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Waking up in the middle of the night was not Thomas's favorite thing in the world. First, because it was never nice to have your night's sleep interrupted for absolutely nothing, and second, because he usually had to wake up pretty early in the morning to go to college, and he needed some sleep.
However, that time was a bit different: when Thomas woke up that night, it was definitely not for nothing.
His eyes opened on their own accord, obeying a command he knew he had wanted to give but had found himself unable to in his unconscious state. He let out a breath, thanking the part of his brain that was not completely against him and that had let him wake up from this shucking nightmare, and hurridely scrambled away from the soft and warm sleeping form he had been spooning until now. The warm sheets of the bed seemed to be pining his body to the bed as he moved, preventing him from getting away. A bit hysterically, he kicked the sheets away as best as he could, eventually freeing himself enough to be able to sit on the edge of the bed.
He closed his eyes the next second, keeping them tightly shut, and buried his head in his hands. His heart was beating a little bit too fast, and he was hot, way too hot, his skin sweaty and just – gross. God, he felt so gross.
It took him less than a minute to get up and head for the bathroom, discarding his shirt and boxers on the way before turning on the water on the coolest position as soon as he entered the shower. He let the cold water run down his body, and sighed as it washed away the physical remainder of his nightmare.
When he came back into his room, it was still plunged in darkness, but there was a soft glow coming from the bed. Thomas made his way to the bed softly, trying to act as casual as he could in the middle of the night, and let his body slide between the matress and the now cooler sheets. The soft light coming from Newt's phone disappeared almost instantly, and Thomas felt bad for waking his boyfriend up: Newt had had a rough day, and the blond had to wake up early in the morning as well to finish one of his main projects for his classes. The blond needed and deserved his rest.
“'m sorry I woke you up,” he whispered, knowing fully well Newt would hear him.
“It's fine, Tommy,” Newt replied softly and a bit sleepily. Thomas nodded a little, even though Newt could not see him properly in the dark room. “Do you want to cuddle back to sleep or-”
“I'm - I'm fine, thanks,” Thomas cut him off, as gently as he could. He still felt angry at himself and a bit depressed, and he really wished he had not woken Newt up, as he was now also feeling guilty about how harsh his words came out compared to how tired Newt sounded. He just wished he wasn't such a burden.
“Okay,” Newt replied from the other side of the bed. “Good night, Tommy.”
Thomas heard some ruffling, and his heart ached a bit in his chest when he realized Newt had probably turned around to go back to sleep, making sure he wouldn't touch Thomas by accident. It was probably not meant to be hurtful, and Newt was just giving Thomas the space he needed, but without fully understanding why or how it happened, Thomas found himself with a dry and tight throat, a ball of anger, sadness and self-hatred making it hard for him to breathe in properly, to swallow, or even to wish Newt a good night. His eyes started to prickle and water almost immediately, and he didn't dare to close them, too ashamed of his own reactions to allow the tears to fall. He was pathetic.
He waited, lying in the dark, in a bed that felt too big, in a room that now felt suffocating. He couldn't properly shake the images and the sensations out of his head. His dream, his nightmare, was haunting him. He could still feel the pulsing waves of warmth, the hardness, and the feeling of someone touching him in that way. He had gotten rid of his main problem in the shower, and he had felt a bit better, but his mind... his mind wouldn't shut down.
He swallowed hard, and tried to think about something else. He focused on what he had to do the next day, but nothing important enough to take his mind off things came to mind. So he waited for Newt's breathing to even out so that he would not be even more of a burden when he would break down: the last thing he wanted was to keep Newt awake.
However, what he had not expected was for the thought of Newt to be what made him break down. He inhaled shakily at the thought of his lover being tired because of him, at the thought of Newt being disappointed maybe. The first tear was making its way down his cheek and a sob was threatening to pass his lips when Newt's voice broke the silence.
“You're a shank.”
There was some movements on Newt's side, and in a second, Newt was sitting up in the bed, moving closer to Thomas, resting his back against the wall and manhandling Thomas as gently as possible until the brunet was curled up against the blond's chest, body resting between his legs. As soon as Newt's hand landed in his hair, Thomas closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and felt the tears fall, as sobs started to wrack his body.
“Shh, it's fine, Tommy, it's okay,” Thomas heard through his sobs. His hand came to rest on Newt's chest and he clenched the blond's shirt in his fist, unable to speak. “It's okay, it was just a dream, it doesn't make you dirty, okay? It's just a dream, it's just your brain messing up with you, baby.” Newt's hand was scratching Thomas's nape and the brunet whimpered. “Hey, have you ever dreamed that you were a criminal on the run, or that you were being chased by weird creatures, or that you were a superhero? It's just the same, alright, dreaming about these things doesn't make them real, baby. It's the same for sex, okay?”
Newt's free hand made its way toward Thomas's chest and slid up and down his chest, helping Thomas find a correct breathing pattern again. “It's the same for sex, alright Tommy? Dreaming about sex does not make you a sexual person, and it's normal that you don't like wet dreams, I can only guess how bad it makes you feel, but it's not your fault, and it doesn't make you dirty or gross. It was just a dream, and I got you, you're gonna be fine, okay?”
Thomas had no idea what he had done in a previous life to deserve someone like Newt. Newt always knew, Newt always found the words. And even now, when Thomas was slowly calming down, Newt did not let go, and kept whispering reassuring things and comforting words into Thomas's ear, as if sensing that Thomas needed the comfort.
“I'm sorry,” Thomas sighed once his breathing had completely returned to normal, a few minutes later.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, Tommy.”
Thomas fell silent for a moment, thinking hard, and Newt didn't add anything, and did not stop playing with Thomas's hair. The brunet felt like Newt knew there was something else on his mind, and was just waiting for Thomas to gather the courage to talk about it. And if Thomas didn't want to do so, he had the feeling that Newt would drop the subject easily, and cuddle Thomas back to sleep because he knew the brunet needed it.
“It's just-” Thomas tried, a few minutes later, trying to find the words. He knew he would feel better if they talked about it, but the guilt and insecurities made it hard to speak. “I just – I don't know why I – like I -” Thomas took a deep breath. “I feel bad because I don't – like it, and you – you do, and I'm not fully – giving you what you deserve, but – I dreamt – I dreamt about it and – it – maybe I -”
“Don't you even dare think about forcing yourself to have sex with me just because you think you owe me sex. We both know it's not true, I can take care of myself okay?” Thomas cringed a little at that, and Newt continued. “And you just proved it again, tonight, Tommy: conscious-you is sex-repulsed. And I'm more than fine with that.”
“But you aren't like that and-”
“Thomas. I'm in love with conscious-you.” That shut Thomas up and he looked up at Newt with big wide eyes. “You hear me? I love having you as a soulmate more than anything in the world. I don't need sex, not when I get to be with someone as wonderful as you. And I don't want you to ever think that you owe me anything, because I love you.”
Thomas slowly raised his face till he was on Newt's level and shyly pressed his lips to his boyfriend's. He had no idea how to say thank you, so he let their lips play together, chasing each other when one of them drew back to breathe, and then their lips were parting, and their breaths were mingling, tongues brushing against each other sweetly, slow and romantic, leaving both boys a little breathless. Newt's eyes were shinning with awe and love, and Thomas realized maybe he didn't need to say thank you aloud. Newt already knew.
“I love you just the way you are.” Newt whispered against Thomas's lips when they parted for good. Thomas nodded against Newt, and Newt buried his head in Thomas's neck, finding the sensitive skin there and pecking it softly.
“Cuddle me to sleep?” Thomas asked with a tired yet genuine smile.
“Bloody Hell, d'you even need to ask? Come here.” A few gentle pecks on the forehead later, Thomas fell asleep, Newt safely wrapped around him, the word 'soulmate' carved in both of their brains and warming up their hearts.