Chapter Text
It’s not until later that night that Newt gathers up the courage to text Thomas’ number. After a lengthy discussion of possible intentions with Sonya, both from Thomas’ end and Newt’s end and then deciding that waiting and seeing is the best option for how, Newt intends to come off as friendly as possible, leaving any semblance of romantic interest to a minimum. For now.
Hi it’s Newt
Is this Thomas?
10.38pm
Newt immediately puts on the ‘do not disturb’ mode, absolutely terrified of facing the consequences of his actions and terrified of getting a notification out of nowhere. He wastes time scrolling on TikTok, not daring to check the notifications he got during his ‘do not disturb’ episode until half an hour later.
Lo and behold: a reply.
It IS Thomas!
Hi Newt it’s nice to hear from you😁
I hope the note wasn’t too pushy or pretentious😅
10.45pm
He answered in less than ten minutes and here Newt is, being a dick for not replying for half an hour. Never again. Well, now it doesn’t matter because Thomas did reply and it was his number.
Newt changes his contact name to a plain and simple ‘Thomas’ and breathes a deep sigh of relief.
Haha don’t worry
It was nice
What’s up?
11.04pm
What the fuck, Newt? Stop being so cringy.
Thomas
It’s almost impossible to get Gally out of the house and Minho and I are trying to get him to come surfing on Friday
It’s like two unstoppable forces against an immovable object🥲
11.05pm
He replied quickly. Unlike Newt, Thomas seems not to care about reply-time, which you shouldn’t because if you care for someone you should answer them.
Sounds like fun
So you skate, do track and surf
What DON’T you do?
11.07pm
Thomas
I don’t know I usually try out a bunch of things and then get bored of them🥹
Those are the three things that stuck
You a beach person?
11.09pm
Ngl
The beaches in England aren’t exactly top tier so I’ve rarely gone
11.10pm
Thomas
Do you wanna join?
You’re welcome to if you want to
Unless it’s like too early to ask but you might as well now when the last days of summer are coming up😅
11.11pm
I don’t know
I’m not good with sports🙁
Leg injury
11.11pm
Thomas
That’s okay!
You don’t have to surf
It’s just the weather is gonna be really good and
Unless you actually also have other things to do then I really don’t wanna push you so if I’m doing that you can always tell me
I tend to be a bit eager and pushy
11.12pm
You’re fine Thomas😊
I guess I can’t pass up an opportunity to see the California coast
11.12pm
Thomas
Lol no you really can’t🫡
Okay so maybe we can discuss it tomorrow? It’s like super early and I hate sleeping early but otherwise I don’t go to sleep at all sooooo
But COD prop hunt is so tempting😫
11.14pm
That’s a struggle I’m not jealous of🤣
I should go to sleep too
See you tomorrow Tommy
11.15pm
Thomas
See ya Newt
Sweet dreams☺️
11.15pm
Sweet dreams :)
11.16pm
Well, Newt doesn’t fall asleep for at least an hour, too preoccupied with their conversation to really be able to blank his mind.
More or less every day, here and there, Newt and Thomas meet by coincidence at their lockers, striking up conversations about mostly insignificant things yet they’re things Newt would gladly talk to Thomas about. Any topic could be interesting with Thomas at the helm, asking questions like it’s an Olympic sport without seeming like he’s just asking to be polite but because he cares. Newt has rarely felt as seen and heard as he does while talking to Thomas.
Newt asked Sonya to come with him to the beach but she already has plans with Harriet and Aris and he isn’t about to stop her from making new friends as well. Though he can’t say he’s feeling very confident in just about anything regarding the beach. He wasn’t lying or exaggerating when he said that the beaches in England aren’t enough for him to want to go.
But this is California. He’s gonna have to at some point.
(Seeing Thomas in swimwear is not a part of the reason why he wants to come, no matter what you think)
He’s at his locker, more or less hiding inside it while texting Sonya about how nervous he is that they won’t like hanging with Newt outside of school. He jumps when he feels a tap on his arm and turns around, faced with nothing and turns the other way, finding Thomas there with as kind a smile as he always has.
“Hello, you,” he greets and rubs Newt’s arm a few times.
“Hi,” Newt replies, trying his best not to swoon over Thomas’ less than healthily charming expression and his hand on his arm. Though when he momentarily licks his lips, and Newt inevitably looks, he sees the small cut on his lip. Like he’d bitten it too hard. “Are you okay?” Newt asks and Thomas looks perplexed. It’s quite a cute expression on him. Newt points to his own lip and Thomas sucks his own into his mouth momentarily.
“Uh, I- I fell off my skateboard,” he reveals and Newt chuckles.
Oh, fucking hell. Are you okay?
He recalls it from Monday. Probably one of the best moments of his life. Or maybe the best one in his new life. The old one is left behind. As left behind as it can be.
“Again?” Newt chuckles and Thomas’ look softens and a faint smile spreads across his lips. Newt tries not to let his gaze wander down to them. He’s better than that!
“W- I- I can be clumsy, okay!
“I have tissues,” Newt tells him with a chuckle, digging them out from his bag and taking out a small plastic packet of tissues and his water bottle. He pours some water on one and holds it out for Thomas to take. The boy’s just staring.
“Why do you have those?” He asks with a raised brow.
“Why not? Clearly they’re useful,” Newt replies and urges Thomas again to take the tissue but Thomas just leans in but tilts his head away from Newt, making the access to his bleeding lip quick and easy. He’s asking Newt to do it for him. Oh my god. He wants Newt to (indirectly) touch his lips…
Deep, deep, deeeeeep breaths. Shit. There’s his irresistible cologne.
He starts carefully swiping the tissue to get off the dried blood, making it a very clear point not to let his eyes veer away and do whatever they want. Besides, he can feel Thomas’ penetrating gaze even though he’s not meeting it. He almost tells Thomas to stop looking at him but despite the heady stare, he enjoys it.
“Is it better?” Thomas wonders, tapping his finger against his plump lower lip, finding it devoid of blood this time around. “Thanks, Newt!” He rejoices, all signs of earlier composure or maybe even anxiety gone for now.
“Of course,” Newt answers with a kind smile which Thomas, as usual, gladly returns.
“When’s your last class?” Thomas asks and he looks to one of the large clocks in the hallway, showing that it’s 1.38pm.
“I’m off at three,” Newt replies and Thomas nods, rubbing his hands together like you do when cold or pumped up about something. Newt has never felt so flattered in his life. Is Thomas excited to see him? Even outside of school? Or maybe he just can’t wait to surf and meet up with Gally and Minho. Maybe he just asked Newt out of pity? Sonya easily makes friends, Newt does not.
Thought processes like these are a common practice within Newt’s mind, often diminishing anything to do with himself and also demonising every other person who’s kind to him, suspecting them of having ulterior motives. There is just no way Thomas is a demon or has ulterior motives. Not with a face like that. Not with sincerity purer than honey, a gaze as true as the sun is round, a mind as set on including everyone like his is.
“That’s perfect. Gally and Minho get off PE at 3.30 and I’m off at three too. You already got swim trunks or do we need’a swing by yours?”
“I brought a pair. And a towel, of course. Who doesn’t bring a towel to the beach?” Who the fuck cares , Newt! Leave the guy alone. But no. Thomas smiles. As usual. As written; Thomas is prophesied to bring joy and absolute ruin to blond boys named Newt with his unearthly grin and kindness.
“Right on,” Thomas chuckles and Newt looks back at his locker, plucking out the book he needs for American History with Sonya while pretending he isn’t thoroughly enjoying the sound of Thomas’ laughter.
“So-uh… how about we meet up here and get to my car when class is over? So we can wait for Minho and Gally?” He suggests timidly, picking at his own nails. It’s almost an art form to witness the transition from Thomas’ bubbly self to his apparent occasional reserve.
Newt nods and is about to answer, opening his mouth to do so but promptly closing it when he registers what the boy just said.
“Car?” He questions in disbelieving bewilderment.
“…yyyeah?” Thomas elongates the word, eyes flickering elsewhere for a moment. “Do you… have those in England…?”
Newt’s jaw slacks and his eyebrows knit together to compile an offended expression. “Thomas!” He admonishes as if he’s a parent telling off a child for swearing. “Of course we’ve got bloody cars, you dickhead!” He closes his locker and side steps away from Thomas, hearing how the boy follows him.
“Wait, Newt, I was just- I was kidding! I know you have cars over there. Didn’t you, like, invent them?”
Newt scoffs. “The Germans did.”
Thomas stops briefly, staring at Newt for a moment before catching up again. “I knew that. I was checking if you knew. ‘Cause I… definitely did!”
“You absolute plonker. You’re an ignorant American!” Newt is entirely joking, though still kind of taken aback at the fact that Thomas just asked if the UK has cars. Thomas eventually turns up at Newt’s side, running a hand over his buzz cut and then ending up scratching the back of his neck. Maybe this is one of those times where Newt is being a bit overweening and rude?
“But really. You have a licence?” Newt wonders and Thomas nods, hands stuffed in the pockets of his baggy jeans.
“Yeah? Don’t you?”
“No? We can’t drive until we’re eighteen in England.”
“Really?! That sucks?”
“Mmmm…” Newt pretends to think, “I don’t know, do I want seventeen-year-olds on the roads?”
“Fair enough.” Newt smiles again, feeling brave enough to gently elbow him teasingly, earning a smile in return which then turns all shy and bashful which is something that seems so out of character for a track-running, skateboarding, surfboarding driver. But it suits him so well, a smile.
“I’ll meet you at the lockers,” Newt confirms.
Thomas exhales deeply and says ‘okay’ while doing so, a forlorn and indecipherable look on his face as he finally stops, Newt stepping by him a few meters before he stops as well.
“My- uh- class is this way so I gotta… I’ll… see you soon,” he rambles as he backs away, hands in his pockets still. Newt nods and waves.
“See you.”
The two of them turn away to part but Newt turns his head to sneak one last glance in and he finds that Thomas skips once or twice going down the hallway, turning around as well to meet Newt’s gaze. Fuck. He shouldn’t have noticed Newt creeping on him! His cheeks flame up and he promises to curse himself if he lets Sonya see him like this.
Thomas has a bloody Jeep and it’s blue. A blue Jeep. What kid has that? He’s got his surfboard in the backseat and a neatly folded wetsuit on one of the seats, along with his skateboard in Newt’s foot space.
“Oh, hold on- “ Thomas says and stretches from the driver’s seat and into the foot space to grab the skateboard. “Sorry, I- my car’s a mess. I’m so sorry,” he apologises as he struggles to reach the skateboard. Newt goes to help him but just then he reaches it and Newt jams his cheek right into one of the wheels.
“Ow,” he winces and touches the aching patch on his cheek.
“Fuck, sorry, Newt, are you okay?!” Thomas frets, tossing the skateboard into the backseat and grabbing Newt’s bony wrist to get a view of the area he hit with his skateboard.
“I’m fine, Tommy,” Newt chuckles, the apple of his cheek sporting a red patch.
“I’m so fucking clumsy, I’m so sorry,” Thomas goes on with a self-deprecating tone.
“It really is okay, I swear. Don’t worry,” Newt insists and Thomas nods but still looks defeated and displeased. “I’ll feel better if you put on some music,” he continues lightheartedly, a warm smile on his face to make sure Thomas knows he’s not hurt or bothered.
“Okay,” the brunet accepts and fiddles with an aux cord, plugging it into his phone. With Spotify open, he hands it to Newt. “I wanna know what you listen to.”
“Oh, everything . Anything at all.”
“Is Lana okay?”
“‘Is Lana okay?’?? Of course she is! You’re brilliant, Tommy!” Thomas smiles bashfully again, almost kind of shielding himself with his shoulder and Newt’s heart flutters. He starts playing a song off NFR at a low volume and Newt’s crush just grew a whole lot bigger and more serious. How is Thomas a real person? He’s this adorably anxious, clumsy, gentle and kind soul who’s considerate, including and outgoing paired with his irresistible beauty and he’s more than a triple threat.
A phone rings. There are no vibrations in Newt’s pocket so it isn’t his and Thomas answers, the music pausing.
“Yeah?… yeah, we’re in my car… I’ve got my board back there… your keys? You lost your keys?… yeah, you do that… ‘kay, see you there… bye.” He hangs up and chuckles, leaning his head back against the headrest before turning to Newt, still chuckling like Newt is meant to join him without knowing what the hell they were talking about.
“Since my backseat is pretty occupied, Gally’s going with Minho if he finds the keys to his dad’s car.”
“Oh… so they’re not coming?”
“Eventually they will. Minho really never displaces things so he’ll find them in some place he knows,” Thomas explains and Newt nods, not sure how to feel about being alone with Thomas for longer periods of time. How is he meant to function like a normal human being?
“Wait, his dad’s car?” Newt questions while Thomas is pulling out of his parking spot. Thomas nods with wide eyes, making it clear to Newt that Minho’s in the shit if he doesn’t find those keys.
“Let’s hope we get Minho back with his head attached to his neck,” Thomas jokes and Newt scoffs, his head nodding along with the next song that he’s never heard. The ride is mostly silent, with Newt gazing out of the window to get a good view of Santa Barbara as it passes by, a vibrant city with mountains behind it and the sea in front, palm trees galore and just everyone’s summer dream. Newt thinks he’ll like it here. Then he’s reminded of who’s driving this car and he decides that he knows he’ll like it here.
“Surfing in Santa Barbara is meh,” Thomas speaks out of nowhere and Newt turns around to show his interest. “If you like it, you should come with us to Carpinteria. It’s better there. Usually we head there during winter break.
The waves are great then,” he tells Newt who listens as if this is some lecture in CPR.
“That would be cool. I’d gladly come and watch.” He can’t exactly participate, can he? Thomas looks a bit discouraged.
“You really think you’ll hate it? Enough not to try?”
I want to, I can’t, Newt thinks, not wanting to go into detail about it. But Newt is a pushover who wants to please Thomas and if surfing will do that, then perhaps it’s worth a try.
“We’ll see,” Newt tells him and that seems to satisfy him enough.
Thomas drives to a beach named Leadbetter and it’s quite beautiful. He tells Newt that the waves are pretty small which makes it easier for beginners and that the sunsets are ‘marvelous’ and Newt chuckles at his choice of wording, Thomas complaining about Newt’s complaint with a lovely smile.
They venture to the small changing rooms and Newt chooses to change in one of the bathroom stalls, being very careful not to step on the floor by standing on his shoes and then when he’s changed sliding his feet into his (but actually his dad’s) slides. He’s never been very self conscious about his body but when he exits the stall to find Thomas in all his tan, lean-muscled glory, he tries very hard not to compare with his pasty British complexion. He has to use SPF 50 and when Thomas is so perfectly tanned, it feels stupid.
When Thomas turns around and faces Newt, he blinks and freezes for a moment and Newt has to pretend that he needs to look elsewhere and completely misses the way Thomas’ eyes scan the length of his body with considerable interest. He finds courage to look back and tries to not do the same thing but just one time his eyes and his heart betray him and he tries not to imagine what it would feel like to touch him.
“Uh- Min- “ Thomas clears his throat and swallows while Newt feels like he’s under Thomas’ scrutiny again, wishing for it to be over so he can stop worrying about his body. “Minho and Gally will be here soon. They- uh- found the keys.” He blinks again before gathering his things in his arms despite having a bag and carrying all of it outside, Newt holding the door for him. But as expected, he ends up dropping a bunch of things.
“God-fucking-damnit,” he swears as things fall like dominoes into the sand.
“Hold on,” Newt says and picks the things up for him, carrying it while they find a spot.
“Thanks,” Thomas smiles sheepishly and Newt shrugs as if to say ‘it’s no sweat’.
The sun is glaring down on them and the only thing keeping the day bearable is the winds. Alas, Newt has to put on loads of sunscreen and even if the water looks absolutely incredible, he’ll have to wait for the lotion to absorb into his skin.
This is where the nerve wracking part comes in. Newt can do most of his body on his own but, of course, he can’t reach his back. Meaning he’ll have to ask Thomas to do it. All he can picture are those ridiculous scenes in movies and music videos of girls sensually putting on sunscreen and it isn’t exactly helping. Thomas sliding his hands along Newt’s back won’t help anything but something he really has no desire to get.
To Newt’s surprise, Thomas asks if he can borrow some sunscreen because he forgot his and when Newt just stares at him he shrugs.
“What? We all need to wear sunscreen! I saw on TikTok that we even need to wear it on cloudy days! In the face, at least… “ he explains.
“Go ahead,” Newt answers with a laugh and they sit on their respective towels- oh no. Does this mean that Newt’s gonna have to put sunscreen on Thomas’ back? Fuckfuckfuck-
“Uh- could- it’s kinda- wait, sorry, I’ll start over. Could you do my back for me? If that’s okay, I mean?” Newt melts like an ice cream and luckily he can blame it on the damn sun because why is he so adorable when he stumbles over his words like that? Newt watches as Thomas sucks in his lower lip and bites gently on it before replying.
“Sure,” he accepts, trying to keep his cool. Putting some lotion in his hand, he smears it along Thomas’ skin and it’s warm beneath his touch, the color of it an expanse of what kinda looks like it could be a canyon. He feels the ridges of his spine, the light contractions of his muscles when they’re exposed to the cold lotion and holding him steady by his shoulder. Fuck, Newt has never been this far gone this quickly. Stupid American boys.
“Do you… want me to do yours?” He asks hesitantly after Newt proclaims that he’s (finally) done. Thomas waves his hand in a dismissive way before he can answer. “And thank you for helping me, I forgot to say. Uh- sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” he rambles which he seems to be doing all the time. A habit of his, then.
“Yes, please,” Newt accepts and he will rue this day for what he’s about to feel over a simple favor in order to not develop skin cancer. Thomas nods with a soft smile before stepping behind Newt, putting lotion in his hand and placing a cold hand on his back and smoothing it out against his skin, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder same as Newt had done.
“And it’s okay. Sonya can be like that sometimes. She has to say things immediately or she forgets them.”
Thomas chuckles. “Yeah, that’s basically it,” he agrees and Newt knows. They fall into silence and Newt is all too focused on how Thomas’ hand is gliding and massaging the sunscreen into his skin and almost goes into overdrive when he feels one of Thomas’ hands being placed on his waist while the other is going along his lower back. He presses his lips into a thin line to avoid sounding like a squealing fangirl because he might have just done that.
Thomas is so gentle, keeping his hand on Newt’s waist until he does the finishing touches by smoothing the rest of the sunscreen into his shoulders, his earlier placement completely on fire like Newt had already been sunburned there. Newt quietly thanks him, only letting his eyes flicker to him to acknowledge his favor before shaking out his towel and placing it in the sand, sitting down on it.
Thomas follows behind, laying down in his beautiful, tan glory as he lightly glistens after the sunscreen and Newt isn’t aware that he’s staring until he feels a salty breeze drying out his eyes, causing him to blink aggressively and lay down too.
He can’t believe he’s doing this. It’s been a week and Newt has already gone and developed a crush on someone and he’s on the beach with said someone and they’re already friends and it feels like they’ve known each other forever and he’s so kind and funny and gentle and beautiful and pretty and- you get it. Newt is down bad and it’s been an embarrassingly short time. In fact, the shortest timespan in Newt’s crush history ever .
“You’re scared of the ocean, aren’t you?” Thomas speaks up after a while of them just laying quiet among the distant voices of those enjoying this sunny Friday afternoon. Newt scoffs.
“No.” He really wants Newt to surf, doesn’t he?
“Don’t lie,” Thomas teases, “you don’t like beaches in England because you don’t like water. Called it,” he continues and Newt takes a fistful of sand and opens his eyes to chuck some sand at him for accusing him of having such a weird fear. Thomas flinches away and squeals while Newt releases a laugh from his tight chest. His chest keeps feeling constricted by butterflies and anxious curiosity that has him wishing he was as unabashedly and openly curious as Thomas since it’s to Newt a very admirable trait.
Newt lets the sand he picked up seep between his fingers as he lays back down. “I have a leg injury. If standing upright on a skate- or surfboard is already difficult, multiply that by ten for me,” Newt admits, hoping Thomas won’t ask where the injury stems from.
“Ah,” he accepts without a fight. “Well, just know that if you- change your mind- “ he goes on.
“About having a limp? I wish!” Newt jokes but Thomas looks mortified.
“Sorry! That’s not at all what I meant, Newt, I just- I’d be willing to teach you if you ever feel- no, you know what, forget it, it was stupid of me to say that.”
“Thomas,” Newt says and turns to look at the brunet whose eyes are fearful and regretful and absolutely gorgeous in the sunlight, “it’s okay. I’d like to try one day but… maybe I’ll start with skateboarding,” he smiles reassuringly and Thomas sighs, doing that thing again where he says ‘okay’ while exhaling.
“I’d love to teach you. I love to teach you. No- I mean- I love to teach , like, in general. You too, of course and, uh, and- wait, I don’t mean ‘I love you too’, that’d be- not that I don’t like you, you’re really cool and you have pretty eyes and a nice accent but I’d love to teach you too, and not just in general… I’m so sorry, I rambled again, didn’t I?” Thomas groans and hides his face behind his hands while Newt probably looks like Thomas is earth's greatest discovery and one of the seven wonders of the world. He might be.
And ignore the fact that Thomas just said he has pretty eyes. Yup. Ignore it for your mental health. Or die from choking on those stupid butterflies. Whichever Is preferable.
“Yeah, you did do that,” Newt tells him head on.
“God, so fucking annoying!” Thomas admonishes himself, voice muffled by his hands seemingly pressing harder and harder against his face.
“Tommy, it’s okay. We all communicate in some way. Some need time, so take yours. S’not like I’m gonna leave mid story, you know.” I’m never gonna leave, period. Full stop.
But Thomas still seems bothered. He shrugs. “It’s just all I do. Whenever I talk I just go on long tangents that are unbearable and say things that serve no purpose,” he says and begins to sound frustrated with himself, a feeling Newt really doesn’t want Thomas to have. He finds Thomas’ rambling really sweet and dedicated and it seems like he values clarity but struggles to portray it and to Newt it’s admirable - just something he can work on.
“Not everything needs a purpose,” Newt reminds him then, a more nonchalant shrug than Thomas’ coming from him. “If everything has a purpose, then nothing has a purpose,” he continues, wondering if it makes any sense but judging by Thomas’ faint smile and how he can look back up at Newt with that grin reaching his gemstone eyes then he’ll count it as a success.
“So… you don’t mind? My… tangents?” Thomas hesitates.
Newt shakes his head with a lopsided smile. “Who does mind them? I might wanna have an unfriendly chat with them,” he jokes and hopes it’ll cheer his new friend up enough to get back to his giddy self.
“I mean… I guess no one’s really told me they mind… I can just feel it, sometimes,” Thomas tells him.
“Well, if someone does decide to say that, I’ll set them straight,” Newt promises and his heart is aglow when Thomas laughs without inhibition, seemingly sponging up Newt’s words and promises at last.
“Thanks, Newt. I’ve got my protector,” he says and reaches over to pat Newt’s arm with a slight smirk, making a point out if it and Newt wishes he didn’t immediately understand but it’s hard not to when it seems like him and Thomas are just… connected.
“Is there something you want to say to me, Brady ?”
“Who the hell’s Brady?”
“Are you- it’s from Teen Beach Movie!”
“Well- yeah. You’re super skinny, you couldn’t even hurt a fly!”
“Piss off, that’s rude, I was just telling you I’d protect your honor even if it’d be like a stick insect squaring up!” Thomas laughs and Newt joins him, their little spat being everything but malicious and Newt can really tell that Thomas is going to be a good friend. Hopefully a lifelong one.
The two of them indulge in some small talk to get to know each other and Thomas marvels at the fact that Newt (well, his dad) has a motorbike, pleading to be able to at least glimpse at it when Newt absolutely forbids him from ever touching it.
“Just a glimpse ? A teeny-weeny -“ Thomas pleads.
“No promises,” Newt throws him a playful side-eye but Thomas seems content anyway.
They get lost in their conversation until Minho and Gally arrive, greeting Newt just as enthusiastically as they do Thomas, which is heartwarming and makes Newt feel valued. It’s something he’s always struggled with; being convinced that no one but Sonya actually wants to hang out with him and feeling undervalued .
Not now. These guys seem to genuinely want to hang with Newt and so an authentic smile is never far from his lips.
Minho and Gally are both relieved and scandalized at the fact that neither of them had been in the water yet and Thomas defends them by mocking Minho for thinking he doesn’t need sunscreen and that those that want to protect themselves from malignant melanoma have to wait for their skin to soak up the lotion. Minho chooses to glare at Thomas after his rant and still sits with Gally, like the good friend he is, while he waits for his sunscreen to absorb.
“Right, now you gotta prove to me you’re not scared of the water, Newt,” Thomas challenges as they make their way down to the shore and the waves that slam against the sand travels further than Newt anticipated and his feet feel a sliver of ice cold seawater and he knows he’s already fucked. Newt runs cold, this is going to be hell! Plus, the sun has roasted him like a ham, his skin is warm now. Warm plus cold equals itchy prickling skin. What a joyous time he’ll have.
“How?” Newt still questions, trying to suppress a squeak elicited by the icy ocean. He pretends he doesn’t see Thomas’ knowing and mischievous smirk. He isn’t as subtle and smooth as he believes because Newt can see what he wants to do from a mile away. Newt walks closer to Thomas, who’s already got his entire shins in the water, so his feet are covered with water and then he uses all the force in his leg to splash Thomas who gasps dramatically, standing there almost dripping wet while Newt definitely looks all too proud of himself and Thomas uses his lack of regret to justify shoving walls of water at Newt with his hands.
This time, there is no way Newt can hide his squeaks and he sounds like a little girl, making Thomas double over with laughter and totally prevents Newt from getting counter revenge by hurrying further out while Newt remains close to shore.
“Scared!” Thomas yells at him, submerged all the way but his head. Newt flips him off and then takes walking into the ocean at his own pace, Thomas just chilling by floating on his back. Maybe Newt will just shove a fistful of wet sand into his face? See who’s scared then. Newt turns around at Minho and Gally cheering him on from the beach and he shyly waves back, not thinking their exchange had been watched. Let’s hope Thomas’ friends are as clueless about his crush as Thomas himself is.
Newt turns back to venture further into the ocean, the level being at his lower stomach at this point, when he notices that Thomas isn’t where he just was. Umm… is he being a scheming dick or is he actually in danger? Whichever it is, Newt should hurry up and he does, hoping to god that the idiot hasn’t drowned.
“NEWT!”
“Fuck!”
Newt’s entire back is soaked in freezing water and the lovely, but now when Newt is pissed off, really annoying , laughing he adores fills the air around them. Newt is glad he didn’t shriek and completely embarrass himself and when he turns around, faced with Thomas who again is laughing at Newt’s expense, he glares pointedly at him.
“Way to make a bloke warm up to water! You bloody shank, if I wasn’t afraid of water before I bloody am NOW!” Newt admonishes him but can’t keep a smile far from his lips while watching the genuine mirth of such a gorgeous person.
“I like your funny words, magic man,” Thomas jokes with a smug face, clearly making fun of his accent. BUT, it is funny and Newt opens his mouth in offense but the corners of his mouth are upturned so it gives him away, unfortunately giving this one to Thomas in the process.
“You plonker. I’m so pissed at you,” he laughs along with Thomas, flicking some salt water into his face and he ducks away but does it too late, spluttering while still laughing.
“You needed a push! You were being slow like a grandma.”
“Dick,” Newt sighs and splashes Thomas again.
Eventually, Newt does submerge himself and start water wars, complaining about the salt getting in his eyes and mouth, relishing in the warmth of the sun, diving into waves and just joking around with the most energetic lad Newt’s ever met. Gally and Minho join them, bringing a frisbee that they throw and struggle to chase after if it slips away and Minho and Thomas shows them how one stands on the other’s shoulder and then the person beneath shoots up out of the water and sends the person above flying.
Gally is the tallest and since Newt had never done it before, Gally volunteers and Newt honestly thought he’d launch into the atmosphere with the height he got to. But man, was it fun.