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“Oh my god.”
Newt hissed when he felt a firm grip on his arm, stopping him abruptly. Thomas was holding on him as if he was the only thing that kept him in the reality and Newt couldn’t find the reason.
“What’s wrong?” he attempted to ease the grip, but Thomas didn’t budge and kept on staring into the shop window they were just passing by. Newt frowned a little and glanced at the name of the shop in confusion.
A book shop?
And then it hit him. In the book window, right in the middle, sat Thomas’ book. The bookstore labelled it “a book of the month”, “a bestseller” and “a hotshot” and Newt felt a sudden swell of pride in his chest while looking at it. Thomas, on the other hand, was pale like a white board, clutching Newt’s arm tightly, staring at the display.
“It’s your book, yay!” Newt tried to brighten to atmosphere a little. “Cool, eh?”
“I, uh…” Thomas blinked few times and gulped. “Yeah, cool? I guess?”
“For real,” Newt nudged him with a smile, leaning for a kiss to his cheek, just to earn a full-on lip kiss when Thomas turned his head towards him at the same time. He chuckled into Thomas’ mouth, pecking him three fast times in a row. “I’m proud of you, Tommy.”
It seemed the words did the trick because the writer finally relaxed, his hold eased and the hand slid down to grasp Newt’s hand in his.
“Thank you,” he whispered to his ear, kissing his forehead. “It’s really here. Really published. I can’t believe it.”
“You better do,” Newt ruffled his hair affectionately. The book was just amazing, critics chanted odes for it and Newt couldn’t love the man enough. Not just for his foreword at the first page but the dedication to Newt as well, naming him without shame and also labelling him “the light of my life”. It was terribly cheesy and Newt would tell him no if he asked about writing it there, but when the book came under his hands and he read it, it made him feel loved so much he couldn’t breathe for a moment (listening to the running commentary at the office made him re-think that for a second, but in overall he seriously adored it). “We hadn’t even properly celebrated it. How about we go to a nice dinner? Sounds good?”
“How about we order Chinese and cuddle on a couch?” Thomas opposed and Newt barked out a laugh.
“That’s it? What we do every day? That’s a celebration for you?”
“Well, I was also thinking of doing it on the kitchen table?” Thomas suggested with an innocent look and Newt rolled his eyes so hard it almost stayed on the other side of his eyelids.
“A kitchen table.”
Thomas huffed a laugh, pulling the blond closer to him, his hand hovering dangerously close to Newt’s butt.
“At least for the first round, indulge me?”
Newt refused to admit Thomas’ whisper did it for him, and would definitely protest against any claim that being manhandled later on in the kitchen (living room, bedroom and also bathroom) made him excited to the border of insanity.
After all, who said he can’t keep any secrets?