Newt/Thomas Sangster One Shots (warning: smut)

One shot #19 ~ Jealousy

"Thomas? You home?" I yelled as I walked into our apartment. The place was very quiet, so I didn't expect him to be home.
"That's what I thought," I muttered to myself, disappointed after anticipating seeing him after such a long day at work.

I decided to take a shower and relax a little, but as time went on, I began to worry as to where he was. Six o'Clock turned to half past, and seven o'Clock turned to ten. I'd tried calling him four times, none of which he answered to.

I waited until half ten until I began to worry. He should've been home way before me, and it was dark outside.

Maybe he was at a friend's house? Maybe he didn't have service? I couldn't be sure of anything, but worrying wouldn't get me anywhere. He was a big boy now, he could take care of himself. I laughed at the thought.

I went to bed at eleven, just hoping I'd see him tomorrow.

3:01AM
I awoke to a loud banging downstairs. My breath caught in my throat, and my hand gripped the bedsheet.

I looked next to me to see an empty mattress. I was alone, or so I hoped.

I grabbed a cricket bat from under the bed and crept toward the landing. My arms tensed up, holding the wooden bat behind me.

Another crash downstairs, a glass bottle breaking. I froze for a second, then jogged downstairs quietly.

"Thomas! You scared the crap out of me," I sighed relief and dropped the bat on the floor, "where've you been? I was worried..." I laughed, coming closer to him.
"Hey, love," he mocked, his breath smelling like gin. I stopped in my tracks, keeping my distance.
"Have you been drinking..?" I asked, scanning his dark features.
"Maybe, what is it to you?" He asked bitterly.
"Well...," I swallowed, taken aback by his tone, "I just wondered why you weren't home and I was worried because it was dark, and you didn't answer any of my calls," I began to panic, not entirely sure who this Thomas was.

"Well, maybe if you hadn't spent all your time with Dylan, I wouldn't need to drink," he slurred and made his way to the kitchen.
"You're...jealous?" I asked in disbelief, "why? I've been spending more time with him because I haven't seen him in forever, Thomas," I reasoned.

"Oh really? Not because you're cheating on me with the bloody scumbag?" He shouted, slamming his hand on the countertop violently.
"Thomas stop, you're scaring me," I backed away, shrinking under his gaze, "I don't understand why you think that," I backed until my back hit the stove.

"I see the way he looks at you. He'd get you drunk and fuck you sideways if he had the chance, you should know that," he spat.
"And you think I'm like that? You really think I'd do that to you, Thomas?" Tears swam in my eyes in embarrassment.
Thomas opened his mouth for a second, as if to say something, but nothing came out. I saw a glimmer of moisture in his eyes, reflecting off the moonlight coming in through the kitchen window.
"Then what the fuck did you mean?" I cried in anger.
"No, wait, come here-" He began to regret what he said, coming toward me.
"No, Thomas, get away from me," I slid my back across the counter until I felt nothing, then scurried upstairs, not looking back.
"Come back..." He said, his voice wavering.

I slammed the door behind me, locking it shut. I climbed into bed and buried my face in his pillow, trying to remember Thomas the way I wanted to.

I woke with a start. I shivered at the cool breeze washing in through the window. The duvet had fallen on the floor, and the tear-soaked pillow made my face feel raw. I got up slowly, grimacing at the full ache in my neck.

I got up and unlocked the bedroom door, almost jumping out of my skin to see Thomas fall back with a thump. I stepped backward as he awoke with quite a fright.

He sat up, his shoulders and back still from sleeping against the door.
"What're you doing here, Thomas?" I demanded, trying to sound strong, but failing miserably.

He got up quickly, a guilty look plastered across his face. I crossed my arms and waited for an explanation.

"I wasn't thinking straight-"
"No shit," I laughed bitterly.
"I mean, I shouldn't have been drinking. I know that, but...I was just," he paused, sighing, "jealous. Jealous of Dylan, of how much time he could spend with you, jealous of...I don't know," he finished, his voice wavering again.

"You scared me, Thomas," I stated.
"I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen," He stepped closer to me silently, "Please forgive me,"

His hand rested on my cheek, his face and hair a mess, and his thumb wiped away tears.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispered, his blotchy face staring at mine.

I let out a long breath.
"You won't find out," I finished.