Work Text:
“You can’t be serious,” Gally exclaimed, seizing Newt in a hard stare.
“What?” the blond smiled innocently and dragged to file closer to him. Gally stared at him for a little more, but then apparently lost his patience and stomped out of room like a tidal wave, almost knocking down approaching Alby at the same time.
“Wow, what happened?” the dark skinned man glanced after disappearing Gally and back on Newt who kept on grinning at the file like an idiot.
“Nothing,” the blond shrugged, but his smile stayed. “I just got a new client.”
“That’s what made you so happy and Gally so pissed?”
“He’s not pissed off,” Newt disagreed, looking over Alby’s shoulder towards the way Gally had left. “He just thinks the story sucks so much no one should bother with it.”
“Sounds like him,” Alby chuckled and nodded towards the file. “So what is it? And who?”
“Benjamin,” Newt read the first name thoughtfully. “Ben. I like that.”
“Young?”
“Yeah, seems like around our age,” Newt nodded while looking into the file. “I’m actually kinda worked up!”
“Didn’t you want to take some free time?” Alby opposed lightly. “You had lots of work lately and kept on complaining, thought you wanted to take it easy? Have more time for Thomas and all.”
“I’ll still have time for Thomas,” Newt uttered. “Geez, he is not a baby, he doesn’t need my undying attention 24/7.”
“Didn’t say that,” Alby shrugged. “Just sayin’ a little free time wouldn’t kill either of you.”
“I’d get bored to death,” Newt said resolutely and pulled out the manuscript, successfully ending the conversation.
***
“You are a laid back guy, Newt,” Ben commented after several hours they spent in the restaurant, going through his manuscript together. Ben was a nice guy, fair-haired and surprisingly tall, and his sense of humour made Newt relaxed and actually able to enjoy the evening.
“You just got lucky,” he smirked, making a small note next to a strangely formulated sentence. “I’m usually very unfriendly.”
“Must be my lucky day then,” Ben shrugged with a smile and ordered one more beer for both of them.
Newt was positive that he liked the guy already.
***
“Wow, you are pretty late,” Thomas called from the kitchen and Newt quickly shrugged off his coat and took off his shoes. The flat smelled amazing and if he wasn’t already full, he would be all over the food.
“Lots of work,” Newt shouted back and threw his bag on the couch before actually going to the kitchen to greet his boyfriend. Thomas was standing at the stove, stirring something in the pot, and he smiled at Newt warmly and kissed him hello right the moment the blond got close enough.
“So busy,” he sighed when Newt pulled back, and rubbed his hand against his pants to get rid of any ingredients that could have stayed, so he could wrap it around Newt’s waist and pull him close again for another kiss, this time longer and lingering. “Are you hungry?”
“I ate,” Newt mumbled apologetically. “Which I regret now, cuz it smells amazing.”
“You smell a lot better,” Thomas nosed him with a smile and Newt hugged him tightly, the pot be damned. Those nice and tender moments were his daily recharge, he noticed. Thomas always radiated so much energy he felt like he was leeching it from him with each touch, and Thomas didn’t even mind.
“How was your day?” he asked the writer softly, slowly swinging back and forth with him.
“Very free,” Thomas chuckled. “Wrote what I had to, went for a run with Minho, watched Netflix, cooked.”
“Wow, slow down before you collapse,” Newt exclaimed teasingly and Thomas’ hold got tighter, more real.
“I know, I need to do something or I’ll become a lazy ass,” he snorted. “But missing you is taking lots of time, you know.”
“Aww, my poor baby,” Newt laughed and earned a pinch to his butt.
His life was never better.
***
“Oh c’mon, I have two tickets?” Ben waved with the papers in front of Newt eyes and his face hosted the widest smile ever. “I’ll hold your hand if you get too scared, I promise.”
Newt snorted, pushing his hand away.
“I need to get home early today, sorry,” he shrugged, replying hastily on Thomas’ email (“Minho is being abusive, send help!” – “Sending Teresa, find cover.”).
“Aw, you were my only hope, don’t do this to me,” Ben whined. “My bud just got grounded from his GF, and the rest of the bunch his scared shitless of horrors, pleaaaase!”
“Ugh, fine,” Newt sighed and started a new mail, telling Thomas he will come home late again. He didn’t get to know the answer, but he clearly saw how Teresa made a face at him when he was leaving the office with Ben.
***
“Ugh, the pain.”
Thomas raised his head from the notebook, watching Newt worriedly.
“What’s wrong?”
“My back hurts. My belly hurts. God, even the things I didn’t know I have hurt!” Newt groaned and collapsed on the couch next to the writer. He felt like shit and was pretty sure he was going to feel even worse in the morning. It made him feel jittery.
“Are you sick?” Thomas immediately put down the laptop and turned to his boyfriend, checking for a fever, but Newt only shook his head.
“Was working out,” he muttered tiredly. “God, never again.”
“Working out?” Thomas repeated, dumbfounded.
“Yeah, Ben insisted, I swear I’m never going to listen to that dickhead ever again.”
“Who’s Ben?”
“Ben,” Newt gestured as if he said duh, you know that guy, but Thomas’ face stayed impassive. “The new client?”
“Your new client?” the writer watched him with a slight frown. “I thought you wanted to take a time off after you are done with the other three?”
“I thought I would, yeah,” Newt nodded sleepily. “But that guy’s work is ridiculous and Gally hated it and wanted to kick him out, and I took a pity on him, cuz it’s not bad per se, only… strange. So strange it’s actually good.”
“Is that so.”
“I have manuscript in the bag if you want to look at it,” Newt gestured towards the approximate direction where he threw his bag and Thomas made a disagreeing noise.
“I’m good,” he mumbled. “Have work to do.”
“Alright,” Newt only piped and nodded off.
***
“I was thinking of changing this passage, actually, it sounds weird,” Newt pointed at the short paragraph and heard Ben hum behind him thoughtfully.
“We can talk about it during dinner?”
“Dinner?” Newt stopped and glanced up at the blond man next to him, who only shrugged like it’s no big deal.
“My thought’s process is kinda slow on empty stomach,” he explained easily and Newt wanted to answer with something witty, maybe even point out the clock is only around lunch time, but didn’t really have a chance because a shadow fell on his table and all his words died in his throat immediately.
“So, you’re Ben,” Thomas’ voice cut like a knife and Newt realized the situation just got out of hand. In a bad, bad way. Thomas’ eyes were dark and stormy, his face like a stone mask, totally unreadable, and his posture stiff.
“That would be correct?” the author straightened up and for some unexplainable reason his right hand gripped Newt’s shoulder, as if he needed to steady himself. Thomas’s face got even darker and Newt sensed terrible danger.
“Cool,” a smile that appeared on Thomas face was purely evil and Newt felt panic swelling in his throat. He noticed how his colleagues stopped and stared in the direction of his table, and Newt had to admit he would stare too. It felt like the temperature around them dropped under zero.
“Because I’d hate to not to know the person I’m going to break limbs to, for fucking touching my man like a leech,” Thomas gritted through clenched teeth and Newt gasped, shocked to hear such blatant threat. He didn’t even try to smooth it; he just told him straight he was going to hurt him!
“Thomas!” he immediately barked and stood up, Ben’s hand immediately off his shoulder like if the man got burned. “Are you bloody nuts?!”
“Just a fucking fed up,” the brunet made a step forward to Ben, but Newt quickly jumped in between them, pushing into Thomas’ chest stubbornly.
“Calm down!” he hissed and the expression of pure anger shot through him like a lightning, leaving Newt speechless for a moment.
“I’m perfectly calm,” Thomas growled, his eyes boring daggers into Ben’s frame.
“Talk!” the blond pushed a little more. “We need to talk! Now!”
Thomas didn’t budge for a while, his body as if got ingrained to the floor, and Newt had to repeat that three times for him to actually move and let his boyfriend drag him away to the emptier hallway. He tried very hard to ignore all the stares around, and poisonous whispers accompanying it.
“What’s your bloody problem?!” he started right the moment they finally got away from the looks, and Thomas stopped right at the second Newt started to talk.
“What’s my problem?” he repeated coldly, his tone sending unpleasant shivers through Newt’s body. “This fucking idiot got super handsy with you, and you are asking what’s my fucking problem?!”
“Do you even listen to yourself?!” Newt shot back right away. “Handsy? Are you mad?!”
“I’m fucking furious!” Thomas almost shouted, his voice picking up volume. “I haven’t seen you at home earlier than 10 the whole month! And yesterday I learn you have a new fucking client who you spend all the free time with?!”
“I’m his bloody editor!”
“Of course, because that’s what editors do, working out with their clients! What did you do there, learned how to describe fucking weights?!” Thomas started to gesture wildly and Newt didn’t need any other clue to know he just reached his limits. “I’ve tried for months to get you go out with me and Minho, but no, you hated working out, so you fucking never went, and suddenly it’s all good?”
“You were running!” Newt defended himself desperately. “How do you think I’d do that?!”
“We’re not just running, for fuck’s sake,” Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice dropping a little lower. “So what? Are you still telling me during this whole month everything was strictly professional? Because that’s how it starts, isn’t it.”
“I-,” Newt stopped himself with a terrible revelation. No, he spent so much time with Ben off-work it almost punched him back in the face now. Thomas noticed his mood change immediately and his face fell a little at that.
“That’s just great,” he muttered. “So there is more?”
“A cinema,” Newt whispered.
“And?”
“That’s all.”
“Right,” Thomas avoided his eyes, shoulders dropping. Newt felt a heavy weight settling on his chest, dragging him down. It all came back to him – the whole month spent evening by evening with Ben, absolutely neglecting his own lover, and also not telling him about it – this situation served him right.
“Are you cheating on me with him?”
“What?” Newt whipped his eyes back at Thomas’ unmoving form, absolutely stunned. Surely he must have heard wrong…?
“Are you cheating on me?” Thomas repeated the question in a low voice. “With that guy?”
“No!” Newt shot out immediately, his heart almost stopping at such suggestion. Was he so unreliable? So untrustworthy? Did he lose Thomas’ trust so easily? Without him noticing he was making a cardinal mistake?
Thomas watched him in silence for several heartbeats. His eyes were blank, without any emotion, and Newt realized he is trembling, literally scared of the verdict. He did nothing that would even a little support the accusation, but his throat was still tight and dry, and his mind was panicking constantly.
“Alright,” the writer said after a while, all anger gone from his voice. Only a sad acceptance, something Newt literally hated.
“Thomas-,”
“Newt, you okay here?” Ben’s silhouette appeared suddenly, successfully stopping any possible words, and it was the moment Thomas snapped. His fist shot out so fast and unexpected Newt could only stare in terror how Ben lost his balance and fell down under the strong hit he caught to his jaw.
“The fuck is not your business how he is,” Thomas growled on top of that, all the anger back, and it finally woke Newt up from the mute horror he fell into.
“Oh my god, are you mad?” he hissed and pushed pass the writer towards Ben on the ground, noting the bloody nose he got (not the jaw then, Newt noted). “I’m so sorry, man, you alright?”
Ben only grumbled something, wiping away the blood, and Newt glanced back at Thomas.
“Happy now?” he barked at him with an uneasy feeling in his stomach, twisting and turning, churning his insides.
“Certainly a little better,” the writer uttered and before Newt could shout at him and probably also swear nastily, he turned away from them and left the office without another word.
“Don’t you have any work to do?!” Newt snapped at the audience angrily and it worked. The crowd diminished, leaving him kneeling in front of Ben as if in repentance.
His life was never worse.
***
“Why are you still here?” Teresa stopped in front of his table with a frown and Newt clutched his phone even tighter in his palm.
“Why do you think?” he shot back and she gave him an unforgiving look. Of course she did, her attitude towards Newt’s new client was clear enough from the first time Ben appeared in the office, taking Newt for lunch.
“Shouldn’t you be with your man?” she used Thomas’ term icily. “Begging for forgiveness?”
“I didn’t do anything he accuses me from,” Newt retorted with a forced calm. She only continued to stare him down and he sighed deeply. “He hit him.”
“Yeah, he did,” she crossed her arms on her chest.
“Isn’t that a bit too much?”
“Is it?” she shrugged. “He’s apparently a jealous type.”
“It doesn’t bother you at all?” Newt put the phone on the table, his fingers already hurt from the spasm.
“You’re his boyfriend,” she answered shortly. “Does it bother you?”
Newt took a deep breath. Ben didn’t deserve it. He got dragged to this maelstrom without knowing, getting caught up when shit hit the fan. They were only friendly, right? There was nothing. Newt was actually enjoying talking to the man, without the need to be afraid Thomas was going to know from Teresa or Alby, since Ben was an outsider. A friend. They shared few dinners and lunches. Went to the cinema. Worked out (never again).
And he never said a proper word about it to Thomas. Who found out yesterday. And logically put one and one together. And acted accordingly.
“I guess not.”
***
The flat was dark and quiet. At this time Newt was mad at himself he let his own place go and moved in, suddenly not having a place to run to. Of course he could crash at Alby’s place if anything, playing it nice with Clara, but it suited him ill at this moment. He needed either think about it alone, or deal with it together with Thomas. He chose to man up and go home instead of trying to think of something less terrifying.
The silence of the place spooked him a little. Thomas was either out, which hurt somewhere inside of his consciousness like thousands of needles, or he was already in the bedroom, sleeping. Or trying to, with their current situation, with nerves probably keeping him awake.
At first Newt was afraid a wild Brenda was going to appear, make some voodoo curse on him for making Thomas sad, but she was nowhere to be seen, so he quickly got out of shoes and his coat and approached the bedroom. With several deep breaths he opened slowly, his eyes adjusting to the darkness and his heart skipped a beat and the breath hitched in his throat.
Thomas was there, lying in the bed. His back was turned to the entrance, his form unmoving, covers only to the half of his waist. Newt wasn’t sure if he didn’t imagine the slight stir in Thomas’ body at the noise of Newt approaching, but he stayed put after, so maybe he did.
He breathed in and out deeply and slowly climbed on the bed, sitting behind Thomas stiffly. His hand reached for him, but stopped halfway, pulling back.
“If it makes you feel better,” Thomas suddenly spoke up, startling Newt to full attention and wildly beating heart. “I don’t really know what to say either.”
He stayed turned away, but Newt still avoided his eyes shamefully.
“I don’t want us to fight,” he mumbled after a while, feeling the bed moving how Thomas turned around, looking back at him with an unreadable expression. “Ben is just a client.”
“A friendly client,” Thomas added.
“We get along,” Newt admitted a little grudgingly. He needed to be careful with words, he knew it. “As friends.”
Thomas nodded silently.
“Sorry I hit him,” he said after another while.
“You should be,” Newt agreed, cringing a little at the commanding voice he used automatically. Thomas hummed and then abruptly sat up.
“Nah, I’m not, not really,” he admitted, his voice laced with annoyance. “I’m glad I set the limit for him.”
“Not to touch me.”
“Not to touch you,” the writer confirmed sternly.
“Like a caveman,” Newt couldn’t stop himself and it eased him up when Thomas actually chuckled at that. “I apologized to him on your behalf, you should be grateful.”
“Yeah, right,” Thomas rolled his eyes and settled back down again, turning away with a long sigh. “As if I care what that guy thinks.”
“Well, for one… he is a client. For two, you hit him at my work. For three, he knew I am basically the cause,” Newt shrugged, dragging his pants down during the speech. “So yeah, I apologized on your behalf to save myself from suffering the consequences, thank you very much.”
Before he could even throw the pants away, Thomas seized his wrist in a tight grip and pulled him down, catching him between his body and the bed.
“And whose fault is it?” the writer hissed at him, his eyes narrowed.
“You are jealous,” Newt spitted out, trying to wriggle free, but to no avail.
“Yes!” came a harsh reply and then a kiss that wasn’t gentle at all. All bites and almost no tongue, it felt more like punishment than anything else, but Newt still took it, kissing back until Thomas grounded him with his hips, drawing a loud groan from the blond.
“An angry sex, really?” he breathed out in between kisses and earned a bite to his jaw, a punishing blow.
“Really,” Thomas growled to his ear and bit it too. “I think it meets the requirements, don’t you think?”
Newt thought so too.