Page 27 of Cross the Line

“Why are you awake at five a.m.?” Theo groans. “This isn’t even a real time.”

“Why don’t you have me in your contact list?” Alec counters, avoiding the question.

“I do,” Theo answers around a yawn. “Can’t find my glasses.”

“You answered a call blindly? What are you unhinged?”

“I thought it was Jason. He’s the only person who calls me besides my boss.”

Alec makes a thoughtful noise. “Did I wake you up?”

“At five in the morning?” Theo snorts. “Yes, Alec, you woke me up.”

“Oh.” Alec’s exhale is heavy through the phone. “Are you mad?”

The conversation is so bonkers that Theo finds himself answering far too honestly.

“I’d never be mad at you for calling me.” A horrible thought occurs to Theo. “Wait, why are you calling me so early? What’s wrong? Fuck, is it Jason?”

He tries to stand too abruptly, feet tangling in the sheets when Alec replies.

“Nothing is wrong.” At those three words Theo collapses on the edge of the bed with a heavy thud, kicking at the sheets. “Jason is probably sleeping like a baby. I didn’t call him to check, but you know that man loves to sleep.”

Heart beating erratically in his chest, Theo throws his legs over the bed and forces himself to breathe slowly. His brain might know everything is fine, but his body hasn’t caught up.

“Charlie didn’t answer?” he asks, trying to make sense of why Alec is calling.

“I didn’t call him either.”

Oh. That’s unexpected.

“I need help.”

That’s even more unexpected. Theo should probably ask more questions, but the truth is no matter what is going on, if Alec is desperate enough to call Theo for help and not his brothers, then he's going to help him.

“Where are you?” Theo asks as he grabs his pants off the edge of the bed and shimmies into them.

“Funny you should ask that.”

“Are you in trouble, Alec?” Theo pulls his sweater from yesterday over his head, worst case scenarios running through his head as he grabs one of his spare pair of glasses off the top of his dresser. They’re not his favorite frames, but he keeps extras for times like now where he’s lost his glasses, something that happens far more often than it should. “You’re not in jail, are you?”

“Jail. Honestly, Theodore, what would I do to land myself in jail?”

“Streaking.” The answer comes out as half-statement and half-question, which feels appropriate.

“I don’t know if I’m flattered or offended that your first thought for why I’d be arrested is nudity.”

“Sorry,” Theo apologizes.

“Don’t be, that’s probably accurate,” Alec laughs. “But uh, no, I’m not in jail. I’m uh…somewhere closer.”

“Your apartment?”

“Your front porch.”

Theo startles, stubbing his toe on the bed frame on the way out of his door. He curses, righting himself as he stares into his empty, dark living room. He doesn’t bother asking what the hell Alec is doing over the phone, ending the call before half running to the front door. He flips the porch light while unlocking the deadbolt, swinging the door open to find Alec is, in fact, standing on his front porch. There’s mud on his nose, the side of his cheek is caked with blood and his lip is split. His shirt is also absent, wrapped around something in his arm that meows loudly.

“What the fuck?”

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