Page 134 of Stop and Seek
Theo sat down like he was bracing for disaster. One leg tucked up to his chest, mouth twitching. He took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed.
“Mm. Sulfur.”
“But, like—ediblesulfur, right?”
Noah hooked his foot around Theo’s ankle under the table. Didn’t even try to hide it. Theo didn’t pull away.
And that was it. That was all it took.
Noah felt it again—the floaty, stupid, heart-in-a-freakin-balloon feeling that made his chest ache in the best way. His face was sore from grinning like an idiot, his brain somersaulting with all the happy things it could come up with.
Because this wasn’t just breakfast. It was Theo. Sitting across from him in the early morning light, hair still messy, face flushed.
It was coffee and eggs andthem.
This wasn’t just a meal.
It was the start of everything. The thing he didn’t know he was allowed to want—finally real, finally his.
He was so fucking sure of it.
I can’t do this.
The eggs were fine. Warm, with little brown bits mixed in with the yellow and white—which meant Noah had actually tried. He hadn’t just tossed a Pop-Tart on a paper towel and called it breakfast. He’d made a real attempt. Used a pan. Flipped things. Found Theo’s goddamn salt and pepper.
The coffee was exactly how Theo liked it. No instructions, no guesswork. Noah had made it and handed it over like he’d been doing it for years.
Theo should’ve said thank you. He should’ve told him to get the hell out.
He didn’t say anything.
Because if he opened his mouth, he was going to scream.
This was more terrifying than the one time he traded a blow job for heroin in the backseat of some guy’s car at The Rat’s Nest. That he could handle.
I really can’t do this.
His hands were clammy. He’d already wiped them on his sweatpants three times. He kept touching his own face—eyebrow, cheek, jaw—like he was trying toconfirm he hadn’t hallucinated everything. Like maybe he was still alone in bed, curled under too many blankets, watching those white particles float behind his eyes while pretending he didn’t feel anything anymore.
Noah’s bare foot was still brushing against his ankle. Just… there. Unbothered. Intimate in a way that made Theo’s chest cave in on itself.
No one had sat at this table in six years. Alyssa and Rachel ate with him on the couch, on his bed. The table was off-fucking-limits. He couldn’t bear to sit here without thinking about the smell of marshmallow cereal. Without thinking about the messages that told him hisfacewas on that site.
He’d clicked on the video link at half past six in the morning and vomited for an hour.
His apartment should’ve been considered a liminal zone. A place to exist quietly and getjusthigh enough that the walls stopped whispering.
And now Noah was here.
In his space. At his table. Touching his ankle like it wasnormal.
Theo had no idea what to do with that.
He wanted to grab Noah’s face and kiss him until he forgot how afraid he was. He wanted to crawl into his lap and beg him not to leave. He wanted to shove Noah out the door and lock it for the rest of eternity.
He wanted to be good enough.
He wanted to deserve this.
