Page 35 of Stop and Seek (Our Childish Games #1)

The drive was dragging. Noah kept his hand on Theo’s thigh like it was the only thing anchoring either of them to reality. Theo felt too warm, twitchy, curled up like he wanted to disappear into Noah’s side.

My poor baby.

If he hadn’t been busy teaching Keith a lesson, he wouldn’t have missed Theo’s texts.

Maybe Theo wouldn’t have taken whatever drug he got from Alyssa.

Jesus, he looked wrecked in a way that made Noah’s heart twist. Eyes glassy.

Sweat on his neck. Pressing closer, whispering nonsense that made Noah want to kiss him until the world stopped spinning.

At one point back at the club, Theo had looked at him like he’d seen a ghost. Like he didn’t believe Noah was real. And Noah wasn’t sure what fucked with him more: seeing that, watching someone grind on Theo, or hearing Theo tell him nothing was normal.

Normal was fucking overrated. Boring people were normal.

“You okay?” Noah asked as he turned down the music.

Theo blinked out at the highway, then up at Noah. “I missed you. ”

Noah’s brain short-circuited. He grinned like an idiot before he could stop himself. Fuck. His hand flexed on Theo’s thigh like it had a mind of its own.

“Me too.”

Theo's face buried into him. “I’m so hot… but yeah. I’m good.” He wrapped himself around Noah’s arm and Noah’s whole chest went gooey . There wasn’t even a word for what Theo did to him.

“I’ll throw you in the shower the second we get to your place.”

“I don’t want a shower,” Theo grumbled, soft and whiny. “We had a deal.”

What deal?

Noah kept glancing at him between stop signs. The damp red hair, pupils giant under his glasses. Theo didn’t look like someone who just climbed all over him, demanding sex, but… that was probably the deal .

“I don’t know what don’t be nice means to you,” Noah said after a minute. “But I’m not good at the violent sorta shit—not to the people I care about.”

“Just rough me up, buttercup.”

The laugh broke out of Noah, loud as hell. No warning. He laced their fingers together like it would help Theo hold on. Maybe help himself hold on, too.

“You sure?” he asked when he finally managed to calm down. “I told you: I hate the ER.”

“I’m not gonna die, Noah,” Theo muttered. “I’m just high. I—I can taste colors, and smell music and yeah, at first it was scary… but kinda here for it now.”

“How about we make an actual deal? We fuck, and you let me spend the night. Fair? ”

Theo’s head snapped over to him, all pursed lips and gentle swaying.

The silence stretched, punctuated only by the dull sound of Noah’s playlist in the background. Did it smell the same way it sounded? Like retro diners with greasy cheeseburgers and shakes the size of his head? Waiters on skates?

Then Theo pressed his fingertips into his eyes. “Yeah. Fine. That’s fair, I guess.”

At the red light, Noah leaned over and kissed him. Theo tasted like sweat and heat and everything Noah wanted to protect in the world.

Despite what Theo said—he needed to get dunked into cold water. He was hotter than what was safe, temperature probably hovering around that scary hundred-and-four mark. Ice water would’ve been better, but that wasn’t as available. Noah had to settle with the shower.

Yanking the curtain back, he shoved Theo over the lip of the bath.

And Theo flailed— limbs trashing, voice high and pissed—as he hit the spray of water like he’d been shot.

It was fucking beautiful.

Water exploded everywhere. Theo gasped, shivering and red-faced. Hair dripping into his eyes. Glasses crooked .

Theo slapped at his pockets, front first, then the back. “Shit—my phone—”

Noah dangled it between two fingers. “Looking for this?”

There was that glare again. The one Noah adored more than anything. It could’ve killed a lesser man.

“I’m not that mean,” Noah said, smirking. “I wasn’t copping a feel in the hall. Just protecting your screen addiction.”

“You couldn’t ha—have said something?” Theo spat. His teeth chattered. “L-let me fucking strip first?”

“Could’ve. Didn’t.”

Theo was pouting. Dripping wet and vibrating with rage—it made Noah’s skin feel too tight.

So he tossed the phone, stepped over the edge of the tub and kissed him. Tongue first, hand second, pushing under Theo’s shirt and pinching his nipple just to hear what other kind of noises Theo had in store.

Theo’s nails dug into his face. He muttered something about his glasses, and Noah yanked them off, throwing them somewhere that was probably not safe but close enough. Hopefully.

“Do you want me to treat you like a cheap whore?” Noah asked against his ear, lips dragging lower, down the curve of his throat. “You want me to fuck you til you can’t stand?”

Theo nodded like his life depended on it, and Noah’s vision fucking swam .

“Then beg.”

Theo stiffened. His mouth opened. Closed. He made this frustrated sound and his fingers lost their grip, frozen and slick against Noah’s cheeks.

Finally, Theo sighed. His head hit the tiled wall. “I sound so fucking stupid.”

“You sound fucking perfect .”

That was too nice, wasn’t it? That wasn’t what Theo wanted.

This whole damn thing was new to Noah. Humiliate someone in the bathroom once and suddenly it’s on the sex menu for eternity.

No matter how much self doubt he had, Theo wanted this—wanted him— and that was enough.

Noah killed the water with a clumsy twist of the knob and hauled Theo over his shoulder, fireman style.

Theo flailed. “Put me—put me down!”

Noah snorted, slipping in a puddle and catching them both on the wall. “I don’t hear the word stop, do I? Already?”

“ I swear to god —”

“It’s just you and me, baby. God can wait.”

The second Theo’s wet cheek hit the mattress, Noah nearly lost it.

He’d meant to take his time—he really had—but Theo looked so goddamn good bent over. His skin flushed from the water, clothes sticking to him in all the right places… Noah could’ve come just looking at him.

He was so cute when he was furious.

Noah stared for a second too long, hand still pressed between Theo’s shoulder blades, watching his hips squirm.

“You’ve been bitching this whole time ,” he said, rougher than he meant to. “Is this what turns you on?”

Theo wasn’t speaking again. Just breathing, body twitching like it couldn’t decide what the hell it wanted. It made Noah’s stomach twist, part delight and part confusion.

Then it hit him.

Really hit him.

That little tremble in Theo’s legs. The silence. The way he never really fought.

Noah’s grip tightened without meaning to.

He leaned in, breath hot against the back of Theo’s neck.

“I know what kinda fantasy you got, baby.”

Theo stiffened under his hand. And then, like part of his brain woke up, he went still.

Huh.

Alright then.

Noah yanked Theo’s shoes off. Jeans and boxers followed. This poor damn mattress but—hey—at least there were sheets. Theo looked like a drowned rat and Noah still wanted to split him in two and climb inside.

Nudging Theo’s legs wider, Noah leaned back to look at him—really look. Flushed pink ass, glistening from the shower. His thighs twitched, hips working in slow circles against the mattress.

So fucking hot.

Theo tensed, then twisted. Sudden. Frantic. Scary as hell. His shoulder slipped under Noah’s chest as he tried to roll, pushing back with slippery palms, trying to kick free.

Noah grabbed him again, sweaty hands sticking to hot skin. “Can’t a man enjoy the view? Damn. ”

Caught halfway on his side, Theo’s nails clawed at Noah’s arms, dragging burning, red lines from wrist to elbow. Blood beaded up, and Noah wiped it on his jeans.

“I—shit, I’m sorry,” Theo gasped. “I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean to scratch me?” Noah asked, half-laughing. “You really expect me to believe that? Where’s your realism?”

“ Shut up. ”

Noah shoved Theo onto his back, one hand wrapped around his throat the way Noah knew he liked. Just a little pressure. Enough to make Theo’s eyes roll back in his head.

“You’re nothing but fuckdoll, aren’t you? Whining and needy—hell, I could ask you to ride my thigh and you’d come. Maybe even say thank you.”

“Fuck. You,” Theo whispered, but there was no bite in it.

Noah’s cock throbbed behind the zipper, painful now, dizzying.

His fingers fumbled—too fast, too eager—as he yanked open his jeans with one hand and shoved them down just far enough to get free.

He scrambled for the condom in his wallet, nearly dropping it, tearing it open with his teeth.

It was already slick, lube clinging to the outside and coating the inside, and he hissed through his teeth as he rolled it on with one hand.

Then he pressed forward, dragging his cock between Theo’s cheeks, slow enough to tease but firm enough to make sure he felt every inch.

“You gonna cry for it?” Noah asked.

Theo’s body arched, and Noah didn’t give him time to adjust. He didn’t ask. He shoved in hard, fingers around Theo’s throat pressing hard enough to feel the pulse hammering under his thumb .

Theo inhaled—choked on air—and Noah wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him still. The wet jacket bunched under his elbow. Theo twisted his hands in the sheets and kicked once—just once—but didn’t say stop.

He never said stop.

“Shit,” Noah grunted, sinking all the way. “You feel so good.”

Theo made this half sob, half moan.

Not good enough.

“No more hiding, baby. I want to hear every fucking noise. If you’re gonna be a whore, you’re gonna scream like one.”

He pushed deeper, slow, deliberate. Felt the way Theo’s body clenched around him, trying to fight it, trying to stretch. Theo was shaking already, thighs trembling under Noah’s weight.

“You’re so fucking tight.” Noah leaned in, pressed their foreheads together, breathing him in. “You were made for me.”

He snapped his hips once, harder, and Theo let out a broken sound that made Noah dizzy. Pain and pleasure and surrender all mashed together in one beautiful cry.

He pulled out halfway and slammed back in, then again, and again, setting a punishing rhythm that had Theo’s whole body jerking forward with each thrust. His hands slid up—against Noah’s chest, shoulders, face—pressing there like he wanted to shove him away. Drag him closer.

“You are wriggly ,” Noah panted, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “I should tie you up next time.”

Theo’s moan, wrecked and pathetic, was all the confirmation he needed.

His rhythm was gone, control shattered. Even his pants were soaked through, cold now, sticking to his thighs, and he didn’t give a shit. All that mattered was Theo, gasping, trying not to move, trying so hard not to make a sound—and then breaking all at once when Noah fucked him even deeper.

“You want to come?” Noah whispered. “You want me to let you?”

Theo nodded frantically, mouth open, saliva slicking his chin. His cheeks were streaked with tears. His hips pushed back, and Noah lost his damn mind.

“Then ask. Say you want to come for me. Beg me to let you.”

“I—”

“ Say it. ”

Theo hesitated. Just for a second.

Then all of it came tumbling out at once.

“I need to come, Noah,” he mumbled, shaky and desperate. “Please. Please just—fuck, I want it. I need your fucking dick, just don’t stop—”

Oh. Holy shit.

That did it.

Noah slammed back into him, over and over, each thrust shaking the bed, the whole apartment filled with the sound of skin on skin and Theo’s cries. He could feel Theo tensing under him, body tightening like it was ready to snap.

Theo screamed when he came, loud and ragged and completely undone.

His body shuddered, going stiff and then boneless beneath Noah as he spilled over his hand, painting the sheets.

Noah didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He kept fucking him through it, harder, rougher, chasing his own high with a growl in his throat and fire in his veins.

“Mine,” he said again, voice cracking as he came inside him. “You’re mine. Always.”

Theo trembled under him, breath coming in sharp little gasps, and Noah collapsed against him, panting, sweating, his body half-wrapped around Theo’s. His heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

Adjusting was probably a good idea. Maybe let Theo breathe better. He moved his hand off Theo’s throat. Kissed his cheek, then his jaw. Slow at first. Gentle. A little unsure of what or where to go after this. Like he hadn’t just fucked him stupid.

“You alive?” he mumbled.

“Mhm,” Theo hummed. “I’m fucking dandy. You gonna die?”

“Don’t make me laugh. Everything hurts. My socks are wet.”

Theo wiggled. “Good. Suffer.”

“You’re suffering with me.”

Noah buried his face in Theo’s and stayed there. Wet. Spent. Possessive.

He wasn’t moving. Not for a long, long time.