Thomas had repositioned the chair up against the wall. The previous occupant had either not been smart enough to do this, or had been and overturned it in their hasty exit.
The first hour passed, and Thomas felt boredom creep in and disperse like fog from dry ice. By hour number two, he wanted to bang his head against the wall. Two hours after that, he he'd begun to think that having dinner with Gally and the Grievers would beat sitting inside that stupid Slammer.
Thankfully, Newt arrived with lunch at noon, relieving Thomas from his thoughts.
"I'm supposed to pass this through the window," he said unlocking the door, "but this is also kind of my excuse to come and see you." He came in smiling warmly and closed the door behind him. Just like before, Thomas removed himself from the chair, crossing his legs in the floor next to it and Newt sat the chicken and a glass of water in his place.
"I can't stay long," Newt said, as if he were displeased by the thought. He sat cross legged in front of Thomas, placing his knees against the younger boy's. "This is your reward for breakin' the rules. You saved some lives, but—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Order," Thomas mumbled as he leaned forward and kissed Newt. It was intended to be a soft, quick peck, something to cut off the lecture Thomas could sense coming, but Newt seemed to have been waiting for it. He passionately accepted for a moment, his hands making light squeezes down Thomas side. Then he pulled back.
"I shouldn't be doing this," he whispered with a shake of his head, eyes still closed.
"You want this," Thomas said kindly but pointedly. "Or else you wouldn't have come in." He looked at Newt with an eyebrow raised. "Or closed the door," he added.
Newt opened his mouth to respond but Thomas swiftly leaned back in promptly shutting him up with another kiss, slipping his tongue into Newt's open mouth. As their tongues fondled each other, Thomas felt a strong wave of affection for Newt. He wanted to please him. Physically. And they were alone. That didn't happen often. The thought of it made Thomas nervous. Yes, they had done this before. But Newt had initiated it.
Hesitantly, and without breaking the kiss, Thomas itched the hand that wasn't caressing Newt's face slowly across his lap and into Newt's, where he could feel the boy's erection through his pants. With a burst of courage, Thomas gently stroked it.
Newt's reaction was instant. He pulled back, with a light smile on his face. Even though Newt's withdrawal was a clear rejection, his smile made Thomas sigh in relief. But still…
"What?" Thomas asked, as he bravely continued to rubbed the boy. There was a struggled expression in Newt's smile, as if he were torn between two options. Thomas could guess what they were. "I know you want to," he coaxed, rubbing a little more firmly.
Newt shook his head. "No. I shouldn't've come in," he mumbled.
"What?" Thomas repeated, lightly kissing him, still stroking. Newt felt rock solid beneath him now. Yes. Newt definitely wanted this too. "No one's going to bother us. They're all eating lunch."
"Yeah," Newt said, obviously struggling now, "but they know where I am. And if I don't come back they'll get suspicious. They're already curious as to why I came instead of sendin' somebody else. I mean, no one asked but the question was obvious and so was the answer. Tommy, I really want this—I really do." Newt shrugged his hip forward against Thomas's hand for emphasis. "You don't know half of the things I want to do to you right now. But If I—"
"Tell me," Thomas interrupted, with a light curious smile. "Tell me what you want."
Newt stared directly into Thomas's silver eyes, and without flinching or hesitating he spoke, as if commenting on the fair weather. "I want to slam you up against the wall and fuck bloody hell out you. I want to shove my dick so far up your arse it's gets lost in there. I want to make you scream my name." A small huff from shock escaped Thomas. He was stunned yet mesmerized at Newt's bold bluntness. Thomas found that he liked it. It was exiting. And the boy's thick accent laced in there simply made the words sound even more enticing. Thomas felt his blood heat up as Newt continued in the same conversational tone. "And then, after I've filled you up with my come, I want you to rip my pants down, throw me on the floor, and return the favor."
Thomas spoke softly, almost a whisper. "That sounds wonderful," was the only corny response he could come up with. Things had gotten extremely intense, extremely fast. Thomas could picture it happening, could practically feel Newt inside of him. With aggressiveness… Maybe it would hurt at first—
"But I can't," Newt sighed, interrupting his fantasy. "If I take too long they'll know what we're up to. Especially Alby."
This was an intense moment, but a line like that would have snatched Thomas's attention out anything. Well, almost anything.
"Alby's back up?" he asked.
"Yeah," Newt said, smiling, his relief apparent. "He's fine and I'm glad I don't have to be the boss anymore."
At the mention of Alby, a flash of guilt traced Newt's face. Thomas was extremely curious as to why Alby's name would cause it. In that moment, he grew protective of Newt. What had happened? Thomas felt his heart clinch. Had Newt and Alby done something together? No, Thomas thought defiantly. Newt wouldn't do that to Thomas, he was sure of it. But this was Alby, the young man he was in love with…
"Newt, what's up?" Thomas asked a little apprehensively, completely failing to keep his voice steady.
"What?" Newt responded with genuine shock. "Why would you ask that?"
Thomas wasn't going to beat around the bush. He wanted answers. If Newt could be bold, so could he. "You look guilty. What have you done?" He attempted to use the same casual tone Newt had.
Newt's hesitation only increased Thomas's worry. "Newt, why are you hesitating?" he asked, his calmed voice cracking. Newt's face returned to the struggled expression from before, but obviously for a completely different reason now. "Newt?" Thomas couldn't stop his voice from slowly rising. There was clearly something Newt didn't want to tell him. What was so bad that Newt couldn't tell him?
"I don't want lie to you," he said finally in a strained toned.
"Then don't," Thomas said, as if were the answer to a simple math problem.
"But I don't want—"
"If you don't tell me," Thomas said, his voice suddenly growing soft again, "I'm only going to assume the worst."
Newt looked at him with a torn expression and his eyes widened as he read Thomas's.
"No!" he said sincerely. "It's nothing like that—I told you. Alby is straight. And I'm with you. I want us to work. I—"
"Then what is it?" Thomas was getting frustrated. A part of him honestly didn't want to know. Whatever it was, it was clearly going to upset him, or Newt wouldn't feel guilty about it.
They older boy dropped his blonde head. "I may have told Alby what you told me about the girl. How you said you know her."
Thomas was stunned into a moment of silence. Newt didn't break it. He apparently didn't know what to say.
"You may have? Either you did or didn't." Thomas said, a little forcefully although he already knew the answer. And he couldn't believe Newt would break a promise like that.
"I did…"
"I asked you not to tell him that," Thomas responded, gravely soft.
"I know," Newt responded his face twisted with grief, "but he weaseled it out of me. He was telling me how he remembered you and her in the Changing and—"
"I'm not upset," Thomas said, his voice rising again—he was grateful that it was not yet a yell, "because you told him. After what I saw and heard yesterday I was beginning to agree with you. He needed to know. I might have told him myself. I'm upset because you broke a promise. I asked you not to tell him and you said you wouldn't." Thomas couldn't completely comprehend his devastation.
"Tommy I…" Newt sighed a defeated sigh. "I don't want to argue. I should get back," Newt resolutely said, standing.
"Yeah. You should." And Thomas turned his head on him.
