his boy // newtmas & dylmas oneshots

runaways ~ dylmas

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A transport truck was driving beside them, a little bit behind. It had been there for a while, keeping a constant speed with them down the highway. The woman driving it had purple hair and a tough, no-nonsense look to her, which made the next few moments surprising to Thomas.

"Hey, Dyl?" He turned to Thomas, who had a look in his eye that made Dylan suspicious. "I have an idea, don't freak out."  

"What are you gonna do?" Dylan frowned as Thomas rolled down the window.

"Watch, kay?" He unbuckled his seatbelt and hoisted himself almost all the way out of the window, holding onto the roof for balance.

"Thomas!" Dylan's heart stopped and he tried to drive with one hand while the other reached for his best friend's waist. If Thomas fell and died, it'd be the end of his world.

Showing no fear of leaning over the highway, Thomas lifted an arm and waved, signalling the driver. The woman looked, and he pumped his fist up and down. The woman smiled and pulled her horn, the truck letting out a loud honk. Thomas cheered, flashed her a thumbs up, and ducked back into the car.

"Damn, that was great." He had an exhilarated smile on his face, his blond hair all wind-blown. "I didn't even think she'd see me, i mean, that was a pretty big truck and we must be so little from where she's sitting-"

"You dumbass, you could've died!" Dylan tried to sound angry but he had a playful grin across his face. "Plus, who wouldn't have noticed someone leaning out of their car, waving like an idiot?"

"Shut it." There was a softness in Thomas' eyes, and his smile was real. He didn't look so anxious or upset. They were only a day into their vacation, and it was already helping him piece his life back together. It was silent for a few moments, the radio playing that one Ed Sheeran song everyone seemed to like. Dylan became aware of the fact that his hand was still on Thomas' waist, and he panicked a little. Not because his hand was on his waist, no, that felt good and familiar. Because Thomas may not feel the same, and he didn't quite feel like confronting those feelings currently.

"Dylan, I need to peee," the blond boy turned to him, whining. It broke him out of his thoughts and he just shook his head and laughed. He was glad that Thomas had said anything though, and he pulled his hand away, resting it on the wheel to make a turn.

"I'll watch for a rest stop."

They drove ten more minutes until Dylan found one, driving slower and slower up the driveway.

"Dylan, I'm going to fucking explode. Hurry up." Dylan just quirked his brows and went slower. 
As soon as the car rolled to a stop, Thomas practically flew out of the door. He was inside the building before Dylan even got out of the car.  

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Warning: Homophobia

"How may I help you?" The man at the desk of the hotel they were looking to stay at for the night greeted them with a sneer. He was older, his hair as white as the paint on the walls. He had stared at the boys as they walked in with obvious disgust. They thought it was because they were laughing quite loudly and being sort of disruptive, but the reason why soon became clear.

"We're looking for somewhere to sleep for the night, got any open rooms?" Dylan gave the man a smile, setting the drink they were sharing on the counter to get out his wallet.

"Will you be needing two?"

"Just one, thanks," Thomas said and matched Dylan's sweet grin, as much as the man rubbed him the wrong way. As he punched it into his computer, the man looked as though them sharing a room was the nastiest thing he'd ever heard.