Chapter Text
Newt was blessed with sudden clarity, even though the speakers thrummed so loud he could barely hear a word of what Minho said, even though the lights were jumping all over the place like little devils, and against all odds of him being slightly drunk and probably a little dazed as well. No, it suddenly clicked all together, and it surged up in him like an atomic bomb, expanding in his chest, flooding his limbs and mainly got stuck in his head, cutting into his brain.
“Newt, you hear me?!” Minho’s voice again and he agreed immediately, his eyes fixed in front of him, at two figures at the bar. “You have to drag him away, or stall him, whatever, you understand?! You have to, until I get there! You got it?!”
“I got it,” he responded icily, noting how Teresa next to him eyed him questioningly with a glass of something pink in her hand. He didn’t wait for anything, just shot forward as if some invisible force pushed him, or maybe pulled him, slinking along the dancing bodies or stalling deadweights.
This whole mess started when they agreed to Teresa’s offer and went with her and Alby to the club, to celebrate the engagement (a little late, he admitted, but Teresa insisted and Thomas seemed to be happy to go, so he relented and went as well). The whole evening went great until she appeared. At first Newt hadn’t paid her much attention – a random gal talking to Thomas at the bar. He learned to trust so well he didn’t even think of anything inappropriate that could happen, even that Alby pointed the girl out with a teasing voice, saying she is really pretty and apparently very interested.
So what, there were many pretty girls interested in his man. But he was his, not theirs; there was no worry that bothered him.
But the talk got long, and for the second glance Newt realized something was wrong. Thomas was very, very stiff, even that he stood with his back to their table so he couldn’t see his expression. For another moment of actually realizing this girl wasn’t only talking, dawned on him a second later when he noticed her hand sneaking its way up Thomas’ neck and then the nape, dragging her long black nails through his hair.
And he let her?
No matter how pretty she was (a blond, petite beauty, her long black eyelashes perfectly wreathed her deep blue eyes, a seductively shaped red lips were curled in a suggestive smirk. Wavy long hair cascaded over her shoulders and her back like a majestic trophy, decorated with flashy adornments, and actually drew all the attention to her deep-cut décolleté around which it fell flawlessly. She had a lusciously shaped figure, no wonder men were drooling after her in the close vicinity like dogs with Pavlov’s reflex), Thomas shouldn’t be so passive, right? Or submissive, that seemed like the right word.
He heard a clicking sound next to him when Teresa suddenly snapped a picture of the couple, her brows furrowed, and fiddled with her phone for a while. 1 minute later Newt’s phone rang with Minho’s name on it, and Newt could tell the shit was going to hit the fan.
Before he could even say hello, Minho barked out like a mad dog:
“Get her the fuck away from Tom, now!”
“What?” Newt blinked few times, his anxiety rising to dangerous levels. Minho sounded breathless as if he was running and then a loud bang sounded through the speaker.
“It’s his fucking ex, Newt’, for fuck’s sake, please, get him away,” Minho sounded painfully desperate and Newt felt his heart stop.
His ex?
The ex?
The girl who almost made him to kill himself? Here? With him? Now? Touching him?
A strange serenity came over him, his free hand balled into a fist so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“I’m going for Brenda, just hold on,” he heard Minho saying and an engine roared to life on his side.
And so it came down to this. To Newt fighting his way through the crowd with an immense anger gripping his insides, an urge to strangle the woman like a chicken for doing what she did, and having the nerve to actually attempt to do it now again, touching Thomas so intimately. He hadn’t heard what she was saying, purring into the writer’s ear with a conscious smile, but he definitely saw how Thomas held his shoulders down almost painfully, his head lowered towards her, and it burned inside of Newt so intensely he wanted to kick him as well, to wake him up.
His hand reached immediately when he was at the right range, touching Thomas back reassuringly, and the tenseness seeped into him as well.
“Is something the matter?” he stopped right next to the writer, finally making the girl look at him as well, seizing him carefully, until her lips widened in another playful smile.
Thomas noticed him as if in daze and it snapped him out of it like a bucket of cold water thrown at him, his eyes focusing again and the face cringing in the strangest expression ever.
“Everything is perfectly fine, sweetie,” she purred, but her bloody hand stayed at Thomas shoulder, her fingers dancing over the fabric of the shirt possessively. “You can hop back, adults are talking.”
“Oh?” he looked her dead in the eye, such simple statement made him almost see red. “Don’t get what you are still doing here then.”
She did a double take and her eyes bored into him again, now more intense, even that her face stayed all smiley. Newt felt how Thomas’ body swayed a little, fighting back the urge to run or maybe curl to the ball.
“Do I know you?” she asked sweetly, but the undertone was wrong, threatening even.
“Thank god, no,” he waved his hand, not able to resist the temptation to sound as grossed out as possible. It made her eyes narrow.
“Newt,” Thomas croaked, a little desperately, but the blond ignored him for now.
“And I seriously don’t have even a remote need to get to know you, but I’d appreciate if you keep your hands to yourself, and off Thomas, how about that?”
“Ohh, how jealous,” she sneered, but her hand stayed, even though the movement stilled. “But I don’t see you having him signed now, do you?”
Something snapped in Newt like a broken match, igniting his rage with dangerous intensity. She focused back at Thomas, who was all pale in the face, and gave him the most lascivious smile Newt had ever seen in his life.
“Right, darling? You don’t belong to anyone.”
“In the matter of fact,” Newt took a deep breath, taking her attention back again. “He does.”
He was glad he stood at the left side of the writer, because he could easily take his hand that way, pulling it up, intertwining their fingers automatically (Thomas grip was tight, almost painfully, and refused to let go).She rolled her eyes at first, almost mockingly, until she noticed the both rings and her body went rigid. She took two steps back, taking them both in with an unbelieving stare, and then started to laugh like a possessed.
“How precious!” she squealed, her voice annoyingly high and cutting. “How endearing! So you found yourself a victim who keeps up with your whims now, Thomas? That’s just priceless, I’m amazed!”
She giggled, throwing the free strands of her hair back, fully revealing how naughty her dress was, more revealing than hiding. It was like an open invitation to stare and enjoy it.
“You must be truly desperate, boy,” she jeered at Newt, her full lips in an ugly smirk. “Binding your pitiful life with such a wreck. He is good in bed, but good grief, don’t throw your whole life away and make even yourself miserable along with him.”
In an utter shock Newt couldn’t even sort his thoughts for a proper response, but she wasn’t done yet, grinning at them like an embodiment of evil.
“Do tell, cutie-pie,” she started at the editor with fake sweetness. “Does he check up on you every hour? He does, doesn’t he? And did he force himself on you a bit too early for comfort? I’m pretty sure you did, didn’t you, Thomas.”
The grip on Newt’s hand got almost unbearable in its strength and Newt whimpered, looking at Thomas pleadingly, but the writer was staring at the girl as if she was the only thing in the room, and a scary one on top of that.
“All about sex, isn’t it. Jealous little baby, I’m surprised he even let you come here and not hit anyone who would look at you,” she continued. “Or god forsake touch you. Possessive to the max.”
Newt wanted to tell her to shut up, he really did, but before he could even open his mouth and let the words out, a firm grip suddenly seized his shoulder and Minho appeared right next to him, a little out of breath as if he ran all the way there.
“Bet you think you are a beacon of purity, huh,” Minho stared hard at the girl, apparently very well aware what was going on. “Blaming all the shit on him again, aren’t you?”
“Oh Min,” she snapped her attention to him in a second, obviously very well acquainted with him. “You were the only one missing at the party, for sure! Mighty guardian, hmm? Still playing a naughty nanny?”
“Man, she reached this point already?” the Asian groaned, giving Newt a reassuring look by the corner of his eye. “All gold and diamonds her mouth spouted, eh?”
“Well, you know the qualities of my mouth the best, don’t you, dear,” she shot back immediately and Minho stopped in his tracks, frowning at her spitefully. “I never heard you complaining. It actually sounded more like encouraging, to be honest.”
“Shut up,” a growl sliced the tension suddenly and Newt froze at the tone. He wasn’t alone, even the girl remained quiet and her smile faded a little, watching Thomas who said that, in surprise. “Shut up already, stop talking!”
She looked taken back a little, but then her eyes narrowed again.
“Oh, so now you play it tough?” she hissed. “Manning up, huh? No one is gonna believe you, you know. You know very well you’re messed up, and you’ll stay that way. He’s gonna leave you soon too, because you’ll just get on his nerves like you do to everyone.”
She glanced back at Newt, taking a deep breath before speaking again.
“You should get away when you can. Dealing with his whining gets tiresome, no matter how good the sex is.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Brenda’s voice added to the mix and Newt cringed a little. The girl visibly wavered, her expression morphing into something equal to nervousness when the artist appeared next to Thomas, her eyes dark and stormy. She looked like she was ready to kill. “She has this nasty habit to get into your head, you know. Pulling out facts and twisting them.”
“I only told him the truth,” the girl shrugged, but her posture was stiffer than before, as if Brenda was scaring the shit out of her. Newt wouldn’t even be surprised. “Sharing my experience. He looks too cute to be taken down by this dysfunctional sex machine.”
She didn’t hide the sneer when she looked back at Thomas, but she didn’t keep it long when a loud smack landed. The girl gasped, holding her cheek with an accusation in her eyes, but Brenda, who just hit her without hesitation, only eyed her with disgust.
“Just get out of here, you piece of trash,” she told her angrily. “And don’t ever come close to either of those two again, if you want to keep your pretty face intact.”
“Fuck you, you crazy ass bitch,” the blondie growled, but one threatening step towards her made her change her mind and she turned around and disappeared in the crowd.
“Got, that heinous bitch always make me want to break her neck,” Minho fumed, giving Brenda a high-five. He turned towards the couple and attempted a smile: “All good?”
“Fucking amazing,” Thomas growled and suddenly Newt felt the grip on his hand easing up until the writer let go completely. “How about you mind your own business next time?!”
“How about you actually think with your head for once, and not your dick?” Minho countered angrily. “You looked like you were fucking ready to jump her!”
“Shut up!” the writer barked out. “I don’t need you to fight my battles anymore, Minho, for god’s sake!”
“You apparently still do,” the Asian responded coldly. “How much shit do you think Newt can take before he gets fed up, huh?”
“Minho, that’s enough,” the blond said tiredly. “Just leave it. She is gone. Nothing happened.”
“Nothing happened because you stopped it,” Minho retorted, his tone bitter. “I’m sorry to break the news to you, bun, but your fucking boyfriend has some issues he still apparently hadn’t worked out.”
“That’s enough,” Thomas growled. “Fuck you.”
With that he simply turned around and left them standing at the bar alone. Minho started shouting profanities after him; Brenda ordered a drink and Newt felt like throwing up. His legs carried him without his consent after the writer, dragging through the crowd out of the club, hoping, seriously hoping Thomas didn’t do anything idiotic (it could include all sort of stuff – searching for the girl, taking a taxi and going to drink somewhere, walking somewhere alone, abandoning Newt so easily).
What even happened? Newt’s alcohol hazed brain had a difficulty to understand everything that had been said, all the implications and accusations, a painful grip Thomas had on him the whole time. Newt was so stunned by her sudden talk he just couldn’t react, wasn’t even able to shut her up, just staring and gasping for breath and hurting inside after each word.
And now, when he finally managed to get out of the club and breathe the fresh air, the hopelessness and a strange burning anger shot through him at the same time, with Thomas nowhere to be seen. He cursed, turned around and then back. He left his phone inside, along with his coat. The only thing he had on him was his cigarettes, so he took one and lighted it, feeling he needed to calm down somehow.
“Are you already fed up with me?”
He almost choked on the smoke when the voice came, coughing and wheezing for several seconds before he realized Thomas was sitting at the stairs, watching him from there with an unreadable expression.
“Do you want to bloody kill me?” he croaked, throwing the cigarette away in disgust.
“Are you?” Thomas ignored it and pushed again. The blond send him a death glare, something that Thomas should have been familiar with already during their time together. It meant a high level of being pissed off, almost a red alarm that would say “run and hide”.
“Look,” he started gruffly. “It’s-,”
“I’d understand if you are,” Thomas interrupted him simply. “Everyone is after time.”
“Thomas-,”
“I just hate how she can get under my skin every time,” the writer hissed, more to himself than to Newt. “She is always there, pushing the right buttons, and I just can’t-,”
“Are you bloody serious?” the blond stopped him and walked closer, towering above him threateningly. “Are you bloody serious, Thomas? Are you telling me you’d go and sleep with her, because you can’t control yourself?”
“No, I-,”
“Think carefully of what you are going to say, man. Carefully,” Newt growled, his voice lower. “Because if you say yes, I swear to god I’m going to hurt you.”
“Newt-,”
“Do you want to bloody fuck her or not?!”
“No!” Thomas voice came back with a loud, menacing echo, and he stood up, now having a height advantage against the blond. His fists were clenched, eyes a little wild.
“So what was all the touching about? She hurt you and you let her?” Newt didn’t back up an inch, looking up to his fiancé stubbornly. Thomas face was angry, really angry and in normal case Newt would be worried, terrified maybe, since the anger was aimed at him. But nothing along those lines came to him. He was staring back, ready to take him down if he needed to.
“This is not your business, Newt,” the writer bit out. “Not anyone’s business.”
“Thomas, you probably forgot about this,” Newt raised his hand, showing the ring. “You belong to me.”
“I don’t belong to anyone!” Thomas barked and Newt took a step back. A sudden dullness crashed into him, waste and cold.
“I see,” he mumbled only. His body felt heavy and tired, his mind buzzed. “I guess we are not ready then.”
Thomas’ face went through several expressions after that and then settled on a pure shock, staring at Newt slowly reaching for his ring, pulling it down slowly.
“Or you are not,” the blond added in a whisper and held the ring up, in front of the man. “Take it.”
“No, Newt, please-,”
“Take it!”
A sharp order in his voice made Thomas to take the ring after all, gripping it in his palm tightly. His face was absolutely desperate now, a painful expression that should had made Newt’s heart hurt.
But nothing came. Only the waste dullness where the love should had been.