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Newt’s first gym class wasn’t until halfway through the year. During the first semester, he’d taken a health class. Now, he had the pleasure of spending the rest of the year being sweaty for the last half of every day.
He walked into the gymnasium, somewhere he’d only been for assemblies. Instead of going to the changing rooms like everyone else, Newt went to the gym teacher’s office first.
Newt had a limp. It was from an old injury, one he didn’t like talking about. His leg had broken but it never healed correctly, leaving him with a—most likely permanent—limp. He had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for Thursday, so he could get a doctor’s note explaining why he couldn’t participate in most gym activities. He could still do weight lifting and other arm exercise activities—if that was a thing you did in grade12 gym class—but otherwise Newt wasn’t sure he could even do something as ‘strain-free’ as table tennis.
He knocked on the office door and entered when he heard the teacher say, “Come in.”
“Mr. Janson? Hi, I’m one of your new students this semester. My name is Newt,” Newt said, not leaving the doorway. Mr. Janson hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t look up from his sports magazine. “I just need to tell you I can’t participate in most of your lessons. I have—”
Mr. Janson scoffed, cutting Newt off. “Do you have a doctor’s note, ‘Newt’?”
Newt hesitated, slightly pissed off. This was what he was about to say before he was interrupted. “Not yet. I have an appointment on Thursday, so I can bring one in on Friday.”
“If you don’t have a note, then it must not be that serious, hmm?” Mr. Janson said, finally looking at Newt over his magazine.
“Sir, I have a limp. It’s a lasting side effect from an injury I had a few years ago—”
“Again, if you don't have a note, then I won't be excusing you from doing the work just like everyone else.”
“But—”
“Newt, I don't want to repeat myself. Now go to the locker rooms, class starts in five minutes,” Mr. Janson said, fully setting down his magazine.
Newt pursed his lips and left the doorway he had been standing in. His limp was already more pronounced, just from the anticipation of the next 50 minutes.
⚜⚜⚜
Gym class was hell. Newt didn’t know anyone in this class. The only person he’d talked to before was a kid named Aris, and even then it had been to borrow some notes in their maths class.
Furthermore, Newt was convinced Mr. Janson was out to get him. Mr. Janson claimed it was customary for their first lesson to be the Fitness Gram Pacer Test, but Newt didn’t believe him.
“What—what the—fuck,” Newt panted to himself. “This—cannot be—humane,” He usually would have walked away at this point, his limp was bad enough that any step would shoot daggers up his entire body, but—
“Remember, this is worth 30% of your grade!” Mr. Janson yelled to the class. Most of them were doing just fine. Most of them also had two perfectly functioning legs.
Mr. Janson went on to explain how long they needed to stay in for each grade. If Newt could make it for just three more rounds, only three more times across the gym, then he could scratch by with a ‘D’.
The beep sounded, and the class took off to the other side of the gymnasium. Newt limped along, fast enough he would make it in time, but still slow enough it was cutting it close.
And when he completed the next two rounds, he fell to the ground. A ‘D’ would have to do.
He was well aware that he was one of three kids out at this point, both of the others also just having quit, but he didn’t care. He was just impressed with himself for having made it this far.
He painstakingly made it to the bleachers and sat in the first row. He didn’t have the patience to climb to his usual spot in the top left corner where he sat during assemblies with Thomas.
Mr. Janson made a mockingly sad face and made some marks on his clipboard. Newt wanted to punch him.
⚜⚜⚜
As soon as the bell rang, Newt was into the changing room and out the gym doors in only two minutes. It was impressive, really, considering how absolutely dreadful his leg felt, but he was on a mission. Lunch was next, and lunch meant sitting for half an hour. Lunch also meant Thomas.
Usually, Newt would be over the moon to spend even five minutes with Thomas. However, Thomas had a test next class period, so Newt didn’t want to distract Thomas from studying, and Newt had a feeling Thomas wouldn’t be able to focus if he knew Newt was in pain.
So Newt got in the lunch line as fast as he could, behind only twelve or thirteen other people, and sat at a table before Thomas had even entered the cafeteria.
Newt and Thomas’ other friends trickled in, Gally and Minho sitting across from Newt. Chuck, a freshman Thomas had practically adopted, sat a seat away from Newt, leaving a seat empty for Thomas.
Newt was paying very close attention to his food, focusing on anything but his leg, when the distinct voice of Thoams approached behind him. Newt smiled despite himself.
Thomas set his tray of food down, and swung his legs over the bench, kicking Chuck in the process. They laughed and Thomas apologized, and Newt continued to focus on anything but the throbbing pain.
“Hey Newtie,” Thomas said, squishing his face against Newt’s face. Newt scrunched his face up in mock disgust and shoved Thomas away, but they both knew it was all in good fun.
What was the relationship between Newt and Thomas, you might ask? Newt wondered the same thing. Often, Newt wasn’t sure if Thomas thought they were dating. Often, Newt wasn’t sure if Newt thought they were dating. They were practically joined at the hip, and being around Thomas didn’t drain the energy from him like hanging around the others did. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the bastard, but Minho was exhausting to be with for an extended amount of time.
The only reason Newt knew they weren’t dating, was because they’d never kissed.
And maybe Newt could say, ‘not for lack of trying!’, but any time they were having a tender moment, Thomas would clear his throat and loudly talk about anything else. The track team, the newest Pixar movie, Taylor Swift, you name it.
Maybe Thomas didn’t like Newt, in the way Newt obviously liked Thomas.
“What’s going on in your head over there, Newtie?” Thomas interrupted Newt’s thoughts, and Newt shrugged.
“Thinking about how you should be studying, Tommy, ” Newt said, and Thomas groaned loudly.
“You’re no fuuuunnnnn,” he said, and Newt shoved him with his leg, luckily not the painful one.
“I can help if you need. But I warn you, your maths is more advanced than mine,” Newt said.
“It’s math, you colonizer,” Minho said, over his full mouth of what could be called mashed potato.
“Remind me, what do you call aubergines again? Oh right, eggplant. What the fuck is an egg plant? ” Shot back Newt.
“Alright, Mr. I Call Cigarettes ‘Fa—”
“Dude,” Thomas said, as the whole table was laughing. Newt rolled his eyes and gently poked a finger in Thomas’s side, reminding him to study.
Thomas got out his work, and Newt sat and listened to the others chat about various topics.
“Mr. Donahue gave a pop quiz, by the way. Pretty easy, but number 5 is a trick question—”
“Did you hear what Kim Kardashian said the other day? Oh my god, so apparently she put out this weird ad—”
“Dude, you don’t have a chance. He’s like, 20 years older than you. What the fuck do you mean by ‘I can fix him’? He’s Hozier, there’s nothing to fix —”
⚜⚜⚜
The bell rang, and everyone gave soft groans and started stacking their trash onto their trays to throw away.
Thomas packed away his maths materials and waited for Newt to get up so they could walk together to their next classes—they were across the hallway from each other.
“No, you go ahead. I’m going to be a second,” Newt said and waved Thomas away. Thomas, however, didn’t budge.
“Oh! I’ll wait. Miss Cooper is usually late back from lunch too.”
Newt shook his head. “No, really, go on ahead.”
Thomas frowned. “You alright? What’s going on?”
“Nothing, I just…” But Newt hadn’t actually thought of an excuse yet. “Need to text Sonya.”
“You had all lunch to do that,” Thomas pointed out, and Newt finally gave in.
“Fine, you win.” Newt stood up, using the table more than he usually would. The dull pain soared to a white-hot stabbing, but Newt covered the wince with a cough. “I just didn’t want to have to quiz you on the walk to class.”
Thomas didn’t look like he bought it, but didn’t press. Newt trailed a little behind Thomas on the way out of the cafeteria, so Thomas couldn’t see Newt attempting to make his walk look as it usually did. By the time they were to the stairs, Thomas was accustomed to letting Newt lean against him.
“Ask me what the compound interest formula is,” Thomas said, and Newt pretended to groan in frustration.
“Come on, I won’t even know if you’re right.”
“The final amount is equal to the principal, times—”
“Tommy,” Newt whined as they both climbed the last step to their floor.
“One plus the rate—”
“Oh no, looks like we’re at our classes,” Newt said.
“We’re not even halfway down the hallway,” Thomas said, teasing.
“Fuck you, maybe I just want a peaceful walk,” Newt said and was suddenly acutely aware that he hadn’t let go of Thomas since the stairs. In his defense, it was much easier to walk with Thomas’s support, but he usually didn’t need it. Thomas was sure to have noticed.
“...Wait,” Thomas said, and Newt knew he just had the same thought.
“Thomas—”
“Are you okay? Do you need to go to the nurse’s office? Or—”
“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” Newt assured as he untangled himself from Thomas’s arm. But naturally, his leg didn’t agree with this statement. As soon as he held his own weight again, the pain came back in full throttle, and Newt had to throw a hand out against the lockers to prevent himself from falling.
“Newt, what the fuck! Come on,” Thomas exclaimed, and he helped Newt to the stairs again. The halls and stairway were thinning to last-minute stragglers, so they didn’t need to worry about being trampled. The bell rang, and Newt tried to shove Thomas off.
“Get to class, you don’t want to fail your test.”
“And I don’t want you to be limping like crazy, but here we are,” Thomas shot back. “What the hell happened?”
Newt huffed and answered. “I told Mr. Janson I couldn’t do the gym activities, but I didn’t have a doctor’s note, so he made me do the lesson.”
“Wait, wasn’t—holy fuck, Newt, don’t tell me you actually did the Fitness Gram Pacer Test,” Thomas said, and Newt didn’t know if he’d actually seen Thomas this serious before. Sure, Thomas was serious about his grades, and he was serious about his track meets, but this was different.
“I mean… It’s 30% of our grade,” Newt defended and shrugged, and Thomas threw his hands up in the air.
“Why didn’t you just—”
“Tell you? What, so you could beat his ass and get suspended?”
“Now that you mention it…”
“Tommy, don’t you da—” but it was too late, as Thomas had already gotten up and started down the stairs. Newt stumbled after him, using the railing to carry half his weight. “Tommy! Motherfucker—Thomas, you better slow the fuck down.”
Thomas did slow down, but Newt suspected it was only because he didn’t want Newt to fall down the stairs. As Newt leaned against Thomas, he tried to convince Thomas to go back to class.
“Really, I’m fine, and honestly I’m sure he gets students trying to skip out on his classes all the time, so really it’s not his fault because I didn’t have a doctor’s note yet. And it already happened, so it’s not like we can reverse it, and I’m honestly alright with getting a ‘D’, it’s not like I’m too angry about it. Tommy, please don’t get yourself expelled, I’m not worth it, alright? And while we’re at it, how about you—”
They walked into the gymnasium much to the same effect. Newt was leaning against Thomas, talking his ear off and trying to talk Thomas to his senses. Thomas, on the other hand, was a man with a mission: Beat Janson’s Ass.
Thomas let Newt stand by himself against the doorframe, and he didn’t even bother knocking on Mr. Janson’s door. He just burst in, untroubled by the fact that apparently the principal was also in the room.
“Mr. Janson, we need to talk,” Thomas said, interrupting whatever Miss Paige had been saying.
“Mr. Green,” Miss Paige sputtered, “Now is not a good time—”
“Actually, right now is a perfect time, because I’m pissed the fuck off that you didn’t listen to my best friend, and now he’s paying for it.”
“Greenie, what are you even—” But then Mr. Janson saw Newt in the doorway. “What—him? The boy with the ‘injury’ that he even said was years old?”
“Mr. Janson, what is this about,” Miss Paige asked, confused.
“This young man, Newt, claimed he had an injury that was years old, yet somehow failed to provide a doctor’s note or any medical information about it. I figure, if it’s years old, then he either should have the note or it should be healed enough by now.”
“Well obviously it isn’t healed by now—” Thomas said, but Mr. Janson talked over him.
“And the boy did fine in class. He scored a little low, but if he had been telling the truth, I doubt he would have lasted even that long,” Mr. Janson said, and Thomas was visibly seething. Newt was just over how much bullshit Mr. Janson was spewing, just to save his own ass.
“Respectfully, Mr. Janson, I told you my predicament and you simply refused any answer that wasn’t me having a doctor’s note. I told you I have an appointment on Thursday, but you didn’t care, and now I can’t even walk to class without Thomas’s help,” Newt said, and Thomas glanced at him. He nodded in support, and Newt flushed, but only a little.
Mr. Janson sputtered and denied what Newt had said, but Miss Paige frowned. “Newt, what is your, er, predicament, as you call it?”
“I have an injury from a little over two and a half years ago. My leg was broken and never healed right, so I have a limp. I take medication for chronic pain, as well,” Newt added, and he could see Thomas’s eyes dart at him and back to Mr. Janson and Miss Paige. Thomas hadn’t known about the chronic pain, only his doctor and mum did. And maybe Sonya.
Mr. Janson pointed at Newt as if he’d caught him in a lie. “See, now you didn’t say that this morning!”
“Sorry for not disclosing my entire medical history to you, sir, but you didn’t exactly treat me with the respect I require to trust people with my information,” Newt snapped, and he saw Thomas’s lips twitch into a small grin.
“Alright, we’re going to settle this like adults. Thomas and Newt, if what you’re saying is true, then Mr. Janson and I will need to have a serious talk. Newt, I’m sorry, but are we able to see your injury?”
Newt sighed, annoyed, but he understood where they were coming from. He rolled up the leg of his trousers to show the scar ranging from his midcalf to the top of his knee. His knee looked swollen, and Newt quickly shoved the fabric back down.
“Is that good enough, or do you want a few jumping jacks as well,” Thomas snapped, and Newt touched his arm gently as if to say it’s fine.
Miss Paige pursed her lips. “I am sorry that this happened, Newt. I assure you, this won’t happen again to you or anyone else. You say your appointment is on Friday?”
“Thursday,” Newt corrected.
“For the time being, I will make sure the nurse writes you a temporary pass. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
“It was all Thomas, really,” Newt mumbled, and Thomas elbowed him in the side. Newt elbowed back.
“Well then, Mr. Green, thank you for standing up for your friend. Mr. Janson, we need to talk,” Miss Paige said, and Newt tugged on Thomas’s arm to pull him out of the office. Shit was about to go down, Newt could feel it, but sadly they weren’t about to see it.
“Wait—can we at least get some hall passes?” Thomas shouted through the door Newt had shut. Newt doubted they heard since as soon as the door shut, yelling from both parties inside had started instantly.
“I don’t think they heard you,” Newt joked, and Thomas sighed. They started their trek back to their classes, which were probably already ten minutes in.
Their walk was mostly silent until they parted ways for their respective classes. A simple, “meet me after school?” from Thomas was all Newt needed, and the rest of the day passed relatively quickly.
⚜⚜⚜
Thomas met Newt outside his last class, offering an arm without hesitation. Newt took it, grateful. He’d taken some ibuprofen, and Winston had gotten him some ice for the swelling, but his leg still hurt like a bitch.
Thomas, who owned a car and had a parking spot in the school’s car park— “it’s a parking lot.” “what the fuck is a ‘parking’ ‘lot’?”—drove Newt to Thomas’s place. Newt had texted Sonya saying he’d stay the evening at Thomas’s, and she just sent back a kissy emoji. Newt simply rolled his eyes and ignored it.
In the safety of Thomas’s house—Thomas’s parents were on a date night and nobody else was there to bother them—Newt and Thomas settled on Thomas’s bed.
“Were you really planning on just toughing out the rest of the day?” Thomas asked, breaking the silence.
Newt shrugged. “I mean, obviously it wasn’t ideal, but… you had a test and I didn’t want to make you distracted. Fat lot of good that did, though.”
“And you weren’t going to tell anyone? Not even the teachers, that Mr. Janson had basically like, tortured you for 45 minutes?”
“I only ran for about 10 or 15—”
“That’s still 10 or 15 minutes, Newt!” Thomas exclaimed, and Newt didn’t know how to respond.
“Why does this bother you so much? It’s just—”
“Don’t say ‘just’ like it’s ‘just’ an injury. It’s—it’s you .” Thomas stressed. Newt didn’t know what he meant, and apparently his face showed it, because Thomas went on to explain. “It’s not ‘just’ an injury, because it’s your injury. It’s not ‘just’ anything.”
“Literally what are you saying right now,” Newt asked. He thought he understood, but he needed to be sure. He couldn’t read into this, because if he did, he’d be fooling himself.
You’re not dating , Newt reminded himself.
“You’re you, you’re Newt , and Newt is everything,” Thomas said. “You’re my best friend, and I would do anything for you, and… when you don’t take care of yourself, then you’re not taking care of my best friend, and I take that personally, so I take care of him instead. Of you instead. Does that make any sense?”
“So… you’re annoyed I’m not taking care of myself? Because I’m your best friend?”
“Yes! Exactly,” Thomas said and sighed, clearly happy Newt understood.
“Oh,” Newt said. What else do you say when the boy you’re hard-core crushing on says you’re his best friend, and he wants to take care of you? Thanks, platonic best friend! I really appreciate that, bro!
“Oh,” Newt said again, failing to find the right words to respond. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. "Well, I appreciate it, Tommy. Really. But I guess I just didn’t want to, I dunno, bother you with my problems. I guess."
Thomas frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. "You’re not a bother, Newt. You never have been or ever will be. And I want to know what’s going on with you, if you’re willing to share it. Obviously not if it’s like, something you don’t want to share, but—”
“Can I tell you how I broke my leg?” Newt blurted. He didn’t really know what came over him, but he had an overwhelming sense that this was the right time. After the day he’d had, he needed to talk, and Thomas was right here, telling him that he wanted to know him and take care of him.
“Uh…” Thomas hesitated, “Sure, but not if you think you need to because of what I just said.”
“It’s not because of that. Well, it is a little, but I want to tell you.”
Thomas nodded, and Newt returned the action. Now all he needed to do was tell the story. Which he will do. Right now.
He totally wasn’t stalling. That would be ridiculous.
He wanted to tell Thomas, so why was it so hard?
“...are you sure you want to tell me?” Thomas asked, tentative.
Newt nodded. “I do, but it’s just. Hard to… start, I suppose.”
They sat in silence for a few more seconds, Thomas fidgeting with his blanket and Newt staring down at his hands in his lap.
“So I grew up in London, yeah? Just with my father, since my parents had divorced. I was young when it happened, and Sonya was only one or two. My mum took Sonya and moved here, to the States, but my father stayed in London with me.
“He got really distant, worked a lot of hours. I didn’t have many friends—none, in fact—so I would just… walk to school, be at school, then walk home and sit alone, in an empty house, for the rest of the day. And that’s what it was, for probably… fuck, probably close to nine or ten years.
“One day when I was 15, I got home from the last day of school, and my father was still at work. I hadn’t seen him in three days, and hadn’t had a proper conversation with him in over a week. I guess… I just decided if this was what my life was going to be like, then I didn’t want it.
“Like I said, I didn’t have any friends, my mum never answered my texts, and my father didn’t care about me. So I climbed to the top of our house and jumped.
“I guess it wasn’t tall enough, because next thing I know, I’m in the hospital and the doctors are telling me I’ve got a broken leg. I had a few of them joke about me being too adventurous for my own good and figured out they thought it was just an accident, and I never corrected them.
“Then last year my father asked if I wanted to move here, and I figured anything was better than being there. I met you and the rest of the gang. I haven’t… I only ever told my doctor, the one here in the States, the truth. He told my mum, since it’s the law or whatever. And now…”
“Now you told me,” said Thomas. He hadn’t interrupted, which Newt was grateful for. He didn’t know if he could tell the full story if Thomas had kept interrupting. He probably would have lost his nerve.
“Yeah,” Newt said. “I um. I haven’t thought about, er, doing it, since I moved. You don’t need to worry about me.”
Thomas nodded. He looked like he was trying to choose his words carefully. “So, the chronic pain, is that from your leg as well, or…?”
“Yeah, that’s my leg. Bloody thing loves being the center of attention,” Newt tried to joke, but it fell flat. He switched his tone to serious. “But yes, it’s just the leg. It comes and goes. Some days I think it’s gone, but some days it’s unbearable. I have the medication, and that helps.”
“If there’s anything I can do—”
“No, Thomas, don’t start,” Newt interrupted. “Don’t start treating me like I’m something broken. Just treat me like normal, please,” he asked. Maybe it had been a mistake, telling him. Maybe he’d unloaded everything much too soon—what was he thinking? They’d only known each other a year, for fuck’s sake.
“No! I mean, like, would a massage help? More ice? I know you’ve got your meds, but would Tylenol do anything?”
Newt stared into Thomas’s eyes, who stared right back. Newt expected Thomas to break, to say it was silly and to forget it, but he didn’t. So Newt spoke first.
“I… suppose, maybe, a massage would feel nice,” he said slowly, and Thomas’s shoulders fell from released tension.
“Thank god, sorry, I don’t want to overstep or make a fool of myself so I’m sorry if this is stupid,” Thomas rambled. Newt smiled fondly and laid his leg in Thomas’s lap. “And sorry if I do anything wrong, I’ve never massaged someone’s leg before. Or massaged anything, for that matter.”
⚜⚜⚜
The next day, Newt’s leg was still throbbing. It felt considerably better than yesterday, but still worse than a normal day.
As soon as Newt saw Thomas, he knew Thomas knew. Thomas didn’t make a fuss out of it, thankfully. He just offered Newt an arm, like he had yesterday, and Newt accepted.
The day went on normally. Mr. Janson was suspiciously absent and a sub was in his place, and before he knew it, it was the end of the day.
Thomas had a track meet, so Newt would usually take the bus home, but today he decided to stay and watch Thomas run.
“So what happened yesterday?”
Newt jumped, not having heard Minho behind him. “What do you mean? Nothing,” Newt said. Unless Thomas or one of the teachers had said something, then Minho shouldn’t have known about what happened yesterday. Right?
“I mean, what did you say to make Thomas suddenly realize he’s been in love with you?”
Newt’s brain short-circuited.
“Fuck,” Minho cursed, then, “He didn’t tell you? Shit! It was so obvious, I thought he told you already, I thought you already knew! Shit shit shit!”
“What do you mean? Thomas isn’t—he doesn’t?” Newt said, and he wondered if this was what being in shock felt like. (He didn’t feel like making a joke about how last time he went into shock, he was unconscious and therefore didn’t know.)
“Forget I said anything, please don’t tell Thomas I said anything, oh my god he’s going to kill me ,” Minho stressed, and Newt nodded numbly. Minho walked away at a whistle blowing, and Newt watched as Thomas ran up beside Minho. Minho visibly jumped, but Thomas didn’t seem to notice and… acted completely normal.
Minho probably didn’t know what he was talking about. Thomas was just affectionate, and maybe sometimes that meant Newt didn’t know if they were dating or not, but Thomas…
First off, Newt was pretty sure Thomas was straight. He wasn’t even on the menu to begin with. And if Thomas wasn’t straight, then… well.
Second, if Thomas wasn’t straight, say bisexual or gay or anything in between, there’s no way he’d choose Newt. He could have anyone he wanted, for fuck’s sake. And why hadn’t he said anything before? Not that Thomas owed him anything, but if he wasn’t straight, and he was interested in Newt, then why not say anything?
And thirdly… Newt couldn’t come up with any other excuse other than it’s Thomas. He’s just like that, with everyone. He hugs everyone, gives incredibly thoughtful gifts to everyone, and Newt hasn’t seen him cuddle with anyone else but he’s sure it happens. Same with forehead kisses. He takes care of his friends, and that didn’t just qualify for Newt. He was just another one of Thomas’s friends, and Thomas does anything for his friends.
And Newt is sure that if anyone else asked, Thomas would massage their knee as well. It was totally, completely, not just a Newt thing.
⚜⚜⚜
After the meet, Newt had fully prepared himself to make a fool of himself, lose a best friend, and possibly gain a boyfriend by the end of the night.
“Newt! You stuck around for the meet?” Thomas asked, jogging up to where Newt had been sitting on the bleachers overlooking the track.
“Yeah, didn’t feel like taking the bus I suppose,” he said, and Thomas grinned. Newt held his arms out all the way, preventing Thomas from hugging him. “No hugs until you’re completely showered, you smell gross.”
Thomas laughed and left for the locker rooms to change and hopefully take a shower. Newt slowly made his way to the front of the locker rooms, where there were some benches and he could wait for Thomas to get out.
⚜⚜⚜
They drove to Thomas’s house again, having dinner with Thomas’s parents and moving to Thomas’s room afterward. Newt had been over enough times that Thomas’s parents knew Newt well enough for it to not be awkward, so the dinner went smoothly.
In Thomas’s room, however, it was a different story. Minho’s words turned over and over in his head, what did you say to make Thomas suddenly realize he’s been in love with you? He’s been in love with you? He’s in love with you? He’s in love with you? He’s in love with you? He’s—
“How’s your leg? Feeling any better?” Thomas asked when they settled on his bed. “Need another massage?”
“Are you in love with me?”
What the fuck.
That is not how he meant to start this conversation.
But Thomas had just opened his mouth, and Newt had just needed to know, so that the next time Thomas opened his mouth, Newt knew if he was allowed to shut him up with a kiss.
“Wh—what? What? What?” Thomas’s voice got higher with each ‘what?’ and Newt stood from the bed. He wanted to start pacing, but his leg was still aching, so he instead just motioned wildly with his hands.
“I mean, you act like we’re dating. But that’s also just a you thing. You hug everyone, you care about everyone so deeply, and I’m pretty sure forehead kisses and cuddles aren’t just a ‘Newt Exclusive’. But then today Minho—and please don’t kill him—he told me you’re in love with me? And we both know Minho is oblivious, so if he can see it, then it needs to be true, but I don’t even know if you like guys! So I’m at a complete loss, because I sure as fuck am in love with you, but you’re just so perfectly you that I can’t tell if you love me back.”
When Newt finished, Thomas opened and closed his mouth a few times.
“I… I’m bisexual, by the way,” Thomas croaked. He then stared at Newt.
“Oh. Um, congratulations,” Newt said, desperate for Thomas to say literally anything else. Just to say something.
“And I don’t think I really knew until yesterday.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want me to kiss you?”
“If you don’t mind.”
Newt happily obliged. He sat on the bed next to Thomas and kissed him. It was hesitant, Thomas clearly unsure what to do. This was probably his first kiss with another boy, maybe even his first kiss ever. It was still perfect, however, because it was a kiss with Thomas.
They broke apart and rested their foreheads against each other’s. Newt grinned.
“What the fuck kind of answer is, ‘if you don’t mind’ ?”
“Oh, my bad for coming to terms with my sexuality in less than 24 hours just so that I could kiss you. My fucking bad.”
⚜⚜⚜
“So what was it that made you realize?”
“After you left, at like 10 pm, I thought over the day and I guess I just thought you were really hot when you were sassing off Mr. Janson.”
“ That is what did it for you?”
“What can I say? Sass is an attractive quality.”