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“C’mon, Min, I know you know what Newt likes to eat!” Thomas tickled the Runner again, causing him to roll up into a ball of laughter on the ground. “I won’t tell him I got it from you.”
Minho calmed down, putting his hands out to protect himself. “Okay, okay, fine. He likes the special dish Frypan makes every Wednesday, with an extra pinch of pepper and chili flakes.”
Upon hearing that, Thomas made a face. “That’s what Newt likes? But it’s awful!” He didn’t really like the salty taste; he was more of a sweet-stuff person, apparently.
“Yeah, well, he does, shank, and he has for the past three years that he was here.” Minho shrugged. “I don’t like it either, though I guess Newt has a soft spot for spicy and salty food.”
Thomas sighed, helping Minho up to his feet. “Well, thanks Min. I owe you one.”
“But what you gonna do with that information, shank?” Minho wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “You like him?”
The brunet immediately blushed, the blush making its way up from his neck quicker than his running, and he scratched the back of his head. “Uh…”
“Ah, no worries, shank,” Minho grinned. “It’s not like you’re the only gay guy around here anyway. Good luck!” He waved, turning around and leaving before Thomas could say anything. Looks like his little secret was known.
“Hey, Frypan,” Thomas stood there at Frypan’s hut, wondering why he was doing this in the first place.
The said boy turned around from the counter. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Could I…ask you a favour?” Thomas began. “I know you’re busy, but this is an emergency.”
Frypan patted his hands dry. “Emergency, you say?”
Thomas nodded rapidly, his head seemingly able to fall off. “Could you cook the special meal on Wednesday? With an extra pinch of pepper and chili flakes.”
The other boy raised an eyebrow, surprised. “But you don’t like it. Unless…”
The brunet laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, it’s kind of for Newt.”
Frypan smiled widely as it dawned upon him. “Oh…You like Newt, don’t you, eh?”
Thomas couldn’t help but blush again, even though he had just recovered from the previous episode. “Could you help me?”
He guffawed, making the brunet all the more embarrassed. “No problem, shank. Do you want to give it to Newt yourself or…?”
Thomas considered the options, and perhaps he might embarrass himself a little less if Frypan passed it to Newt for him instead, in case, well, Newt didn’t feel the same…
“Could you help me pass it to him?” Thomas asked shyly.
“Sure.” Frypan put a thumbs-up. “And good luck, shank.”
Thomas turned to leave, but then the other boy added something else. “You know…I think Newt may have some feelings for you too, Thomas.”
He turned around again, jaw nearly dropping to the ground. “Really? Are you serious?”
“Well, no one could miss the glances he constantly cast at you when you weren’t looking,” Frypan smirked. “Except for you, you clueless shank. Now I gotta make dinner, so bye.”
Thomas could feel his heart race at the thought of Newt liking him back. Was it possible, the second-in-command falling for a guy like him?
If what Frypan said was true, then he may well be in heaven.
Thomas stood a couple of positions behind Newt.
He watched as the cook passed Newt the special meal, and imagined Newt’s surprised face as he was handed the tin. Then, Frypan whispered something to Newt, and Thomas guessed he must have told him who did it, and Newt’s face turned a shade of red not unlike a tomato.
Pretending to not know anything, Thomas ate his food, while secretly excitedly waiting for Newt to come over. Come over to him, the blonde did, carrying his portion of food and his face beaming. The brunet pretended to not notice him, until the blonde sat down beside him.
“Tommy, Frypan told me you asked him to cook this for me.” Newt began. “Is that true?”
It’s okay, you can do it Thomas.
“Yeah,” Thomas replied bravely. “I did, because I found out that’s what you liked.”
“But I’ve never mentioned it to you, Tommy.” Newt narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“No, you didn’t. I just happened to…hear it somewhere.” Shit, what should he do? He promised Minho he would not tell Newt where he got the information from, but what if Newt insisted that he tell him?
Thomas knew Newt didn’t believe him, but he was not about to go back on his word, and so kept quiet.
Finally, Newt relaxed. “Never mind, then, Tommy. Thanks for the food, anyway. But why would you do this?”
Thomas flushed. God, would he just stop blushing for five minutes? He was tongue-tied, heart beating wildly like it was about to pop out of his chest any minute now. He wasn’t exactly the most eloquent person, and now the nervousness got to him.
Decidedly, he followed his instincts.
He pulled Newt closer, and kissed him right on the lips.
Newt was tense against the brunet, and Thomas thought about how wrong Frypan was, until the blonde relaxed. Secretly, he heaved a sigh of relief that the older boy didn’t reject him.
Slowly, he backed away, finding the blonde’s eyes on him, the eyes of happiness that seemed to infect Thomas and make him feel happy, too, and he realised that Frypan was right about Newt’s feelings after all. He was the clueless one.
“Thanks, Tommy,” said Newt, grinning, then placed a chaste kiss on Thomas’s lips, making him feel even more lightheaded than before.
Later that night, Newt told him how funny he looked after they moved away, the stupid grin on his face and his face in general, and Thomas could not help but feel extremely embarrassed, but the blonde simply kissed him again, and he wondered if he could ever get enough of Newt’s kisses.