SMS \\Newtmas AU

0.33

Hours wore on and the boys remained awake, comforted by the other's presence and wrapped in each other's embrace.

They spoke in soft whispers, their words caressing the other in a way they were afraid to do themselves. They spoke of their dreams and ideals, getting to know each other better than they had before. They spoke of Chuck and of Gally and of Newt's father and of his sister, Sonya.

They spoke of themselves there that night. They bared their hearts and souls to each other, a step that took great trust and faith and unspeakable bravery and strength on their part.

Thomas was drifting off, falling asleep when he felt something soft, warm and sweet press against his forehead like a breath.

"Goodnight, my angel."

Against Thomas' understandably hazy orders, his eyes shut and he was gone.

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Newt was the first awake the next day. His eyes flew open then promptly closed again. Slowly this time, his eyelids rose. With sleep still blurring his vision, Newt could just make out the defined features of the boy next to him.

He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and sitting up straight on the bed. Late morning sunlight warmed the entire room giving the area a somewhat stuffy feeling, with closed windows and shut door, no air could venture in.

Thomas was still sleeping soundly, his imaginably soft, plump lips were parted, his chest rose and fell with every breath.

Newt observed the boy as if he were some great mystery. Long, black lashes rested at the very top of his delicate, fair cheeks.

Newt resisted the urge to wake his companion with a trail of light, feathery kisses covering his neck and face.

Newt blushed at the thought itself. He shook his head as if he could shake the ideas now circulating like mad in his head away. His hair ,growing well past its limits, moved along with the fast movements. Newt rose off the bed and trekked downstairs.

Despite the late morning hour, Newt's house seemed dark- as if everything in it was still asleep. There was enough light to see by and he entered the kitchen feeling an empty hole in his stomach.

To say Newt was shocked to see a man rummaging through his cupboards would be an understatement.

The man straightened and turned around, as he spotted Newt his light brown eyes widened in surprise then crinkled around the edges, showing his age.The man wore a long sleeved formal white shirt and navy blue pants. His stance was tall and lanky- much like Newt's and his slightly greying mop of brown hair was dishevelled and messy.

Newt could picture the painfully familiar stranger running his hand through it constantly like Newt often tended to do.

Newt's lips curved into a small frown. "Dad." It wasn't a question, it was a simple word, an acknowledgement of sorts. Newt's eyes were narrowed only slightly, his arms crossed, his stance cautious and wary. The boy's thoughts returned to his Tommy who was still sleeping above them both.

"Hey son." Newt's father stuck his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. An easy grin found its way onto his lips. "Long time no see."

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When Thomas awoke, the first thing he noticed was not his missing comrade but rather that the sun's rays hurt his still weary eyes.