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Newt could tell something was going on. Thomas had to be scheming for at least a week in advance and Newt started to be worried what was going to happen on his quickly approaching birthday. His boyfriend always did something overly sweet and Newt had been recovering from it for another month after.
This year it seemed similar. They had birthday very close to each other, being both Aries and all, but Newt was always trying to keep it simple and easy. Thomas strived for higher goals, fancy and with high level of mushiness.
It started in the morning. When Newt woke up he had a hard time believing it was the reality and he was not sleeping still, having a bizarre Red Library dream. But no. He was alone in the bed, that was another sign that something was going on, and the whole blanket and pillows were covered with red petals. Like in cheesy movies, an absolute copy of it, and Newt was lying in middle of it (or sitting now), staring at the red flood everywhere, until his eyes slid down to a trail that led from his bed outside the bedroom.
“Oh my god,” he groaned and fell back, the red curtain bouncing around. “I’ll kill him for sure this year.”
***
The kitchen smelled amazing, but Newt was terrified of what was he going to find there, so he approached slowly and carefully. Not to mention the red petal trail led him there anyway, so it meant Thomas’ next step in his plan of “how to make Newt get a heart-attack before he is 30” was fully on board and ready to commence.
It fulfilled his expectations – the kitchen table was full of flowers. It was basically booming with them, all kinds and shapes, and in the middle of it sat a huge heart-shaped cake with I ♥ you on it.
“Bloody hell,” he groaned again and rather proceeded to make himself a cup of tea – if it wasn’t already made in a kettle at the kitchen counter, along with his favourite freshly made breakfast. Next to the tray with all kinds of food lied a note with Thomas’ handwriting. It said: “Eat up! You are going to need all the strength for the next stage!”
“I’m going to strangle him.”
***
He was happy that the office stayed the same with everyone acting as they should. Well, Teresa did greet him with a Happy Birthday song and a hug, but it was innocent enough, even that she laughed like crazy when she smacked him a kiss on his cheek and left a lipstick imprint there. Alby was kind enough to smudge it away and then proceeded to crush him in a bear hug, lifting him from the ground and telling him that he “Age like a fine wine. Even more bitter”.
The whole office apparently bought him a cake, so the atmosphere was fancy and relaxed, but thankfully not overboard, and when everyone had their share, it returned into a pleasant quiet rhythm.
This niceness got disturbed when Minho arrived, all wide smiles and (oh god, no) a huge stuffed bear. He put it on Newt’s table like a trophy, then gave him an obnoxiously loud kiss on lips (he had some nerve, that for sure) and snapped a picture of the whole scene, probably sending it to Brenda for lolz.
“I’ve wanted to take you and Tom out for a birthday party, but I got declined,” the Asian informed him with a sigh. “I hope you are prepared for something ridiculous from him.”
“Can’t really expect anything else, can I?” Newt barked a laugh, watching the huge bear with exasperation. “But man, a bear? Why a bear?”
“Cuz it’s cute?” Minho shrugged and grinned at him happily. “And because it’s gonna be hilarious to see you go home with it.”
“Of course,” Newt sighed. Well, what else did he expect?
***
Next stage, as Thomas called it, included a dark living room (Where was that little shit hiding?), illuminated only by candles. Everywhere. He must have admitted it took his breath away for a while, staring at the warm and soft toning, so he absolutely didn’t notice Thomas creeping up on him, hugging him from behind. He yelped and almost jumped away if the man didn’t hold him firmly enough.
“Hello, love,” Thomas chuckled into his ear and then made an “uhhh” noise when he spotted the huge bear Newt put on the ground next to him.
“Minho,” Newt said only and turned around, catching Thomas’ lips in a short kiss. “You are ridiculous.”
“I thought adorable,” the writer opposed, holding the blond down from pulling at his clothes (really nicely fitting clothes, goddamn, did he thought of everything? All in black and it snug to him perfectly and Newt was definitely all up to getting to the main gift of the day – which paradoxically included Thomas without any clothes at all).“There is dinner ready.”
“I’m not hungry,” Newt opposed, wriggling in his hold impatiently.
“And a bath,” Thomas added with a smile, which made the blond groan.
“Thomas-,”
“Also gifts?”
“Goddamn, really?” he pouted and Thomas laughed at him, hugging him affectionately. “Let me have this, yeah?”
“Ugh, you are unbelievable.”
***
The dinner was amazing and Thomas ridiculous. They sat on the ground on the furry pad, snuggled perfectly in its warmth, and Thomas insisted on trying feeding him and Newt suggested using his fingers only, so he could bite them off as revenge.
“How harsh,” Thomas chuckled, but held the food in his hand anyway, giving it to Newt with an expectant look. At first Newt thought he was kidding, and seriously wanted to bite him, but when he tried it, he decided for another form of rebellion – and licked his fingers lewdly.
It did the trick, Thomas quickly pulled back, staring at him with wide eyes, which soon narrowed into an accusing slits.
“Sorry, that was an accident,” Newt assured him innocently and sat a little closer. “Give it another shot?”
“No biting,” Thomas warned him and Newt nodded with a serious expression of a solemn oath.
“I want this,” he pointed at the fruit bowl and a cream next to it and Thomas took a deep breath. He must have already suspected that Newt wasn’t going to play fair (and he was right). The first piece of strawberry proceeded without an incident, Newt behaved and ate it quietly, only with a smile, and Thomas visibly relaxed. But when the writer wanted to take another piece, Newt caught his hand and dipped his finger into the cream only, and then licked it soundly.
“Mmm, delicious,” he hummed appreciatively and sucked on his finger like a pro, eluding a loud moan in return.
“Newt-,”
“Hmm?” he didn’t even stop with the licking, instead he run his tongue all along the writer’s forefinger and pass his knuckles, then back along his palm until he ended at the pulse point on his wrist.
“The food-,”
“Stop with the teasing already,” the blond released his hand and crawled towards him, pushing him down to the fur. “And give me my birthday present.”
“You’re so impatient,” Thomas told him breathlessly, but didn’t resist a bit, lying down without a fight. His hands immediately ran along Newt’s sides, pushing the shirt up and over his head without delay. “And so hot.”
“I am the hot one?” Newt chuckled, settling on Thomas’ legs and then teasingly dragged himself over the writer’s hips, pushing down. Thomas whimpered and pulled the blond down to him, kissing him wildly. His lips were hot and insistent; he had to hold himself back until now, because there was an enormous intensity behind it, a hunger that made Newt excited even more.
“You’re scorching,” Thomas muttered into his mouth, licking and sucking at his bottom lip. “Fucking irresistible.”
“Oh yeah?” Newt breathed out, his body shivering under the onslaught of the adrenalin rushing through him. “And does the birthday boy get to top tonight?”
“Does the birthday boy want to?” Thomas mouthed his jaw, nibbling a little and Newt moaned, his hips involuntarily bucking down. “Because I’m totally up for it.”
“Hell, yes,” Newt growled and scrambled at Thomas’ shirt, pulling it off as well, and then latching at his neck, marking him. Thomas arched into the touch, his voice deep and resonating and Newt just couldn’t get enough of it. He felt a tug at his pants and complied immediately, taking it down along with Thomas’ jeans. They were both already hard, panting in each other’s mouths and Newt felt the impatience and overwhelming love for the man in his arms so strongly it took all the power of his will to slow down, to get ready and not rush it.
Thomas was amazing, urging him closer and leading him like he wanted it and the blond would probably laugh if he wasn’t so lost in the moment. The brunet was always in charge, leading everything, no matter at which end he actually operated. He held Newt close and his hands roamed over his back, sweet little moans escaping his mouth in doses, chanting more, more, more and Newt’s name over and over again.
The soft tone of candles made it even more intense, Newt just couldn’t take his eyes off his lover under him. The bronze tone of the fire made him almost glow, with the sheen layer of sweat on his skin and hair damp, an absolute look of someone utterly sated and wanton at the same time. He was pulling Newt’s hips closer to his body, his blunt nails scratching over the back and down his sides, making the blond squirm when the touch got too light and teasing at his ticklish spots. Thomas did it intentionally, grinning at him wickedly in between deep breaths and moans, and when his teasing made Newt bark an involuntary laugh, the blond seized the wandering hands and pinned them above the writer’s head.
“You sly little fox,” he told him breathlessly and Thomas hummed in appreciation, catching Newt’s lips in a searing kiss.
“You love me anyway.”
“I love you all the time,” the blond bit his lip and Thomas gasped, his body suddenly arching up and tensing like a violin string, and that was it. That was all it took for Newt to get swallowed by the tide breaking pleasure, his hips stuttering, breathing hitching in his throat.
“Happy birthday, love,” Thomas chuckled tiredly under him, his hands finally free to catch Newt’s face in his hands, caressing his cheekbones and lips adoringly. “My precious soul.”