at four, and this pattern has continued all week.”
“Mason's done a good job with that surveillance report, he deserves thanks for it. What he shouldn't do, though, is stick his nose in other people's business.”
“He’s your friend, and he only wants to help.”
“How lucky for me.”
Theo's tone was flat and mocking when he said, "Is that what we are, friends?" That answer seemed clear to him, so he waited for confirmation. He looked up, expecting him to respond.
Liam's pulse stumbled, and Theo picked up on it immediately. That was all the warning he needed. Liam's heart had a habit of betraying him, giving away his emotions about half a second before he even realized what was going on.
Liam spoke rapidly. “We'd been living together for a year and a half, so he knew me pretty well by then. My coffee isn't great, he said, but it's what he wants in the morning. What bothers him is my mindset, I still don't think I deserve good things, which he believes is misguided. He's had enough of listening to me talk myself out of getting what I truly want.”
Theo shut the laptop, his actions slow and deliberate, frustration evident on his face, his jaw clenched. "You're starting to sound like a self-help book," he said, his tone firm. Liam wasn't going to get the better of him, and Theo certainly wasn't about to let him think he knew all his secrets; that was information Liam just didn't have.
Liam's tone was level. "You've had two years to get used to this," he said, "but you still act surprised when someone notices, which is what's strange. You turn away from it every day, without being forced to, even when stopping would've been easier.”
He used a harder tone, saying “it's not something you can just decide to do. Change like that takes time, he said; it doesn't happen overnight. You can't just wake up and think you're not a monster anymore, that's naive; it's a lot tougher than that.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“That sounds about right.”
“I will handle that part.”
“Your worrying is a problem. It's unappealing when you worry about everything. Constantly worrying is a major turn-off, and it's not attractive.”
“Still though.”
Theo's dry tone had a hint of fondness, and he agreed.
A loud pop song pulsed through the wall, its tune unidentifiable. Meanwhile, the refrigerator hummed in the background. It had been two years since that chaotic hospital hallway, where they were drenched in someone else's blood; now their concerns were more ordinary, disagreements about coffee and sleep schedules.
Theo's words were barely audible as he said, "I don't know how to do this." He'd survived this far, and that was a fact. Being useful, making himself indispensable, that was what he knew. People needed to want to keep him around, even if they probably shouldn't. He could read people, get ahead of them before they became a threat. It had kept him alive, and he knew it. He didn't like the idea of staying and having someone he didn't know crash with him. People would laugh at him for saying that, and he'd probably leave, just to spite them, and go stay at Corey's instead.
Liam's hands went up. "I'm not laughing," he said, and his tone was serious. Generally, people waited for the worst to happen, but in this case, it already had, they just hadn't realized it yet. He'd been trying to make him see this for a year and a half now, and the whole time, he’d been doing it.
“It's been two years since I started this.”
Liam didn't flinch, accustomed to Theo's intense stare. Theo's gaze, probing for any hidden agenda, no longer unsettled him. With nothing to conceal, Liam allowed Theo to study him, a tactic he'd perfected over time in response to this very look, one that had become all too familiar.
Theo's smirk wasn't entirely believable as he asked, "Why me?" It was partially deflection. He said “you're captain of half the intramural teams. It's almost embarrassing.” His tone shifted to self-deprecation; you could choose someone without a body count or someone who doesn't have abandonment issues so complex they could be a thesis topic.
Liam stopped near Theo in the kitchen, and the warmth coming off his skin was easily felt by the werewolf. At this point, sarcasm wasn't an option anymore. He asked, "Isn't that?" then continued, "someone who's spent years trying to change and has mostly succeeded, even if he's too busy being a jerk to notice it?" Liam admitted, "I haven't wanted anyone else in a long time, probably longer than I'd like to admit." He also said, "I just didn't think you'd let me say it without making a joke to avoid hearing it.”
Theo's clipped tone made his annoyance clear. He said "I'm bad at this", which sounded like self-deprecation. "Don't expect me to get sappy" was his next line; he wasn't comfortable with emotional displays, and they'd be out of character for him.
“Your reputation precedes you, one of trying to take over the town with an army of chimeras, which makes it unlikely that showing a softer side would have a big impact at this point.”
“That's a low blow.”
Liam spoke more softly, his tone less harsh, as he admitted "neither of us is great at this." He conceded that he often pushed too hard and struggled with knowing when to back off. His temper remained a challenge. Theo was told "we're both a mess" and Liam made it clear that perfection wasn't his goal. He said "I'm not asking for clean, I'm asking for real," emphasizing his desire for authenticity.
Theo said, "Real's overrated," though his tone no longer sounded convinced.
Theo had learned to hide his feelings over the years, as people often used them against him once they knew his weak spots. A decade of experience had ingrained this habit, and even after two years, it still surfaced, like now, when he instinctively scowled, more out of habit than any real intention. Liam, however, wasn't fooled.
Theo said, "If I do this, I won't be good at it right away. I'll pull back when I shouldn't, and I'll say something cutting when I mean something else. It's easier that way. I won't tell you things I should, and I'll make you regret this at least once a week. That's just how I'm. I'm not going to change overnight because of a speech. I know what I do, and I'll probably keep doing it.
Liam said, "I'm not asking you to be fixed, Theo."
What he wanted was to be there for Theo, to support him when things weren't okay. He told Theo they'd work through it together, that's all.
Theo let out a laugh, disbelieving. He's going to be tough to deal with, and he's well aware of it. "I'll pick fights for no reason," he says, "just to test you” he adds.
Liam's eyes locked onto Theo's as he slowly extended his hand, giving Theo ample opportunity to retreat, his fingers coming to rest against Theo's jaw. His thumb gently brushed the line of Theo's jaw. He'd known Theo for a while, and it wasn't like they were strangers. I've spent years waiting to see you let yourself be happy, Liam thought. Now, I'm done waiting. I want to be that something good for you, if you're willing to let me. Make another joke about this, and my mind won't change, I'm not taking it back.
Theo's "Noted" was straightforward, his voice said something entirely different, no longer steady.
He leaned into Liam's hand, eyes closed, and his shoulders dropped, releasing a tense pose he'd apparently been holding for a while; for a long time, he remained still.
He whispered, barely audible, "Don't make this weird."
“Things are weird already. We are what we are, and it's not like we can change that now.”
“That's not comforting.”
“It's just the facts.”
Liam's slow approach gave the other man plenty of time to step back, but he held his ground, jaw clenched tight. His face was a mix of fear and longing. Then Liam kissed him.
Theo's lips met Liam's in a soft, gentle press that sent a surge of urgency through him. He fisted his hand in Liam's shirt and pulled him closer. Liam's fingers moved from Theo's jaw to the back of his neck, where they curled into his hair. Their lips moved together, and a low sound rumbled in Theo's throat, escaping his lips to be muffled against Liam's mouth, surprising him.
Theo's breath escaped his lips as he exhaled, forehead still pressed to the other man’s, and they swayed, a little unsteady, after the separation.
He said it's not bad coffee, his voice rough. You've got pretty terrible taste, and it's weird that you keep drinking it even though you're always complaining about it.
Liam's forehead landed on Theo's shoulder and he burst out laughing, saying it's really bad, but he drinks it anyway. That's pretty much his thing. He's okay with it being terrible.
Theo's "watch it" was subdued, its typical bite softened by a warmth that rarely seeped into his tone. He followed up with "yeah, I'm starting to get that," a statement that betrayed a hint of his usual reserve.
What matters is that it's not entirely negative; perhaps it's not a bad thing.
“I tend to say everything in a negative way. Keep up.”
Liam's laugh was a soft huff against his shoulder, barely audible. He didn't pull away, and they just stood there. It was quiet in the kitchen, the only sound was the muffled music from next door, which wasn't loud enough to be worth noticing. Nobody bothered with more lights, and the lab report on the counter was ignored. The coffee maker sat there, cold and silent.
They stayed frozen, and Theo wasn't going anywhere, at least for a bit.