Dylmas/Newtmas One-Shots

Dylmas - Something Just Like This

OH MY GOD GUYS THIS IS MY 50TH ONE-SHOT!

I just want to thank every single one of you that have supported me in my journey through WattPad, whether it be from votes, comments, advice, suggestions or even simply reading these silly little stories. It's changed my life :)

Therefore, this one-shot is dedicated to every one of you! Oh, and Thomas and Dylan (of course, haha).

3rd Person POV

Thomas smiled into the warm material that was pressed against his face, shuffling in his seat as he felt the familiar feeling of the plane landing. The sound of people unclipping their seatbelts, gathering their bags and exiting the plane filled his ears. He knew that he should be doing the same, but he was just so tired – and comfortable.

"Sir, sorry to disturb but the plane has landed." A woman's cheerful voice interrupted his peaceful thoughts, and with a groan Thomas sat up, the immediate loss of heat causing him to frown. He nodded his head at the flight attendant and turned to face the man beside him.

He smiled, taking in the look of his long-term boyfriend. His dark hair was ruffled from his sleep, his lips parted as small puffs of air escaped them. His eyelids were closed, his long lashes brushing against his soft cheeks. Week old stubble covered his defined jaw and Thomas' grin grew wider as he stroked his finger over the bristles.

Dylan looked older. Older than when they first met, anyway. Thomas, on the other hand, had actually looked his age merely days ago as he sported a moustache. But that had gone and now he looked his usual young self.

Nudging Dylan's shoulder, Thomas woke up the younger man. "Time to get up, love." He whispered.

Dylan mumbled something incoherent, his voice rough with sleep. He blinked open his eyes, groaning as he was greeted with the light of the world but sat up nonetheless.

He turned to look at Thomas, a smile dancing on his lips as he saw his boyfriend. "Mornin'."

Thomas chuckled, standing up and reaching above Dylan's head to pull down their hand luggage from the shelf. "'s not really morning anymore, babe," he smirked, watching as Dylan frowned and looked out at the setting sun of South Africa.

"Huh."

Dylan cleared his head, following his boyfriend off of the plane. Their hands laced together as they stepped down from the small plane, using their other hands to shield their eyes from the bright orange sun that was slowly falling down the sky painted with reds, yellows and pinks.

They had a split second of peace as they walked into the airport through the main entrance – Dylan rubbing his thumb over Thomas' knuckles comfortingly – before they were bombarded with noise. Cameras clicking. Bright, unnecessary flashes intruding their vision. People barging through the growing crowd trying to get closer, to get a glimpse of the two men. Question after question after question.

Thomas quickly slipped his hand out of Dylan's before anyone would notice the contact, a frown forming over his eyes as his hand felt cold and alone. He already missed Dylan's presence.

But with a sideways glance at his boyfriend, who was wearing a vibrant smile, the frown melted and the blonde mimicked his expression. They pushed past the paparazzi, ignoring any of their questions and instead heading straight ahead.

They were almost free of the crowd when Thomas heard a young girl calling their names. He whipped his head around, looking for the owner of the voice, and was greeted with a nervous girl, her brunette hair tied in a sleek ponytail, beaming over at them. He nudged Dylan's side, gaining the younger man's attention, and pointed over to the girl with a hopeful look.