No Better Version of Me Than When I'm With You

Chapter 12

"The fuck you mean you don't know?"

"I mean I don't know!"

Thomas went silent, glaring at him. He could practically see the wheels spinning in his head. God how Newt wished he could read his thoughts. Several tense seconds passed until Thomas spoke. "You know what? Fine. I'll make it real easy for both of us. Fucking. . . come here."

Then without any warning at all, lips crashed into his in a rough and desperate kiss, hands holding his face. A far cry from the accidental brush of mouths some time ago, a touch only meant for comfort. This was something raw, an open wound they were only digging into until it undid him.

He was being kissed.

By Thomas.

Tommy was kissing him.

Newt's brain processed too slowly, unable to react in any way before deep brown eyes met his from inches away, a mixture of expectancy and anguish written all over him. "Well?" Tommy's voice was a harsh whisper.

"I-" he tried to reply, but the words seemed lodged in his throat. His mind raced a million miles an hour, attempting to process what had just happened and how he felt about it. His body thrummed with adrenaline, his heart hammered in his chest, his stomach was somersaulting like it was in the Olympics - was he lightheaded or did he feel giddy all of a sudden? Anger seeped away, replaced by a sudden need to tell Thomas everything he hadn't been saying. Everything he had only just fully realized himself.

He was in love with him, damn it all.

But he'd arrived at that conclusion too late once again, and Thomas' fingers slid from his cheeks to his chest, pushing against him to walk away.

For the second time that morning, he didn't let him. He caught him by the wrist and for a few moments, Thomas didn't turn around.

"He was right." Newt admitted quietly, staring hard at the back of his head. "At least, he was right about me."

The tension fell out of Thomas' shoulders and the fight seemed to leave him. Newt didn't let go as he turned back around to face him.

"Was he right about you, too?" Newt asked, hating the hope in his voice, how plainly he was wearing his heart on his sleeve just then. But if he couldn't hold his heart in his hands and offer it to Tommy, who else could he offer it to? Everyone else paled in comparison.

"Um . .yeah. He was." Thomas replied, voice going sheepish and somewhat startled, as if he too, had just come to the same realization as Newt.

"Well don't get all shy now, Tommy. Come back here and prove it."

From one moment to the next he was pulled tightly against Thomas, one hand around his waist and another at the nape of his neck as they turned and now he was the one pinned to the counter when he was kissed again just as desperately as before, but this time with purpose and meaning and utter abandon.

It was as if they had thrown off the shackles they had put on themselves and every restraint was gone. He loved Tommy, and Tommy loved him. They weren't just platonic soulmates, they weren't just best friends, they were that and more. Everything in him burned at the realization, turning to ashes every excuse he had ever given to convince himself and others that he didn't love him like that. How had he been so blind?

"So much for our pact, huh?" Tommy chuckled quietly when he pulled away, sounding as breathless as Newt felt. His hands stayed firmly where they had risen to pull him in by his hips, and it didn't escape his notice that Thomas hadn't moved either, fingers now playing gently with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Minho's gonna lose his bloody mind."

"Oh, shit," Thomas groaned through another laugh, resting his forehead against his own, "they all made that bet and here we are having beat all of them to the mark."

"I think they'll get over it." Newt chuckled, relishing in the warmth of all the points of contact between them. "Also, uh, I didn't mean what I said before. That it's all your fault we're in this. It's not, and also it's not a bad thing either. I think we both knew, on some level, why we really did this."

"It's okay, Newt, really." Thomas replied. "I mean we got here in the end, right?"

"That we did."

------

"You know what seems so obvious now, looking back?" Thomas asked a few days later as they lounged on the couch that evening after work.

"What?" Newt looked at him and fought back the automatic smile seeing his husband brought on.

"That I was jealous of Nick from the first time you mentioned him, but had literally zero clue why until our revelation on Saturday."

Newt laughed, "I felt the same about you and George."

"How did we take this long to get here? Everyone was telling us point-blank but somehow both of us refused to believe it." Thomas shifted closer, letting his fingers trace a pattern on his arm until they drifted down to tangle with his own. Newt closed his hand around Tommy's and squeezed.

"It's that pact we made. Kept us from seeing how we'd changed, I guess." Newt answered.

"Yeah, that makes sense."

They were both quiet for some time, each lost in their thoughts. Not much had changed, really. It was only the admission of romantic love instead of platonic, and the breaking of the pact they'd made so long ago. But it felt right, to be with Tommy in this way - now that they'd come to that realization. Their 'revelation' as he liked to call it. It was easier than ever to call him his husband, and any of the guilt he'd felt over wearing or not wearing his ring had evaporated. He never wanted to take it off. Newt frequently saw Thomas fidgeting with his own and smiling down at it as if he couldn't really believe what happened.

On a Saturday morning in early September, he had confessed his love to Tommy and vice versa - and while it had been earth-shattering at the time, it was now just a gentle recalibration of the way he saw his best friend. They had adapted to it easily, as nothing much needed to change to make room for the realized feelings. And wasn't that how it should be, after all?