strings // newtmas au

even if she falls

"I'm not looking at you like anything."

"You are, you have that disproving look on your face."

"It's bad for you."

Newt rolled his eyes as he took another puff but this time he put the cigarette out in the ashtray and left it there. "You like video games?"

Thomas nodded.

"Call of Duty?"

"Sure."

Newt smiled. "Let's go fuck up some zombies."

They played call of duty with Minho for a few hours on the small couch. Thomas could barely focus because they had to squish together and every part of Newt was touching every part of Thomas. When they died Newt would scream "bloody hell" and cross his arms which was oddly adorable. Newt's legs ended up on top of Thomas' at one point which almost sent Thomas into full blown cardiac arrest. Thomas said he had to go before dinner. He desperately needed to get started on his homework.

"You ever ridden a motorcycle before Tommy?" Newt asked as he laced up his boots.

Thomas shook his head.

"Awesome," Newt said as he put on a black jacket and zipped it up. He handed Thomas a helmet. "You gotta wear that okay?"

Thomas nodded and put it on.

Newt huffed out a laugh. "You gotta buckle it." Newt's hands brushed his neck as he hooked the buckle under Thomas' chin. It sent chills down Thomas' spine.

Newt got onto the bike, turning the key which made the engine hum to life. Newt patted the back of the bike.

"Hop on."

Thomas couldn't lie and say he wasn't nervous because he definitely was but he carefully slid onto the bike anyways.

"Hold on okay?"

Thomas slid his arms around Newt's waist, praying to every greater power above that Newt couldn't feel his heart pounding.

Newt started it up and pulled out of the garage. Once they got onto the street Newt sped up which made Thomas just squeeze him tighter. He could feel Newt shaking with laughter as he sped down the street. After Thomas got over the fear factor he decided that he liked motorcycles. He sat up a little straighter, watching the houses fly by. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. Just like Newt was.

When they finally got to Thomas' house Newt pulled in the driveway and turned the bike off. He helped Thomas get off, holding his hand briefly. Thomas swore he almost stopped breathing. Thomas pulled off the helmet, frowning when Newt laughed.

"Your hairs a mess," he said softly as he reached over and ran his fingers through it.

Thomas probably looked like a deer in headlights. Newt had his hands in his fucking hair.

"Thanks," Thomas choked out as Newt smiled at his work.

"You busy Friday?" Newt asked as he ran his fingers through his own hair.

"I don't think so why?"

"We're playing a new place. You should come."

"Okay, yeah, I'll go."

Newt looked happy, Thomas wanted to grab his face and kiss him.

"I'll see ya later Tommy," Newt said as he got back on the bike.

"Bye," Thomas said as Newt fake saluted him before putting the helmet back on and taking off down the street.

Thomas hurried back into his apartment, immediately ripping off his hoodie. It was too hot and he was high on Newt.

He grabbed his laptop and threw himself down onto his couch. He opened up the internet with the intent of starting his homework but ended up googling "WICKED Newt" instead. Thomas groaned when he saw the flood of pictures of the blonde. Newt was painfully hot, he remembered what it felt like to have his arms around him, to be pressed up against him on the couch. He replayed Newt's hands being in his hair and that stupid dopey smile he gave him when he agreed to go to his show. He fell on a picture of Newt at a show. His shirt was off and he was sweaty, his hair was in his face and he had on an extremely flattering pair of skinny jeans. He was partially bent over, playing his guitar with such focus. Thomas couldn't take it. He grabbed the box of tissues from his end table and looked at the picture again. Fuck it.

He undid his belt and throught about nothing but Newt for the next ten minutes.

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