Page 159 of Stop and Seek
“You look even better,” Noah countered. “You gonna wash me?”
“I’m saving your all-important sheets.”
Theo reached behind the curtain and the water roared to life, splattering against the tile.
The last time they were in this bathroom, it was sexy. Now, Theo stripped him like he was trying to find all the broken parts. His fingers dragged across bruises Noah didn’t know he had. Cuts that stung like hell now that someone was touching them.
“It’s not that bad,” Noah said, as Theo shoved him—naked and half-flailing—into the warm spray.
“It looksreally fucking bad,Noah.”
He blinked water out of his eyes and smiled, teeth and everything. “But I made it home.”
Theo didn’t get in right away. He pulled the curtain closed, and Noah watched his shadow cross and uncross his arms. Finally, the clothes came off—sweatshirt first, then pants—tossed in a pile on the sink.
“If you sayI missed you,” Theo grumbled, yanking the curtain open again. “I’ll stay out.”
And that wasexactlythe thing that was going to come out of Noah’s mouth. He pressed his lips together, leaning against the wall like it could hold him up.
If Theo wanted to talk about what lookedworse in the light? It wasn’t him.
Noah swore he knew every curve and bump on Theo’s body. But that was Theo leaving the lights off when they screwed. He watched him grab the body wash—coconut and tropical and very, very Theo—and his eyes fell down Theo’s body.
The raised scar on Theo’s chest he’d felt. But now it was puckered and white in the bright bathroom, as if someone started an autopsy and chickened out. His arms were a fucking nightmare. One long cut from the inside of his elbow to his wrist on the right, multiple deep gashes criss-crossed on the other.
Didn’t matter that they were old. Didn’t matter that Noah could guess why they happened. Looking at themhurt.
“I hate that all those fuckers got to you before me,” Noah mumbled, cracked and too small for the rage in his chest.
The poof slowed near Noah’s collarbone, and Theo’s eyes met his. Water hanging off his lashes, trailing down his cheeks and chin.
Theo didn’t say anything—jaw locked, expression so damn hollow it hurt—like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it didn’t, his shoulders relaxed.
“Everyone has shit they hide from the world.”
“Yeah, but not—”
“Noah.” Theo stopped him cold. “Don’t.”
Noah didn’t. But he wanted to.
He wanted to scream for every time someone had hurt Theo and walked away. For every ounce of pain some asshole left behind on the boy he loved more than air. For the way Theo flinched when he got too close, like he couldn’t believe someone might actually stay.
Instead, he wrapped Theo up. Big arms, clumsy grip. Tighter and tighter until he could feel all of Theo’s delicate, bird-bone edges against him. Every scar, every breath. He wanted to hold him until nothing else existed.
“Don’t hide anythin’ else from me, baby,” he whispered. “I’m not the world. I’d do anythin’—anything—in the fuckin’ universe for you.”
Was that a poem? Maybe. He hoped so. Or at least... he hoped it landed. He didn’t have fancy words, but he meant every one.
“You talk a lot when you’re drunk,” Theo murmured, lips brushing Noah’s neck, then lower. Still not touching him where he needed.
Noah slid his fingers through Theo’s hair—wet and messy. So damn soft against his skin. His hand curled in it.
"You still like me though, yeah?" he asked. His voice barely made it out. "You still want me?"
Theodidn’t answer. Just kissed up his jaw, his chin, then that spot under his ear that made Noah’s knees damn near buckle. His pulse wasslamming.
Noah was already half-hard. The smell of the body wash was overwhelming, diving inside his brain.
