SOMEDAY ❖ Thomas (TMR)

[ 12 ] Call Me Lover-boy

CHAPTER TWELVE
• call me lover-boy •

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THOMAS WAS DEBATING on how he should approach the two boys. They were standing by the pond, ringing out their recently washed clothes. Newt was hanging up the wet pieces of articles while Minho was leaning against the maze wall with his arm. It should be easy-they were his friends. But it wasn't, it wasn't easy because what he wanted to ask them was way out of his comfort zone.

The boy had to close his eyes most of the way there; his stomach was lurching to an extent that made him feel unstable. Why was this so hard for him? It was just a question-a simple question.

Yet everything seemed to be difficult when it came to Evony.

His feet stopped about five feet from the blonde. Unable to move himself forwards anymore, he resorted to speaking from that exact spot. "Newt?" he spoke waveringly, then immediately cursed himself after. "Newt," he tried again, this time gaining the attention from both of the boys.

The Second-in-Command turned to look at him, walking over so he could place an arm around his shoulder. Thomas appreciated the gesture for the mere fact that it got him to move from his frozen state. "Tommy," he acknowledged, "where ya been?"

"Oh, I've been..." he wasn't sure what to say. If he said he had been with Evony then they would tease him, and he'd like to avoid that embarrassment as much as possible. "..thinking."

Minho chuckled from over by the wall. He pushed himself off and made his way to join the other two. "And what has little Tom been thinking about?" The runner smirked slyly, which made Thomas' nerves enhance even more. If that was somehow possible.

He glanced between the two, his gaze falling on the boy on the left-Newt. When he had planned this conversation out in his head Minho hadn't been there. He hadn't been there with his sarcastic comments and flirty remarks. It was only him and the blonde, who would hopefully give him advice.

"Actually, Newt," he addressed, trying to ignore the fake punch to the heart the Keeper acted out, "Could we talk?"

"Sure thing," he replied, making Thomas smile in gratitude. The brunete tapped his fingers against his thigh, waiting for the blonde to make the first move of getting up. It never happened; he never moved and instead stayed by the clothesline ringing out his clothes. Minho also was handling his, pulling shirts off the wire and flapping them in the air.

"Well, go on," Newt encouraged. When Thomas stayed silent, the British boys lips fell into a frown. "Come dry your clothes while we talk."

"Actually, I was wondering if we could talk somewhere else," he pressed, "alone."

"Secret sex?" Minho teased, receiving glaring looks from both of the boys. His hands rose in defense, but his lips still stayed in the same smirk, "Hey, just saying. That's exactly what I would say to ask out Ben."

Thomas' eyes went wide, his face flushing from the boy's words. Not because he was embarrassed, but because he was momentarily stunned that he had just spoken his big secret out loud. Out loud around Newt. He shifted his view between the two, searching for shock in the blondes face to confirm his suspicions. There was nothing, nothing but a blank expression.

"But- Minho," he looked at the Keeper and then back at the blonde, "Did he-? Did he know?"

"Of course I knew, Tommy," Newt laughed from beside him, he had stopped his clothes work for the moment. His statement only caused the brunette's confusion to rise; he didn't know that the runner had told anyone else.