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Newt thought not being able to sleep is nothing as horrible as people believed. He had his bad nights when he couldn’t even lie in the bed without tossing and turning and fighting the restlessness, ending up smoking on the balcony and thinking of stupid stuff he did during his life, loathing himself and drowning in the self-doubt that maybe, probably, for sure, was the case of why he couldn’t fall asleep in the first place.
Some nights were alright; he lay down, closed his eyes, evened his breathing, and woke up in the morning. Those nights were rare before Thomas barged into his life; he always counted them as a win, even though he woke up still strangely tired from most of them. His body just didn’t know – was it right to sleep a lot? Or not sleep at all?
He was usually content with two, three hours of a shut-eye. It felt like enough most of the time, he was able to work, to concentrate. His brain didn’t lack more sleep and that made him to hold back with the complaining and going to the doctor to try to get rid of the insomnia that pestered him for most of his life.
He knew very well when it started – such thing was branded into his mind like a hot sign. After his leg injury all those “suicidal defamations” started to pour over him. He was desperate, he tried to show all those people it’s not true, but the more he tried, the more they talked. It kept him awake, thinking, wondering, self-doubting.
How exactly did it happen? Did I really just slip? Did I unconsciously want to kill myself? Did I have a reason? Were they right? Am I that weak?
All the thoughts mingled in his mind for so long before he left the school he found himself unable to fall asleep after, no matter how hard he tried. There were no bad talks about him at the college. Nothing wrong with him at work. But the sleep didn’t come, no matter how hard he tried.
After the time (and at some point during college) he found out cigarettes helped. It calmed his nerves, made him steady. In a short period of time he couldn’t think of not smoking in the evening, or when something seriously bothered him. It was like a stabilizer, keeping him in check, without the need to tremble or getting restless in the bed.
He rarely smoked during the day. He never smoked inside. But he usually smoked a lot during the sleepless nights.
It diminished a lot lately though. Thomas was keeping him warm and safe in the bed, and for some reason the sleep came easily with him being present. Just listening to his heartbeat or evened breathing during the restless nights made him calmer and without the urge to go and light a cigarette (it also might have been because Thomas always held him like a teddy bear, refusing to let go). Newt realized it was like a new addiction, something he couldn’t live without anymore, couldn’t cope. Feeling the warmth and pressure of someone else behind him, the familiar setting.
That was probably the reason why he couldn’t sleep today. Thomas wasn’t at home, visiting some friends in another city, and Newt refused to go with him – not just because they were people he didn’t know, or because he had tons of work he needed to do, but because he thought some time alone would work nicely for both of them.
Boy, was he wrong.
The only extra warmth was Tenda now, sleeping curled next to him, and it just wasn’t enough. He lay in the bed, staring to the ceiling and missed him. The sleep was out of the reach, somewhere far, far away, at the place where Thomas was now, in his hands, in his easy smiles and adoring eyes, in his warm body and loving touches, roaming over Newt’s back and over his stomach, mapping every curve and dip, teasing his ticklish sides and tracing his thighs, his fingers dancing too close to his groin, caressing, muttering hotly into his ear, repeating his name, and touching, long, sure strokes that made Newt pant and gasp and squirm, digging his heels to the bed sheets, whimpering when he got close, so close, and then love you came and everything exploded in satisfying detonation. And Newt couldn’t catch his breath, groaning into the pillow, and Thomas would…
“Goddamn,” the blond bit out, looking down at his messy hand. “Goddammit.”
***
Newt thought lying was a bad habit for anyone. Lying to yourself was even worse; dishonesty to your own feelings equalled a sure pain in the future. He didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t excited to see Thomas again.
Well, excited wasn’t the right word. Eager. He body was thrumming with eagerness, a familiar hunger for the other, the need and longing. One would say he shouldn’t be so attached after those years, that normally he would fall into a habit where the excitement wasn’t welcomed anymore.
Not a chance.
He couldn’t wait for Thomas to emerge from the train, he was ready to pounce at him the first moment he saw him, screw the people around. He hadn’t slept properly for 4 days and yet his body was still able to get hyperactive.
The train arrived few minutes late and Newt had to take a deep breath to calm himself down. People started to flood the station it was hard to orientate in the mass, but after a while he finally noticed his fiancé stepping out, a huge bag over his shoulder, talking to a guy that walked behind him with a huge smile on his face. Newt waited for a moment, wondering if they were going to part ways or not, but they stuck together all the way until Thomas started looking around and noticing the blond standing at the edge of the station.
He waved at him and nudged the shoulder of the other guy, pointing at Newt excitedly.
Who is it?
Suddenly all plans crumbled and Newt was able only to stand there, staring in confusion at the duo approaching him languidly, talking to each other happily.
“Hey, love,” Thomas greeted him with a smile, giving him a peck on his lips. “Have you been waiting long?”
“I have a name,” Newt uttered, suddenly strangely piqued. He was imagining it differently. This was like seeing your husband who you were with for 70 years after a visit at the proctologist. Absolutely anticlimactic. “And no. Just for few minutes.”
Thomas gently rubbed his arm, as in consolation, and focused back on his companion – a younger guy than both of them, that for sure. He had short, dark hair and a big smile on his face.
“That’s Aris,” Thomas quickly introduced him, patting his shoulder. “A college buddy.”
“Oh?” Newt raised an eyebrow. “Have you an amusing food nickname as well?”
“Nah, stayed Hermano,” Aris laughed with a hint of surprise in his voice. “Never had the patience or time to learn how to cook.”
“Jorge never liked him,” Thomas smirked. “Too cocky he said.”
“That guy never liked anyone,” Aris opposed. “You remember the sex education lesson he gave us?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Thomas rolled his eyes, but laughed all the same. “I thought it just couldn’t get any worse than that!”
“And it did,” Aris snorted. “Running to him having sex on the couch was the most traumatic thing I’ve ever witnessed.”
“Ew,” the writer trembled and then as if he remembered Newt presence he nodded towards his former classmate. “His flight is tomorrow evening, would you mind if he crashed at our place?”
Newt had to hold himself from rolling his eyes and snarling at both of them.
Just awesome.
***
Tenda spent the whole day under the couch. She refused to come out whenever Aris was around, and Newt took it a sign for not liking the guy as well.
Of course, he was friendly and smiley, but Newt was tired and really wanted to just curl around his fiancé and sleep. He didn’t even get a proper kiss because of this kid. Just a stupid peck like when a parent is saying hello to their child who came back from the school, how lame was that?
Not to mention Thomas kept on talking to him. Showing him stuff. Telling tales. Not leaving him for a second.
Like a bloody old married couple.
So Newt sulked in private. At first he pretended to be super busy (well, he had lots of work, but it could wait, normally) on his laptop in the living room until they barged in from the kitchen with popcorn and stuff, ready to “watch Lord of the Rings marathon”. That meant like 9 hours of them being at this spot, sitting annoyingly close, having all those private jokes Newt didn’t understand (and didn’t want to understand even when the world was ending), so he just excused himself and left the flat.
At first he called Alby, but the man had a family dinner with Clara’s parents (“My condolences, buddy.” “Thanks, gonna need it. Kick that kid out of the flat, tell him you need sex.” “I don’t need sex, I just want to… never mind.”). So he tried Teresa (for who knows what reason), but the gal was out of the town (“Nooo, I’ll come back if you need? We can paint our nails pink and talk shit about the kiddo!” “Bye, Teresa!”). He ended up calling Minho, ready for hearing he was running somewhere or working out, but ended up pleasantly surprised when the Asian agreed to meet right away (“I’m having you all to myself? Who am I to say no to that?” “I feel like I’m going to regret it…”).
They met up for ramen (not surprising, but Minho insisted and Newt liked the food, so he only shrugged and went along with it), sitting comfortably at the corner of the half full restaurant.
“Aris?” Minho raised eyebrows. “Wow, that kid is still alive? He always pulled all kinds of stunts I doubted he will live up to 30.”
“He’s in a serious danger for not reaching 25,” Newt grumbled, sipping his soup. “I’m in a serious case of exhaustion and no mood for being denied what I want.”
“Getting hot and messy?” Minho leered and Newt rolled his eyes.
“Sleep.”
“Wait, what?” the Asian blinked few times. “Sleep? You need Thomas to be able to sleep?”
“Yep,” the blond just shrugged, picking up an egg slice and eating it.
“A little help here?”
“I can’t sleep,” Newt sighed, stirring his soup tiredly. “Sometimes at all. Sometimes it’s better. Since I’m with Thomas, it’s almost normal. But since he was gone for 4 days, I’ve had troubles again, and now I’m tired and cranky, and that guy is just sitting there next to him, hogging all his attention and all I got was a stupid peck for hello and it’s just frustrating.”
“Someone is jelly~,” Minho teased with a wide grin and Newt didn’t have the strength to even get mad at him.
“It’s pissing me off,” he just mumbled. “And it’s pissing me off that I’m pissed off. Jealous of his friend, what a drag.”
“I think it’s pretty normal,” Minho shrugged. “Like… Aris can get handsy, as far as I remember. All over people.”
“Geez, thanks, exactly what I needed to hear to feel better.”
“At your service,” Minho gave him a smug smile and Newt was happy when he changed the topic to less stressing one.
***
Newt wasn’t a jealous person in default. He liked to be sure in a relationship, of course, but he never strived for getting possessive and needy when his partners talked to somebody else. Why? If they didn’t want to be with him, why would they still remain? Talking to someone else, or hugging them on that matter, didn’t mean shit to him.
Until now.
When he returned to the flat around the evening, feeling even more sleepy than when he left, he found Thomas and Aris still on the couch with the guest sleeping with his head on Thomas’ lap, stretched all over the couch, snuggled under the blanket. That image made his blood boil and in his dissatisfaction he pretended not to see it, switched the light on and probably made a bit too much noise than was necessary.
It fulfilled the intent – Aris woke up, all dazed and disoriented, and sat up, blinking sleepily at the still going TV and then on Newt fussing around the living room with stormy expression.
“Wow, I fell asleep,” the boy mumbled and stood up, rubbing his eyes. “Toilet~.”
The first second he left the room, Newt had had it. He just didn’t care anymore, screw the sleepiness, this was on the edge of his patience and tolerance, so he walked to his staring fiancé with several long steps and stubbornly sat on his lap, pushed him sharply against the backrest of the couch and kissed him demandingly.
It was an angry kiss, a little unhappy and very hungry, and Newt wasn’t even sure what he was doing anymore, attacking him like this, like a stupid child wanting attention. But Thomas’ lips were responding, sucking on Newt’s lower lip and biting it, and his hands held him by his hips, pushing him down, and Newt gasped into his mouth, realizing Thomas was already hard and he could feel it.
“Bastard, you were holding out on me,” Newt growled when Thomas lowered his head towards the blonde’s neck, sucking it for the obligatory marking. “While playing all buddy buddy with that guy.”
“Mmm,” Thomas bit a little, earning a rich moan in return. “Are you jealous?”
“Shut up,” Newt grinded down, relishing the whimper that came as a response. “You belong to me, and I hate sharing.”
“Oh yeah?” the writer chuckled, but it changed immediately to a groan when Newt pushed down insistently.
“Pecking me like if you didn’t even care, don’t think I’ll forget about that soon,” Newt bit his ear, but the anger was slowly seeping away with each touch that Thomas landed on his body.
“I didn’t want to look too needy,” Thomas replied to him, kissing his collarbones.
“Fuck with needy, I was desperate,” the blond growled and Thomas moaned, his hips bucking up. The friction was delicious, but not enough.
“Uhhhhhh….”
Newt froze and Thomas under him as well.
“Sorry guys, I, uh… will just… don’t mind me, I need some fresh air anyway, yeah… fresh air sounds the best,” Aris babbled, red like a tomato at the bathroom door and Newt never saw anyone to leave so hastily before. He almost tripped over his feet.
The silence fallen again, until both of them burst into laughter, catching their ragged breaths.
“I forgot he was still here,” Thomas hiccupped, muffling his giggles in the crook of Newt’s neck. “His luck with walking onto someone having sex is legendary.”
“Well,” Newt glanced at the closed door and back at Thomas with a predatory smile. “Since this is out of the way… you know, I haven’t slept properly for 4 days and I had this fantasy of you… and it made me a little excited.”
“A little?” Thomas brushed against the front of the blonde’s pants and smiled lewdly.
“Your responsibility,” Newt pointed out and Thomas apparently agreed, since he tugged his fiancé back down and kissed him soundly.
“And only mine.”
“Touché.”