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The air was warm during this month of August, but if many people were enjoying their holidays, others simply kept working. It was the case of Alby’s little crew from What Would You Do TV show and the actors were reading their scripts before heading to their filming set. Newt raised an eyebrow:
“A restaurant? Again?”
“Yup.” Alby smiled.
“Er... Right. I feel a bit uncomfortable filming with you guys in a restaurant now, no offense.” The blonde smirked.
“Don’t worry.” Teresa smiled. “We will be around in case of.”
The Brit nodded, a bit sceptical as vivid images came back to his mind: the last time, they were in a restaurant filming the reaction of people to gay public demonstration of affection when three men had chosen to attack them. He remembered the violent fear he had felt as one of them had pinned him on a table and pressed his crotch against his. At that time, he had grabbed a knife but the guy had been knocked out before he had to stab him. Which had been a relief but he often wondered what could have happened if they hadn’t reacted quickly enough. What if he had stabbed that guy? Or if that guy had raped him? An icy chill ran down his spine at the thought. But he also remembered something else, something to do with his partner on the set...
“So today’s plot is: a young adult meeting his parents in a restaurant in order to come out of the closet and present them his lover.” Alby explained. “So we are going to make two teams: one with Teresa and Harriet as our lesbian couple, and the other with Newt and Thomas as our gay one. The parents will be Janson and Mary.”
“I thought Thomas didn’t want to work with us anymore...” Teresa frowned, giving Newt a side glance.
The Brit gulped as he felt an incredible pressure on his neck and in his chest. Guilt. It was guilt. Thomas had opened up to him after the restaurant scandal and Newt could still hear his voice in his head, his words:
"I... Never asked myself if I could like guys. It never occurred to me. But... But maybe I could be bi... I mean, just for you. If I told you that... What would you do, Newt?"
He remembered it vividly. Just as much as he remembered the pained look of those honey coloured eyes when he had told him that he already had someone. It wasn’t true and it had embarrassed Thomas who had awkwardly laughed and said that it wasn’t surprising. They hadn’t spoken much after that that day, and the day after Newt had been informed that the brunette wouldn’t be working with them anymore. It had been like a slap but he had asked for it when lying to Thomas, right? Why had he lied for? Out of fear, he guessed: he had quickly come to like the guy in one day time, without knowing him properly at all... He had felt attached so quickly. He just couldn’t say yes to him. He wasn’t a gay-try for heterosexuals. He didn’t want to get hurt, and judging just by how he had felt when Alby had told him Thomas was off... He would have been hurt. Too quickly and too deeply attached. Alby’s voice took him out of his reverie:
“He had some stuff on his own. But he’s willing to come back now.”
“Some stuff?” Teresa repeated, frowning. “He has been away for months! Not even answering messages or calls.”
“Well, that would be his business, T.” Their team director cut in. “Now, let’s get moving. Thomas will meet us there along with Jorge.”
Newt and Teresa exchanged a glance but didn’t argue and followed, walking to the vans that would bring them on their new set. Harriet sat with them, watching them with curious eyes: she hasn’t been in the team for very long and hadn’t met Thomas. She knew nothing about all of this.
“What’s the big deal with that Thomas guy? You guys look like you don’t want to see him.”
“I do. And I’ll slap this face of his.” The brunette girl replied, crossing her arms with a scowl.
“Why’s that?” Harriet rose an eyebrow.
“Well... He asked our Newt out. Newt declined and so Thomas ran away, not giving any news or answering any message.” Teresa spilled it out.
The Brit felt his stomach tightening and preferred to look by the windows, feeling the eyes of the new actress of their team on him. It sounded so much worse now it came from Teresa’s mouth. It was his fault... And now he had to face Thomas again. How could this get even worse? He sighed and focused on the city passing by the window so the girls would let him out of their conversation. Questions already filled his mind and each second was making his guilt and panic worse: why had Thomas suddenly decided to come back? How should he act with him? And how would the brunette behave with him? What if he was so angry it would make the filming a real trial?
Newt closed his eyes and breathed. He had to calm down. He was a professional, he would play his role the entire day and that was it. It was simple. His heart was pounding fiercely as his mind tried to shush it and to reason it. But as soon as the restaurant came into view, his heart jumped and raced painfully as if it wanted to tear his rib cage apart. A touch on his thigh made him jumped and he found Teresa’s hand gently pressing on his thigh. She smiled sympathetically:
“It will be okay.”
“Yeah, right...” The blonde mumbled and felt sick as the car pulled into a halt.
Alby got out of the car and began to speak with someone a bit further. Newt felt his throat tightening as he recognized Thomas’ voice answering. He would recognize it anywhere, even amongst dozens, hundreds. The lateral door of the van opened on a smiling Jorge, his eternal cigarette between his lips:
“Hi everyone.”
“Hello Jorge!” Teresa exclaimed joyfully.
“Hi.” Harriet murmured with a smile.
Newt inhaled and got up, offering a forced smile and a handshake to the director of the field crew. Their gazes met and the blonde frowned slightly: was it concern he saw in the man’s eyes? A warning maybe? But what for? He wanted to ask but Alby was already back with Thomas to present him the new ones in the crew. And as Newt looked away from Jorge, it hit him. Thomas was standing there, a few meters from him, only looking like the ghost of himself: he had gaunt features, with hollow cheeks, and he had visibly lost twenty or so pounds. He looked so tired...
Their eyes met and Newt couldn’t bring himself to move for how much he was shocked. What had happened to him? It couldn’t be only because he had rejected him, right? A sudden wave of guilt submerged him once again. And the smile Thomas offered him didn’t help at all. Even Teresa had stayed silent at his sight. Questions even stopped flooding in his mind at some point, his brain only registering that the brunette came closer, his tired smile still there:
“Hey Newt. It’s been a while...”
Even his voice seemed tired. The blonde stayed dumbfounded, mouth half opened, incapable of saying one word. His heart was wrecked at the sight of the guy that had once been his colleague and almost friend. Almost because he hadn’t really had the chance to spend time with the brunette after the restaurant scandal episode. At the Brit’s silence, Thomas simply smiled and murmured:
“It’s nice to see you again. Now, excuse me, I’m gonna give the make-up artist a hell of a job.”
Out of words, Newt simply nodded, letting the brunette walk away. He was feeling light-headed as if needing air to breath. As soon as Thomas was no longer in sight, Newt sat in the van, breathing heavily as if hyperventilating. Teresa came instantaneously at his side, kneeling on the ground to be able to catch his gaze:
“Newt. Newt, come on, breathe.”
“It’s my fault...” The blonde whispered, the voice trembling.
“No, it’s not.” The blue eyed girl countered. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t know.”
“I did this to him.” Newt whined, his eyes watering. “T, I am the one who hurt him that much!”
Teresa wanted to deny, to tell him he was wrong. But could she? Thomas had disappeared from their life the day after Newt had rejected him. Could the blonde had had so much power on the brunette? She pinched her lips and gently brushed the fair strands of her friend.
“It’s okay, Newt. He’s in bad shape but he’s back so... If you feel that bad, you can just go and apologize... If it makes you feel better...”
The Brit didn’t know. He slightly shook his head and breathed deeply in order to calm down. He had to handle this. He had a job to do and he couldn’t let his emotions get in the way. He would work normally and talk to Thomas after their work. He stayed in the van for long minutes, calming down and getting himself together. He would not let his emotions tear apart the hard work of everyone. He had been used to hide his feelings for years so after a few minutes, he could be his usual self again: discreet and smiling.
Thomas came back fifteen minutes later, make-up seeming to do wonders on him: he didn’t look tired anymore, at least if you didn’t know him. So it would do it for the show. Alby decided to begin with the two of them, then it would be Harriet and Teresa’s turn to play the couple. Newt felt anxiety crashing his stomach but he just focused on the instant, pushing away the sick feeling. Mary and Janson went in the restaurant first, the scenario being for them to wait for Newt a few minutes and then Thomas to appear as his boyfriend.
“Funny déjà-vu feeling, right?” The brunette chuckled at his side.
“Yeah, don’t tell me...” The Brit muttered, tensed.
“I hope they are ready to intervene this time.” Thomas smiled.
“Yeah...” The blonde breathed deeply. “I wasn’t very fond of last time either.”
“Well, it was a bit extreme, but now I laugh about it. Don’t you?” The American asked, still smiling.
“I...” What could he say? What could he answer to that?
“Newt, it’s your turn.” Alby called in his earpiece.
Newt walked just as if he was a bullet out of a gun. His heart was pounding in his chest hard and fast. God, this day would be long and difficult. He breathed in and out to calm down again and repeated the scenario in his head like a tantrum, his character’s description. He was supposed to be a young man announcing to his parents that he was gay and present them his boyfriend. So it was okay for him to be tensed and nervous, which was a good thing.
He entered in the restaurant. It was lunchtime and it was pretty crowded. He looked around, searching his parents of the day and spotted them at a round table in the middle of the big crowded room. Of course, where else? The waitress came to him with a smile, knowing that he was an actor but acting just like she would have with any other customer:
“Hi, my name is Sonya, welcome to the Glade’s factory. How can I help you, Sir?”
“Hi. Thanks but my parents are waiting for me, just there.” Newt explained, pointing at the table.
“Sure, please take a sit. I’ll bring you the menu right away.” The waitress smiled.
The blonde nodded and walked to the table, the heart pounding as his mind kept picturing Thomas. How much his cheeks had hollow. How exhausted he looked. But he pushed it away in a corner of his mind: he was supposed to be nervous but happy and excited. So he just had to pretend, it was his job after all. He smiled widely as he saluted his fake parents:
“Mom, dad, hi!”
“Oh, Thomas! Sweetheart, how are you?” Mary exclaimed.
Seriously? Couldn’t they come with another name? He wanted to punch Alby to death, since the idea was probably his, but he just kept smiling, hugging his fake mother and kissing her on the cheek, before hugging his fake father. Janson patted his back and invited him to sit with them, which he did. Mary took upon herself to start the conversation:
“So... Today is a big day, isn’t it? I can’t wait to meet your special one!”
“Finally!” Janson agreed, raising his glass like cheering. “I want to meet the pretty one who made you smile like this for the past three months. I’m sure she’s a sight to see.”
Newt made his smile tremble and bit his bottom lip, managing to fidget a little as he looked at them in concern. In the corner of his vision, he had spotted an old woman looking at them and smiling. So they already had an audience, but he couldn’t look around yet, he had to seem focused on his parents. He nervously smiled:
“Yeah, well... Er...I have to tell you something about that special one...”
“What? Are you afraid we don’t like her?” Janson raised an eyebrow. “Come on, son.”
“Oh, Thomas, don’t worry: we won’t judge her.” Mary brightly smiled, patting his arm in a comfort gesture. “As long as you’re happy, it’s enough.”
“Well, I...”
“Hey, Thomas!” A voice called from the entrance.
The actual Thomas came, his smile bright, a little shy even. His honey eyes were sparkling as if Newt was the world to him. As if nothing around counted more than him. The blonde’s heart missed a beat and it was enough to give him the sensation he suffocated. He needed all his will to smile back happily and get up to hug the brunette. They parted slightly and Thomas stole him a quick little kiss on the lips. Just a peck. But it was enough to annihilate any thought in the Brit’s mind.
“Thomas... Can you explain that...?” Janson coldly blurted when nothing came from the blonde.
“Oh, er...” Newt’s brain cells had never worked that fast to catch up with something. “Mom, dad. This is Dylan. He’s my special one... And he’s making me very happy.”
There was a dead silence at their table. Janson and Mary managing to perfectly impersonate incredulity, disgust and hurt. Newt would have felt a pang in his chest if he didn’t knew they were only actors. He was amazed to see all the different changes appearing one by one as Janson's face turned into a mask of pure anger. His voice rose with so much disdain it was stunning:
“A guy, Thomas?”
“Honey... Sweetheart...” Mary joylessly huffed a small laughed. “It’s a... It’s not a good joke to make, you know?”
“What joke?” Newt frowned, grabbing Thomas’ waist and pulling him closer to him, feeling an electric chill run through his entire body. “That’s Dylan, my boyfriend. He’s the one I wanted to present you.”
“You must be kidding me...!” Janson was looking like about to explode and violently slammed his hand on the table, making everyone jump. “I AM NOT HAVING THIS!”
A deafening silence suddenly took place in the room. Well, if they wanted an audience, they had it. Newt looked frantically around, as if victim of a huge stress and made Thomas to sit on one of the chairs as he sat on the last empty chair of their table. He spoke low but loud enough to be heard, like a stressed whisper that wouldn’t be discreet at all in such circumstances:
“Dad...! You can’t scream like that in a restaurant!”
“And who made me?” Janson spat. “Listen here, boy. Listen carefully! My son is not gay! I am not having a gay son!”
The usual chattering hadn’t restarted, everyone looking at them. Many in concern, which was a good start. Thomas was rigid on his chair, as if wondering if he preferred to disappear or to bury himself far away under the ground. Newt tried to countered, whisper shouting as much as he could:
“Dad!”
“Thomas... Why are you doing this to us?” Mary seemed to be about to cry, looking at him in real betrayal. “I... I didn’t raise you like that.”
“Well, excuse me but being gay has nothing to do with how you’re raised and-“ Thomas tried to intervene.
“You, shut up!!” Janson shouted before continuing in an angry and dangerous voice. “How did you manage to turn my son into a faggot, that I don’t know. But listen to me: THIS is not happening. You sick freaks will rot in hell, you hear me? You’re a disgrace, an infection of our society.”
“Dad!” Newt exclaimed indignantly, louder this time.
The man got up of his chair, providing another angry homophobic insult as he stormed out. Mary shook her head and rose too. It must be a scene to watch, judging by the uncomfortable tensed silence in the room. Newt added some tragedy in his voice as he stood up:
“Mom...!”
“I never thought I’d say one day that you disappointed me, Thomas...” She looked at him with sad yet angry eyes. “You lied to us... Letting us assume you were happy with a girl and then... This? Your father is right: we’re not having this. I don’t have any gay son. Not now, not ever.”
And she turned her heels, heading to the door. Newt called one last time for her, his voice willingly breaking in the process as he looked beaten. He was staring at the door with wide horrified eyes, his breath uneven, trembling. His eyes darted all around them, looking to the people. Many stares fled his gaze, but others seemed compassionate, supportive. He shook his head, with a ravaged breath, almost jumping as Thomas grabbed his arm:
“Thomas...” The brunette murmured.
“No.” Newt got rid of his grip with a simple gesture. “I... I’m sorry, Dylan... I can’t...”
“Thomas, what are you saying?” The American got up, visibly stressed.
“I’m sorry, Dylan.” Newt kept repeating, almost sobbing. “I... We were wrong. I’m sorry.”
And with that, he tried to dash to the exit, leaving Thomas behind. But suddenly, a firm grip on his arm stopped him, making him look behind with shocked eyes. It was a woman, around mid-thirties, she looked stout with black hair kept in a tight bun. She gave him a sympathetic glance and shook her head:
“Don’t run away. Come on. We’re gonna talk, okay?”
She didn’t waited for his agreement and got up, leaving her table and family in order to lead him back to his table, to Thomas. She made him sit aside of his supposed boyfriend and took a chair in front of them, Janson’s place. Her dark eyes studied them for a second, but she didn’t let go of Newt’s arm, now gently patting it:
“Hi, my name is Lana. Listen, I know it’s none of my business but...” She looked at the Brit. “Don’t run away, honey. You don’t want that. What your parents said, excuse me, but it’s bullshit. No parent should say that to their kid or anyone’s kid.”
“I don’t know...” Newt whispered. “I mean... We must have done something wrong...”
“No, you did nothing wrong.” Lana insisted. “Well, maybe this place wasn’t the best to come out, but... Don’t think like that okay? There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Yeah, it’s who you are.” A woman spoke then, a table aside on their right. “And no one should hurt you or judge you because of who you are. Not even your parents. Especially not them. It’s not right.”
“You know, being a parent is pretty tough.” Lana gently smiled. “They are confused and scared... Because they care about you. They don’t realise how hateful they sounded. They love you. They will come around eventually. But that doesn’t mean you have to change or to break up with your boyfriend.”
Her voice was soft and warm. The blonde almost felt like curling himself in her arms. She looked like a fierce yet loving protector. She smiled and extended her hand to Newt’s cheek, making him realise the moisture: he had cried without even noticing. Thomas and Newt suddenly felt strong arms around their shoulders as a man had come nearer and hold them in both arms: he looked in his late forties, with bulk shoulders and a haircut that seemed to come directly from the army. He had a toothpick at the corner of his lips as he spoke:
“She’s damn right, kids. I don’t get gays or stuff like that but I’ll tell you what: you live for yourself, and yourself only. You can’t just throw away what makes you happy just because your folks don’t like it.”
“I agree.” Lana nodded, just like many other people around the room.
“But they are my parents... I owe them my life, I can’t just be selfish...” New tried.
“Hey kiddo, your folks must be nice people, I get that. I mean... They’re your parents, right?” The man interjected. “But even if they disagree, in the end, it’s your life and your choices. You’re the only one who can decide to be happy.”
The Brit stayed silent at that, looking at the man with wide fascinated eyes. It was an easy expression to fake, even if his and Lana’s words touched him a bit. He hadn’t expected people to react that much. He slightly bit his bottom lip and nodded, showing to them that he understood what they meant, but he jumped when feeling a hand in his own. Looking at it, he saw Thomas’ hand holding his. The brunette offered him a tender smile, his honey eyes so loving Newt almost felt a caress on his skin, making him shiver.
“They are right, Thomas.” He said gently to Newt. “You’re the only one who can decide that... But I won’t give up that easily, just so you know.”
“Dylan...” The blonde stared at him with concern.
“Because I love you, Thomas. I always will.” The brunette’s smile widened. “So would you continue with me? Or will I have to fight for you?”
God, it was cheesy. But people around them seemed to love it and applauded as Newt shyly smiled and nodded. He leant in and nestle is face into Thomas’ neck. It was warm and soft, a lovely sensation. The American’s scent awakening memories in his mind: the last time they had stand that close, Thomas had just fought for him, saving him from one of the men who had attacked them on their last set together. His heart had been thundering, just like now. And Thomas had said those words that haunted his mind:
"I... Never asked myself if I could like guys. It never occurred to me. But... But maybe I could be bi... I mean, just for you. If I told you that... What would you do, Newt?"
The realisation screams torn him out of his reverie as his eyes spotted Alby entering in the room and beginning his interviews. Newt stayed a few more seconds than necessary against his co-actor, wanting to get out of the room but not quite managing to persuade is body to do so. As he slightly began to move, he felt two hands pushing him forward and looked at Thomas who had pushed him gently aside in order to get up and leave the room. He walked slowly through the room, passing through without any problem, as if no one could really see him.
The sight of his back drawing away awoke a strange feeling in Newt. Disagreeable and ill. He gulped and got up, only to be congratulated by a vivid Lana saying she was really impressed for she really had believed in their roles and that they were really good actors. The blonde awkwardly thanked her before trying once again to leave, but it was only to meet the man who had spoken to them: his name was Alec, and his handshake was firm and almost too tight. He was laughing and patting a bit too hard Newt’s shoulder. The Brit played along and needed several minutes to get out of the restaurant, sighing heavily as the fresh air finally got to his lungs. A soft laugh caught his attention: on his left, leant against the wall, Thomas smiled:
“And me wondering if I’d have to go in there to extricate you.”
“Thomas...” Newt murmured.
“Hm, it’s almost strange to hear you call me Thomas after this.” The brunette smirked. “And it was even stranger to call you by my name. Tricky.”
He drawn away of the wall and walked to the van in which Newt had come on the set, meeting Harriet and Teresa who were waiting their turn to go in the restaurant. They would have probably to wait half an hour or so for the actual customers to leave the restaurant. The Brit watched as the boy happily talked to the girls. It looked like memories... Except that Harriet hadn’t been there with them before... Somehow, the sight saddened him. Why? He wondered. He sighed and decided to walk away, somewhere else. He needed to think in some peaceful place. He crossed the parking lot and sat against the wall of the restaurant, in a small alley between the restaurant and the building aside.
His thoughts were confused and his brain kept providing him pictures of the brunette now and then... He had lost so much weight. And seemed so tired... But yet he hadn’t detected any anger or resentment in those honey coloured eyes. As if Thomas wasn’t at all angry at him for what had happened a few months before... Newt brought his knees against his chest, wrapping his arms around, as guilt crushed him a bit more. He should feel relieved that Thomas didn’t hate him... But somehow, it was worse to see his gentle smile. How would things have turned out if he hadn’t rejected him? He sighed and pressed his face against his knees, closing his eyes against the fabric of his jeans. Perhaps was he simply afraid to talk to Thomas? Or was it those shivers he had felt when kissing him earlier? Was it what was disturbing him? He didn’t know and preferred to stay away a bit.
He didn’t need Teresa’s concern glances. Or any remark from the staff. No... He just wanted the day to be over and to be back in his flat where he wouldn’t have to face that guy he had hurt more than he could have ever imagined. His voice was a small cracked whisper when he murmured:
“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...”
“You shouldn’t be.” Thomas’ voice came nearby, making him jump.
“The shuck...!” Newt exclaimed, watching as the brunette sat at his side. “You almost killed me from a heart attack, you slinthead!”
“Sorry.” The American laughed, visibly not sorry at all. “Harriet and Teresa are filming now. I was wondering where you had gone.”
The blonde opened his mouth to answer but nothing came. He pinched his lips and looked away, feeling more and more uncomfortable. But Thomas didn’t seem at all affected by the Brit’s gloomy vibes and actually kept smiling:
“So... What have you been up to lately? It’s been a while.”
“Nothing much...” Newt mumbled.
“Oh, really?” Thomas nodded simply. “I travelled.”
“Oh yeah?” The Brit couldn’t help but answering a bit sarcastically. “No wonder you didn’t answered Teresa’s messages.”
“I’ve been to the West Coast.” The brunette continue, without raising the blonde’s comment. “In Florida. It was warm and beautiful. No wonder so many people love to live there... The weather was perfect.”
It was a normal chatting, but somehow Newt felt something different, as if hearing something that bothered him. He frowned and looked sideways at his colleague: Thomas was looking at the wall in front of them, his eyes not really focusing as he looked terribly sad. The first thought that went through the blonde’s mind was that this sight was wrong. Thomas didn’t have a face made to express sadness. He was meant to smile and laugh, to joke and smirk. Newt wanted to ask but the brunette didn’t let him:
“It was a good thing. I think I would definitely have cried if it had been raining...” His fingers played mechanically with little rocks at his feet. “But it was a perfect day for funerals.”
The last word fell like a sword in Newt’s brain. Funerals? He blinked several times, unable to process quickly the words he had heard. Thomas had travelled to Florida to go to funerals? But...
“Whom...?” His mouth managed to voice out.
“My mother.” The brunette replied with a sad smile, leaning the back of his head against the wall. “She died the night of that day, you know? The night after we filmed our last show together. I hadn’t given news since a few weeks... Too busy to write a message or give a call... Always thinking I could do it later or the day after.”
His voice was a sad melody, dripping with pain and sadness. Newt couldn’t look away, hypnotized. He wanted to hug him, to comfort him. And in the same time, he didn’t dare to move a muscle. It was as if Thomas needed to speak without interruption. The brunette let out a sad huffed laugh:
“She was so cute. Never wanting to bother me and simply waiting for me to give her news... My father told me that when they found her, she seemed peacefully asleep, in the armchair near the phone... I wonder if she was waiting for a call from me...”
A single tear rolled down the blonde’s cheek as he kept staring at his interlocutor. He had to say something, to move to shush the pain from Thomas. Not all of it, he wasn’t that vain, but just to appease it. Thomas suddenly turned his gaze to him and gently smiled:
“I’m sorry I didn’t write you guys back... I’ve been a bit depressed lately... I didn’t want to see anyone.”
Newt stayed dumbfounded at that. And him believing that he was the reason Thomas had changed that much. He felt relieved and sad and angry at the same time. How could he be so pretentious to believe he was the only thing going wrong in Thomas’ life? He hadn’t even thought once that the brunette might need help, love, comfort... He was so lame... Not even a friend. He shook his head as his eyes watered:
“Don’t.”
“What?” Thomas raised his eyebrows, surprised.
“Don’t say you’re sorry.” Newt blurted out. “I should be the one asking for your forgiveness!”
“I don’t understand.” The brunette admitted, giving him an apologetic smile.
“I... I thought you were gone because I had hurt you by rejecting you!” The blonde almost shouted as he felt tears running down his cheeks. “It never occurred to me that you could need help or comfort! That something so terrible had happened to you!”
“Newt...” His co-actor whispered.
“I thought the worse of you during all these months, thinking you could be that weak because of me! I... I was so shucking wrong! So shucking stupid!” Newt felt like his lungs didn’t want to work anymore. “How could I be so vain to think I’d be the centre of your world and had the power to break you down...? How could I be so self-centred, so blind, I didn’t know you were so vulnerable...?”
Thomas was staring at him with wide eyes, listening at this young man in front of him, sobbing because of him, or better said because he felt so irrelevant to him and had never thought he could have his own trials. The brunette smiled and gently slid his fingers between those soft and fair strands as he murmured:
“Newt... Would you stop your self-flagellation session?” He laughed slightly. “I was on my own because I never asked for any help. You couldn’t know... But I must say that you haven’t changed a bit during those few months... Only thinking the worse of yourself, always thinking any of your moves or words could hurt someone... Somehow, I find it very endearing and very sad at the same time.”
Newt felt his cheeks burning at that, not knowing if those words pleased him or embarrassed him. Sat straighter, chasing Thomas’ hand from his hair with a gesture of his own hand. His voice came grunting:
“Shut up. It’s embarrassing enough to apologize like this. And I’m not self-flagellating.”
His interlocutor burst out laughing. The sound was pleasant. It was definitely more like Thomas than this sadness Newt had seen before. The blonde smiled as he liked it, and suddenly felt physically pulled in the brunette’s arms as he hugged him.
“I missed you, Newt.” Thomas confessed, his cheek against the blond and soft hair. “I missed your irony, your smirks, your sarcasm...”
“Hey...!” The Brit groaned.
“And your kindness.” The brunette finished, ignoring the interruption, and pulled himself away, smiling. “I hope you’re doing fine with your boyfriend. And that he’s taking care of you.”
Boyfriend? Newt realised then that it was what he had told Thomas when he had rejected him. That he had someone in his life. He had lied... His eyes followed his interlocutor as he got up and turned towards the restaurant:
“Well. I guess it will soon be our turn again. We should come back.”
“Thomas!” Without even noticing, Newt was already on his feet, catching the brunette’s wrist.
“Newt...?” Thomas had turned to look at him, surprised and confused.
“I...” The Brit swallowed. “If I told you I lied... Because I was afraid to be nothing more than a heterosexual curiosity and experimentation for you, but that I kept thinking of you all those months, wondering how it would have been if I just had told you that I wanted to be with you... What would you do?”
Those last exact same words... It was all he could think to say... All he could dare... And maybe it was enough, judging by how Thomas pinned him against the wall, crushed his lips with his, inserted fiercely his tongue in his mouth and pressed heavenly his crotch against his, sending billions if not trillions of shivers through his body. And maybe the strangled ecstatic moan Thomas tore from him was the only possible answer to that question...
The end.