#userscottlydia

Liam doesn’t talk about his birthday much. He doesn’t necessarily dislike it, though. It isn’t like anything traumatic ever happened to him on it, and it doesn’t remind him of anything sad; there’s no poetic reason for it, it just doesn’t usually come up. He usually lets the day come and go without saying much. It isn’t worth making a fuss.

True to his nature, he turns 16 quietly over the summer between his Freshman year and his Sophomore year. He has cake with his dad and Mason on his front porch. He thinks about how lucky he is to be there. He glances at Mason, and thinks about how he’s even luckier to have him there too. Their eyes meet and they smile at one another, teeth smeared with chocolate.

(Liam wonders for a split second, whether or not the chocolate in Mason’s mouth tastes different from his, and he realizes that he wants to find out. He has nothing to do with this information, so he simply lets it be.)

***

“Your birthdays are always nice,” Mason tells him later.

They’ve both had a shower and brushed their teeth and the air of his bedroom is pleasantly thick and warm, fragrant with body wash, minty toothpaste, and cologne. Mason is in a plain white t-shirt and basketball shorts and Liam is in a BHHS Lacrosse shirt and basketball shorts. They look like the epitome of summer vacation.

“Yeah.” Liam turns his head to look at his friend, waiting for him to continue. Mason rarely says a simple sentence without any elaboration. He talks more than anyone Liam has ever known. It’s one of his favorite things about him.

“A little quiet, though. Are you sure you don’t want a party? I could get you a party. Maybe Lydia would let us use her lake house again…” He trails off, looking thoughtful.

Liam nudges his shoulder with his and shakes his head. “Nah, man. I like it how it is. Just us,” he says, before he catches himself. His tongue twists and he spits out, “And my dad.” It’s a bit more awkward than it needs to be, an obvious fumble on his part.

Mason’s eyebrows arch, and Liam can tell right then that he knows. He can read him like a book.

Their eyes linger for a second and Liam wonders, dumbly, if Mason is going to kiss him. He leans over like he might, and their noses are just about to touch, and then he whispers, “I got you a present.”

Liam sighs audibly and Mason laughs. He looks pleased, though, like the almost kiss was just a test. Liam wonders if he passed it, but he thinks that he must have because Mason is  still lingering close, so close that he isn’t entirely sure if he’s being toyed with or not until suddenly, Mason’s mouth is on his.

He tastes like cinnamon toothpaste and everything that Liam never knew he wanted but knows he can never come back from. His hands come up to cup his face and he pulls him closer, kisses him deeper. He kisses him until he can’t breathe anymore, until his lungs are aching and even then, he stays close. He inhales Mason’s every exhale, raising his eyes up to his face.

They look at one another - gaze, really, is a better word, because Liam can see a million things in Mason’s eyes that he knows he can’t find the words for because he feels the same way, until finally, Liam breaks the silence.

“So… Where’s my present?” A playful grin stretches over his face and Mason mirrors it, rolling his eyes. He leans in to drag his kiss swollen lips over Liam’s, making his way over his jaw and up to lightly nip at his earlobe. A flood of heat exploded inside of Liam, his heart slamming away in his chest. He feels a bit overwhelmed, honestly. He’s thinking of saying so, but he doesn’t have to, because Mason speaks instead, his voice breathy and warm against his skin.

“I’m going to let you beat me in Mortal Kombat,” he whispers. Somehow, he really does sound seductive. Liam laughs a lot louder than he should, at least halfway because he’s a perplexing cocktail of surprised, relieved, and disappointed, but also because Mason is probably the funniest person he’s ever met, if he doesn’t count himself.

“Oh my God. That’s the worst present. You’re the worst friend.” He shoves him away from him, but he still stands up to put Mortal Kombat into his XBox. They both know that Mason is too competitive to let Liam win, even if it is his birthday.

“I’m a better boyfriend,” Mason replies. It catches Liam off guard, even though he can still taste him in his mouth and he knows beyond a reasonable doubt that he hadn’t imagined making out with him just a few moments before.

He glances at him from the corner of his eyes, arching his eyebrows. “Oh, really?” He tries to look busy searching for Mortal Kombat. The truth is that it’s right by his hand. Mason slips up behind him and reaches around him to pick it up, sliding an arm around his waist. He pulls Liam back against him and holds the game out to him. Liam takes it, finding himself equal parts uncomfortable (because his heart has literally never hammered so quickly) and relaxed (because it’s Mason, the safest place in the world) which leaves him sort of just standing there, existing in his best friend’s space.

“Mhmmm…” Mason murmurs. He nuzzles his nose against the side of Liam’s neck and that’s all it takes to make him melt into his arms. His head falls back onto his shoulder and he lets out a content sigh that is just loud enough to be embarrassing. He feels Mason grin, and he squeezes him gently. “Do you wanna find out for yourself?”

Liam is quiet for a moment, his grip on the game case in his hand suddenly so tight that his knuckles are turning white. He feels the pull of the wolf inside of him and he is, for a moment, unsure of how he’s going to be able to control it since it’s always been Mason who pulls him back and Mason is the one causing it to try to break free, but a soft kiss to the temple from Mason calms it immediately.

He’s probably never felt more like his entire life is just a jumble of newspaper clippings put into a bag, shaken, and dumped out onto a tabletop for better or for worse, but one thing is for sure.

“Yeah. I wanna see if you’re a better boyfriend than you are a friend. You kind of have to be, right? The bar isn’t very high.” But even as he ribs him, he’s grinning. He glances at him from the corner of his eye and pulls away from him to put their game in.