Chapter Twenty Nine

"Hey! Hey Greenie! Hey! I'm talking to you, shuck-face!"

Newt closed his eyes and cursed his luck. Without Minho beside him in class he'd barely made it through the torture of Gally's underhanded and sly tactics, bruises forming up one of his legs from the bigger boy's continual accidents as he deliberately passed by Newt's desk at every opportunity; going to the toilet, sharpening his pencil, handing his homework to the teacher.

With a reluctant sigh, he turned warily to see Gally and two of his friends standing in the corridor behind him, suspiciously close to Newt's locker.

"What?"

Gally raised his eyebrows and his goons tittered for him like well-trained hounds.

"Rude. Thought you brits were supposed to be polite?"

Newt clenched his jaw and tightened his fingers around the folder in his hands. It was lunchtime and he was headed to rehearsals. He didn't have time for Gally's rubbish, and he felt the urge to tell him so. Of course he didn't, realising that responding to Thomas's influence on him wasn't always such a great idea.

"Usually." he resounded in a neutral tone. "But I'm in a rush, so…"

He turned to go, ignoring the response of Gally's indignant calls. He made full use of his long legs, striding down increasingly empty corridors towards the Auditorium. Students were piling out to leave for lunch, or headed towards the Dining Hall in the opposite direction. If Gally cornered him here there'd be nobody around, and Newt's ridiculously over-imaginative mind wouldn't let him think of much else.

He turned into the right corridor just as Gally's hand grasped his shoulder to spin him around to face him. Newt could hear the sound of people tuning up their instruments, the warm atmosphere of chatter seeping through the doors just feet away from where Gally slammed his back into the wall.

"I've got a bone to pick with you." Gally hissed, as Newt was debating the embarrassment of calling out for help as he tried to reclaim his breath.

Sure, Gally could probably slaughter him if he really wanted to, but he wasn't truly as stupid as he looked. It wasn't as if he was going to kill Newt right there in the corridor. It didn't stop Newt's veins from filling with the icy fear, or his face from cringing away when Gally pointed at him. His heart was racing ridiculously hard in his chest, each thump a bruising pain against his ribcage.

"Last week, remember? You and that other shucking Greenie-"

"What are you playing at?" came an infuriated voice, and Newt didn't need to look to know that somehow, by some twist of fate, it was Thomas.

"Get your fucking hands off him, Galileo."

Gally sneered in response as his lackeys jumped to attention.

"Move along, shirt-lifter. Your boyfriend and I have some business that's none of yours."

Thomas's hands were clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles were white, and despite the anger that flared through Newt at the homophobic term, he felt a pang of sorrow for the brunette. Of all the people Gally could hate, Thomas was quite possibly the sweetest around.

"I said get your hands off him." Thomas repeated lowly, and Newt swallowed at the dark fire that was burning in the gold of his eyes.

Gally didn't seem to see it, or perhaps he disregarded it entirely.

"And I said move along." Gally spat back, tightening his grip on Newt's collar when the blonde filched away.

"Miss Paige is through the wall." Thomas informed them evenly, his chin raising at a challenging angle when Newt and the three older boys looked at him.

"So what? She can't hear a shucking thing from there."

"So I run track." Thomas answered cooly. "I can be in that door to fetch her before you even manage to let go."

"That a fact?" Gally challenged menacingly, his two bodyguards stepping forward threatening.

Thomas nodded, his gaze unblinking as he skipped back two steps to keep the space between them, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Let him go and we'll forget about it." Thomas offered, his mouth set in a serious, straight edge. "Unless you want to help re-set all the chairs and mop up after the Windband have been on. And doing all the other fun things she makes you do in detention."

Newt felt a grateful little lurch in his chest at Thomas's quick thinking, relieved when the hand on his shirt loosened marginally.

"We'll just get you another time." Gally sneered, flicking his wrist when he let go to send Newt stumbling towards the younger boy.

Thomas caught his arm, twining his fingers through Newt's as he tugged the blonde down the corridor towards the doors before Gally could change his mind.

"Is Miss Paige set up already?" he murmured, just as Thomas pulled the door open for him.

Thomas turned the full wattage of his sunny grin on him, sending his heart stuttering because he wasn't prepared.

"Nah." Thomas replied toothily. "She's not even here yet."

Newt's surprised laughter shut out Gally's profanity as he tugged Thomas into the chaotic atmosphere of pre-rehearsal noise.

"You're a nutter." he told the content brunette, watching the way the caramel eyes turned to twinkle at him.

"Possibly true." Thomas agreed pleasantly as he pulled Newt down into an empty seat and passed him his lunch. "But I don't exactly think straight when it comes to you."

Newt stared at him as he rummaged through his own lunch, meeting the warm brown eyes when they raised again. And then Thomas was sniggering, flicking a piece of popcorn from the stealthily opened bag in his hand. It hit Newt's fringe and hung there for a moment before falling, cutting through the peripheral of the blonde's unimpressed glance. Thomas giggled away to himself as Newt turned to his lunch, one hand reaching out to brush Newt's fringe back from his eyes almost apologetically.

When Newt looked back at him in surprise Thomas only leaned in, causing Newt to tremble under the brush of lips across the crest of Newt's cheek, under the guise of picking invisible popcorn from the side of his head.

Newt's heartbeat rocketed, his skin instantly ablaze from the mere whisper of Thomas's breath as the brunette pulled away again. They stared at each other for a handful of heartbeats, so close Newt knew it'd take almost nothing to-

And it was over, Thomas saying something and leaning back to unwrap the sandwiches his mother had made them that morning. Newt was stuck in place, barely even breathing as he tried to process what had happened.

Every time he looked at Thomas he could feel the ghostly heat that tingled over his skin to be chased by the rash of a blush.

It was almost a week before he could meet Thomas's eye without turning scarlet, something their friends were intensely curious about despite the lack of forthcoming information from either boy.

Newt tried his best not to fixate on it, pushing it to the back of his mind every time it occurred to him, growing confident in the belief that it was just an accident, an unexpected contact like so many others. Thomas hadn't done it one purpose.

The next time it happened Newt was just as unprepared, over-tired from the all-nighter they had pulled the evening before, sprawled atop his duvet in his worn joggers and his favourite of Thomas's t-shirts, theory book in hand. Thomas had his iPod docked across the room and it was playing on shuffle as the brunette seemed to dance his way through hunting for some worksheet or other he was supposed to have finished for his computing class, humming and singing and generally being himself.

They'd alreadys earthed Thomas's own bedroom, coming swiftly to the conclusion that he'd probably left it at Newt's considering they basically shared their rooms now. They'd abandoned all pre tense to the contrary, considering they often wore each other's clothes and now co-owned a metronome and various other bits and bobs, from stationary to the iPod dock. Newt had come to the conclusion that if nothing else their friendship had trained him in the art of watching Thomas while pretending to do something else. He wasn't even sure which section of the Music theory he was supposed to be brushing up on, nor could he really tell what page he'd opened it to.

The song playing faded into a crackly background as the bars of a new song twanged through the room, Thomas's head popping up as his face split into a grin.

First time, first love

Oh what feeling is this?

Electricity flows with the very first kiss

Like a break in the clouds and the first ray of sun

I can feel it inside something new has begun!

Newt chuckled, watching Thomas throw his head from one side to the other as he mimed the chords on an invisible guitar.

And it's taking control of my body and mind

It began when I heard

I love you

He turned to flash that grin Newt's way and the lyrics were hot in the blonde's ears as he tried to roll his eyes and laugh in return.

For the very first time!

For the very first time!

Thomas's head was thrown back, his back arched in an exaggerated guitarist's pose as he belted the chorus.

For the very first time!

For the very first time!

He spun over to face Newt as the next verse started, pretending he was holding a microphone and pulling faces that made it hard for Newt to keep his face straight, despite the trembly sort of attraction that was building at the situation, at Thomas singing words like those and leaning so close.

This life this love, oh what sweetness I feel,
So mysterious yet so incredible real.

He dropped down next to Newt, throwing a casual arm around him as though to draw him in to sing with him.

It's an uncharted sea, it's an unopened door
But ya got to reach and ya gotta explore!

Thomas's exaggerated hair-flip motion over-balanced them, sending them crashing to the floor in a heap, giggling and tangled in each other and the duvet they'd dragged with them. Newt's heart was thrumming pleasantly as he opened his eyes to laugh breathlessly at the boy above him.

Even thought you're not sure
Till the moment arrives

It seemed ridiculously well-timed, or badly timed, the music filling his head as Newt realised that his friend was mere centimetres away, his tan skin almost blurring in his vision. Thomas's caramel eyes peered down at him and a gently lop-sided smile was painted on his lips. His chest was heaving shallowly, as he mouthed the words.

There he is and you know
You're in love

It was sheer agony not to close his eyes and give in to the way his body was filling with a wave of warmth, a reaction that tingled from his toes and raced up his skin. Thomas's gaze wavered and Newt knew he'd never convince himself that the younger boy hadn't looked at his mouth. He hadn't, right?

Right?

For the very first time!

Their faces were so close and Thomas was making no move to free him from their position.

For the very first time!

Newt found he didn't really want to move yet anyway.

For the very first time!

For the very first time!

He swallowed, growing more an more aware of every brush of Thomas's skin against his own, of the fact that his breath was hitting Thomas's cheek.

For the very first time!

For the very first time!

Thomas finally moved, shifting his weight to free one knee which had gotten caught and pinned under the fallen duvet, and as he did his mouth brushed Newt's ear. The blonde was ashamed to a admit even to himself that he had arched into the touch as Thomas clambered off of him.

For the very first time!

As Thomas stood, Newt gasped in air like he'd run track with Thomas and Minho, like he'd pushed himself. He met Thomas's gaze from where he still lay on the floor, dissolving with him into nervous, gleeful giggles.

It was a while before he could find the muscle strength to get up, throwing himself into the task of helping Thomas find his worksheet.

Once again he was plagued with the ghostly feeling of Thomas's lips against his face.