strings // newtmas au

damned if I do ya (damned if I don't)

"Wanna help me finish the pasta I made last night?"

Newt nodded as he leaned against the armchair.

Thomas grabbed the tupperware from the fridge and put it in the microwave. "Hey uh, Newt?" Thomas asked as he turned around to look at the blonde boy who was typing something on his phone.

"Yeah?"

"Minho said something else."

"And what was that?"

"Should we be doing stuff?"

"Doing stuff?"

"You know what kinda stuff," Thomas said, feeling his cheeks heat up.

Newt's eyes widened in realization. "Oh uh, I don't know, we're taking it slow."

"Okay," Thomas said, pushing down the weird feeling of disappointment he felt. "Yeah you're right."

They didn't say anything else as Thomas got the pasta and brought it over to the coffee table. For some reason there was an awkward tension in the air. Thomas was scared to talk. The only sound between them was the occasional slurping of the pasta noodles.

Newt spoke suddenly. "Do you wanna be doing stuff?"

Thomas was blushing again, he looked down at the container and shoveleved another forkful of pasta in his mouth. "Do you?"

Thomas finally looked up at Newt. He was staring at a fixed spot on the floor, not moving, like he was lost in thought.

Almost like a switch was flipped, something changed in Newt. He stood up quick, dropping his fork on the table.

"Fuck it!" He exclaimed as he started pacing back and forth. "I know slow was my idea but I'm dying here Tommy! You touch me all the time and bloody hell it shouldn't work me up as much as it does but every damn time you let me sit on your lap and put your hand on my leg I feel like I'm going to explode." Newt grabbed at his hair. "I mean fuck you don't understand how attracted I am to you! I know I make fun of you for what you told me while drunk but fuck Tommy I'm doin the same thing here. Do you know how many times I had to restrain myself from ripping your fucking clothes off or shoving my hand down your pants because we're taking it slow. Bloody hell in the basement when you climbed onto my lap after I sang to you, do you know what that did to me. I had to use every ounce of my willpower not to cum in my pants like a bloody horny teenager." Newt let out a frustrated sound. "Two months Tommy, it's been two months and I've barely even kissed you properly. I'm actually losing my mind, you're making me lose my mind. The worst part is that you don't even do anything. You just stand there and look so unfairly attractive..." Newt took a deep breath. "Fuck slow."

"Don't fuck slow," Thomas said slowly as he stood up and looked at Newt. "Fuck me."

"What?"

"Kiss me how you wanna kiss me Newt."

Newt hesitated for a mere second before practically slamming him against the wall and kissing him with everything he had.

In that minute Thomas learned three things. First, Newt really liked biting. Two, Thomas really liked it when Newt bit him. And three, Newt was really fucking good at kissing.

Newt was kissing him hard enough to bruise, he put his hand on the back of Thomas' thigh. Thomas got the memo and jumped up, hooking his legs around Newt's waist. Newt pushed him harder into the wall so it would hold most of his weight and he could push up the hem of Thomas' shirt. The fourth thing he learned was that Newt liked rough kissing and the fifth was that he really wasn't opposed to it either.