"12th grade sucks, man," Thomas declared under his breath as he stared at the massive cock mere metres before him. It was hanging in just about eye-level, and the owner clearly made no effort to cover himself up. What would he do that for, though – he got his money for being naked.
"Do tell me more, Tommy," Newt turned to him, a sarcastic smile on his lips, although he was unashamedly curious about Thomas' thoughts. "Sounds interesting, how you're saying this staring at someone's dick."
Thomas almost spat at that comment, finally tearing his gaze from the model's body to look Newt dead in the eyes. "Don't worry, the only dick I care about is yours," he said, blinking rapidly, to appear even more innocent. The different hues of pink and red pastels on his face did it for him long ago, though. "Okay, maybe mine, too, but you get the point."
"Yeah, absolutely," he nodded, and picked up a dark blue chalk of pastel as he turned back to his sketch. He decided to experiment that day. "You wash down there like twice a week and touch yourself a lot?"
"I wash every day," he scoffed, and suddenly wished for the model to return to his original position.
"You didn't correct me on the second part," Newt said, and Thomas swore he heard both the smile and the suggestive eyebrow raise in his voice.
"Not like you don't know."
"Not like I'm not disappointed about it," he sighed dramatically, and held the pause for a few seconds more, just to watch the confusion on the younger's face. "I'd rather touch you instead."
Thomas was just about to answer when Teresa chided in, holding her piece of charcoal alarmingly close to Thomas' face. "We get it, guys, everybody ships you, but can you make this already awkward situation a little… less awkward?"
"You find this situation awkward?" Their heads all snapped towards the source of the voice, but the sight presented to them was so absurd they had to choke back a laugh.
The teacher, Ms Paige, in her crisp white outfit despite the rain of colourful pastel dust flying around stood before them – and close behind her was the butt-naked model with his hands on his hips, raising his eyebrows so high it made his eyes widen like a maniac's. Teresa let her shoulders slump a bit in shame.
"It's okay, Teresa," Ms Paige said, unsettlingly calmly, "It's not a big deal. It's just like any other body part, you just draw what you see. In proportion. Not smaller or bigger. I get it's a stressful situation, you don't want to hurt his self-esteem, but there's no need to exaggerate."
Thomas could barely hold back his cackle by the time she finished talking, and he couldn't decide what was funnier: Ms Paige believing she was of any help, or Teresa desperately trying not to cry from frustration and suppressed laughter. The teacher finally left when she decided she got her message through after Teresa nodded stiffly, but the model stayed for a little longer, leaning uncomfortably close to her.
"I can wear a thong next time if it helps," he whispered, loud enough for the boys to hear as well. Teresa would've been thankful had it not been for the awkwardly sensual way the man said that, and let out a huge breath when he finally went back to his phone again.
"That'd actually be sexy," Newt wondered, successfully smudging dark blue on his chin as he did so. "On you," he corrected as soon as he saw the bewilderment on Thomas' face.
"So, what're you guys doing for the exhibition?" Minho asked, swinging his legs over a table as he opened his lunchbox and got a slice of pizza out. A crumpled one, but still pizza.
"Fo' zhe wha'?" Thomas asked back, his mouth full of food.
Newt frowned at him, "You're disgusting."
"You love me."
"For the exhibition," Minho repeated, uncaring of the little display of 'affection'.
"We still don't get it, Min," Newt informed him after a dragged-out silence – in which only Thomas' loud chewing was audible.
"Have you not heard?"
"Apparently, no," he glared, and rolled his eyes when it got to him that there's probably yet another project shoved upon them, just before graduation.
"I see it's not a hot story yet, then," Minho nodded in ironic approval, not even surprised anymore. "Some fancy people are visiting the mayor next month and they want to decorate the Town Hall with art done by art students to represent the artsy youth or something."
"Well, blow me," Newt huffed, leaning back against the wall. Thomas' eyes roamed him up and down.
"Right here, right now?"
Newt wanted to make a retort but Minho's off-key singing cut him off, "Stand my ground and never back dooown!"
"What the fuck—"
"That's so 2010, dude," Thomas cringed, and immediately had Minho gasping in defense.
"It's a great song!"
"Whatever."
They had a full thirty seconds to eat in silence before the doors flew open and the head teacher of the art department burst into the room, panting as if he had run a marathon. "Where's Ava?"
"We don't know," Newt blinked in surprise, barely managing to swallow the bite he had just taken before answering Mr Janson. He looked at them somewhat disbelievingly, and almost left with just that when his eyes fell on Minho.
"You!"
"Me?" he asked, eyes wide with surprise as he pointed at himself with his free hand.
"Yes, you're from my group, are you not? What are you doing here?"
"I'm eating?"
"Go back to class, what were you even thinking?"
"With all due respect, it's lunch break," he said warily, although sarcasm was dripping from his words.
"'Lunch break'," he scoffed, crossing his arms before his chest, but said nothing as he left – for real, this time.
Thomas turned to Minho questioningly, and, for once, swallowed his food before opening his mouth, "What's up with him again?"
"No idea, man," he shrugged in confusion, letting out a half-hearted chuckle. He was so done with school he couldn't wait for the remaining thirty weeks to pass. "Probably the exhibition."
"Is it that big of a deal?" Thomas whined. "We had like… two successful exhibitions already."
"Yeah, and we attempted at least five times that many," Newt reminded him, glaring, although with a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Thomas waved a hand dismissively, unwilling to acknowledge their failures, even though some of them were almost hilarious. Almost. But rather ridiculous.
"You know, I can sorta see what has his panties in a twist," Minho started, but Newt cut him off with a snicker.
"I don't think that saying applies for guys."
"Well, now it does, let me finish," he insisted, and cleared his throat for authority. "I mean, he's head of the art department. Important person among local artists. People in this industry know his name—"
"Bloody great for them, we don't, and he's been teaching us for four years," Newt cut in again, and Minho gave him a hard glare, but he didn't blink an eye. "I googled him and found nothing. So much about 'well-known artists'."
"You must have a lot of free time," Thomas blinked in admiration.
Minho stared at Newt for what felt like an eternity before he spoke up again, "I change my mind. Newt has his panties in a twist, not Janson. Dude, what's wrong?"
"I have a guess," Thomas replied smugly, and stared Newt down so obviously it almost made him blush. Not like he had a reason to.
"Can you not—"
"It's nothing," Newt retorted, smacking Thomas on the knee.
Minho raised his hands defensively, "I can leave you alone if you want me to."
"Nah, why don't you just join us? The more the merrier," Thomas winked at him, and Minho couldn't decide if he wanted to laugh or to scurry away as soon as possible. Newt huffed.
"I'm offended, Tommy."
"You know I'm joking," he pouted, and rubbed Newt's thigh apologetically with his clean hand – the other was covered in mustard and God-knows-what.
"You wouldn't want me in bed with you?" Minho said, dropping his jaw, then laughed as he leaned back in his chair again. "Just joking, I wouldn't want me in bed with me either," he shrugged, "I already have me in bed."
"And you say we're disgusting," Thomas deadpanned, and looked at Newt for comfort but he looked just as disappointed.
"I never said you were disgusting, I just asked you not to—"
"You implied."
"What's with you two not letting me speak today?"
"We never actually wanted you to speak in the first place," Newt started, scratching his chin, "we just had enough now."
"Took us long enough," Thomas muttered, making sure Minho heard it anyway – and he earned an offended snap, just as he had expected.
"I'm starting to be happy about not being in the same group as you two are," he rolled his eyes, and stuffed the remainder of his pizza into his mouth before standing up.
"What, you're leaving now?" Thomas looked up at him in confusion, suddenly afraid they went too far with the teasing.
"Yeah," he nodded, raising his chin just a little higher than necessary. "A man's gotta pee, has he not? Guess you don't want to join me in that."
"Actually…" Newt pondered, and jumped up from his seat just as Thomas was about to continue the insults, relieved that Minho wasn't mad.
"I don't think Minho needs assistance with that," he furrowed his brows, looking from one of them to the other. Newt's suggestive gaze landed on him immediately.
"Don't be jelly, Tommy," he said, and stopped, seeming to think, then added, with a smirk: "Not yet."
Ms Paige was back sooner than usual after lunch break, announcing, with a seemingly annoyed expression, that Mr Janson would be paying a visit soon and that she hopes they all will be working when he arrives. A few displeased grunts erupted from various members of the class, but it didn't take them long to settle back onto their drawing benches again, after all.
"What the hell is the man up to again?" Teresa asked, leaning closer to Thomas once he angled the board on his lap. The model hadn't resided back to his chair yet, and she decided it was the perfect opportunity to get some gossip.
"Minho says there'll be an exhibition in the Town Hall next month," Thomas whispered, glancing repeatedly in the teacher's direction, but she seemed busy scribbling in her planner. "Some big ass dudes from the government visiting the mayor or something, and they want us to do the decoration."
"And they specifically asked for the seniors?" she whined, thinking about all the other responsibilities still waiting for them. For example, prom was coming up in two months and they had absolutely no idea what to do for it.
"If you think 'bout it," Frypan said as he poked his head between them, "we have been here the longest, so they assume we make the best art at this school. Too bad the freshmen have far more dedication."
"Yeah, but who'd want to deal with them at an exhibition? Hyper little ankle-biters," Newt joined in, but didn't turn to them, instead fiddled with his pastels. Teresa bit her lip to suppress a laugh, and Thomas' head snapped to face him.
"Hey, not all of them are that bad! There's Chuck, he's kinda cool," he said, coming to the chubby boy's defense immediately. He was the son of a friend of his father's or something like that, and Thomas had known him for a while – although he admitted the kid could be annoying sometimes.
"Ya mean disco ball hair biffa from Photography?" Newt hummed, and had everyone else in the conversation fall silent for a moment, trying to figure out what he had just said. It'd been four years since they moved from Britain and Newt still spoke as if he were reading a Chinese textbook sometimes.
Thomas was the first to decide it needn't have been important if he could still answer the question without understanding, and nodded, "Yeah, the chubby boy with the curls, and he's, y'know, overexcited sometimes. A lot, actually."
"Oh, I know him!" Teresa finally remembered, but her expression fell almost immediately. "He was the guy who spilled ink over my folder in September."
"Oh my God, and he's still alive?" Frypan cackled, earning nothing but an eye-roll from Teresa and a pitying look from Thomas.
"I don't kill everyone who wrongs me," she protested, "Newt is still very much alive."
The said blond frowned at her disbelievingly, "What have I done?"
"I'd like to ask you the same question, Newt," Ms Paige said, clearing her throat as she tapped two fingers against the top of his drawing board. "What have you done so far today?"
He sighed and put the chalks aside, turning the board around to show her his artwork – a practically empty paper, but if he were to be scolded, he'd at least admit to not doing anything in the previous four hours. "This."
Ms Paige closed her eyes for a second to keep from pinching the bridge of her nose. Damn seniors thinking they can do any damn thing.
"Graduation is coming up, you know that," was all she said before walking off, her retreating form holding all the exasperation she probably felt then.
"Sometimes, I feel sorry for her," Thomas started, staring into the distance as if deep in thought, "then I realize she's not the one graduating this year."
Gradually, they fell into an easy silence, almost all of them deciding to listen to music instead while they continued drawing. It didn't necessarily keep them from talking to each other, but at least they could pretend they didn't even hear Frypan when he cracked another terrible joke. Thomas got so involved in perfecting the details of the model's face he didn't even see when Mr Janson barged into the room – the next thing he knew the man was running around like a poisoned rat, and Thomas couldn't help but admire how fitting it was.
"Okay, listen up," Mr Janson started, after finally doing his usual rounds of making unreadable faces at everyone's papers, "Where is…" he continued, then froze, looking down at the sorry excuse of a jotter in his hands, "Aris?"
Ms Paige opened her mouth to say something but whatever it was died on her lips, and she looked around the class for help instead. Most of them stared back at her in either confusion or amusement before Thomas took it upon him to answer, "In the other group, Mr Janson."
"Alright, I'll go ask their teacher later, let's move on, then," he said, and by that moment everyone was sure he had no idea whom he had been teaching for the past four years. "Is Newt here?"
"Yes," he said, cautiously raising an eyebrow. Wherever the conversation was to go from there, he already didn't like it.
"Good, I'm more than expecting some of your Indian ink pieces," he nodded towards him, and was already back to reading his notes by the time Newt registered what he had said.
"They're counting on you, man," Thomas whispered with a proud smirk on his lips as he leaned closer. Newt startled at being jerked out of his thoughts, but once he realized who was talking to him, he let his shoulders relax, and Thomas rested his chin in the crook of his neck. "That's so cool. It's a big thing."
Newt let out a sigh and was already gathering his thoughts to answer when Rachel cut in, "Excuse me, what's this all about?"
"Haven't I told you already?" Mr Janson asked, his expression so stern it made her retreat immediately.
"No, not my group," Ms Paige replied instead of her, and he shot her a sharp glance for claiming a say in what he thought of as his business, but explained nonetheless.
"Some agents from the government are visiting the mayor next month about financing the renewal of five secondary schools around the state, and ours is on the list of the nominated. Of course, we will have to do everything to make them think this is among the worthiest, and what a better way than to show them the incredible art you kids do here?"
"Thank God it's Friday," Minho sighed as he threw the doors open and stepped outside, then held it for Thomas and Newt. "Can't wait to spend the weekend sleeping, man, gonna be soo refreshing."
"Did I just hear what I heard?" a voice called from behind them, and Minho fumbled to catch the door before it slammed in Teresa's face.
"You just answered for yourself," he pointed out, but she didn't seem to care. Thomas and Newt were already a few steps ahead, turning back around in confusion when they noticed Minho wasn't with them. It was replaced by that sense of knowing, though, as soon as they saw Teresa standing close to him while the girls quickly walked outside. They exchanged a grin, and decided to eavesdrop on whatever was going on – in plain sight.
"You haven't forgotten me, though, right?" she asked, pouting slightly. Minho shook his head quickly, and let go of the door when Lizzy stepped out lastly. She hurried over to the boys as soon as she noticed them, swinging her arms around their shoulders.
"You guys need a ride home?" she asked, shepherding them away from the scenario at the doors. So, she knew what was going on.
She shook her head in disbelief when her brother shot her a confused look and rolled her eyes, "It's Friday, I'm guessing Thomas boy here is staying over, right?"
"Ah, yeah, right," he hummed, and looked at Thomas for suggestions, but he just shrugged. "Can you drop us off at a shop? We'll walk from there, we just need—"
"Yup, no need to explain," she nodded, a little too eagerly, and turned back around to blow some kisses to her friends before she switched places with Newt, so that he could continue holding Thomas' hand.
"It's nothing like that," Newt scowled, and Lizzy gasped, smacking his arm.
"Why not? Safe sex is important!"
Thomas burst out laughing and Newt quickly smacked her back to shut her up, but Lizzy only kept grinning. "Can you be any louder?"
"I can try, let me just—"
"No," he shook his head and quickly covered her mouth with his palm, smearing most of her sparkly lip gloss over it.
"Relax," she mumbled, barely understandable from under his fingers. "You're not the only gay one here."
Newt's eyes widened at that and he retracted his hand immediately, looking at her as if he had seen a ghost, yet somewhat curious at the same time. "You mean…"
"Yeah, Thomas is here as well, how could you forget?" she teased, but stole a quick glance at Harriet walking behind them with the others nonetheless. She just hoped Newt didn't see it.
"Yeah, how could you forget?" Thomas was suspiciously quick to react, probably because he caught Lizzy's stolen peek and got too excited to think of anything else when he saw Newt turn to him, pouting and opening his mouth to apologize. He seemed to change his mind when he saw his sparkling eyes, though.
"What's that?" he asked instead, turning back around, but Lizzy was facing forward again by the time he looked in her direction.
"I just saw a puppy," he said, and mentally slapped himself when he took a quick look around and realized there were no dogs in sight. Newt scoffed, but didn't push the topic.
The rest of the walk to the car was quiet – the full ten seconds –, and even in there, Lizzy was the first one to speak, "By 'dropping you off at a shop' you meant dropping you off at the closest shop, right?"
"Yeah, we'd appreciate it if you didn't bloody throw us out in the opposite end of town," Newt replied, closing the door as he got into the car and fastened his seatbelt. He caught Thomas smile at his wording from the corner of his eyes.
"Too bad, I was considering," she sighed, and ignited the engine. Most of the agonizingly slow and long ride in the traffic was spent fighting over the radio channel, but the final outcome didn't please Newt in the slightest – Thomas and Lizzy had agreed on listening to Beyoncé and the beat of Single Ladies was driving him crazy.
Sometimes, he felt like Thomas had become too much of a family member already; at least when he and his sister were picking on him, that is.
They quickly waved her goodbye when she parked the car in front of the little local shop, and hurried inside. It was looking like rain and, as romantic and exciting it seemed for Thomas and Newt, respectively, they didn't want to get completely soaked. They strolled down the short corridor of sweets before they got to the freezers and split up immediately, looking for their usual deep-frozen pizza, but both ended up with empty hands at either ends of the row.
They exchanged a confused look as they walked back to each other, Newt talking first, "Nothing?"
"Yeah. Any other idea?" Thomas looked around them but he wasn't exactly familiar with the little shop as they usually went to the one a few streets down when they needed something, and Newt seemed rather puzzled about the other options.
"All I'm seeing is frozen peas, but if that's what you're into…" he teased, pointing at the irrationally large bag of deep-frozen vegetables.
Thomas grimaced, and walked a few steps down the row, "What I'm into is definitely not frozen peas, but is definitely very close to me right now," he said thoughtfully, and Newt raised a questioning eyebrow. "It's fries."
Of course.
"Right, get those, then," he huffed, but couldn't keep from smiling to himself as he fished out his wallet from his backpack.
"I forgot something," Thomas said suddenly, his head snapping up and making Newt startle, but his worries soon vanished when he walked up to him and kissed him on the lips – only to sneak his cold hand under his jacket's collar and not let him go when he tried to squirm away from the touch. "For forgetting about me back there," he added with a smirk when he finally pulled back.