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Newt glanced at his watch for the fifth time that minute. They were still ten miles away from the airport, and he wasn’t going to make it.
He had a performance to give at the local elementary school that night because his little sister Sonya was staring the show, singing All I Want For Christmas Is You with her angelic voice, and Newt was her drummer. Newt enjoys drumming, body swaying to the rhythm, head nodding to the beat, long, slender fingers gripping the drumsticks just right. Except tonight, he was slightly annoyed. Not that he doesn’t want to help Sonya-- don’t get me wrong, he loves his little sister to death-- it was that Christmas day just happened to be the day Thomas flew back to America.
Tommy had sounded fairly disappointed when Newt delivered the unfortunate news of not being able to see him off. At least, Newt hoped that Tommy was disappointed. Because of course, with Newt’s sheer dumb luck, he had to fall for his best friend. He had, indeed, already mustered up all his courage in deciding that he would confess his feelings on Christmas because, well, on Christmas you tell the truth and apparently, love is all around you. So the song says. Not being able to see Tommy off cancelled any plan of telling him.
So why was he on route to the airport half an hour before Tommy boards? Because he was bloody inspired. Inspired by their Prime Minister and his secretary--now girlfriend--who miraculously and sort of confusingly appeared at the end of the show, kissing under the big Merry Christmas sign, oblivious to the audience until a wave of applause and wolf-whistles brought them back to earth. How that happened, Newt had absolutely no bloody idea, though it may or may not have something to with his stepfather being a good friend of the Prime Minister’s sister, but, that’s not important. The point is that if the bloody Prime Minister was brave enough to accept his feelings in front of a crowd, he could too. Maybe plus the fact that if he failed today he could have two months to recover.
Finally, finally, they arrive at the airport. He could see the shining lights of airplanes coming and going, bright against the night sky like shooting stars. He desperately hoped that Tommy wasn’t on one of them already.
He rushed into the gates, searching frantically for his best friend’s (crush’s) figure. There was no sign of him at the check-in desk. As Newt looked around, he saw with a sinking feeling in his stomach that a familiar brunette had just turned the corner--beyond security--where Newt couldn’t go without a boarding pass.
This was typical Newt’s luck but maybe, just that day, and only on Christmas, some kind of supernatural force decided to help him out. A tall man with a permanent scowling expression and eyebrows arched so high it almost touched his hairline stepped to the gate, was asked for some sort of documentation?--Newt wasn’t so sure--and began piling his stuff into the guard’s arms in order to find it, grumbling under his breath the whole time.
Newt seized his chance and ducked, using the man’s bigger build to hide him, and slipped past the gate. Once he was in, he started sprinting. Past protesting travellers, past security, ignoring the shouts behind him, leapt over a low glass gate and right before Thomas’s stretched out hand gave the smiling lady his ticket, he managed to breathe, “Tommy.”
Thomas turned around and upon seeing who it was, his eyes grew wide with shock and his face broke into a smile as brilliant as the sun.
“Newt!” He exclaimed, “I thought you couldn’t make it. How in the world did you get in here?”
“Never mind that now, Tommy,” Newt said, still panting, “I have to tell you--”
But at that moment, the security guards finally caught up to him and started to escort him out. Thomas quickly latched on to his arm and suddenly he was so close, too close, their faces inches apart. Newt faltered at that, this was not how he had hoped it would go down. Thomas’s tone became slightly more urgent, “What? Tell me what? Please, I don’t want to spend two months by myself not knowing.”
His mind completely blank, and because it was Christmas, and on Christmas you tell the truth, and because Tommy’s eyes were so intoxicating, hoping with all his heart that love was indeed all around, he blurted out three words, eight letters.
“I love you.”
He saw Tommy’s eyes grew wide, felt the grip on his arm slacken, and knew that it was all over. Tommy didn’t love him back, at least not in the way he wanted. He allowed himself to be pulled back by the guards and said through a sad smile, “It looks as though I have to run. Goodbye, Tommy.”
He walked past the gate and just stood there, staring at the terminal full of people, wondering what he was going to do with himself in the upcoming month, or worse, when Tommy came back.
Just when he let out a defeated sigh and decided to go home first, maybe bake some cookies with Sonya, he felt a tap on his shoulder. When he turned around, it was his turn to be surprised.
Thomas was standing there, eyes bright, smile wide and he was glowing. It was the most beautiful sight Newt had ever seen. Before Newt could register what was happening, Thomas cupped Newt’s cheek with both his hands, leaned forwards and crushed their lips together.
It took Newt half a second to catch up on what was happening, but when he did, he melted. His arms snaked around Tommy’s neck and into his hair, pulling him as close as possible, at the same time strong arms wrapped around his waist and embraced him so tight he almost couldn’t breathe--if he wasn’t already drowning in the kiss in the first place.
After who knows how long-- seconds, minutes, all night, a few sunlit days-- they broke apart. Thomas pressed his forehead against Newt’s and slowly opened his eyes, so full of emotion they made Newt’s breath hitch.
“I love you too.”
Newt flung his arms around Thomas’s neck again and buried his face into the crook of Tommy’s neck, heart so full he thought it would burst. He relished the feeling of Tommy’s arms around his back, one on his waist and one hand gripping his shoulder tightly. He had never felt so warm and content.
“Will passenger Thomas Greene please proceed to Gate A2 immediately, your flight is about to take off.” The broadcast suddenly announced.
Thomas pulled back from Newt and sighed exasperatedly, though still smiling. “Looks like I’ve got to go.” He said softly. Newt smiled gently, “Better go home now, Tommy.”
“I’ll see you when I get back, yeah?” Thomas asked.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Newt laughed.
Thomas gave him one last kiss and left, looking back every three steps, and disappeared once again beyond the security check.
Newt turned around, positively radiating happiness. And when the night show host on TV announced the annual best-selling album, he couldn’t help but agree.
Love is indeed all around.