a/n: on A03 i have this one under another account, but i was too lazy to do that here

so, there ya go

. . .

taking my breath, a souvenir that you can keep

The hum of nature around them fades into a background of white noise, so does the bane of their existence, and they're so caught up in their own heads and each other it is near impossible not believing they're the only two souls inhabiting the world.

Thomas gapes silent around crimson kissed lips, held firmly into the solidified palisade behind him, crowded against it, their bodies flush together as he's being fucked with restrained abandon; yet another paradox Newt seems to be made up of.

His whole body is singing, rocking as delicious wave after wave of want tightens his insides into writhing knots Newt will eventually untangle, melt out of him.

The older boy is relentless, fierce, but still possesses a tenderness to his touch Thomas is irremediably drawn to, wants to sink underneath the familiarity of, feels it in the way he lets himself get maneuvered, the way he lets himself fall to pieces beneath a smoldering gaze, the way he lets himself be taken apart.

Blunt nails dig a little harder into his soft, supple flesh as Newt adjusts his grip. Thomas has the sting of his fingerprints all over his naked thighs, clenched tight now, trembling around a defined waist, and he's clasped around him–holding on for dear life as rationality gives in to temptation, reason to sensation.

Every inch of his skin is overheated, the slick of sweat warm and sticky, tension molten, thick between them, a touch sweet.

Thomas has no recollection of having ever experienced anything like this before, isn't certain if it's even supposed to come close to feeling this way–because it's so good, Newt's making him feel so good he thinks this must all be a figment of his euphoric imagination; it must be a dream.

But Newt is shifting without warning, pistoning his hips in a way that draws dots across his vision, and all Thomas sees behind the dark tint of his eyelids are gleaming constellations spelling out this boy's name.

His body shakes in anticipation of the costant, looming buildup. His skin has gone goosebumpy already, and he feels soupy, hazy in his hold. And he can't stop craving him closer. Can only think he wants more, even more now, eyes going wide and mouth hanging open a sliver, rendered speechless.

All he can do is gasp for breath he doesn't have.

"Tommy," Newt exhales, whispers breathless into the glistening patch of golden skin where his neck meets his shoulder.

At that Thomas' body reacts of its own accord. He arches off the fence, and into him, involuntarily dragging Newt deeper, and whimpers at the solid weight of him inside of himself, entwines fragments of his name with strings of broken pleas. Pretty much out of it but self-conscious all the same, he hides his flushed, heated face in the warm crook of Newt's neck and chokes off on the next, muffled moan.

The smear of tears clumps his eyelashes together and Newt is mouthing softly at his neck–a contrast to their fevered, fervent actions– as if to apologize for the painfully arousing overload to his frayed senses. And Thomas stays locked against the heat of his body and takes it, takes it well, takes it as much as he can.

Until, with a carefully aimed push, the boy stabs a place inside of him that has Thomas jack-knifing, has his insides sparking with fire. Newt is quick to stifle the shocked, expected shout between his own lips, coaxes him into another onslaught with the trail of a soothing caress across his trembling abdomen, lets Thomas whine into his mouth.

But he doesn't relent on the new rhythm, keeps the pace, and Thomas groans windless at every new second of stimulation he's subjected to, bites at his lips, screws his own eyes shut, feels tears drop heavy down his cheeks as his fingers tighten clumsily into fabric, grasping for purchase at Newt's clothes, wherever he can reach.

And with every thrust of pelvis he meets and the momentum cresting, all he can think is wanting to get pulled underneath his tide and never come up for air.