one shots | newtmas

𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐞- 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬

2271 words

i had a few, got drunk on you, and now i'm wasted
and when i sleep i'm gonna dream of how you tasted
———

"Can I buy you a drink?" Thomas asked quietly.

The handsome blond sitting at the bar looked up at the brunet with a gorgeous smile. It was soft and simple, but still made Thomas feel warm. His hand rested around the glass sitting in front of him. Thomas had seen the blond drinking when he entered the pub, but he still found himself wanting to offer the blond a drink.

"You aren't going to ask my name first?" he responded in a smooth British accent.

Thomas bit the inside of his cheek lightly and smiled. "Should I?"

"I think so," the blond said, turning around in his seat to properly face the brunet. "It's Newt."

The side of Thomas' lip pulled up slightly. "Can I buy you a drink Newt?"

The blond lifted his almost empty glass and threw the rest of the drink to the back of his throat. Newt turned back to Thomas and wiped the side of his mouth with his hand.

"Maybe later."

Then Newt stood up and made his way into the crowd. Thomas sat down with a small, slightly defeated sigh. It wasn't that bad. There were a lot of guys in the pub. Thomas would be able to dance with at least one of them. Maybe he'd even get lucky and go home with someone.

Newt was just the first person Thomas had noticed. He was fairly hard to miss.

_____

Thomas threw back another drink. He didn't know how many he'd had that night. One after the other. he'd lost count.

He turned back to face the small dancefloor of the pub. Sweaty bodies moving around to shitting music, the hair moist and hot, people touching others, to drunk or too gone to care about the people around them.

Thomas watched the blond boy in the crowd. He stood out, tall and lanky, wearing a thin white tank top that stuck to his skin with sweat, exposing the soft, pale flesh of his chest. His hair was a messy halo around his head, framing his dark, doe eyes and complementing his creaming skin. His lips were red and shinny, his tongue darting out every now and then, wetting them as he danced with strangers.

Newt had noticed Thomas watching him throughout the night. He liked the way the brunet's eyes were on him as he danced with strangers. Hands touched his hips in an almost nervous way, sneaking soft touches to his skin, chest to chest with people he could barely see. But he definitely saw Thomas.

Now, Thomas stood up slowly. He wobbled slightly from the amount of alcohol running through his veins, but he caught himself on the bar top before he could stumble anymore. Newt was no longer dancing with anyone else, someone's hands on his body, touching him while the moved. Now he danced slowly to the music, more to himself.

Thomas slowly made his way over to the blond, through the moist air and the sweaty bodies. Newt's dark eyes lifted to meet Thomas. He smirked knowingly as Thomas made his way towards him.

Newt stepped closer to the brunet, letting his hands rested gently on Thomas' hips. Thomas felt his back touch Newt's chest, felt the blond's hot breath against the back of his ear.

Newt stepped closer to the brunet, moving slowly to the loud music. Thomas' head turned slightly to meet Newt's gaze, his eyes bleary and dark, moving in and out of focus.

Thomas grinded against the blond's thigh, feeling Newt's hands slip under his shirt, gently touching his soft skin. Thomas hummed as Newt's hands rubbed his hips.