one shots | newtmas

𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭- 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲

2854 words

Thomas groaned quietly. The sun shone through the curtains, hitting his face like a brutal wake up call. His head was throbbing slowly and he ached all over. Thomas tried to bury his head in his pillow, holding it tighter in his arms, but it was...different . It wasn't the same soft, plush material that it normally was. It was hard. Solid. A strange, smooth texture.

He opened his eyes and looked groggily around the room. The room that wasn't his. Thomas frowned. There was a poster of a bad he didn't really know, next to a door he couldn't recognize. The window was in the wrong place and the bed was in the wrong corner of the room.

Thomas sat up a little straighter and looked around. It was then, when the blanket slipped off his bare chest that he realised he didn't have a shirt. He looked under the blankets. Or pants.

"Where the fuck..."

That's when his eyes landed on the sleeping figure beside him. Thomas's heart leapt to his throat. There was someone in his bed. Or he was the someone in their bed.

Thomas was suddenly very aware that he was naked. He pulled the blanket tighter around his waist and leant forwards, putting his head a little closer to the sleeping body.

It was a boy. A boy with unkept blonde hair. He had a sharp jawline and soft, full lips. His arms were folded under his head as a makeshift pillow. His light hair was strewn messily across his face and his arms.

Thomas frowned at the boy's peaceful, sleeping face, searching through his hazy brain for a memory, some recognition of the boy beside him.

He sighed and sat forward, resting his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. What had happened last night?

Thomas filtered through the few activities he remembered from last night.

Let's see. He'd been invited to a party by his best friend Minho. Actually, Minho was invited and begged Thomas to come. After a good week and a half of nagging he finally gave in.

The party was on a Saturday night. He'd originally planned to study but found himself at a huge house that he'd never been to before. Thomas remembered following Minho from the car. Music was blaring, there was already a ton of people outside the house and Thomas had said...

"Look Min, maybe this isn't the best idea. I mean come on, you know I have that essay for Janson due in a few days—"

"Aww come on Tom!" Minho whined. "Have a drink, loosen up. You never know you might even get laid."

He winked at the stunned brunet before opening the front door.

If the music hadn't been loud before, it was now. Defining even. Thomas could barely hear his thoughts as the music pounded through his ears. But he was determined to keep an eye on Minho. He didn't know anyone else at the party. Minho knew the chick who's party it was from elementary school. Thomas had never even met her.

So Thomas followed his friend through the crowd of drunk and horny teenagers. They made their way to the kitchen where Minho filled two red cups with god knows what.

He handed one of the cup to Thomas who looked at it with a raised eyebrow. Minho rolled his eyes and took a sip.

"Come on Thomas," he said wiping his mouth. "It's not gonna kill you."

The brunet rolled his eyes and took a small sip of the drink. He made a face. It was bitter and burned. There was no real flavour in the drink. Thomas never really drank.