Page 34 of Stop and Seek (Our Childish Games #1)

His skin didn’t feel like skin anymore. Every nerve was turned up to eleven—his jacket itched, his jeans itched, even the sweat under his arms felt loud .

When that someone he was dancing with put their hands on his hips, it felt like fingers went through him.

Like they’d tugged something out on accident.

He blinked hard. Tried to find Alyssa. Tried to find a bar. A bathroom. Noah.

Nothing.

There were too many hands.

Not real ones. Some reached from the walls, stuttering in and out with the strobes, stretching like shadows.

Some filled the cavity inside his chest and stomach.

Theo couldn’t tell if they belonged to anyone.

Couldn’t tell if he belonged to anyone. The guy grinding against him might’ve had a face.

Maybe. Something like teeth flashed, and Theo’s own laughter caught in his throat like a hiccup.

The music was in his ribcage now, in the bones of his knees. Every beat crawled up the back of his neck and sat buzzing behind his eyes. God, it was too much. Too loud. He was melting. He was definitely melting. Maybe dying. Hard to tell .

Hands on his waist again. The stranger’s fingers. Or not fingers—something wormlike, pulsing. Theo tipped his head back, blinking up at the lights that felt like starbursts painted on the inside of his skull. The air tasted purple.

No, ultraviolet .

How do you taste colors—

Then someone grabbed his arm.

Real, this time. Hot. Grounded. Sharp enough to snap a tendon. Theo turned and the whole club tilted with him.

Noah.

The strobe caught the side of his nose and fuck—his eyes. Theo’s heart punched the inside of his chest, hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

Noah was saying something. Teeth bared, jaw clenched, voice swallowed up by the music. Theo squinted, vision framed in warping halos. There was so much anger in Noah’s face, and all Theo could think was how attractive Noah was. And how unfair it was.

“Holy shit,” Theo breathed. He was grinning, couldn’t stop. His lips felt numb. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

He meant it. Meant it more than he’d ever meant anything. Noah’s presence felt like a reset button slamming down in the middle of a hallucinated apocalypse. Something fucking tangible.

But Noah’s grip was too tight.

“You seem fine dry humping someone out in the open,” Noah said, or maybe shouted, but the the walls chewed up the words and spit them back out behind Theo’s ears .

Theo laughed. He couldn’t help it. It came out wrong—too jagged, too bright. “God, why are you hot when you’re pissed?” He shook his head and everything blurred, his glasses slipping down his nose.

He wanted to kiss him. Or cry. Or crawl into his skin and stay there. That sounded like the best option.

One trip inside Noah’s flesh box, please.

“You invited me here,” Noah said, and there was something hurt in it.

Theo hiccuped. Swallowed down the broken laughter, even though it still buzzed at the edges of his teeth. “I did,” he said slowly, blinking through the colored smear of light. “I did and you came.”

He reached for Noah’s face, didn’t make contact.

“I just—” His voice cracked. The words were slippery, hard to hold. “I wanted something to feel normal . And I don’t think anything feels normal now.”

The lights strobed white, and for a second, Noah’s face was all he could see.

“So your normal is going out, getting high, and fucking strangers?” Noah’s voice turned even sharper. "Obviously. That's how you met me. "

Not anymore. Theo hadn’t done that in a while. He really, really hadn’t.

Except the words didn’t come out like they should have. His mouth wouldn’t work. His body didn’t know what to do. Sweat trickled down his temple, catching rainbow colors in the flashing lights.

And then Noah moved .

Fingers tangled in Theo’s hair—forceful, painful as hell. Theo gasped, spine arching. His whole body turned liquid, pliant. He leaned in, trembling with want.

“You are mine. Mine , Theo.”

The words barely registered at first—a mish-mash of noise.

Noah’s voice didn’t sound like Noah anymore.

It sounded like thunder, ringing through Theo’s skull, low and violent, vibrating his teeth.

He blinked up at him, heart jackhammering in his chest like it was trying to shatter his ribs from the inside out.

He couldn’t tell if he was trembling from the acid or from Noah’s hand still fisted in his hair.

Mine.

The club pulsed behind them. A girl yelling. A guy laughing. Lights behind Noah’s head—white, purple, gold.

“ Say it ,” Noah snapped. It cut through Theo’s fog, sharp and demanding.

Theo’s lips parted. He could feel the heat of Noah’s breath on his mouth, bitter and jealous. Citrus and pepper cologne everywhere and nowhere at once, stuck to Noah like a second skin.

Saying it didn’t mean shit. Theo wanted to feel it. He wanted it to matter. His pulse skittered and caught in his throat. Something inside him cracked open.

“Prove it,” Theo whispered.

It came out quieter than he meant it to, but it was real.

Noah’s eyes went wide, and Theo didn’t give him a chance to respond.

He kissed him.

Sloppy. Too fast. His tongue dragged over Noah’s bottom lip, savoring the way his mouth tasted like soft fear. But Theo wasn’t soft right now. He wasn’t careful.

He bit down.

Hard.

Metal bloomed across his tongue—hot and coppery—and Theo felt Noah’s body jerk beneath his hands. That was real. Way real. For a second, Theo didn’t know whether to cry or laugh or beg him to do it back.

Instead, he spun away, heart still thrashing in his chest. His grin split wide, bloody and breathless, fingers closing around Noah’s wrist.

Theo dragged him through the chaos. Past strangers with too many limbs and drinks that smelled like sugary death. Past flashes of blue and red and green light that left afterimages when he blinked. Everything was melting. Everything was buzzing. But Noah was a fixed point.

The booth wasn’t empty. Half-drained drinks, crumpled receipts. A graveyard of someone else’s night.

Too bad. So sad.

He shoved Noah down into the sticky vinyl and climbed into his lap. Looping his arms around Noah’s neck, he held on. Sweat glued his shirt to his back. The lights were too much. The noise was worse. But when Theo leaned in, nose brushing Noah’s, mouths inches apart, it was almost quiet again.

“Did you screw him to get high?” Noah asked, his voice hoarse. Dangerous.

Theo shook his head too hard and his vision tilted .

“No. I got it from Alyssa,” he sang, voice thin and sing-song and strange in his own ears. Noah’s hand slid up his back, cool against overheated skin.

“One crisis averted,” Noah said, and the vibration of it ran down Theo’s spine, sparking a twitch in his hips he couldn’t control. His nails scraped over Noah’s scalp, through gel and wax, down to the base of his neck.

“You don’t gotta climb me,” Noah added with an easy laugh. “Swear I’m not going anywhere.”

Too late.

Theo’s whole body was quivering, pressure building with nowhere to go. He dragged his nails lower, over Noah’s shoulders, down the sharp planes of his chest as he rolled his hips forward, grinding down just to feel the friction.

“I want you,” Theo whispered, and—thank god—it sounded like his own voice again. “So bad. Don’t be nice.”

There was that look again: raised eyebrows and huge eyes. The one that made Noah look less Noah—less terrifying, less big, muscular jock—and more oversized Golden Retriever.

Noah exhaled quietly, warm against his cheek, and it sent tingles down Theo’s spine so fast he actually shivered. “Stay very, very quiet for me, baby. I’m the only one that gets to hear you.”

Then Noah’s hand slid down— down —pressing over his chest, over his ribs, and—

Theo whimpered.

Humiliating as fuck. Loud as fuck. His body sagged against Noah, breath coming in fast and hot .

This was too public. Too many people . He didn’t mean now—he didn’t mean right this very second . But when Noah squeezed his dick through the denim, slow and firm, Theo’s brain broke into static.

“Don’t move.”

Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. He let his face fall into Noah’s shoulder, hiding in the curve of his neck. Skin and cologne filled his nose, mixed with the faintest trace of iron. His mouth watered.

Noah flicked open his jeans, and Theo bit down on his lip—hard. Involuntary. His boxers were soaked, already sticky with precum, and when Noah’s finger slid down the underside of his cock, everything inside Theo clenched. His lungs. His fucking soul .

He all but collapsed.

“Mine,” Noah whispered, thumb sliding against the slit in slow agony. “All of you. No refunds, no takebacks. No one else gets to lay a finger on you. Ever.”

Theo moaned into his shirt, muffled and desperate. His hips rolled helplessly into Noah’s hand, chasing every stroke. “Yes,” he gasped. “Yes, yes, fuck .”

But Noah was teasing him—enough pressure to keep Theo writhing, enough to make his thighs tremble. Chasing the high without mercy.

Fucking.

Torture.

Theo was so close to crying, to shoving Noah down onto this squeaky-ass vinyl and riding him until the world collapsed around them. Except moving was an issue. Breathing was an issue. He fisted Noah’s shirt harder, burying the sounds of his moans into skin.

Then Noah’s mouth was at his ear again. “Get up.”

Theo tensed, spine threatening to leave his entire body. He blinked up, and for a second, Noah’s face wasn’t there. Red and purple. Blue that tasted like lemon.

Not real.

“N-now?” Theo’s voice cracked. “No. What? No. ” His cock ached . He could feel tears starting in the corners of his eyes from how badly he needed more.

“I wanna hear you scream my name when I’m fucking you, baby,” Noah growled, low and gravely. So fucking hot. “We can’t do that here.”

Groaning, Theo flopped forward like he might just die on the spot. There was a possibility. Every part of him throbbed. The air was sticky in his lungs, inhaling honey and smoke machine fog.

Pouting didn’t work. Neither did shoving Noah’s chest.

“Fine,” Theo huffed after a minute. “ Fine.” His fingers shook as he tried to fasten his jeans, hands clumsy. His bones didn’t fit inside of his skin anymore.

Every cuss word stayed lodged in his throat—all of them—and he had a lot . His thighs twitched. He could still feel Noah’s hand, ghosting over his cock.

And Noah just sat there like he hadn’t ruined Theo’s entire nervous system in absolutely no time. Grinning that stupid, ridiculous fucking thousand-watt smile.

Blond goddamn asshole .

Getting to his feet was a struggle, but he did it. It felt like it took an extra second for gravity to register. His legs were all wrong now that he was upright, like someone replaced his muscle with neon wire. Noah stood too, hands skimming down Theo’s spine.

Theo didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. If he did, he’d claw at Noah’s face and kiss him at the same time. Bite his tongue off just to taste how much he wanted . He shot Noah one glare anyway. One. Just enough to warn: try me again and I’ll set you on fire.

“There you two are!”

Alyssa’s voice cracked straight through the wet, spinning silence between Theo’s ears, and bounced around his skull. He flinched as he turned, reaching instinctively for Noah’s wrist. Skin to skin. It wasn’t enough grounding—but Noah’s pulse under his fingertips helped.

All he could do was focus on Alyssa’s glittery, spiderweb makeup gliding off her face. It was less distracting than Noah shimmering in his peripheral vision.

“I thought I like, lost you for a sec,” Alyssa said. “Worried someone threw you in their trunk and booked it.”

“Noah was—”

Theo blinked, brain tripping. What was the right word? Mad? Turned on? Still nuts, but hot nuts?

Send help.

“Angry,” he said instead, fingers finding their way between Noah’s like his body had a mind of its own. “I don’t take candy from strangers.”

Oh, that made more sense in his head. Maybe .

“That’s what happened?” Noah asked. “Huh. Could’ve fooled me. I thought we were playing the quiet game.”

Theo’s head lolled back. The lights above them turned liquid, twisting his vision into thick bubble-glass. Everything was too much . Too warm. Too loud. Too bright. And Noah— fucking Noah —was the worst part.

He started giggling. Couldn’t help it. That stupid smirk on Noah’s face—it made Theo want to eat him alive. Teeth and instinct.

“ Every damn time ,” Theo gasped. “Every fucking time. God, leave it alone! Shut the fuck up every now and again!”

His laugh didn’t sound human. It sounded like it belonged in a tunnel, bouncing down stairwells and haunting ghosts. Noah was grinning now too, biting down on his bottom lip.

Bastard.

Alyssa looked like she was trying to read subtitles in a language that didn’t exist. Her smile cracked a little. “I’m lost, but you know, I don’t think I’m going to ask,” she said, voice caught somewhere between amusement and resignation. “I think that’s the best course of action for your girl.”

Theo leaned into Noah’s side, chin tipping toward his shoulder, still smiling in a way that made his cheeks hurt.

Alyssa was talking, and Theo only remembered to listen when he realized he was watching her mouth move. “I was going to hang with some friends. Are you two—”

“Yes, busy. Very busy,” Theo cut in, bobbing his head—it might've fallen off otherwise. “Noah’s going to take me home. That cool? And if—if you find him dead tomorrow, I wasn’t here. I might kill him on the way back. Okay? ”

There should have been context for that. It sounded absolutely fucking unhinged out loud. That wasn’t what he meant, not entirely, but the floor was warping when he looked at it. He could feel his heart in his tongue.

“Uh.” Alyssa glanced at Noah, eyebrows raised so high they disappeared under her bangs. Noah shrugged. “Alrighty. Sounds good. Get him home safe , Noah.”