Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7421218.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_Maze_Runner_Series_-_James_Dashner
  Relationship:
      Newt/Thomas_(Maze_Runner)
  Character:
      Thomas_(Maze_Runner), Newt_(Maze_Runner)
  Additional Tags:
      Anal_Fingering, Anal_Sex, Oral_Sex, Fluff_and_Smut, Gay_Sex, Some_angst,
      I_Can't_Believe_I_Wrote_This
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-07-07 Words: 5179
****** Fuck Me Like This Could Be the Last Time ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     "I am not pinkie swearing whilst lying in bed with you naked. That's
     just weird."
     Thomas and his family are moving to the other side of the country,
     and neither he nor Newt want to spend their last night together
     wallowing in their heartache.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Lying in bed with Newt was possibly the best feeling to Thomas, his arms
wrapped around the blond's slim frame whilst leaving lazy, sleepy kisses atop
his forehead. Newt was warm, and despite his usual mature and independent
attitude he could be quite clingy, making Thomas only want to hold him closer.
There were countless nights where the two would find themselves wrapped up in
each other, Newt kissing and biting and sucking on Thomas' neck, intentionally
leaving bruises that they both knew their friends would notice the next day,
whilst Thomas' hands explored his body, nails gently grazing against soft skin.
Unfortunately, those nights had quickly come to an end. Newt didn't know that
this would be their last night together, and Thomas hated himself for putting
off telling him for so long. Every time he tried, and he would look at Newt
with that innocent, unknowing smile, he would freeze completely, and the first
stupid thing he could think of would come pouring out of his mouth. He knew
Newt didn't care, though. Newt would laugh or call him an idiot and think
nothing of it, and Thomas would curse himself for being such a coward. Thomas
couldn't tell him; he couldn't rob him of that sweet smile.
But it wouldn't matter anymore come tomorrow.
Thomas threaded his fingers through Newt's hair, knowing how much the blond
liked it, and smiled at the earned hum of approval. He knew he had to tell him
tonight, but he couldn't help but put it off for a little bit longer. Hurting
Newt was the last thing he wanted to do, though deep down Thomas knew that
neglecting the truth was only going to make him feel worse. If Newt was going
to get mad at him, shout at him or even break up with him, Thomas wouldn't
blame him; he couldn't blame him. It would be his own fault for lying for so
long.
“You're quiet.” The sound of Newt's voice breaks Thomas out of his trance. When
he looked down at him, the blond was no longer in his relaxed half-sleep state
and was staring back at him. There was a concerned look on his face, and that
was when Thomas realized that Newt knew something was bothering him. “What's
the matter?”
There was a flicker of panic inside of Thomas' chest. Of course he knew he had
to come clean to his boyfriend, but once again his mouth betrayed him. “It's
nothing,” he lied, wanting to smack himself for it. “I'm just tired, that's
all.”
Newt didn't look convinced. He sat up in the bed and Thomas did the same,
knowing the blond far too well to know that he wasn't going to drop the
subject. Newt was persistent, and though it could be quite frustrating at times
it was one of the many things Thomas loved about him. He was stubborn, yes, but
he cared so much for others that it was hard to be annoyed with him for long.
“You're a shitty liar, Tommy,” Newt said, though there wasn't a trace of anger
in his voice. Only concern. “Come on. You must know you can talk to me about
anything by now, yeah?”
It seemed impossible to lie to Newt. He could always see through Thomas' lies
as if he were actually reading his mind. He could read him like a book, and his
gentle, soft-spoken tone always managed to pull the truth out of him without
fail. With a heavy sigh, Thomas knew he couldn't keep it from him any longer.
If there was a time to be honest, even if it meant hurting the person he loved
most, it was now.
“My family's moving to California,” he said softly. “We're leaving tomorrow
morning.”
Thomas avoided all eye contact with Newt, but he didn't have to look to know
that Newt was staring at him as if his entire world had come crumbling down.
The blond had fallen into a stunned silence, and when Thomas did eventually
look at him, his heart broke. He had never seen Newt look so shocked, his jaw
wide open in disbelief, but it didn't last for long. Within a matter of seconds
Newt had gone through a variety of expressions—confusion, disappointment—until
it finally settled on anger, something Thomas had been fearing all night.
“You...” Newt paused for a moment, clearly trying his best to come up with the
right words. He wasn't one for yelling, but it was plain for Thomas to see that
the blond was close to losing his composure. After what felt like an eternity
of waiting, the only thing to come out of Newt's mouth was, “What?”
“Please don't be mad at me,” Thomas immediately replied, trying not to sound
desperate. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I really am. I wanted to tell you, but I—”
“Then why didn't you?” Newt interrupted. He sounded furious, and Thomas wanted
crawl under a rock. “What, you didn't think it was important for me to know
something like that? You didn't think I'd want to know my boyfriend was moving
to other side of the fucking country? Why didn't you say anything!”
Thomas flinched at the sudden outburst. He couldn't think of an excuse, because
there was none. Newt was off the bed and pacing around the room in seconds,
raking his fingers through and tugging at his hair, completely frustrated. As
much as Thomas wanted to take him into his arms, he couldn't; as much as he
wanted to hold him and kiss him, it wouldn't make the problem go away. He had
been lying for weeks, saying that his parents were renovating the house to keep
Newt away when in reality they were packing everything up and preparing for a
long drive from Vermont to California. Thomas had dug himself a grave, and
there was no way out of it.
There was a heavy silence between them for several minutes, the only sound
being the creaking floorboards from Newt's pacing. Thomas eventually climbed
off of the bed and slowly made his way over to his boyfriend. “I'm sorry,” he
said, almost in a whisper. Newt's had stopped pacing and his back was to him,
and in a weak sliver of hope that maybe he had calmed down the smallest bit
Thomas reached out to him, wrapping his arms around him. “I'm sorry,” he said
again. “I really am. I was just scared of what you'd say.”
“I would have understood.” Newt said it as if it were the most obvious thing in
the world, but Thomas could hear the hurt in his voice. He should have known
that if he had been honest with Newt from the get-go the blond wouldn't have
been so upset. He really would have understood and, deep down, Thomas knew it,
yet he still chose to lie. Newt was everything to him, and now he was going to
lose him.
Newt pulled away from Thomas' grasp and turned to face him. There was a small,
sad smile on his lips, one Thomas wanted to kiss away. His eyes looked glassy,
as if he were on the verge of tears, and it broke Thomas' heart. Newt rarely
cried, and knowing that he was the one who had brought this beautiful boy to
tears made him feel sick. “So, this is it, then?” Newt asked, his tone of voice
meek. “This is the last night we can be together.”
It was more of a statement than a question, and Thomas didn't know what to say
in response. Hearing the truth from Newt made it feel more real, as if this
really was going to be the last time they'll ever see each other. It felt like
the blond had given up; they were doomed to be separated forever, though Thomas
knew that was ridiculous, and he was sure Newt knew it, too. They could still
text one another and chat on the phone; they could video chat through Skype and
they both used Facebook. It wasn't like they were being separated by time or
dimensions; just distance, but that wasn't really the point.
This would be the last time in a long time they could be together. This would
be the last time in a long time they could touch and hold one another; the last
time they could simply enjoy each others company. Thomas would no longer catch
Newt in the hallway between classes and complain to him about how awful their
math teacher, Janson, was. He could no longer convince the blond to skip class
with him and sneak into the boy's locker room, where they could be alone for at
least a little while. He could no longer lie in bed with him and talk about
everything and anything at the same time, kissing him and holding him as if
they were the last two people on earth.
No.
Thomas didn't want their last night together to be wasted reminiscing with
heavy hearts about all the times they spent together. He didn't want his last
moments with Newt to be spent crying, Thomas wishing they could just run away
together despite knowing how childish it sounded. Their last night together
should be memorable, should give them hope that this won't, in fact, be their
last night, and Thomas was going to make it so.
Before he could put too much thought into it, Thomas took the few steps between
them and pressed his lips against Newt's. The kiss was soft and sweet, and
though Thomas could feel Newt's body tense up for a moment it relaxed quickly,
melting into the affection. Thomas' arms instinctively wrapped around the
blond's torso, pulling him closer, and suddenly the kiss is anything but
innocent. He breaks away only for a second to pull on Newt's lower lip and slip
his tongue inside the blond's mouth.
The kiss becomes sloppy with their tongues battling for dominance but is not
devoid of passion. They pulled away for a moment, both out of breath, but Newt
didn't wait long to attach his lips to Thomas' neck; kissing, biting, and
sucking and doing everything he knew had an effect on him. Thomas couldn't help
but moan. A fire was building in his lower belly; a flicker of desire that made
him crave more. “Newt,” he sighed as the blond licked the bruise he had left
and moved to leave a trail of kisses along Thomas' jawline.
“Bed. Now.”
It was a demand Thomas craved to hear come out of Newt's mouth, and he had no
qualms with obeying. They crawled onto the bed, Newt on top of Thomas, and Newt
didn't waste any time in attacking Thomas' neck again. The blond was
practically merciless with his claiming, always choosing to leave marks in
noticeable places (and occasionally others in not-so noticeable places), but
Thomas didn't mind; he never did. He belonged to Newt, and he had no problem
with letting people know it.
Just as Newt's teeth grazed his collar bone, Thomas felt a hand slip into his
boxers, inching toward his already hard cock, making him gasp. Honestly, Newt
was never this bold when it came to fooling around. Thomas wouldn't describe
him as shy (or even all that innocent), but he was certainly submissive,
allowing Thomas to do whatever he pleased to him, so seeing him take some
initiative was actually quite the turn-on. With an instinctive buck of his
hips, Thomas let out another moan as Newt took his cock into his hand and
slowly started to pump. “Oh, fuck...”
Newt's pace was agonizingly slow, and Thomas could feel the smirk on his lips
as he continued kissing and nibbling on his neck. Whenever he decided to play
the dominant, Newt was almost cruel. He loved taking his sweet, sweet time with
him, and even though Thomas would beg it seemed that he would only go slower
until he had him panting and shaking. It was hot. “You like that?” Newt asked,
voice lower and huskier than usual, which practically drove Thomas insane.
“Oh, yeah.” As Newt ran his thumb over the tip of Thomas' cock, it was amazing
that Thomas was even able to get those two simple words out. His breathing had
gotten heavy and were mostly moans, and he had already begun to sweat. It
wouldn't be too long now before he was driven completely over the edge. “Keep
it up, babe.”
And then it stopped.
Everything had stopped; the kissing, the biting, everything. Newt took his hand
out of Thomas' boxers, leaving him both confused and disappointed. “W-Why'd you
stop?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows. He looked at Newt, but he
didn't look back. Instead, the blond was licking his lips and playing with the
waistband of Thomas' briefs. Seeing how completely flushed he was and the hint
of lust in Newt's eyes, it didn't take long for him to realize what he wanted.
The disappointment had instantly dissolved and was replaced with something
else: anticipation.
It felt like a century had gone by when Newt finally stopped playing with the
waistband and decided to pull on it instead. Thomas lifted his legs to help him
remove the unwanted garment and it was tossed away carelessly, never to be
thought of again until morning. They're quiet for a moment, and Newt is looking
back and forth between Thomas' eyes and his cock as if asking for confirmation.
Thomas swallows, but since he couldn't quite get the words out he simply
nodded, and it was all Newt needed.
Newt licked the tip of Thomas' cock before taking it into his mouth, and thank
god his parent's weren't home because Thomas was sure the filthy moan he had
just let out would have gotten them caught in the matter of seconds. Thomas
lied back down, his head thrown back as he tries to keep himself under control.
He threads his fingers through Newt's feathery locks and pulls hard, knowing it
would get a rise out of the blond and making him suck harder. “Oh!” Thomas
moans as Newt puts his tongue to better use, licking the tip before taking him
back again and hollowing his cheeks. “Oh, fuck… Yeah, that's it. Lower. Lower!”
Unlike Thomas, Newt wanted him to come during a blow job, and Thomas knew he
wasn't going to stop until he did. With another guttural moan and another tug
of Newt's hair, he finally came undone. He came into the blond's mouth, and
though he was afraid of him choking (he was always afraid of him choking) Newt
didn't release his cock until he had swallowed everything.
“Holy shit,” Thomas sighed. He was still quite high on ecstasy, but once he
managed to get his breathing under control he could talk clearly again. “Why
are you so good at that?”
“Wouldn't you like to know.” There was a smug grin on Newt's face, making
Thomas roll his eyes. Thomas knew he was only teasing him, but that didn't stop
him from kissing that smirk off of his face. Thomas wasn't sure if he was
leaning back or if Newt was pushing him, but it didn't matter. They wanted
more, and they had all night to make up for the time that they were going to
lose by the time the sun comes up.
When Newt pulled away for air, Thomas took the opportunity to grab his hips and
switch their positions around. Straddling the blond's waist, he pulled his
shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor, and Newt didn't wait long to do
the same. Newt was beautiful, and no matter how many times they had sex Thomas
couldn't help but stop for a moment and simply admire him, much to the blond's
embarrassment. “Stop staring, Tommy,” Newt demanded.
“Sorry.” He wasn't, though. While he could never get the blond to see it,
Thomas thought Newt was stunning, especially when he was covered in hickies and
his hair was disheveled from a night of hot sex.
“Would you rather stare at me or blow me?”
“Oh, I'll blow you,” Thomas assured with a grin, leaning into kiss the blond
again. “I'll blow you,” his lips brushed against the shell of Newt's ear, “and
then I'll fuck you nice and slow, you'll be begging and screaming for more.”
He would never say it aloud, but Newt loved it when Thomas whispered such
filthy things into his ear. It was one of his securely hidden turn-ons that
only Thomas knew about, and on nights like these he loved to exploit the hell
out of it. Newt was usually so composed an in-control of himself; Thomas
couldn't help but feel a sense of pride being the one who can reduce the blond
to a hot, panting mess.
Thomas brushed his lips along Newt's cheek and started leaving a trail of soft
kisses down his neck until he reached his shoulder. He bit down on the soft
skin, earning a gasp from the blond, and started to suck. Newt wrapped his arms
around his shoulders, as if he needed something to hold onto, and bucked his
hips. He was growing impatient, and it only encouraged Thomas to continue his
work, licking the bruise he had left and moved on to another patch of bare
skin.
“Tommy,” Newt sighed, the slightest hint of annoyance in his tone. “Just get on
with it.”
“So impatient.” Thomas could practically feel the blond rolling his eyes, but
if he had to be honest Newt's thrusting was making him achingly hard all over
again. He grabbed the waistband of Newt's pants and his boxers and pulled them
down, and Newt wasted no time in kicking them off. Once satisfied with the
numerous bites and bruises he had left along the blond's neck and collarbone,
he started leaving a trail of wet, lazy kisses down his chest, his stomach,
occasionally nipping at the skin all the way down to his cock until he finally
took it into his mouth, resulting in a harsh moan from the blond.
Newt's hands immediately grabbed Thomas' hair and start pulling. His moans were
loud and obscene, but Thomas knew that they would only get louder as the night
progressed. He licked and sucked, hollowing his cheeks and relishing in every
little noise that escaped the blond's mouth. “Oh, Tommy,” Newt moaned, his back
arching. “Oh, yes. Almost there. Oh...”
Thomas wasn't surprised by Newt's annoyed groan when he pulled off, licking his
lips with a smug grin of his own. With a few more sucks, he probably could have
driven Newt over the edge, but he loved watching the other boy squirm. He loved
hearing the blond pleading to be touched, begging to come. Watching him
unravel, blinded by lust, was possibly the hottest thing to Thomas. “Don't
worry, babe,” he assured. “I'm not done with you yet.”
As Thomas reached over to the nightstand, knowing that's where Newt kept a
small bottle of lube, Newt moved to lazily wrap his legs around Thomas' waist.
The anticipation was almost eating him alive, as it did every time despite them
having done this countless times before, but perhaps tonight was a bit
different. By ten o'clock tomorrow morning, Thomas and his family would be
leaving on a drive all the way across the country. Who knew when would be the
next time he could see Newt again; the next time he could hug or kiss him
again. Yes, tonight was different, and that's why Thomas wanted to make it as
good as possible.
Finally finding what he was looking for, Thomas coated two fingers with the
lube, trying not to shake the container. (He wasn't nervous, but he didn't have
the steadiest of hands.) Setting that to the side, he slowly rubbed his fingers
along Newt's entrance, earning him a shaky sigh from the blond, before
carefully easing them into him. By the sharp gasp, Thomas knew that it must
have stung or at least surprised him a little. He stopped for a moment,
mumbling several apologies, but Newt simply shook his head. “Just move, Tommy.”
Still, Thomas didn't want to hurt him, so his movements were slow and
attentive. He started with a simple in-and-out motion, wanting Newt to adjust
to the feeling, before making scissor movements. Newt's moans were becoming
raspy, so Thomas went ahead and inserted a third fingers, his pace quickening
only the tiniest bit.
“Oh, Tommy.” It sounded like a warning, that Newt was close and if Thomas
didn't replace his fingers with his cock soon the blond wouldn't last long.
With a few more small thrusts and a little bit of scissoring, Thomas removed
his fingers and lined his cock with Newt's entrance.
“Are you ready?” Thomas asked, smirking so smugly it almost hurt.
Newt sighed, somewhat frustrated. “You already know the answer to that.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“Oh, my god, Tommy. Just fuck me!”
Those last few words came out as a harsh moan as Thomas thrust himself inside
of Newt. He paused for a moment to allow the other boy to adjust to the feeling
before pulling back and slowly thrusting back in again. As promised, Thomas was
going (to try) to take his sweet time with him as the blond had done earlier.
His movements were slow, and Newt's attempts to buck his hips to gain more
friction were less than successful. Thomas leaned down to silence Newt's dirty
moans with sloppy, forceful kisses, but it did little to suppress his own low,
guttural ones as the blond started raking his nails down his back.
The flame that had slightly fizzled from the first orgasm had returned in full
force. Thomas' thrusts had quickly become erratic from forcing himself to keep
a slow pace. “Tommy,” Newt moaned, somewhat louder and more drawn out than
before. “Oh, fuck. Faster. Harder. Oh, Tommy!”
The way Thomas' name came pouring out of the blond's mouth, dripping with
desire, it was hard for him to do anything but quicken his pace. It felt as if
he had lost all control, and with a few rolls of his hips he knew he had. The
only sounds in the room were a dirty mix of their broken moans, their skin
slapping together, and the creaking mattress. After leaving several scratches
down Thomas' back, Newt's hands found themselves threading into his hair and
pulling hard. Thomas let out a yell, and it only made him thrust faster.
After a string of obscenities from Newt, begging him to fuck him harder, Thomas
paused only for a second to slightly adjust his hips. When he continued, the
blond let out harsh cry. He had found the spot, the spot that drove Newt
absolutely mad; the spot that he would spend the rest of the time abusing until
Newt came completely undone.
“Oh, Tommy!” Newt cried, his moaning just barely loud enough to cover the sound
of the headboard banging hard against the wall. “Oh, fuck. Right there! Oh,
yes! Keep doing that! Oh, Tommy… Oh, Tommy!”
Once again, Thomas' movements had become erratic. His mind had gone completely
blank and was just lost in the pleasure, drowning in the sound of Newt's broken
moans. He knew he was riding on the edge of that point, and he was sure Newt
was, too, but neither of them wanted to stop. He was practically slamming into
the blond now, fucking him into the mattress, and Newt's screaming only drove
him further into madness. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” It took a moment or two for Newt to get
out any actual words with meaning. “I want to come…”
One last bit of fun. “What do you say?”
“Oh, please, Tommy! Make me come. I wanna come!”
That was all Thomas needed to take Newt's leaking cock into his hand and start
pumping. Newt arched his back, and it didn't take many more thrusts and pumps
to send both of them over the edge. “Oh, shit… Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!
Oh, Newt!” They hit their orgasms with one last loud moan. Thomas rolled his
hips and made a few more lazy thrusts, riding out his high, before pulling out
and nearly collapsing on top of the blond.
Their breathing was heavy, mixed in with small, raspy moans, and Thomas wasn't
sure how long they stayed lying next to each other like that. A few minutes,
maybe, but the (sort of) silence didn't last long as Newt rolled over to curl
into Thomas, kissing his neck sweetly. “That was amazing,” he says with a sigh.
Another kiss. “So good, babe.”
Thomas wrapped an arm around Newt's waist, pulling him closer. He kissed his
forehead, unable to say anything for a moment whilst still catching his breath.
Cuddling was probably the best thing after a heated round of sex; their bodies
were warm and they could just enjoy each others' relaxed company. The tiny
little thought of this being the last time they could do this, however, kept
trying to sneak its way in to ruin Thomas' mood, so instead he focused on
massaging Newt's probably sore arse (he'll admit he had gotten a little carried
away and thus been a little too rough with him) and kissing any part of him he
could.
“I won't see you again after tonight, will I?”
Well, so much for staying positive. Thomas didn't have to look at him to know
that there was sadness in Newt's eyes, and he wished more than anything that he
could take it away. While there was nothing he could do to prevent the
inevitable, he could at least try to make it seem like it wasn't going to be
the end of the world. “I can still video chat with you, dumb-ass,” Thomas says
with a lame laugh. “It's not like me moving away is going to make Skype
disappear.”
“I mean really see you, smart-ass” Newt insisted, giving Thomas' leg a weak
kick. “I can't hang out with you. I can't hug you. I can't kiss you. I can't
lie in bed and talk about stupid shit with you. I can't—”
“Spray paint Janson's car and fill his desk with live frogs with me?”
“I can't be with you.”
Thomas knew his attempts at making light of the situation were failing. He
remembered all the times he spent with Newt even before they started dating
only a year ago. (Has it really been only one year? It feels like an eternity.)
He could no longer visit him and help him babysit his little sister. They
couldn't get together every Friday night to marathon the original Star Wars
trilogy, even though they had probably seen them a thousand times. They
couldn't go to that little creek behind Thomas' house to throw rocks in the
water and climb the trees just like they had when they were kids.
Worst of all it wasn't even just Newt Thomas could no longer be with; it was
everyone, all of his friends from school. Minho. Brenda. Alby. Aris. Teresa. He
had no idea when he could actually see them again, hang out with them again,
and the realization was almost enough to bring him to tears.
Before he could think too much about it, Thomas pressed his lips to Newt's in a
long, gentle kiss. He couldn't believe this would be their last night together,
and he couldn't let Newt believe it, either. Distance couldn't separate them
forever, and it was that little spark of hope that made the optimistic smile
return to Thomas' face. “I'll come back,” he said. “School's almost over with.
I'll come back over the summer. I'll come back every summer until we graduate.
I'll come back and I'll never leave you again.”
It sounded ridiculous coming out of his mouth, like they were little kids again
making promises to always be friends and never break apart. Well, they were a
bit more than just friends now, and despite how silly it was it managed to put
the smile back on Newt's lips, which was all Thomas wanted. “And what makes you
think you can make those promises, Tommy?”
“I'll pinkie swear on it if that'll make you feel better.”
Thomas held up his pinkie finger, and this time Newt laughed. He actually
laughed, and to this day it was one of the most beautiful sounds Thomas had
ever heard. “I am not pinkie swearing whilst lying in bed with you naked.
That's just weird,” the blond protested. “Besides, aren't we a little old for
that?”
“I won't tell if you won't,” Thomas insisted, only feeling a little childish
for doing so. pinkie swearing was something they used to do all the time as
kids, and they had outgrown it by the time they entered middle school. As a
couple of eight year old boys, pinkie swearing was something they did when one
of them did something stupid (like taking all of the screws out of their evil
teacher's chair and hiding them in a jar of red cabbage) and didn't want the
other to tell. When they turned twelve they were going through that humiliating
“I'm a big kid now” phase and thought it was for babies. Now they were
seventeen and in love, doomed to be separated, so now it felt like it really
was what it was supposed to symbolize: a promise. It was something special
between them, as if this one tiny little gesture would forever link them (and,
yes, Thomas knew how stupid that sounded).
Newt is quiet for a moment, a contemplating look on his face, and once he sighs
in obvious defeat he raises his hand and entwines Thomas' pinkie with his own.
Despite his protests, the smile on his lips betrayed any embarrassment he
pretended to have before. “Fine. You win, but I'm holding you to that promise.
You better come back, or I'll go over to California myself and kick your ass.”
“It warms my heart to know how much faith you have in me,” Thomas teased,
leaning in for another kiss.
They didn't say much after that, Newt burying his face in Thomas' neck and
Thomas rubbing little circles unto the blond's back comfortingly. He was going
to miss this. Every night after tonight was going to be spent tossing and
turning, aching for Newt's presence, for his touch. He just had to hold on to
the hope that maybe, just maybe, he could talk his parents into letting him
board a plane or a train or whatever as often as he could to see Newt. He knew
the cost, and he knew it was selfish, but he didn't care. He loved Newt, and
the idea of his life without him in it made his heart ache.
“Please come back,” Newt whispered.
“I'll come back,” Thomas assured him again, kissing the top of his head. “I
promise.”
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
End Notes
     Okay, so I have no idea why I wrote this. I'm hilariously out of
     touch with writing smut (especially gay smut), but I'm still
     relatively pleased with how this turned out. The ending was probably
     my favorite part to write. Let me know what you guys think, if you'd
     like to see more in the future, and feel free to give me constructive
     criticism.
     Thank you!
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