"I won't die for you"

4. When the guy you're trying to help is self-sacrificing or smth but likes his friends so that's your argument whenever he's in the sacrifical lamb mood

5. Theo getting peer-pressured into helping

6. The elevator

7. Theo being enamoured over Liam's stupid plans

8. Actual murderer making sure you don't go down the murderer path

9. Theo becoming Liam's warning alarm whenever he starts getting pissed off

“Do you ever stop trying to look like you're in a Twilight reboot?” Liam mutters, flipping a page with exaggerated nonchalance.

Theo freezes mid-stride. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Liam quirks a brow, slowly sitting up. “You’ve got the whole tortured anti-hero thing going on—dark clothes, broody silence, barely making eye contact—but I live with you half the time, Raeken. You can’t fool me.”

Theo narrows his eyes. “I’m not trying to fool anyone.”

“Uh-huh.” Liam leans forward, lips twitching into a grin. “So I guess the stuffed bear that somehow ended up on my side of the bed last night wasn’t yours?”

Theo’s jaw tightens.

“Oh, come on,” Liam snickers. “His name is Mr. Snuggles. You named him.”

“It’s sentimental,” Theo snaps, finally kicking his boots off in annoyance. “I had it as a kid. It’s comforting.”

“Comforting?” Liam gasps in mock offense. “The brooding lone wolf finds comfort in a bear named Mr. Snuggles? Tell me more, mysterious one.”

Theo growls under his breath and turns to the window. “You're not funny.”

“You keep saying that, but you keep crawling into my bed at 2 a.m. and curling around me like a very grumpy spoon,” Liam replies smugly, standing up to walk over. “I think you like when I tease you.”

Theo doesn’t reply, but his ears flush slightly. Liam grins.

“You’re adorable when you pretend not to care.”

“I’m not adorable,” Theo hisses, though there’s zero bite behind it. “I’m dangerous.”

“Right.” Liam pokes a finger at Theo’s chest. “You’re a dangerous man. Who talks in his sleep. And dreams about... what was it? Pancakes and baby goats?”

Theo swats his hand away but Liam’s laughter is infectious, and soon Theo’s shoulders shake with quiet chuckles he can’t suppress. He leans into Liam, forehead resting against his for a second longer than necessary.

“You tell anyone about Mr. Snuggles and I will bite you.”

Liam smirks. “You already do.”

A pause. Theo stares at him, eyes dark with meaning.

“I mean in a not-fun way,” he growls lowly.

Liam leans closer. “Then you better keep being good. Or I’ll steal Mr. Snuggles and hold him for ransom.”

Theo exhales a slow breath, then wraps his arms around Liam’s waist, dragging him backward onto the bed. The comic book flies across the room.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mutters into Liam’s hair.

Liam hums. “And you’re lucky I like you even when you’re trying to act like the villain.”

Theo doesn't answer, but when Liam reaches back to pull the covers over them both, he does so carefully—tucking in the slightly frayed paw of Mr. Snuggles between them.

The rain has softened to a whisper outside. The room is quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old house settling and the even softer rustle of two bodies tangled beneath the sheets.

Liam shifts against Theo, one leg hooked lazily over his. The stuffed bear lies squished between them, a comically innocent witness to the tension that lingers in the silence.

“We’re too old for this,” Theo mumbles, voice muffled against Liam’s neck.

“For what?” Liam murmurs, half-asleep but smiling. “Stuffed animals? Cuddling? Or the part where you sneak into my bed like a teenage cliché?”

“The mocking,” Theo huffs.

Liam snorts. “Mocking is how I show love, babe. You know that.”

Theo lifts his head, eyes narrowing with mock irritation, though there’s a flicker of something softer underneath. “You show love by making fun of my childhood comfort object?”

“Mm-hmm. And by cooking you eggs in the morning. And pretending I don’t hear you when you have nightmares. And letting you hog the entire blanket even though you’re the one who runs hot.”

Theo doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he watches Liam for a moment—his eyes drifting over the tousled brown hair, the faint smirk still curling the corner of his mouth, the complete and total ease with which Liam exists beside him. It's maddening and comforting all at once.

“You know what really sucks?” Theo finally says.

Liam turns his head. “Other than your taste in Netflix shows?”

Theo gives him a look. “That I spent years convincing myself I didn’t need anyone. That I was better alone. Then you came along with your sarcasm and your dumb heroic heart and ruined that entire philosophy.”

Liam’s smirk falters, replaced by something softer. He rolls onto his side, hand tracing idle shapes on Theo’s bare chest.

“You weren’t better alone,” he says quietly. “You were just surviving. Now you get to live. With me. And Mr. Snuggles.”

Theo groans. “I hate you.”

“You really don’t.”

Theo presses a kiss to Liam’s forehead—firm, grounding, possessive.

“No. I really don’t.”

They fall into silence again, comfortable this time. Theo’s breathing evens out as his hand settles over Liam’s hip, thumb rubbing circles into the warm skin beneath the hem of his T-shirt. Liam lets his own fingers trail along Theo’s back, not caring about the rain or the thunder or the world outside these four walls.

“Hey,” Liam whispers after a while, grinning sleepily. “Do you think Mr. Snuggles wants to watch us make out?”

Theo shoves the bear to the floor without hesitation. “He’s seen enough.”

Liam bursts out laughing—genuine, uninhibited, the kind of sound Theo swears he’d kill to hear more of. And then Theo kisses him. Hard. Like a man who's finally stopped running from himself.

The stuffed bear lies face-down on the carpet, forgotten for now, as two former enemies turn lovers twist under the sheets, limbs tangled, breath caught between kisses and laughter and something dangerously close to forever.

Theo’s mouth moves over Liam’s with a hungry desperation now. What started as teasing is gone, replaced by something raw and urgent. He shifts, pressing Liam deeper into the mattress, one hand braced beside Liam’s head while the other traces down his side, fingers skating under his shirt to feel the warm, firm muscles underneath.

Liam arches up to meet him, eyes half-lidded, breath hitching as Theo’s lips trail along his jaw, nipping at the skin just below his ear.

“You always do this,” Liam whispers, voice thick and low. “Come in here like you own the place…”

Theo lifts his head just enough to look down at him, eyes dark, pupils blown wide. “I do own you, Dunbar. You just haven’t figured out the paperwork yet.”

Liam grins, cocky and breathless. “Is that so?”

Theo answers by dragging his hand down to Liam’s waistband, the kiss they fall into next slow and consuming. Tongue, teeth, heat. Theo’s fingers fist in the fabric of Liam’s shirt before he yanks it over Liam’s head, tossing it to the floor without breaking the kiss.

Skin on skin. The contact ignites something in both of them.

Liam rolls them with practiced ease, straddling Theo’s hips. His hands press against Theo’s chest, grounding himself, holding him there. He smirks down at him. “Still dangerous, huh?”

Theo grips Liam’s thighs tightly, letting his head fall back against the pillow, eyes flashing gold for a split second. “Only when I’m not being good.”

Liam grinds his hips down slowly, the friction making them both gasp. “Then be bad.”

A low growl rumbles from Theo’s chest as he sits up, his hands trailing under Liam’s chest. Their mouths meet again in a brutal kiss, more teeth than lips now, desperate and hungry. There’s nothing slow or hesitant about it—years of tension, of denial, of playing enemies and pretending they didn’t crave this, all spilling over in this moment.

Theo flips them again, dragging his mouth down Liam’s neck, across his collarbone, nipping and licking every inch of exposed skin. Liam’s nails dig into Theo’s back, pulling him closer, grounding himself in the heat of Theo’s body.

“I hate how good this feels,” Theo mutters, panting.

“You’ll survive,” Liam growls into his chest, before licking a slow line over one of Theo’s nipples, watching the way his body jerks in response.

Clothes are stripped away in fevered movements—familiar hands knowing exactly where to touch, where to bite, where to make the other fall apart. There’s no awkwardness between them anymore, no fumbling. They’ve done this dance enough times now, but it still feels electric every time.

Theo takes his time, worshiping Liam with mouth and hands, until Liam is a writhing mess beneath him, begging, cursing, laughing breathlessly in that way Theo swears only happens when he’s about to fall apart.

When Theo finally slides into him—slow, careful, claiming—Liam gasps, nails digging into Theo’s shoulders, legs wrapping around his waist. “Fuck—Theo—”

“I’ve got you,” Theo pants, forehead pressed to Liam’s. “I always have you.”

The rhythm starts slow, languid, but the desperation builds quickly. Their bodies move together in perfect sync—Theo whispering filthy promises in Liam’s ear while Liam clutches him like he’s the only thing tethering him to the world.

The world narrows down to heat and skin and breath and love unspoken but known. Theo bites at Liam’s throat, not enough to mark but enough to remind him who he belongs to.

And Liam lets him. Wants him to.

Their climax crashes over them like a wave—Theo coming with a low groan buried against Liam’s throat, Liam moments later, shuddering as he spills between them, his whole body shaking.

They stay like that for a long moment, tangled in sweat and breath, hearts pounding in sync. Theo finally rolls to the side, pulling Liam with him, arms wrapped tight around his waist.

“…Still think we’re too old for stuffed animals?” Liam mutters after a beat, his voice lazy and wrecked.

Theo chuckles, pressing a kiss to Liam’s shoulder. “I think I need another one just to recover from you.”

“Then you’re lucky Mr. Snuggles is a heavy sleeper.”

They both burst into soft laughter, limbs still tangled, heat still lingering.

Tomorrow, they’ll deal with the rest of the world. But tonight? They have rain on the roof, each other, and a stuffed bear on the floor who’s probably seen too much.