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Thomas curses under his breath when the bell rings, immediately causing people to jump out of their seats and out of the classroom. He huffs and shuts his notepad making an echo ring in the room. He pushes his glasses further up the top of his nose and then packs his things before leaving. He hated when the bell rung. It interrupted his process of drawing someone in the room. He had a habit of drawing people whenever he had nothing to do. He loves to draw the significant details of someone that makes them different from others. This included birthmarks, freckles, moles, eyebrows, hair, lips, etc. He took special care in drawing them exactly how they are. He loved drawing so much that he used up three notebooks a year.
He grunts in pain when he’s pushed face-first into the lockers, his ears immediately assaulted with taunting laughs and comments.
“Move out of the way gay boy.” The vicious voice that he recognizes from many times of bullying in the last six years. It was his long-time enemy, Janson, who messed with him every chance he got. Thomas didn’t know why he was this way to him. Maybe he did it because he was gay, he didn’t know. He never did anything to the cruel man, but for some reason Janson hated him with passion.
Thomas collects his things that he dropped, and watches as Janson and his two friends walk away snickering. Thomas sighs, never one to like confrontations and continues his way to the cafeteria. He goes through the line, ignoring the comments he got from some of the bullies, and goes outside where he can eat without being disturbed. He sits up against the same tree he’s been sitting against since the beginning of freshman year and starts picking at his lunch. It was a spicy chicken sandwich with french fries, mashed potatoes, and green beans. It was one of the better lunches from the school cafeteria.
While he eats, he studies the people around him. The different ways they acted, how they talked, the way they expressed their emotions, the way they moved. He could imagine drawing a comic of some of them. One girl who was pretty popular was beautiful, and the way she moved was elegant. He thinks her name was Teresa. Her hair flows in the wind as she talks to her friends, her hands moving as she talked. She was one of those who moved her hands when she talked to express herself. Thomas always found those people interesting to watch. He imagines drawing a comic of her, each page showing various movements.
He glances over the crowds of people, eyeing them all carefully to pick who he was going to draw next. It’d have to be quick, due to the start of fifth period getting closer.
He jolts when he sees a certain blond. The boy was in numerous drawings in Thomas’s notepads that he refuses to tell anyone about. His name was Newt, and Thomas found him the most beautiful human being in the world.
He had tons of drawings of Newt. He had drawings of his hands, his legs, his neck, his eyes, his lips, etc. He doesn’t know how he finishes them. Whenever he draws the beautiful boy, he ends up gazing at him much longer than necessary.
His hands were his favorite to draw. He drew them in a way to make them look as soft as he imagines they are. He imagines holding them and kissing them. He sometimes imagines those hands all over him and he has to stop before he makes an idiot out of himself by getting a hard-on in class.
His next favorite thing to draw was Newt’s eyes. They were the most enduring shade of brown and sometimes they sparkled when the sun hits them just right. They also held so much emotion. While Newt’s face was saying boredom, his eyes were saying something else. Thomas loved it when Newt looked at him, even when it’s an accident. Newt always smiled at him before looking away like it didn’t happen. Thomas always felt blissful when he was granted with seeing Newt’s eyes looking at him.
He was obsessed with the boy and he couldn’t help it. Newt talked to him only once in his life and he almost fell out of his seat. He just asked for him to pick up his dropped pencil, which Thomas scrambled to get, but Thomas remembers the british accent that laced in his words. His voice was even exquisite.
He didn’t even realize he was absently drawing until the bell rang and his hand jumped. He looks down and sees the starting outline of Newt’s jaw. He sighs and starts putting his things away. He throws his lunch away and heads for class. The most wonderful, yet horrid class he has. It was science class and he had it with Newt, which was his favorite thing about it, but Janson and his buddies were in it too. They always gave him hell.
He goes to his usual spot in the back of the classroom, speeding pass Janson. He feels the edge of Janson’s foot trying to trip him, which he successfully keeps himself from doing. He makes it to his seat with no harm done, and he sits down and takes his notepad out. He knows he’s not going to listen to anything the teacher was going to say. He hated science and his major he was going to study had nothing to do with science. He always found the tests online anyway so what was the point of taking notes?
He takes a pencil out and starts to add onto the line of Newt’s jaw. He creates the outline of his face with serious thought, knowing what Newt’s face looked like from gazing at it multiple of times. He blushes at the thought of Newt finding out how many times he’s stared at him and drew him from memory.
He tenses when Newt comes shuffling in, his hair doing little jumps from the movement. Thomas already imagining how he could put that on paper.
Newt was wearing a red shirt with his usual white hoodie that he wore every day. Thomas loved when he wore it. It made him look even cuter, and Thomas had probably drew him in it a million times. Plus the hoodie was tight around the biceps, leaving Thomas to imagine how strong the blond actually was. The thought gave him goosebumps.
The class was almost over now and Thomas was drawing Newt’s hair, getting close to finishing the drawing of the boy’s head. He was proud of it. It had all the little details and the tiniest freckles that Newt had on his cheeks. Repeatedly studying the boy made him an expert of knowing all the things about Newt that made him, him.
He was so busy shading in Newt’s hair, he didn’t notice Janson eyeing him. He didn’t hear the soft footsteps the boorish boy was making as he gets closer to the distracted drawing Thomas. The barbaric laughter completely unheard.
So when Thomas’s notepad was suddenly swiped from under his pencil and taken away from him, Thomas shouts in shock. He automatically reaches to grab it, but Janson takes it out of his reach. The wicked grin on the bully’s face made Thomas heart sink and stomach flip.
Despite Thomas’s tries to get his notepad back, Janson jogs away while looking frantically through the pages seeing all the things Thomas had drawn. All his hidden drawings of people, and unfortunately Newt was about 85 percent of those drawings.
At Thomas’s horror, Janson brings his notepad up for the whole class to see. The teacher was nowhere to be seen and Thomas is left to try to defend himself. Too bad that Janson’s friends kept him from going up and grabbing it back.
“Look everyone! The gay boy has a crush on Newt!” Janson announces with the wicked grin that seemed to be planted on his face like it was stuck there.
Thomas’s world comes crashing down as he hears laughter erupt in the classroom. They laughed harder every time Janson turned the page to show yet another picture of Newt. Thomas felt like he needed to throw up and his hands were shaking. He didn’t look at anyone in the eye. All he saw, through his watery, foggy eyes, that people were laughing and looking at him. He was no longer fighting against Janson’s goons to get his notepad back, too frozen to move.
The ringing of the bell awakens him though, and he bolts back to his desk to get his things and runs out of the room before everyone else. He sprints to the nearest bathroom and locks the door behind him. In anger, he throws his school things on the ground causing a loud boom to echo in the small bathroom. The sound of students crowding the halls had him feeling suffocated. His notepad was going to go all over the school and soon, not only Janson will be bullying him. Everyone will be judging him and laughing at him.
And for what? His sexuality of course, because everyone had the right to laugh at him for something he couldn’t control.
He runs back into the wall and slides down to the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees. He shakes as he frees his tears, letting them stream down his face. He starts to cry, feeling his life spin out of his control. Everyone will know about him. Everyone will laugh at him. Everyone will judge him. No one will look at him the same way again.
Newt.
Thomas cries and shakes harder realizing that Newt was never going to like him. He’ll now look at him with disgust in his eyes. The same eyes he fell in love with and can’t stop drawing. Those eyes are going to torture him and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He doesn’t know if he can handle those eyes judging him and hating him.
The bell rings meaning the start of sixth period, which was art. He knew his teacher would understand if he came late since he was one of her favorite students. He just couldn’t go yet. He didn’t know what he was to expect once he goes. Surely the news hasn’t traveled that fast.
There was a soft knock on the door and Thomas ignores it. There was another bathroom just down the hall since the school's population was huge. He does try to calm himself down so he doesn’t put himself into a panic attack. That would only make things worse for him.
Another knock sounds on the door and Thomas sucks in a breath.
“Bathroom is being cleaned,” Thomas rasps out with the best authoritative tone he could do. There was silence for a minute and Thomas thinks the person left. He goes back to sulking against the wall drowning in his thoughts.
“Thomas?”
Thomas’s stomach flips and his body freezes. He eyes the door thinking that he imagined the voice.
“Thomas let me in.”
The voice was softer now and Thomas knew he wasn’t dreaming. Newt was outside the door wanting in. Multiple scenarios run through his mind of what would happen if he were to let Newt in. Only one actually didn’t involve a slap or a laugh to his face.
“Thomas-“
“Why would I let you in? So you can laugh at me?” Thomas barks out. There was silence for a minute before he hears a draw of breath.
“I’m not going to laugh at you. Just let me in, okay?” Newt begs through the door. Thomas sighs, looking at the door like it’d tell him if he should or not. He really didn’t want to face Newt. He knew what Newt was going to say. He was going to say that he didn’t think about boys like that, that he was straight and liked girls. He also probably will say something like being disturbed about him drawing him when he didn’t know, and for him to stop. Thomas heart aches at the thought.
Either way, Thomas does stretch out a hand and unlocks the door. He shrinks back into his balled-up position against the wall. He eyes the door as it slowly opens and reveals the blond. Newt cautiously enters the bathroom and locks the door after him. Thomas keeps eye contact with him until Newt looks away to look at the thrown items across the room.
Thomas watches Newt as he sits down against the wall directly opposite of him. Thomas quickly looks away when Newt looks at him again. The eyes he’s been infatuated with was suddenly burning him as they looked at him. Never in his life would he have ever thought he wouldn’t want Newt to look at him.
“I like your drawings.”
Thomas eyes automatically look at Newt, surprised by the comment. Was this some kind of joke?
“You don’t have to lie to me. Just tell me how you really feel. I’ll stop drawing you, don’t worry,” Thomas heart aches as he says those words. The thought of never drawing Newt again hurt him. Newt was always his favorite thing to draw. Drawing him meant he’d have to look at him again to create another drawing idea. Another position to draw Newt in.
“Thomas I’m not lying,” Newt speaks out, gaining Thomas’s attention by scooting forward. The intense way Newt was looking at him frightened him.
“I love your drawings. I mean it,” Newt says sincerely with a small smile. The genuineness of his words was expressed by his eyes, that Thomas always relied on for his real emotions. He was shocked to see such honesty on Newt’s face. He felt himself start to relax and he was no longer in a ball. He was still weary though, so he keeps from scooting forward and saying anything more. That was probably all Newt had to say.
“Thomas will you please look at me?”
Thomas looks up from examining mindlessly at his fingers. Newt was so much closer now, he could reach out and touch him. He jumped back but ended up bumping into the wall behind him. A grin appears on the blond’s face.
Then Newt is sitting next to him. He was sitting so close, Thomas felt his breath on his shoulder. Thomas turns his head enough to look at Newt’s eyes, not entirely sure what was going on.
“Why do you draw me?” Newt whispers. His breath hitting Thomas’s cheek making him shutter. The question shocked Thomas. Wasn’t it obvious?
“Cause you’re beautiful,” Thomas lets out before he could stop it. He curses himself for saying that. He probably just freaked Newt out. Why did he have to say that? Couldn’t he have just said that he was-
Okay there wasn’t anything he could’ve said that wouldn’t have sounded the same way. He was too busy thinking that he didn’t notice the way Newt’s face reddened like a cherry.
“I notice all the times you look at me, you know.”
Thomas widens his eyes in horror. Did Newt really notice? There was suddenly fingers lightly brushing along his thigh and it made Thomas shiver. He turns his head some more, causing their faces to get just a little bit closer. The smile on Newt’s face didn’t falter.
“I see you watching me and then later you’re drawing in your notepad. I’ve always imagined you drawing me in that thing and wouldn’t you know, I was right all along. You were drawing me and I didn’t even know it,” Newt says with a fond smile on his lips. Thomas is surprised his eyes didn’t bug out from widening them so much. He was searching Newt’s face for any dishonesty but it was all truth. His smile was pure and his words were true. God this couldn’t be happening.
Then his face was being pulling forward and into a kiss. The feel of Newt’s lips against his had him in shock. His hands were balled up and his eyes were wide open. It takes only a few seconds to get into it. He slowly closes his eyes and tilts his head to get a better angle. It was a soft, innocent kiss that held a lot of emotion. It was the best kiss Thomas could’ve asked for and he didn’t want it to end. The feel of Newt’s hands caressing his face had him feeling heavenly.
Then Newt pulls away, Thomas chases after him to continue the kiss but Newt just giggles. Actually giggles.
“I like you too Tommy,” Newt whispers against his lips before bringing their lips together again. Thomas smiles in the kiss.