Work Text:
University had always been part of Newt's plan.
He'd grown up twenty minutes outside of London, and UCL simply happened to be the place that felt right. He hadn't expected much from Freshers' Week beyond awkward icebreakers, free tote bags and an unhealthy amount of instant noodles.
He definitely hadn't expected Thomas.
The American had wandered into the Freshers' Fair looking utterly lost, a crumpled campus map clutched in one hand and an expression that screamed please help me.
"Excuse me," he'd asked, his accent sticking out in the sea of Brits. "Do you know where the MedSoc stand is?"
Newt had laughed.
"You've walked straight past it."
Thomas had looked over his shoulder, groaned dramatically, and laughed too.
That had been it.
One conversation had become two. Two had become shared lunches. Shared lunches became late-night walks back from the library, coffee before lectures and texts that never really stopped. Somewhere between pre-reading dusty law tomes and complaining about London weather, Newt had fallen hopelessly, irreversibly in love.
They'd been together for about eighteen months now.
And everything had been perfect.
Except for one thing…
Apparently joining MedSoc also came with one complimentary Teresa.
Every bloody time.
She was always there.
In lectures.
Outside seminars.
In the Student Centre.
At the café.
If Thomas was somewhere, Teresa wasn't far behind, batting her eyelashes and finding yet another excuse to touch him.
A hand on his forearm when she laughed.
Brushing imaginary lint from his hoodie.
Leaning just a little too close when she wanted to see something on his laptop.
Calling him Tom Tom in a voice that made Newt's eye twitch.
And Thomas-
Thomas, who was somehow both the smartest person Newt knew and the most oblivious man on the planet-
Never.
Noticed.
"So..."
Minho's voice pulled him back to the present.
"You've been glaring at your cappuccino for five minutes."
Newt blinked, looking down at the foam he'd unknowingly been stirring into oblivion.
"I wasn't glaring."
"You were."
"I was just thinking.”
The library café buzzed around them with quiet conversations and the occasional hiss of the coffee machine. Minho sat opposite him, sports bag dumped beside his chair, already halfway through whatever monstrous iced drink he'd ordered.
Newt sighed.
"I swear she's doing it on purpose."
"Teresa?"
"Who else?"
Minho hummed.
"She touched his arm again yesterday."
"...Right."
"And she kept calling him 'Tom Tom'."
"Mm."
"And she kept laughing at everything he said."
Minho took another sip.
"Newt."
"What?"
"I've known Thomas for years."
"So?"
"If someone flirted with him by hitting him over the head with a frying pan, he'd probably apologise for getting in the way."
Newt couldn't even argue with that.
Thomas was kind to everyone. Smiled at everyone. Talked to everyone. It was one of the reasons Newt loved him so much.
It also happened to be the reason Teresa thought she had a chance.
"I know he doesn't mean anything by it," Newt admitted quietly, tracing circles around his mug. "I know he loves me."
Minho's expression softened.
"But..."
"But it still gets under my skin."
"You've told Thomas?"
Newt shook his head.
"What am I supposed to say? 'Hi, your friend keeps flirting with you and you're too oblivious to realise'?"
"You could."
"I'd sound mental."
Newt let out a slow breath.
"I don't want him to think I don't trust him."
Minho considered that for a moment.
Then he shrugged.
"Confront Teresa."
Newt frowned.
"What?"
"We're all going to Brenda's party on Saturday."
"So?"
"So, tell her to back off."
Newt stared.
"You make that sound incredibly easy."
"It is."
Before Newt could rebut the idea, a familiar voice drifted across the café.
"There you are."
Newt looked up just in time to see Thomas weaving through the tables, backpack slung over one shoulder, dark curls windswept from the walk across campus.
His face lit up the second he spotted Newt.
Without hesitation, Thomas leaned down, pressed a quick kiss to Newt's cheek and smiled.
"How's it going, babe?"
The irritation that had been simmering in Newt's chest all afternoon flattened.
He smiled back.
"Better now."
Thomas grinned, utterly unaware that he'd just interrupted a conversation entirely about him.
"Alright, Minho?"
Thomas nodded at the athlete he dropped his backpack onto the empty chair beside Newt.
"Alright, Tommy."
"I've been looking for you guys for fifteen minutes.”
"Well, you found us.”
"Barely. This place is massive."
Newt smiled as Thomas leaned down, pressing another quick kiss to his cheek. It was so natural, so effortless, that Newt barely thought about it anymore.
"Missed you," Thomas murmured.
"You saw me this morning."
"Yeah, but that was..." Thomas glanced dramatically at his watch. "Like...five hours ago."
"Tragic."
"I know."
Minho made a disgusted noise from behind his laptop.
"You two are unbearable."
"You love us really," Thomas shot back, sticking his tongue out before his expression sobered into something much more serious. "So," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Neurology lecture today."
Newt recognised the look on his boyfriend’s face immediately.
Thomas was about to ramble.
He loved it.
"It was incredible," Thomas said, eyes lighting up. "We were learning about traumatic brain injuries and neural pathways, and I know it's only second year, but..." He paused, almost embarrassed by his own excitement. "I actually think I know what I want to specialise in."
Newt smiled.
"Oh?"
"Neurology."
Minho looked up from his laptop.
"Seriously?"
Thomas nodded enthusiastically.
"I don't know why, but it just...clicks? Every lecture we have on the brain is fascinating. There's still so much we don't understand." He laughed softly. "I know it'll probably change about six times before graduation, but... I really think that's what I want."
Newt reached across the table and squeezed his hand.
"That's great."
Thomas's face softened.
"You think?"
"I know."
The smile Thomas gave him was worth every early lecture, every late-night study session, every hour spent missing him while he was buried in textbooks.
"Oh!" Thomas suddenly remembered. "Speaking of Saturday..."
Newt felt a flicker of excitement.
Brenda's party.
Finally, a night together without classes getting in the way.
"Teresa suggested we all get an Uber together."
The smile slipped from Newt's face before he could stop it.
"Oh?"
"Yeah." Thomas nodded obliviously. "Makes sense, doesn't it? You, me, Teresa, Minho...probably saves us some money."
"...Yeah."
"Should be fun."
Newt's stomach twisted.
Thomas, blissfully unaware, stood and slung his backpack over one shoulder.
"I've gotta run."
"So soon?"
"Lab practical." He leaned down, stealing another kiss from Newt's cheek. "I'll see you later."
"I can't wait to see you tonight."
Thomas hesitated.
"Oh..."
Newt already knew.
"It's MedSoc tonight."
"Oh."
Thomas rubbed the back of his neck apologetically.
"Sorry. I completely forgot."
"No, it's..." Newt forced another smile. "Fine. Of course."
"I'll text you afterwards?"
"Yeah."
Thomas smiled gratefully.
"I love you."
"Love you too."
With one final wave to the table, Thomas disappeared into the crowd of students weaving through the library café.
Newt watched him go until he vanished around the corner.
Silence settled between him and Minho.
Then Minho closed his laptop with a quiet click, stretched both arms behind his neck and let out a long sigh.
"Dude."
Newt didn't look at him.
"What?"
"You've got to tell him."
Newt stared into space.
"And you've got to confront Teresa."
Newt groaned.
"Minho..."
"I'm serious, if you don't do it" - Minho pointed a finger across the table - "I will."
Newt finally looked up.
The annoying thing was...
Minho wasn't bluffing.
Newt let his head fall back dramatically.
"Oh my God."
"I'm giving you until Monday."
Newt dragged both hands down his face.
"...Fine."
"Fine?"
"I'll do it."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
Minho nodded once.
"Good."
Newt sighed.
Now he just had to figure out which conversation would be more terrifying.
Talking to his boyfriend without making himself sound like a complete jealous psycho.
Or talking to the girl who clearly wanted him.
--
Saturday arrived far earlier than Newt would have liked. He had spent the week trying to avoid thinking about the party, so naturally, time had sped up just to taunt him.
After downing a can of pink gin and lemonade, Newt locked up his room and made his way to the meeting point, by which time the others were already there.
Thomas stood on the pavement with one hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans, the other furiously tapping away at his phone.
"Why is Uber making this so complicated?" he muttered. "I literally just want one driver.”
"It'll come eventually," Minho said, leaning casually against the brick wall.
Thomas sighed dramatically.
"I miss American Uber.”
"You've been here nearly two years," Newt called as he approached. "I think it's time to let that one go."
Thomas looked up immediately, his face splitting into a grin.
"There he is."
Before Newt could reach him, Teresa stepped closer to Thomas, peering over his shoulder at his phone.
"Here, Tom Tom, let me see."
Newt stopped walking.
Teresa leaned in until their shoulders were touching.
"No, look," she said, laughing softly. "You've put the pickup point on the wrong side of the road."
"I have?"
"Mhm." She reached across him, her hand brushing his forearm as she pointed at the screen. "See?"
"Oh."
Thomas chuckled sheepishly.
"That would explain why it keeps cancelling."
"It would."
She giggled.
Newt's jaw tightened.
Across the pavement, Minho caught his eye.
Neither of them said anything.
One look was enough.
See?
I know.
As if sensing their attention, Teresa glanced over.
The smile she gave them was perfectly polite.
"Hi, Newt," she said brightly.
"Hi."
She smiled at Minho too.
"Hey."
"Teresa."
Newt couldn't explain it.
Maybe he was imagining things.
Maybe he was letting his jealousy get the better of him.
But as Teresa turned back towards Thomas, Newt couldn't shake the feeling that her smile hadn't reached her eyes.
It looked friendly enough.
Just…
Rehearsed like the presentations Newt dreaded giving in his Law seminars.
"Right!" Thomas announced triumphantly. "I've got one!"
He held up his phone like he'd won the lottery.
"Our driver's six minutes away."
"Finally," Minho muttered.
Thomas slipped his phone into his pocket before wandering over to Newt, wrapping an arm loosely around his waist without a second thought.
"I missed you," he said, bumping Newt’s shoulder affectionately.
Newt leaned into the touch.
"Been, what? Three hours?"
"Too long."
Out of the corner of his eye, Newt caught Teresa watching them, her face twisted in barely concealed jealousy. A toxic inclination buried deep inside of him couldn't help but smile.
--
The house was already packed by the time they arrived.
Music thumped through the walls, voices spilled out onto the pavement and every room seemed to be overflowing with students balancing plastic cups and bottles.
Someone had already started dancing on the coffee table.
It wasn't even ten o'clock.
"This is mental," Thomas laughed as they squeezed through the hallway.
"This is every British house party I’ve attended since Sixth Form," Newt replied.
"I can tell."
A chant erupted somewhere upstairs.
Glass shattered.
Thomas blinked.
"...Should we be concerned?"
"No," Minho answered. "As long as there’s no blood or bone sticking out it’s fine.”
"I'm beginning to think you people are unhinged."
"We've been trying to tell you that."
Thomas laughed, shaking his head.
Before Newt could slip his hand into Thomas', a familiar voice chimed in.
"Oh!"
Teresa looked around excitedly.
"I think everyone's in the kitchen already."
Thomas glanced towards the sound of laughter echoing through the house.
"I should probably go say hi to everyone from MedSoc."
"Perfect!" Teresa beamed. "I'll come with you!"
Before Thomas had the chance to respond, she'd already fallen into step beside him.
"C'mon, Tom!”
"Oh - yeah, okay."
Thomas looked back over his shoulder.
"I'll find you in a bit?"
"Sure."
Newt watched the pair disappear into the crowd and took a step after them until a hand gently pulled his shoulder back.
"Leave it."
Newt looked sideways at Minho.
"I was just-"
"I know."
Newt sighed.
"I just..."
"Thomas won't let anything happen."
Newt knew that.
He trusted Thomas completely.
That wasn't the issue.
His shoulders relaxed a little.
"I know."
Minho gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before nodding towards the back door.
"C'mon."
They pushed through the house until the air cooled against their skin.
The garden was strung with fairy lights, clusters of students gathered around outdoor heaters despite it being May. Music drifted outside, softer now, mixing with the murmur of conversations and the occasional burst of laughter.
Brenda stood near the fence, cigarette between two fingers, chatting with a few people from her course.
She spotted them immediately.
"There they are!"
She opened her arms dramatically.
"You made it!"
"Told you we would," Minho said.
Brenda pulled Newt into a quick hug before doing the same to Minho.
"I was beginning to think you'd ditched me."
"As if."
"You look stressed," she said, eyeing Newt.
"I always look stressed."
"Fair."
She laughed, taking another drag from her cigarette.
Conversation came easily after that.
They talked about coursework.
About the exam season everyone was dreading.
About Minho's latest athletics competition.
About how one of Brenda's housemates had somehow managed to set off the fire alarm trying to cook pasta.
Again.
Newt was only half listening.
Every now and then his eyes drifted back towards the kitchen windows, catching flashes of people moving inside.
Looking for one person in particular.
Then-
A roar erupted from inside the house.
"We like to drink with Tommy 'cause Tommy is our mate!"
A chorus of voices immediately joined in.
"And when we drink with Tommy, he gets it down in-!"
Brenda burst out laughing.
"Oh no."
"What?" Newt asked.
"They've got him."
Another cheer.
"Eight, seven, six-"
"Oh, for God's sake," Minho cursed under his breath.
The three of them hurried back through the house towards the kitchen, where a crowd had gathered in a loose circle, phones already out recording.
In the middle stood Thomas, tipping a pint of beer back into his mouth, which he managed to down without stopping. Once it was finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked utterly bewildered.
"...What just happened?"
The kitchen erupted into applause.
People were whistling, chanting Thomas’ name, clapping said boy on the back as he stood there clutching the empty pint glass with an expression somewhere between triumph and regret.
"I..." He swallowed hard. "I don't feel so good."
"Tom!" Teresa grinned, practically bouncing over to him. "That was incredible!"
Thomas barely seemed to hear her.
Instead, he looked around the room with growing panic.
"I need Newt."
Teresa's smile faltered.
"What?"
"I need Newt," Thomas repeated, one hand pressing against his stomach. "I think I'm gonna throw up."
"Oh, Newt isn't here," Teresa said quickly, stepping closer. "It's okay, I'll help you."
She reached for his arm.
Thomas gently pulled away.
"No... I want Newt."
"It's fine, Tom-"
"I need my boyfriend."
The words were slurred, but unmistakable.
Newt felt something warm bloom in his chest.
Then immediately cool again as Teresa ignored him.
"You'll be alright," she cooed, reaching for Thomas's shoulder again. "Come on, let's get you outside."
Newt dug his fingers into his palm.
"Teresa."
She looked up.
Only then seeming to realise he was standing a few feet away.
"Oh."
Thomas looked over too.
The relief on his face was instant.
"Newt."
"There you are."
He stumbled forwards before Newt caught him by the elbows.
"Easy."
"I don't feel very good."
"I gathered."
"I think..." Thomas swallowed again, face turning a worrying shade of green. "...I'm definitely gonna be sick."
"Bathroom," Minho said immediately.
Together, he and Newt guided Thomas through the crowd, apologising as they squeezed past confused partygoers.
"Sorry," he mumbled as they climbed the stairs.
"It's alright."
"I'm ruining the party."
"You're not."
"I'm definitely ruining your night."
"You've done nothing of the sort Tommy.”
By the time they reached the upstairs bathroom, Thomas barely made it to the toilet before dropping to his knees.
Newt was beside him in seconds, pulling his curls back from his face as he retched into the bowl.
Behind them, Minho quietly closed the bathroom door.
Teresa slipped in just before it shut.
The bathroom was quiet sans the sound of Thomas being sick and Newt whispering reassurances into his boyfriend’s ear.
Eventually Thomas slumped against the side of the bath with a miserable groan.
"I'm sorry you're seeing me like this."
Newt smiled softly.
"Tommy."
"Hm?"
"It's my responsibility as your boyfriend to look after you."
Thomas frowned.
"It is?"
"Course it is."
"You don't have to."
"I do.”
Newt reached up, brushing a damp curl away from Thomas's forehead.
"And besides I want to.”
Thomas’ shoulders slumped, and he half-curled into Newt’s side.
"...Love you."
"I love you too."
From the doorway came an impatient tap...
Teresa stood with her arms folded, foot rhythmically rising and falling against the floorboards.
Her eyes never left Thomas.
Or rather-
They never left the fact that Thomas's attention was entirely on Newt.
Minho noticed it too.
He caught Newt's eye and gave the smallest nod towards Teresa.
Now.
Newt hesitated.
Minho raised an eyebrow.
Now.
Newt took a slow breath before looking back at Thomas.
"I'm just going to grab you some water, alright?"
Thomas nodded weakly.
"...Okay."
"I'll only be a minute."
As Newt stood, Minho crouched beside Thomas instead.
"I've got him."
Newt nodded gratefully before walking towards the door.
Teresa immediately straightened.
"Tom Tom, do you need-
"No."
She blinked.
Newt stepped into the hallway, holding the bathroom door open and beckoning Teresa to follow him.
"We need to talk."
For the first time that evening, Teresa's confident smile disappeared.
"...Alright."
The hallway suddenly felt far too quiet.
The music from downstairs was muffled now, reduced to a dull thump beneath the silence stretching between them.
Newt folded his arms.
"I've tried giving you the benefit of the doubt."
Teresa didn't say anything.
"I've tried telling myself you were just friendly."
Still nothing.
"But you're not."
Newt let out a slow breath.
"You call him 'Tom Tom.' You find every excuse to touch him. You practically throw yourself at him every time you're in the same room."
"I don't-"
"You do."
His voice wasn't raised.
If anything, that made it worse.
"I've watched you brush his arm, fix his hair, lean over him, cling onto him. Every single time we're together, you act like I'm not even there."
Teresa looked away.
"And tonight..."
Newt shook his head in disbelief.
"What the fuck, Teresa?"
Her eyes snapped back to his.
"He asked for me."
Silence.
"He said he needed me."
Another pause.
"And you looked him in the eye and told him I wasn't there."
"I was trying to help."
"No."
Newt's voice was firm.
"You were trying to keep him to yourself."
Teresa laughed bitterly.
"You don't understand."
"Then explain it to me."
"I love him."
The words hung in the air.
"I've loved him since we met."
Newt closed his eyes briefly.
"I know."
"And he loves me too."
Newt bit back the urge to scoff.
"He just doesn't realise it yet."
"You actually believe that?"
"He does!" Teresa insisted. "Look at the way he smiles when he's with me. He laughs at my jokes, he tells me everything-"
"Because he's your friend."
"No, he just hasn't figured it out."
Newt couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.
"Teresa..."
"He's confused."
The sentence made his stomach drop.
"He thinks he loves you because you're his first boyfriend."
There it was.
The thing Newt had dreaded hearing.
"He'll realise eventually."
Newt's expression hardened.
"No."
Teresa frowned.
"Tommy’s bisexuality isn't a phase."
She flinched.
"He isn't confused, he isn't experimenting, and he certainly doesn't need someone waiting around for him to 'come to his senses.'"
The hallway fell silent again.
"Tommy loves me, and I love him.” Newt said simply, not boastfully, just matter-of-factually. "And we're happy together."
Teresa swallowed.
"If you actually cared about Tommy, you'd respect that."
She opened her mouth.
Newt didn't let her speak.
"If you can't accept his relationship..."
He stepped aside, gesturing towards the staircase.
"...then you need to get out of his life."
Then Newt turned on his heel and walked away.
He didn't wait for a response.
He didn't want nor need one.
--
The bathroom door creaked open.
Minho was gone.
In his place sat a bottle of water and a packet of mints on the sink.
Thomas was still sitting on the bathroom floor, leaning against the bath with a blanket someone had apparently found for him.
He looked up as Newt walked in.
"...Hey."
"Hey."
Newt closed the door quietly behind him.
Thomas rubbed the back of his neck.
"I, uh..."
He looked sheepish.
"I heard everything."
Newt blinked.
"You did?"
"The walls are...really thin."
"Oh."
Thomas stared down at his hands.
"I'm sorry."
"What for?"
"I should've stopped it."
Newt frowned.
"Stopped what?"
"Teresa."
Thomas sighed heavily.
"I genuinely didn't realise how bad it'd gotten."
His voice cracked with guilt.
"I should've set boundaries, told her to stop touching me. Fuck I didn’t even realise how uncomfortable she was making you.”
Newt crossed the room and crouched in front of him.
"Tommy…”
Thomas looked up.
"You didn't know."
"But I should have… I hate that my boyfriend was hurting and I didn’t even know. I’m such an idiot.”
Newt smiled sadly.
"No, you’re not, it’s my fault for not telling you sooner.” He said, leaning forward to cup Thomas’ face in his hands. "You were just trying to be a good friend, and Teresa took advantage of that.”
"I'll tell her." Thomas sighed sadly.
Newt tilted his head.
"What?"
"I'm going to tell her it's over, that we can’t be friends anymore.
Thomas took Newt's hand.
"I don't want anyone making you feel second best."
"You never have."
"I don't want anyone thinking they have a chance with me."
Newt squeezed his hand.
"They don't."
Thomas's eyes softened.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
He pulled Newt gently towards him.
Newt happily let himself fall into the embrace, wrapping his arms around Thomas as Thomas buried his face against his shoulder.
It felt like they were the only two people in the world as they soaked up the feeling of touching one another.
Eventually Thomas pulled back slightly before leaning in for a kiss.
Newt immediately burst into laughter.
Thomas blinked.
"What?"
Newt scrunched up his nose dramatically.
"Maybe after you brush your teeth, Tommy."
Thomas froze.
"...Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”
Newt chuckled, as Thomas hid his face in his hands.
"I'm never drinking again."
"Mhm."
"I mean it."
Newt smiled and slipped back into his arms anyway.
"I still love you, vomit breath or not.”
Thomas rested his chin on top of Newt's head.
"I love you too."
They stayed there together on the cool bathroom floor, wrapped around one another while the party carried on downstairs, perfectly content to let the rest of the world carry on without them.