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“Tommy, you better have your bloody clothes on, I’m back,” Newt called as he dropped his keys, (though he hadn’t used them; the door was unlocked already) into the bowl on the counter. He paid no attention to Thomas’s reply, despite the fact that he called out first, while he shrugged off his aviator jacket and hung it on the hooks by the door. He turned back into the kitchen, going to pour himself a glass of water, but he realized the apartment was completely dark.
And Thomas had never responded.
“Tommy?” Newt called again, walking slowly through the spacious apartment. Thomas had texted him not two hours ago saying that he was going to be home and most likely screaming at a game of Mario Kart when Newt got back from work. Thomas was definitely not playing Mario Kart — the living room was empty and the TV hadn’t even been turned on. Maybe he took a nap?
Newt checked Gally and Fry’s room, scanning their messy room before padding down the hallway and flicking on the lights as he went.
“Tommy?” He called again. Did he decide to go out? Newt didn’t want to think that Thomas would ditch him on one of the first Friday nights they would have together, just the two of them, but it was a possibility and Newt wouldn’t hold it against him, no matter how much it hurt.
Newt ditched his bag in his own room, casting a sweeping glance throughout just in case, before reaching the end of the hallway and pushing the door to Thomas and Minho’s room. The dying sunlight lit the room in a golden hue, and Newt turned to the left, expecting a sleepy Thomas on the bed near the window.
Except the bed was unmade and void of a living person. The only thing sitting on the bed was Thomas’s backpack. Newt trudged over, running his fingers over the material of Thomas’s backpack. So he at least came home at some point...
Newt pulled out his phone and send a quick message to Thomas.
hey tommy, just got home… you at the house? the door was unlocked and your stuff is here… lmk where you are.
sent 6:43
Newt pocketed his phone, turning to leave the room. He expected Thomas to respond pretty quickly, considering the hyperactive boy was always within arms reach of his cell, even when he was out. However, what Newt wasn’t expecting, was to hear the ding! of Thomas’s text tone sound from the back corner of the room.
The bloody hell?
Newt turned slowly, towards the sound. He knew it definitely wasn’t his own phone — he had specifically told Thomas he hated that particular text tone over a dozen times in the past.
He quickly sent another testing text to locate the phone. Once he heard the annoying ding again, Newt was able to find the phone discarded in the corner on the floor, nearly hidden by the corner of Minho’s dresser.
Newt grabbed the phone, noticing a new crack on the top corner. By now, worry had begun to seep into his toes and fingers, slowly slinking towards his heart through his veins. First, the door was unlocked. Second, the lights were off, and the house was seemingly empty. Third, Thomas’s bookbag and phone were here, but the boy himself wasn’t. Something wasn’t right.
Newt frowned hard at the cracked phone, seeing his very own texts pop up on the screen. An old picture of Thomas, Minho and Newt was set as Thomas’s background, their torsos covered by Newt’s texts.
“Tommy, this isn’t a bloody joke, if you’re here, get your ass out of whatever closet your hiding in,” Newt called again, his brain jumping to the possibility that Thomas was pranking him. He was about to leave the room once more when he noticed a particular dent in the wall that was just above where he found Thomas’s phone. Swallowing hard, Newt lifted the phone and pressed the cracked corner into the dent in the wall. It fit perfectly.
He threw his phone?
Newt’s muscles had begun to lock up and go into defense mode. This didn’t feel like a prank, and besides, he had checked everywhere except the—
The bathroom.
Bursting up with a furiously beating heart, Newt quickly left the room and stode to the bathroom reaching for the handle.
The apartment seemed to drop 20 degrees when he wiggled the handle.
The bathroom was locked.
“Tommy?” Newt called. His voice, despite his wish to remain calm and collected in suspicious circumstances, cracked a bit. He pressed his ear up against the door and shook the handle as hard as he could.
There was a moment of silence in between Newt’s shaking of the door handle, and within that, Newt heard hard breathing, as if someone was hyperventilating, on the other side of the door.
“Tommy! Open up mate, it’s me!” Newt called again, furiously trying to get the door open. This doesn’t feel right...
Once again, he got no response. Newt’s breathing became uneven, his breaths shallow and quick. He pressed his ear to the door once more and yes, it was definitely someone hyperventilating. Newt’s breathing hitched. He frantically scrambled back to the kitchen grabbing one of Minho’s many chopsticks. It was small, sturdy, and Newt immediately shoved it into the little hole in the doorknob, bursting through the door once it clicked open.
The sight made his blood run cold.
Thomas was passed out on the back wall, next to the shower, his hands over his ears and his legs tucked against his chest. He was hyperventilating, choking on his own air.
“Tommy — jesus christ, oh god,” Newt sputtered, dropping to his knees besides Thomas. Newt’s bad leg stung when he fell, but he paid it no attention.
The moment Newt’s hand touched Thomas’s shoulder, Thomas screamed. He screamed loud and painfully and it hurt. Tears immediately formed in the corners of Newt’s eyes. Frantically, Newt flipped through everything he had seen Minho do that first night Newt witnessed one of Thomas’s nightmares. Newt grit his teeth and reached for Thomas again, clenching his jaw against the scream that ripped through Thomas. Newt shuffled forward, struggling to get to Thomas’s hands. He needed to get them off his head.
After a minute of struggle and heart-wrenching screams, Newt managed to pull Thomas into his chest and peel his iron grip off his head. Thomas had tears running down his face, and his face was wrenched together in pain.
“Tommy, it’s just a dream! He’s not really here! It’s not real!” Newt cried, desperately trying to get the boy to calm down. Thomas, almost in response to Newt’s voice, thrashed again. His arm lashed out, one elbow painfully slamming into the top of Newt’s bad leg. Newt let out a sharp hiss, but didn’t let his hold on Thomas go. A few painful minutes passed where Newt struggled to keep Thomas close, but then it began to calm down. Thomas’s screams slowly subsided into whimpers, and his body turned into Newt’s. Newt was able to finally pry Thomas’s hands away from his head, where bruises were already forming. Newt clutched Thomas against him, rubbing his back and whispering into his hair, just like had seen Minho do.
“It’s not really Tommy, you’re okay. You’re safe...Just breathe, just breathe…” Newt’s words trailed in and out, muffled by Thomas’s chocolate locks. Thomas finally seemed to stir, his breathing steadying a bit and his shoulders relaxing.
“Newt?” came a raspy voice. Newt looked down at the boy in his arms, blinking tears out of his eyes.
“Hey, you’re okay,” he breathed, watching Thomas’s face. Thomas’s big Bambi eyes were filled to the brim with tears.
“Godammit, I’m so sorry,” Thomas whimpered, tucking his face behind his hands. Newt shook his head, as if Thomas could see him at the moment.
“No, Tommy, please, it’s not your fault. You don’t need to apologize. I was just worried about you. You scared the bloody shit out of me,” Newt breathed. Thomas pulled his hands away from his face and sat up. Newt shuffled back, ignoring the harsh jolt of pain from his leg. The two boys sat back on the marble floor, breathing heavily.
“Water?” Newt asked after a moment, glancing back at the shaken boy. Thomas nodded, hauling himself to his feet. Newt went to follow, but involuntarily cried out when he tried to put weight on his bad leg. He cursed colorfully.
“Jesus, hold on—” Thomas cried, jumping forward to catch Newt as he stumbled. Newt fought the blush creeping up his neck as Thomas wrapped his arm around his waist and hauled Newt back to his feet.
“Thanks Tommy, stupid bugger,” Newt hissed as he tested his weight again. Thomas was looking at him with wide eyes.
“What happened?” Thomas asked quietly, still keeping a strong hold on Newt lest he fall again. Newt did not want to burden him with the guilt but also realized he had never really told the boy the truth about his limp. Gally knew a fraction of the truth, but as far as the other boys’ knowledge went, Newt had broken his leg as a child from falling off a swing. It was close to the truth, but not quite close enough. Maybe now he could stomach telling someone, most likely Thomas, the dark secrets of his past. But not right now, not when Thomas was so emotionally compromised.
“I hurt it the other day, after school. Was looking at my phone while walking down stairs, you know, like a bloody shank,” Newt squeezed the lie through his teeth. “It’s no big deal,” he assured Thomas. Thomas gave him a look. Newt responded by gritting his teeth and forcing his leg to work. He tested out his weight again, happy to find it much sturdier than the first time. He took a few small steps with Thomas’s hands still on his waist, but once Thomas seemed satisfied with how Newt was holding up, his hands disappeared and left cold spots on either side of Newt.
The two boys walked slowly to the kitchen, Newt’s limp more noticeable than ever. Thomas pulled two glasses from the cupboard, handing them to Newt to fill up from the tap. They sat side by side at the counter, drinking in silence.
“I saw my dad today,” Thomas muttered into the silence of the apartment. Newt nearly spat water over the other boy. He what?
“You—he...What?” Newt sputtered, fear clutching his heart tightly. Thomas was spaced off, his eyes glazed over and still. He seemed to be in a trance.
“My dad. He called me a few weeks ago and threatened to find me if I didn’t answer his calls and emails. That’s what triggered the first nightmare, the one that woke you up the first time. I couldn’t say it outloud then, but today he was there — god, Newt, I couldn’t do anything. He was there and he was threatening to hurt me and everyone I loved if I didn’t go back to work with him,” Thomas breathed. Newt could hardly register his words. His father. His abusive, dick bag of a father. Threatened him. Newts gaze turned crimson.
But Thomas wasn’t done talking.
“He knew about you, Newt. Minho too. And Gally, and Fry, and Brenda, and Teresa. He said he knew who you were and where we lived. He said he would hurt you if I didn’t agree to go back with him. Newt—” Thomas’s voice failed him, succumbing to the tears.
“Tommy…” Newt breathed, scooting closer to the boy. He could even imagine what Thomas was going through. He had been physically and emotionally abused by that man for years, and now, after everything had been so good for so long, he was thrown right back into the horror. Newt’s heart ached.
“Newt, he gave me three days — three days before he would do something… He left after that, and I hardly made it home before I had a panic attack… I thought he was going to follow me, to… to ki—kill me,” Thomas’s voice wavered. He could hardly get the words out.
Newt’s body was rigid with fear but he just wrapped his arms around Thomas. Thomas buried his face into the blond’s shoulder, his sobs racking his entire body. Newt squeezed tears out of his eyes.
“If he lays one bloody finger on you I’ll kill him, I promise you that Tommy,” Newt whispered, pulling back far enough to look Thomas in the eye. Thomas swallowed thickly and nodded. Newt let Thomas press his face back into the blond’s neck for a moment longer. They stayed like that for a while.
“Whatever it is, we will deal with it. We always do. He said he’d give you three days right? Then, when Minho gets back, we’ll go to the police. File another report — hell, I don't care what they do as long as he can’t hurt you anymore. But he can’t force you to work with him again. You’re not a minor anymore, you’re not his property. You’re not going back there, I mark my words Tommy. I would rather die than let you go back to him,” Newt said quietly. Thomas’s mouth twitched at the mention of police, as if he had had something else to say but decided to swallow it back. Newt looked Thomas right in the eye again and squeezed his hands. The brunet blinked heavy tears out of his eyes, but nodded again.
They decided to push the painful thoughts away and spend the night together, playing Mario kart on the couch and eating pizza. Thomas was still shaky and on edge, but he was pushing through. Newt’s mind was racing the entire night, trying to figure out how to handle all this, but for Thomas’s sake, he pushed the thoughts away. He focused on beating his friend’s ass in Mario Kart and racing for the last piece of pizza. The night passed much smoother than it had earlier, and by 11 o’clock they were sore with laughter and full of pizza and soda.
When they turned off the TV, the unavoidable question popped into Newt’s mind. Can Tommy go the night without a nightmare? Newt was doubtful.
Thomas seemed to be avoiding the topic of sleep, and before Newt had the chance to even form the question, he was running for his phone. He came back slightly dazed, his phone in his hand as he studied the crack. Newt leaned back on the counter.
“I found it like that, in your room. There’s also a nice dent in the wall next to Minho’s desk that he’s gonna be real happy about, but don’t sweat it,” Newt said calmly, trying not to step back into the territory they had left hours ago. Thomas mumbled something incomprehensible, but dropped the conversation.
Newt watched in confusion as Thomas flipped through something on his phone. Finally, music began to blare through the bluetooth speaker Gally had gotten as a Christmas present last year. Newt couldn’t help but let a exasperated smile spread over his face.
“Seriously Tommy, it’s nearly midnight and you want to have a dance party?” Newt laughed. Thomas was already dancing along to whatever song he had chosen, nodding along to the beat in response to Newt’s question. Newt wasn’t a dancer, especially not with his rusty stick of a leg, but Thomas had this effect on him. Hazy memories of skin against skin and half-lidded doe eyes inches away from his face flashed through his mind as Thomas reached towards him, to pull him into the center of the kitchen. Had it been anyone else, Newt would’ve politely declined and remained on the sidelines, but Thomas’s big brown eyes and flustered smile tipped him over the edge.
Newt let Thomas guide him in the dancing, and they turned from two 21 year olds to two 8 year olds, dancing horribly to each song that passed. Newt lost himself in the music, trying to follow Thomas, who was a much better dancer. Newt kept it easy on his leg, but let Thomas spin him around the room. They laughed until their sides hurt and danced the night away. Finally, a song came on that Newt felt like he actually recognized. It was a completely different pace than all the others they had listened to before. It wasn’t until the lyrics kicked in that he placed it.
“Is this Ed Sheeran?” Newt said with a laugh, not thinking much of the song. Thomas smiled as they twirled around each other and came to a slow stop.
“Perfect, from the Deluxe Divide album,” Thomas said with an air of pride. Newt knew Thomas was a music geek, but sometimes his extent knowledge of music surprised Newt. This didn’t seem like Thomas’s type of song, but in the moment, the song seemed, well, perfect.
The boys changed their sporadic dancing style into more of a swaying. Neither of them wanted to say anything, but both boys were hyper aware of the lyrics. It was a love song. Once again, the feeling of a warm body against his and hands in his hair flashed behind Newt’s eyes, and he wondered if Thomas remembered that night too.
Thomas seemed to be drinking in the music, his Bambi eyes lost somewhere in Newt’s as he reached towards the blond. Newt did nothing to stop him as Tommy took his hands and pulled Newt closer. They swayed together, rocking to the slow and steady beat. Newt could feel the hot rush climbing up his neck once more, but this time, he didn’t fight it. Maybe Tommy actually did feel the same. Maybe, this wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe...
Thomas was singing along to the words, completely transfixed on the song. Somewhere in their swaying they backed up into the counter. Thomas’s mid-back hit the edge of the counter hard, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, the younger boy leaned against the marble and pulled Newt even closer. Thomas suddenly looked a bit unsure, worry tracing over his face.
“Is this okay?” Thomas whispered, so quietly that Newt almost didn’t hear it. Newt nodded slowly, trying not to let the moment end. They were so close now, their breath mingling. Thomas’s fingers laced themselves through Newts, lifting their arms up to rest between their chests. Newt swallowed once, watching the brunet. The song seemed to pulse again, filling their ears and calming their racing hearts.
Newt wasn’t sure if it was the music, the traumatic experiences of earlier tonight, or perhaps just their mutual feelings that spurred the moment, but the next thing he knew was that Tommy was kissing him and he was kissing back, reaching up to wind his arms around Thomas’s neck and curl his fingers into the younger boy’s hair. Warmth spread through his body, along with the fireworks everyone talked about in the movies. Newt couldn’t quiet process what was happening, but oh god — he was kissing Tommy and Tommy was kissing him back and he never wanted it to end. The music seemed to swell around them as Thomas pulled Newt even closer by the waist, swaying this way and that just the slightest.
When the need for air overcame the desire for more, both boys pulled away with a deep breath and leaned their foreheads together. They stayed wrapped up in one another, Newt’s fingers deep in Thomas’s curls and Thomas’s hands woven around Newt’s thin waist. Newt wasted no time in diving right back in for more once he had enough air in his lungs, recapturing Thomas’s lips and breathing the boy in. Thomas responded immediately, eagerly pulling Newt against him again and deepening the kiss. Newt’s brain short-circuited when Thomas’s lips parted the slightest and Newt reciprocated the action. He could feel the heat off Thomas’s cheeks, and Newt was sure the younger boy could feel the blush on his own face.
They remained like that for quite a while, exploring each others’ mouths and bodies while leaning against the counter. Finally, when the clock by the microwave struck 12 and chimed, both boys jumped and snapped out of their haze. Thomas’s phone had long since shuffled from the Ed Sheeran song, but Newt found himself desiring to play that song over and over and over again.
Both boys decided to head to bed, and although Thomas argued for a moment about the sleeping arrangements, Newt was not letting him sleep alone. So, with all of the lights turned off and both boys in Thomas’s room, Newt pressed a kiss against Thomas’s lips before slipping under the covers of Minho’s bed. He knew the other boy wouldn’t mind.
Thomas promised he would be fine on the other side of the room, and he nearly was. Newt was sleeping soundly for hours before a noise shook him from sleep. It was almost 5:30 in the morning.
Newt was out of his bed in seconds when he heard a soft whimper coming from the bed across the room. He flew to Thomas, rolling the boy over and pulling him into his chest before the screaming started. Thomas reacted his touch again, but instead of lashing out, he seemed to melt under Newt’s touch. Thomas’s arms snaked around Newt’s waist and his breathing stabilized. Newt felt his heart swell. Thomas hadn’t woken up, but there was no way Newt was leaving his side now, not with Thomas’s grip so strong around his center.
Newt wiggled a bit to get comfortable, but eventually settled beside his friend— did that even cover what they were now? Newt didn’t want to think about it at the moment. Instead, he let Thomas curl into his neck, wrapped his arms around the younger boy, pressed a quick kiss to his forehead, and drifted back to sleep.
Thomas woke up about three hours later, the most refreshed and relaxed he had been in weeks. Blinking against the sun, he quickly realized that he was not the only person crammed into his already-small twin bed. No, a long, lanky, blond-haired figure was next to him, his eyes closed and his arms secured tightly around Thomas’s neck. The memories from the night before rushed back into Thomas, all the bad from the day and the amazing from the night before the clock struck 12. He had kissed Newt. And, more importantly, Newt had kissed him back. Thomas felt like he was flying.
He turned his head to study the boy sound asleep next to him. He definitely didn’t remember falling asleep with the boy next to him, but he wasn’t complaining. Thomas wondered if maybe he had another nightmare last night. Luckily, it seemed like his mind finally wanted to spare him from the horrific memories and Thomas had no recollection of his dreams.
He grazed his eyes over the beautiful boy in front of him, studying the way the sunlight made Newt’s fluffy blond hair glow and his skin turn to gold. I sound like a love-struck teenage girl, Thomas thought to himself quietly, a smile fluttering across his face.