Page 11 of Stop and Seek (Our Childish Games #1)

Theo stopped once they were inside the door, his hand on the wall. “I fucking—” he inhaled. “I hate stairs.”

They hadn’t even reached the stairs yet.

Noah looked from the three flights back to Theo.

How was his skinny ass planning to manage that when he couldn’t even walk straight for a hundred feet?

Stubborn .

Shaking his head, Noah slung Theo’s arm over his shoulder.

“I was going to say, if you fall and end up bleeding, no one’s awake. I can call an ambulance, you dipshit. Unless my phone’s water-logged.”

“Dipshit,” Theo giggled, the weight of his body too nice against Noah’s. “I like you. You’re a hoot.”

“Who says hoot?”

“Me. Here, stop.” Theo motioned to the door right off the first flight of stairs—Apartment B.

Noah’s gaze dropped and he leaned closer. “Why is there soup at your door?”

“Because Mrs. Rosario is a bomb-ass librarian. ”

That… answered absolutely nothing.

Noah eyed the take-out container, hoping for a further explanation, but Theo was too busy fumbling with his keys. He nearly dropped them twice before the door swung open and he wiggled free from Noah’s hold and slipped inside.

Noah should have followed him in.

He meant to.

But he froze in the doorway.

He’d seen three types of living situations in his life.

There was his own—crappy, yeah, but it was semi-clean.

Then there was Max’s: pristine because she paid someone to make it perfect.

And Kyran’s: a chaotic mess of sponsorship boxes and social media stuff.

But Theo’s apartment was on a whole different level.

No carpet.

No hardwood.

No tile.

No floor at all—just an ocean of clutter swallowing the room whole.

Clothes, books, take-out boxes, and actual, literal trash stacked in unstable towers.

The only clear space was the couch.

The mess was almost impressive, but holy shit.

It was more tomb than home .

Theo waded through the crap. He kicked off his shoes, rattling a pile of red plastic cups. Noah saw him throw his keys too, but where they landed was anyone’s guess.

Stepping inside, Noah shut the door behind him .

“You should drink some water,” he called when Theo disappeared into one of the back rooms.

He waited a minute.

Then two.

Then five.

There should’ve been some sort of response .

Noah followed, navigating the minefield of clutter. He shoved things aside with his foot, flicking on the hallway light when the darkness became too risky.

The bedroom, at least, was better than the rest.

Barely.

He bit back the mass of questions .

Where are your sheets?

Do you even own them?

What happened to you?

Instead, he perched on the edge of the stained mattress, watching Theo sprawled out in his soaked clothes, giant glasses sliding down his nose.

“Theo.”

Nothing.

Noah shook him, gentle at first, and then a little harder.

“How do you get to bed and die? ” he muttered.

The room was quiet except for Theo’s quiet breathing and the rain splattering against the window.

Fate really did have a funny way of working things out.

Noah reached over, hesitating for a second before he removed the glasses and smoothed his hands up Theo’s face.

Theo looked so… peaceful. He wasn’t spitting sarcastic remarks, or swearing him under the bus. There were only the da rk rings under his eyes that looked like bruises, and his hair plastered to his cheeks.

“You’re too damn cute when you’re asleep.”

Running his thumb over Theo’s bottom lip, he traced the damp skin.

Something caused Theo to jerk, and Noah stopped. His heart pounded against his ribs, louder than the downpour. He waited, watching that pale face for any more movement.

When nothing came, he unzipped the hoodie—slowly—too loud in the silence. Beneath it, some obscure, faded band tee clung to Theo’s frame. Underneath all the layers, Theo was tinier than he expected. Skinny was one thing, but Noah could sink his entire hand under the expanse of that ribcage.

As his hand skated under the shirt, his fingertips brushed against something raised.

A scar.

Jagged and uneven, running from beneath Theo’s collarbone down to the top of his stomach. Open heart surgery, maybe?

What the fuck caused something this big?

Theo twitched again, but Noah didn’t pull back this time. Instead, he leaned closer, lips settling against the side of Theo’s mouth.

“Are you dreaming about me, Theo?” he whispered. “All I’ve done is think about you.”

Pressing their mouths together, he coaxed those lax lips apart with his tongue, barely grazing teeth. Theo tasted like lavender and mint, wrapped up in rain and sweat.

Delicious wasn’t even close. Theo was addictive .

And when his nipple pebbled under Noah’s hand, it was as if Theo had handed him a personalized invitation. Just for him—for them. For right now.

Noah slid his hand down, cupping Theo’s half-hard dick through the heavy jeans, and squeezed. Theo arched into the touch, whimpering into his mouth.

It was damn good, almost better than those needy, desperate moans. So right. Theo wanted him, even while he was asleep. Like he was the only person in the world that mattered.

He pulled back to trail kisses over Theo’s jaw and neck, nipping at the soft, warm flesh. “I’m going to help you with everything. Don’t worry.”

A camera would’ve been amazing. Capturing this on tape, being able to watch it back on repeat? He could catch the little things he knew he’d miss in the moment…

There were cameras left. The ones they’d set up all over East Bridge to record Stop and Seek. Noah couldn’t get them now— didn’t want to walk away from this moment for a second—but he could bring the extras here later.

It was for Theo’s good.

Theo was completely out of it at the bar, and anyone could’ve taken advantage of him. If Noah could keep an eye on him, make sure he got home every night, then it would be alright, wouldn’t it?

Of course it would.

Unbuttoning the jeans, Noah pulled the denim and boxers down enough to let Theo’s cock spring free.

So pretty, deep purple against his palm when he grasped it and gave it a long stroke.

He kissed down that perfect neck and rain-soaked shirt and licked at the little bead of precum gathered at the slit.

It tasted like honey and salt, and Noah’s own dick twitched in response.

“You’re already leaking,” he murmured, raising his eyes to watch Theo’s face. “Jesus, you really are desperate aren’t you, baby?”

Theo’s body betrayed him as he thrust up into Noah’s hand, wanting more.

Reaching down, Noah slid his shorts to his thighs, and then his mouth was on Theo’s cock again. He lapped at the head like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted—and it was.

And when he touched his own dick? Euphoria shot through him so hard he saw stars for a split-second.

Noah could spend all night here, blowing Theo and getting himself off, but he had places to be. Unfortunately.

Once would have to do. For now. Besides, he wanted Theo to be conscious enough to scream his name the next time.

He jacked himself faster, all the while sucking on that gorgeous dick like it was his last meal. The rain hitting the window was the only thing louder than their breathing as he bobbed up and down.

Theo was squirming beneath him, jerking into his touch, and Noah knew neither of them had much left to give. Not with the heat curling through him, balls drawing closer.

He moved back, a ribbon of precum strung between his lips and Theo’s cock. “We’ll go slower next time,” he whispered. “I promise.”

Shifting up to his knees, he grabbed both of their cocks in his hands and— fuck it felt so good .

Not just the heat and friction, but the soft sounds from Theo. The sounds Theo was making because of him .

His eyes squeezed shut, hips moving on their own, pumping in time with the rhythm of his hand. Slick with precum and rainwater, it didn’t take long before he was tipping over the edge.

The orgasm ripped up his spine like lightning, white-hot pleasure burning as he came all over his hands.

Theo was seconds behind, a choked-off groan on his lips as he stiffened. Noah took the final few strokes, watching their mingled cum dripping down his wrist and onto that band tee.

They were one now. One perfect, happy being in this bedroom.

Leaning over, he pressed another kiss to Theo’s mouth, heart pounding in his ears. “One day, you’ll wake up with me inside you, and I can’t wait to see that pretty face when you realize.”

Noah stared at him for a long moment, cataloging every inch—the curve of his cheek, the shiver that moved his shoulders—before he pulled up his shorts and dragged his tongue over his hand.

He’d remember this taste forever.