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"Are you gonna ask him out?"
Thomas startles at the voice and almost drops his coffee. He glares at the blond haired boy who decided to sneak up behind him. "I don't know what you're talking about," he says stubbornly. It is a very poor and a very obvious lie, but he sticks to it.
Matthew rolls his eyes in response. "Tom, seriously, you've been staring at him like a goddamn love-sick puppy for the past three weeks. Just ask him out already."
Thomas sighs. There's no point in pretending that he doesn't know what his friend is talking about. "Math, he's way out of my league," he grumbles.
Thomas lets out an undignified yelp when Matthew smacks him over the head and glares at him some more. Matthew, unfazed by the death stare Thomas is giving him, says, "Shut the fuck up with the stupid self-depreciation. That's my area. Go and talk to him."
Thomas turns around to look at the person who is the subject of their present conversation. Alastair Carstairs is standing in the middle of the football field, looking extremely hot with sweat glistening off his dark brown skin. And no, Thomas doesn't say this because he is biased. He might have a tiny crush on the captain of the football team but he is pretty sure that Alastair is just objectively that good looking.
He stares as Alastair laughs while talking to whoever the fuck he is talking to and opens up a water bottle to take a sip. Thomas' mouth goes dry at the sight, in an absurd, horny irony. Jesus, the sight of a person drinking water shouldn't be that hot, but then again, it's Alastair Carstairs, and Thomas feels compelled to use that as his defence.
He half hears a sigh from Matthew, and decides to ignore it. His eyes, apparently, have their own accord and are glued to the way a drop of water slides down the side of Alastair's mouth and goes all the way down his neck, into his jersey t-shirt. Almost breathless with the sudden onslaught of feelings, and as if suddenly remembering he is in a public place, even though there is not much public around, Thomas clears his throat.
He turns towards Matthew, who, from the looks of it, has decided to give up on his best friend and let him wallow in the misery of his own making—probably for the best, and is busy tapping away on his phone. "I'm going to the library," he announces, making Matthew roll his eyes without even looking up from his phone and wave him away with a yeah, sure.
He chances one last look at Alastair, then decides, for the sake of his own sanity, to make his way to the library. He is determined to not look at Alastair again as he passes by him, since, to his utter luck, the library is on the opposite side of the campus from where he is and he has to cross the length of the football field to get there.
Fate, however, seems to hate him because right when he has almost walked past where Alastair is standing, trying very, very hard not to look at him, Alastair calls out to him, making him halt instantly. Taking a deep breath, he dares to look up towards Alastair and sees him walking towards Thomas. Oh.
He holds his breath as Alastair nears him, smiling with his perfect, crooked teeth, because of course, Alastair is perfect even when he is not. He keeps his mouth firmly shut, though, so he won't do something stupid like blurt out the very thought that Alastair is perfect.
"Hey," Alastair says when he reaches Thomas, smiling softly. Thomas doesn't know how long he can handle looking at that soft smile before he combusts.
"Hi," Thomas manages to let out, surprisingly in a normal voice, and internally pats himself on the back for the small achievement.
"How are you?" Alastair asks.
Thomas swallows and says, "Good. You?" He is surprised and proud at his ability to keep a straight face and not accidentally let out the inner turmoil he is feeling at this simple conversation.
It's not like he hasn't talked to Alastair before. They can definitely be considered friends, good friends, even. They've known each other a while, and they've spent hours in the library together every day. They've talked a lot too, from interests to homework to the books they're currently reading, to how good that one coffee shop around the block is, to how infuriating sisters can be sometimes. They've definitely talked a lot. Thomas doesn't think it has been so easy to talk to anyone as talking to Alastair is, in fact. And Alastair also enjoys ranting in front of Thomas about whatever thing he's pissed at, apparently. Thomas finds those rants very, very adorable.
Anyway, yeah, he definitely has a bond with Alastair. And while he always has thought that Alastair was probably the most gorgeous man to ever exist, well, he didn't particularly have a crush on him before. Now, though, he does. He very much does and it's kinda hard to not think about that when Alastair is in his space at least half of the day.
Like right now. Alastair, seemingly oblivious to how Thomas is currently being tortured by their proximity, replies, "Yeah, I'm good. Are you going to the library?"
Thomas nods.
"Alright, I'll come with," he says simply, as if they do that—go to the library together—more often than not, as if it's a routine for them. And that's exactly the thing, isn't it? Because it is a routine for them. They do go to the library together every day after Alastair's practice. Sometimes Thomas is already there when Alastair joins him after finishing practice, but the point of the matter is that they do end up spending hours together in the library almost every day.
"Don't you wanna change first?" Thomas points out.
"Yeah, it'll just take five minutes," he says. Then adds, "You mind waiting?" at the same time Thomas says, "I'll wait."
Alastair smiles at that, and Thomas can't help but return the smile. Without another word, Alastair turns around to walk towards the locker room, then throws over his shoulder, "I'll meet you by the entrance!"
Thomas makes his way to where he's supposed to and waits. He throws away his coffee cup when he's finished with it in a nearby dustbin. Five minutes later, Alastair walks towards him, out of his jersey t-shirt and shorts and into a pair of casual jeans and shirt. He has the sleeves of the shirt rolled up till his elbow and is carrying a bag over one shoulder, and Jesus, forearms shouldn't be that hot but the sight still makes Thomas gulp and divert his gaze.
When Alastair reaches him, they silently enter the college building and walk in the direction of the library. They pass the music room on the way, and Alastair looks at it fondly, again reminding Thomas of the fact that Alastair is just perfect, because Thomas remembers that Alastair plays the piano too. And is excellent at it. So yeah, he's basically perfect.
The silence is broken when Alastair starts talking about this one annoying asshole on the football team, and then it quickly turns into a rant, and continues all the way till they reach the library. Once inside, Alastair greets the librarian—who he is definitely a favourite of, because of course he is, while Thomas gives her a sweet smile, and then they quietly make their way to their regular table, which is tucked in a cozy corner near a window. They take their seats, and fall into routine—discussing any homework they have in very quiet, hushed tones, or sharing something funny that happened in one of the very few classes they don't have together, or talking about their friends, or simply working on their own thing in comfortable silence.
A while later, when they're both in the middle of their own readings, Alastair takes an apple out of his bag and starts eating. Thomas gives a quick glance towards him, then looks back down at his book, and then looks back up again. He is certainly not prepared for the things the sight in front of him makes him feel, things he shouldn't feel while looking at someone eating a fucking apple. But again, in his defence, it's just not any person, but Alastair. And it seems like when it comes to Alastair, his feelings and desires seem to have a mind of their own, with no rational thought.
He tries to shut those feelings and desires down and focus back on the book, as futile as it may be, but then there's just something about the way Alastair bites into the apple that takes Thomas' breath away and he is suddenly filled with a very deep desire to kiss Alastair.
And, oh. That's something he isn't prepared for. He might have a crush on the guy, but this sudden, out-of-the-blue want, need, to kiss Alastair is a bit too much. He feels like he needs to get away before he does something as stupid as act on the desire right then and there.
Scraping his chair back, he hastily grabs his phone and gets up, moving out quickly with a muttered, "I'm gonna get some air."
He walks away before he can hear Alastair's response, long legs carrying him out of the library quickly. Once out, he lets out a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding in. He takes a few more deep breaths, and after a couple of minutes, he is just beginning to calm his racing heart down when Alastair comes out of the library too.
Thomas' breath gets stuck in his throat again as he tries very hard to conceal his expression into something neutral, trying to not show that he is having a full blown gay panic moment all because his crush ate a fucking apple.
"Tom?" Alastair says, and, fuck, his voice is concerned. He moves towards Thomas and Thomas has to dig his feet into the ground so he doesn't move back to put some space between them. He doesn't think he wants to explain that he can't be too close to Alastair right now or he will probably grab his shirt and yank him into a kiss. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Thomas says and clears his throat. "It just got a bit suffocating in there."
Alastair nods in understanding. "Well, we can go sit on the bleachers, if you want. We were just reading anyway. We can do that there too, or we can get some snacks and just sit there."
God, Alastair is so caring. Thomas realises that that is definitely one of the things he loves about Alastair and fuck, there it is, another unexpected realisation that is too much for him to handle.
Going back to the library is out of the question, because all Thomas would be able to think about, in there, is Alastair eating the apple. He can't go home because Alastair knows him, too well, and would immediately know there is something going on with Thomas and Thomas actively wants to keep that fact hidden. So, bleachers it is.
But he knows he is not going to be able to focus on reading the book now, so there's no point in trying. "Alright," he says. "Let's go to the bleachers. I want sour candy."
Alastair chuckles but nods. They go back into the library to pack up their things and then make their way towards the football field again, stopping by a vending machine on the way and getting their snacks.
The walk back to the field and then up the bleachers is spent in casual conversation. Thomas feels relatively okay by the time they find a nice spot to sit, and is able to engage in their usual banter almost effortlessly.
The weather is breezy and nice, and they have a good time just talking and sometimes snickering at their inside jokes. Suddenly, though, it starts raining and they have to rush to find cover. They end up in a small shed-like thing, since the building is all the way on the other side of the field.
They're panting as they stand there under the cover, and then burst out laughing when they share a look.
"Just our luck to get stuck here in the rain," Thomas laughs, shaking his head.
Alastair grins. "Yeah."
Thomas realises, when he tries to take a step backwards and his back hits the wall, just how small of a space this is. They have just enough room to stand, and that means Alastair is standing very close to him.
He looks even prettier like this, Thomas thinks. Strands of his half-wet hair are falling down his head, and his brown eyes are shining as he looks up at Thomas, and there is a drop of water on his lips and fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This close, it's too tempting, too inviting, and yet, he can't do anything about it. He considers stepping out into the rain just to put some space between them, but then Alastair would ask why the fuck is he doing that and what is he supposed to say then?
Thomas swallows, and there is a shift in the air between them as he looks into Alastair's eyes and finds him staring right back at Thomas. He feels an undercurrent of electricity in his veins and before he even knows what he's doing, Thomas leans down and presses his lips against Alastair's.
Alastair lets out a small gasp in his mouth, and then he is kissing back, hands travelling up to bury in Thomas' hair. Thomas, whose brain has definitely stopped working, rests a tentative hand on Alastair's waist while the other grabs his face. Their mouths glide together, warm and wet and soft and slow, and Thomas feels a shiver go up his spine at how fucking good it feels. God, he doesn't ever want to stop kissing Alastair.
But then reality hits him as he realises that he is kissing Alastair and he breaks off with a gasp. They are both panting, and he doesn't have the courage to open his eyes, fearing he'll see regret on Alastair's face.
But then, Alastair murmurs, "Definitely thought it'd take you longer to do that."
Thomas snaps open his eyes and stares at Alastair, who still has his arms around Thomas' neck and is smiling at him. "I— you— what?"
Alastair chuckles at his eloquence. "You think you're that good at hiding things or that I'm that oblivious?"
"I— what?" Thomas repeats, because that is all he can do apparently.
Alastair rolls his eyes, still smiling. "I can see when someone so obviously likes me."
"You… you know I like you? You already knew?"
"Oh, you thought you were doing a good job of hiding it, didn't you?"
"Uh… yes?"
Alastair gives him a fond shake of head. "Right, of course you did."
"Wait, so, you're not… mad? Or feeling weird? Or—"
Alastair cuts him off by pulling him down into a deep kiss, deeper than the one before. "I hope that answers any and all of your questions," Alastair says when he pulls back.
Thomas is dumbfounded. What the fuck just happened? He kissed Alastair, and then Alastair kissed him back, and then he said he already knew that Thomas liked him, and then he kissed Thomas again. So, did that mean—?
"So, you— you like me too?"
Alastair groans and mutters something that sounds a lot like what an idiot but before Thomas has a chance to protest, Alastair pulls him down into another kiss, deep and long and hard. And yeah, he thinks, that does answer all his questions.