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Chapter Text

It took exactly two and a half drinks and a few handfuls of brandy chocolates to get straight-laced Vice President Newt completely wasted.

It was quite funny, honestly, seeing the conscientious and innocent blonde drape himself shamelessly over Gally and Minho, who were equally as drunk as their vice president as well as extremely horny, snorting and laughing incoherently and giving Newt’s ass quick smacks and pinches whenever he offered himself to them.

“Shucking hell, Newt, you’re a shucking lightweight, you shucking shuck-faced shank,” Minho snorted, pouring another glass and chugging it down like a champ.

“Oy! Minho you mothershucker don’t drink it all!” protested Theresa, who was lying drunkenly on Brenda’s lap, the latter already fast asleep on the couch.

“Slim it! You guys are *hic* shucking klunkheads!” Alby took a swig of his drink and hiccuped again, returning to banter with Jorge who was muttering brokenly in Spanish about ‘being a new man’ and ‘I think I left the stove on in the dorm room’.

Chuck was passed out on the floor.

Thomas shook his head, the only Glader in the entire room who was not completely wasted or at least slightly drunk, being a huge heavyweight despite not being a frequent drinker.

Looking ahead in time to know that Minho or Gally obviously spiked the shucking drinks helped too.

Well, maybe not Gally, but Thomas knew spicing up the party was Minho’s thing and he never gave away the chance to do something incredibly stupid to make a party more interesting.

Supposed to be a welcoming party for Thomas and Theresa turned into a huge drinking fest in the enclosed karaoke room at Glade College.

At first it went smoothly, the Gladers’ leader Alby giving a ‘warm’ welcoming speech that somehow ended up having more swear words than welcoming words.

Minho making jokes about Newt’s sexuality which made Thomas wonder whether he was gay, seeing as the blonde angel himself was currently grinding against Minho’s thigh which curiously made Thomas annoyed and slightly jealous.

They then had a few rounds of singing which included a duet by Minho and Gally who were really just screaming the words and adding dirtier alterations to the song, making everyone laugh and chuckle at the immaturity, Alby singing jazzy songs that promptly put Chuck to sleep.

Brenda and Theresa who sang girly pop songs that had Minho literally jumping around like a hyperactive monkey on crack imitating them in his ‘unique high-pitched voice’ (everyone threw pillows at him to stop breaking their eardrums).

Jorge sang Spanish songs nobody understood.

Chuck joined Minho and Gally in another duet. Hilarity ensued.

Then came Newt who sang angelic renditions of various Christmas carols which got the girls chiming with ‘Aww!’s and Minho and Gally mock-sobbing at ‘the cuteness’ which made Newt blush and protest before throwing the mic at Minho’s head.

And then it all went to hell.

The Gladers should’ve known better than to trust Minho with the catering. With a smile that made Thomas think whether Minho killed a guy, he brought in snacks and drinks he smuggled through with two very suspicious-looking bottles of ‘Fanta Grape’ that he settled promptly on the table.

But seeing the vice president’s eyes light up like a cat who just got its grub washed Thomas’s worries - on whether the party would end up with everyone throwing up in the morning - away.

It was love at first sight for Thomas when it came to the blonde. The minute he arrived at college the handsome vice president went up to him and gave him a warm smile, warmer than the Sun, he thought, before giving him a tour around the institution and introducing him to the Gladers, a small yet tight group of friends who instantly took a liking to him at how well he adapted to them.

He then roomed with Minho, a talkative and mischievous Asian who had a bulky figure and could probably take down a wrestler. But they clicked and had became good friends.

This included the other Gladers: Brenda and Theresa who bonded immediately and with their terrifying girl instincts knew he had the hots for Newt.

Gally who couldn’t shut up but always made sure conversation went smoothly and always brightened things up.

Alby, who was the leader and creator of ‘Glader slang’ who made sure the group remained loyal and stable.

Chuck, the youngest and the brightest who was only in his first year but who everyone was extremely protective of.

And last but not least, the only Spaniard, Jorge.

And then there was Newt. Whenever Newt opened his kissable lips and spoke in that addictive British accent, Thomas felt every strand of his sanity being snapped. Where had this angel been his entire life? And shuck it, he couldn’t get enough of that accent of his, he needed more of it.

Thomas liked everything about Newt. The way Newt’s untamed blonde hair formed a little halo around him, giving off the impression that he was an angel, gorgeous brown eyes that made Thomas swoon, a lightly-muscled yet delicate body that Thomas wanted to stroke, touch. And the blonde’s cute quirk of licking his lips whenever he was interested drove Thomas wild.

Until now.

Seeing the innocent and beautiful blonde flirting with Minho and Gally was starting to get to him. He didn’t know whether to thank or kick Minho for spiking the drinks.

Thank him for letting him see this horny side of Newt and kick him for making the cute blonde so drunk that he was literally just prostrating himself like a cat in heat.

“Mmmh~ Gally you shucking shank~ so hot~” purred the delirious blonde, groping onto his friend, eyes glazed over with lust and lips licking in anticipation.

“You’re not so bad yourself, shank,” Gally chuckled drunkly, giving Newt’s ass a quick squeeze, making the blonde blush at the act and squeal in surprise.

That was it.

He didn’t know when is body reacted, but when it did, he found his arm latched around Newt’s waist protectively and yanking him away from the horny Gally.

“Whooo! Go get him, Greenie!” Minho hooted.

“SLIM IT, MINHO!” came Alby’s reply.

Newt stared at his ‘savior’ in surprise, with a tiny hint of lust and drunkenness in between. He grinned stupidly, “What’s up, Tommy? You bloody wasted, eh? Lemme go.”

“No,” Thomas’s tone was firm as he tightened the grip on Newt and lead the drunk blonde to the exit, “I’ll let go when we get to my room.”

Newt whined softly at the pain on his waist and moaned, “But the party - !”

Thomas glanced at the drunk group and voiced out, “We’ll be heading off early!”

“Have fun!” Minho replied.

“Remember to use protection!” came Theresa’s advice.

“*gibbers in Spanish*,” groaned Jorge.

“Slim it and get married already!” a sexually deprived Gally shouted.

Chuck was still passed out on the floor.

During the entire journey to the dorm rooms, Newt continuously punched Thomas’s stomach - not hard, due to being under the influence - while they made their way into the dorm building, with the constant struggle from the unwilling Newt who obviously wanted to have more fun with Gally’s hand on his ass.

“Shuck it, Tommy, you’re so bloody warm,” Newt muttered sheepishly, not stopping the pounding of his fists. Thomas wondered whether he was sober yet. He felt the blonde shiver and convulse whenever he brought him closer to his body, his eyelashes fluttering up at him, eyes glazed over, voice trembling . It was quite cute.

And yet so extremely arousing.

Chapter Text

When they made it back to Thomas’s dorm room, he realized two things.

One, the keys were gone from his pocket and eventually he came to a horrible conclusion that they were probably still in the karaoke room during the time where Chuck caused a riot by asking what was spooning and for some reason personal belongings being thrown as ammo were added to the mix.

Two, - god shucking damn - the boy he was holding onto was licking his bloody ear and grinding himself against his leg like a cat in heat. It wasn’t very upsetting though, Thomas thought, thanking God himself that he was wearing tight jeans and his hard-on couldn’t show.

“Newt,” Thomas asked, “do you have the keys to your room?”

He heard the blonde breathe heavily into his hear, sending tingles up and down his spine.

“Mmm yeah Tommy, highest floor, single dorm room, Vice President privileges,” he gave a drunk giggle as his delicate little fingers stroked comforting circles on his captor’s back, still drunk and tipsy, “are we gonna shag there, Tommy-boy?"

The new nickname sent heat up Thomas’s face, and wondered to himself why was he so sensitive to that. He wasn’t drunk, was he? He willed the heat away and caressed the soft strands of Newt’s hair.

"No, I’ll make sure you get to bed safely, okay Newt?”

The vice president heard this and formed his lips into an adorable pout. He looked up at Thomas with those big begging eyes akin to those of a kicked puppy’s, tugging the other boy’s shirt aggressively.

“I don’t wanna get bed safely. I wanna shag you, Tommy,” he whined, a tint of blush on his cheeks.

Thomas froze.

He was pretty sure this was an offer of a lifetime to have the untainted and adorable angel beg to ‘shag’ him in his private dorm room. Bloody shucking hell who had the willpower to deny that!?

Millions of thoughts raced through Thomas’s mind: Newt, in bed, flushing and vulnerable. Newt, kissing him while viciously pulling off his shirt. Newt, moaning as their bodies engulfed each other in an addictive heat. Newt, begging under him.

Then a part of him bitch-slapped some sanity him and reminded him that Newt was drunk and whatever he did to him might not go well in the morning.

That was a huge boner kill having to deal with the rest of the Gladers if they found out he took advantage of their innocent Newt like this. And to think of upsetting or making this lovely angel cry….

No, no, no, he willed some self-control in himself and returned to the amusingly confused blonde.

"You wouldn’t want that, Newt,” Thomas convinced him softly, stroking his cheek, watching amusedly as the blonde responded to his touches, purring at the gentle strokes.

Taking that as a confirmed yes he half-dragged half-carried Newt into the lift, having the most unfortunate timing to have some Greenies staring at them in surprise. He ignored them and when the lift reached their designated level, it took every ounce of strength for Thomas to pull Newt away from the handlebars who he decided to hump.

“Newt, we’re almost there,” Thomas reassured, having the blonde moan and whine beautifully into his ear taking its toll on him and finally decided to just bridal carry the boy to his room.

Having him writhe and moan to be taken in his arms was putting him on edge more than ever. Bad idea, he thought regretfully.

When they reached to Room 11, as Newt instructed groggily, he asked for the keys and almost passed out from embarrassment when Newt pointed to his chest where a thin chain hung around his neck, his room key hooked onto the chain. The problem was the chain dropped as low as his naval…

Thomas gulped, not wanting to drop his angel, quickly unbuttoned the blonde’s dress shirt with his teeth, exposing his smooth and oh so shucking kissable pale skin, pausing to stare and praise himself for having so much self-control to not ravish the boy right there on the spot.

Newt moaned, “Tommy I’m cold, warm me up.”

Thomas bit his lip, “Don’t worry Newt, I’ll warm you up when we get in, okay?”

Newt gave a satisfied purr and went back to snuggling into his Tommy’s chest and grinning like a Chesire cat.

Frantically unhooking the damn shucking key and shoving it into the lock Thomas heaved a huge sigh of relief when a click sound was heard and quickly went in and locked the door.

Hooking the key back onto the chain, he stared around the private dorm room for a bedroom to settle the boy in his arms down. Newt became decidedly helpful for once and pointed to a room in the furthest corridor.

“Bedroom, turn,” he pointed, as if reading Thomas’s mind.

Thomas quickly rushed into the bedroom, marvelling at the sight of the king-sized bed that could probably fit a harem. Slapping himself at his thoughts, he gently laid the blonde down onto the soft sheets.

“No!” Newt protested cutely, holding onto Thomas for his dear life, “Don’t….wanna…Tommy…leave…”

Is he asking me to leave? Thomas asked himself, confused and hurt.

Newt, after a drunk realization that this brunette despite being top in his course was dumb as a rock when it came to love and hastily pulled his savior’s collar, which made Thomas fall and hit the sheets face-first.

“Hee hee,” Newt giggled a bloody uncharacteristic giggle, Thomas noted, not already realizing what Newt had been doing for the past hour was already beyond character.

“Now Tommy, bloody cuddle me before I shuck your undies,” the vice president ordered, comically trying his best to be authoritative.

Thomas couldn’t help himself and chuckled before staring dreamily at the blonde in bed. His gorgeous hair was tousled into every direction, eyes still glazed over with lust and a tiny bit of grogginess, tentative fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.

“Naughty Tommy, stripping me like that, you bloody shank,” Newt pouted adorably, a blush on his wasted face, sending every nerve in Thomas’s body shooting downwards at the innuendo and wondered if Alby made Glader slang so Newt couldn’t swear like a horny sailor anymore than usual.

Well, didn’t work too well, actually.

He realized how silent the blonde was at this moment of time and almost went over to ask whether he was okay.

That was when Newt jumped him.

With a surprised squeal (Thomas mentally berated himself for sounding like a girl) he felt a sudden weight on him and looked up to see a very, very horny Newt towering over him, lips licking appreciatively at who was under him.

“So shucking sweet of you Tommy to bring me home like that,” Newt sneered, pinning his hands on the sides of Thomas’s head with surprising strength, watching the blushing brunette under him sputter and gasp inaudibly.

“Newt! Get off!” Thomas ordered, his face turning atomic red.

“Never!” Newt retorted childishly, playing with the buttons on Thomas’s shirt, slowly, driving Thomas to the brink of his sanity.

“I’m gonna take you Tommy,” Newt whispered hoarsely, sucking the lobe of his submissive’s ear.

Thomas groaned in pleasure, his chest rising and heaving, shocked by the turn in events and the tingles of pleasure that were shooting through him.

“You like that, hmm? Tommy?” Newt bit teasingly on his lobe, his hand wandering up Thomas’s shirt and slowly, tantalizingly tracing the outline of his well-toned abs.

Thomas snapped.

Hell, Thomas thought, growling, his pride at stake, there was no way in all eleven hells would he bottom. Even if it was Newt.

With adrenalin pumping through his veins, he shoved the blonde off of him firmly. Newt yelped in surprise at the sudden spiralling force on his body and tumbled to the other side of the bed.

There was a moment of silence when Newt didn’t move.

Thomas looked up cautiously, wondering if he broke him already.

And then came the sobbing.

Shuck, crap, fuck, oh fuck, mothershucker and all the obscenities spilled from his mind at once.

“Newt! Are you alright?” Thomas demanded, quickly moving over to his side and grabbing his shoulder.

“Go away you shucking shank!” Newt cried out, choking on his sobs.

Thomas felt a ton of guilt and worry pull him down, and slowly, gently turned the blonde over.

Newt, beautiful Newt, was crying. His normally bright brown eyes glittered with tears, face flushed with guilt and sadness, his body shivering - not in excitement - but in fear.

“Newt, I’m sorry, I’m so shucking sorry,” Thomas’s voice trembled, overcome with regret as he pulled the crying blonde closer to his body, his arms wrapped around him protectively as he heard choked sobs from his chest, shaky fingers pulling on his shirt.

“Nobody ever has time for me,” Newt whispered.

“That’s not true,” Thomas replied, shamelessly relieved that Newt was finally sober and not trying to get in his pants.

“It is!” Newt responded indignantly, sniffing, “It’s always ‘Newt here’s your paperwork’, ‘Newt we need you to come on the weekends’, ‘Newt I broke up with my boyfriend what should I do?’. ‘Newt I’m shucked as all hell and I can’t find my shucking pants’.”

Thomas spluttered at the perfect imitation of Minho.

“They never have time to listen to me, they don’t think of whether I’m okay or whether I’m having a bad day and know not to shucking bother me and I’m just so bloody shucking sick being the Vice President everybody has to look up to!” Newt blurted out, drowning himself in Thomas’s scent, more tears trickling down his cheeks.

Thomas bit his lip at this and suddenly felt like a piece of klunk. He hadn’t been here long but somehow…he knew how Newt felt. He was the school’s model student, a figure of excellence and it was natural everybody depended on him, maybe a little too much.

He was the glue, the one who united everyone together. So nobody would fall apart. He was naive and kind to the point of breaking. He was a leader, he was an idol, but he was still human. The way he was breaking down now made Thomas’s theory right.

"I’m always listening to everyone, making sure they don’t shucking kill themselves or harm anyone else because that’s my job. Taking care of all the stupid work people force on me cos they’re so shucking busy my arse,” he complained, releasing all his pent up frustration and emotion onto Thomas.

“Nobody cares for me…not my juniors…my mentors….my friends,” he hugged Thomas’s waist fearfully, as if he would disappear at any moment, “Nobody.”

“That’s not true, Newt,” Thomas spoke quietly, playing with the blonde’s unruly hair, his chin resting on his head, “I care.”

Newt choked out another sob, “No you don’t.”

Thomas placed his hands on the blonde angel’s shoulders and pulled him up, so his face was at eye level, and God, the blonde looked beautiful crying.

“Newt, I love you. The minute you came into my life, I fell in love with you,” Thomas smiled genuinely, a tint of red on his cheeks, “you’re kind, you’re caring, and you’re beautiful. Ever since Day One I’ve wanted to touch you. Hold you. Kiss you.”

Hearing this, Newt stopped sobbing and blinked away his tears, a blush of his own forming at this confession.

“Oh sucks, Tommy you bloody shank,” Newt choked, “you’re just saying that so I can stop sobbing my stupid arse off.”

Thomas chuckled at this and without even thinking, pressed his lips onto Newt’s forehead. It was brief and short, and by the time he realized he just kissed Newt, the blonde boy himself was blushing to the roots of his hair.

“T-Tommy…” he gaped at him, “I know you want to make me stop crying but you didn’t have to - ”

Thomas tilted his head at Newt in response, “So you don’t like me?”

As if this way payback from just now, Thomas gave Newt his own version of the puppy dog eyes and the sober blonde looked away with a mixture of embarrassment, affection and shock.

Newt returned his gaze on his brunette friend who waited patiently for his answer.

“Y-You’re not shucking drunk are you? You’re not saying things you don’t bloody mean, right?” Newt asked curiously, a prick of hope in his chest.

To his own chagrin, he had the hots for the cute Greenie himself, he didn’t even bloody know that he was new until he introduced himself. The attraction was just natural and Newt was embarrassed for admitting it. The Greenie was adorable and hot and to be so caring to the point of carrying him to his own room so he didn’t get molested by Gally and listening to all his problems like this made Newt very happy.

But if he was joking….Newt prepared to drown himself in more shots of Gally’s special brew.

As if to confirm his confession, Thomas brought his hand to the blonde’s neck and slammed his lips on his.

It was electrifying, the way all their emotions surged into that one kiss, Thomas’s love and care for his angel and Newt’s desperation and possessiveness, wanting more of the brunette’s comforting taste.

Thomas was passionate and rough, sucking and biting onto the blonde’s lower and his tongue….oh Lord….just that alone could’ve made Newt cum, making the hairs on his body stand on end the way Thomas was snogging him.

They broke off their kiss with saliva trickling down their lips. They were both blushing ridiculously red, despite Thomas being the attacker and shouldn’t actually be blushing. Newt grinned at the other Glader’s surprising shyness.

“You’re so shucking adorable, Tommy,” Newt chuckled.

Thomas glared at him and flumped onto the comfy bed in exhaustion. Glancing over at his blonde counterpart who lay down beside him, eyes no longer sad or lusty and a genuine smile on his beautiful face.

“Thank you Tommy, that was the best Christmas present I’ve ever got,” Newt blushed, watching in amusement as the brunette widened his eyes in shock like a deer in headlights.

“It’s Christmas!?” Thomas yelled in shock.

“Shhh, Tommy, people are sleeping,” Newt laughed, snuggling closer to his now boyfriend, appreciative of the warmth from the bulkier boy’s body, “and yes, it’s Christmas, you bloody shank."

Thomas sighed in frustration and relaxed in the sheets, laying a protective arm around his angel, feeling the warm thump of the blonde’s heartbeat as drowsiness and exhaustion finally took him. He mentally swore to buy last-minute presents for the Gladers in the morning.

"Merry Christmas, Newt.”

Newt smiled and placed a kiss on his boyfriend’s nose.

“Merry Shucking Christmas, Tommy.”