I'm actually surprised that I've managed to keep my updating schedule for this. This chapter I like a lot more than the previous and I have plans for this one *Sexual Emoji* But no smut in case I just mislead you. And I am so done with Teen Wolf because like Stiles and his Jeep are just the best and just like ugh do you understand my pain?

He'd been in his room for a month now. Thomas had made no effort to contact Newt, and he ignored the blonde whenever the other tried to call. He would only leave his room a couple of times, which was for work, food, and the bathroom. Thomas had occasionally spotted Newt in the strip club, and he could see that the other was dying to talk to him. But he always left before Newt found him and got the chance.

It wasn't like he didn't want to talk to Newt. It was actually quite difficult for him to stay in his room and avoid the other. It killed him, and he only did it because he was so scared to simply have that conversation with him that Minho and Ash had mentioned. He was a coward in that sense, and while avoiding Newt proved to be difficult, it was possible.

But it also made him more miserable than he'd ever been before. He'd thought that Newt had made his life hell, even accepted it a few times, but it was nothing compared to what he felt now. Thomas felt like whatever life was inside of him, had faded. Now he was filled with darkness, and it was like the only one that could pull him out, was the one person he wouldn't let himself talk to.

He cried every night, barely slept or ate at all because he couldn't make the effort, and his mind constantly raced with what ifs. What if he hadn't met Newt? What if they just talked and met up somewhere? The list went on and on, and he hated the weakness he felt in his heart from not feeling familiar arms around his waist. It was never intimate, but it was still a touch he yearned to get back.

Thomas had lost a considerable amount of weight, often only eating one meal a day. It had become noticeable by now, and he'd been close to being fired a few days ago if he didn't get it together soon. A stripper needed a specific body, and it couldn't be someone that was only skin and bones. Not that that's what he was, he was still far from getting there, but if he continued down the same road he currently found himself on, he'd be there soon enough.

Besides the fact that he was skinnier, the lack of sleep had also made itself noticeable through his eyes. They were dull and lacked life, and anyone that looked into them could tell that he was sad. Some could even go as far and say that he was depressed, but he didn't like to say that. He'd gotten mad when Minho had suggested a therapist for his depression, furious even, and he ended up throwing a vase to the floor before running to his room like a child throwing a tantrum.

He and Minho had grown distant since then.

His friend was worried, but he had a tough love approach to things, and so ignoring Thomas was what he did unless they would yell at each other a few times. Ash was a bit nicer, but she herself wasn't doing that great, so she was often reading to get her mind off everything. They rarely saw each other anymore despite living under the same roof.

Minho and Ash had both noticed what staying away from Newt had done to Thomas, and they hated to admit that not seeing him was almost worse than seeing him. It was what they'd wanted, especially Minho, but now that it had happened, it was worse than before.

Thomas really needed Newt.

It was funny how that worked. Newt having the need for sex whilst Thomas had the need to just be with Newt in whatever way possible. They were a mess together, but even more a mess when they were apart. It was all so hopeless, because whatever Thomas did, he ended up in a worse state than before.

It was now a Saturday, and Thomas found himself in bed like usual, crying into his pillow as if that would drown his sorrows away. He didn't have to go into work today, and he hated to admit that he was slightly relieved. But then that feeling quickly went away as he realized that he'd be stuck in bed thinking all day. Thomas had come to hate his thoughts, whatever they were, because it always brought him down.

Minho and Ash were gone for the day, the boy deciding to take her to the book shop as she'd read through all her books again that were on her shelf. Thomas didn't mind, it's not like he would've done something with them if they would've been here. It was still painfully quiet though, normally he would hear Minho screaming in the living room if someone shot him long distance in another shooting game that he played. Thomas used to play with him. Used to.

He grudgingly got up, feeling utterly weak as he hadn't eaten since the morning before. He almost collapsed at first, but he held onto the bed before he completely lost his footing and fell to the floor. Thomas had only slept three hours, and he knew that it was obvious based on how exhausted he was.

Thomas went to take a shower, because no matter how he felt, he always found time to take one. He enjoyed longer showers nowadays, the water blocking out all sounds, leaving him to his painful thoughts that all consisted of a certain blonde. He'd figured out ages ago that he really liked Newt. So, he found himself thinking of that exact person.

He'd wanted to call Newt up for days now, but he kept holding himself back because he knew that it wouldn't do him any better. But he was at a really low point, and he couldn't really go any lower. Besides, his phone constantly being beside him wasn't doing him any favors as he could always unlock it and dial the others number in a second. He'd memorized it a while back. It was etched deep inside his memory that he could simply not erase as much as he wanted to.

He stepped out of the shower then, wrapping a towel around his waist without bothering to dry off the rest of his body first. Thomas quickly went back to his room, getting three pain killers out of a box that he'd hidden underneath his bed. It was probably one of the worst places to hide medication, but he honestly couldn't find it in him to care anymore if someone else found it.

Ten minutes later, he found himself on the balcony smoking a cigarette with his phone tightly gripped in his hands. He'd spent the last hour thinking about giving in, calling Newt and letting Newt do whatever he wanted if they could at least see each other. He was still too scared to have that one conversation, but any other conversation worked fine for him.

Thomas knew it wasn't a good idea. He knew it well. But a huge part of him told him that it's better to be miserable with someone else than being miserable alone. Newt would be helping him in a way. Now why would he say no to that?

He let out a long sigh as he hovered over the lock screen with his thumb, throwing his cigarette off the railing with his other hand. Thomas closed his eyes then, as if that would help him make his final decision that wouldn't end well either way. That very thought alone is how he ended up with another cigarette between his lips and a phone to his ear, calling the one person he hadn't spoken a word to in over a month.

"Nice to know that you know I still exist." Thomas stayed quiet, the voice on the other end almost being unknown by now, but once he heard it again, he realized just how much he missed it. Just Newt's voice alone made his heart feel a bit more complete. He really hated that.

"Are you ever gonna say something?" And then Thomas decided that he couldn't do it. He freaked out and hung up before he could say anything. Calling Newt had definitely made things worse in a second, not better. And now he longed for Newt more than before, because just his voice made Thomas realize that he needed to see him. There was no other option for him. He was about to text Newt, maybe not hearing the blonde would make it easier, but he got a notification saying the other had beat him to his thoughts.

I miss you xxx

Three very simple words, but they impacted Thomas in a way that he never thought possible. He knew that he missed Newt too, but he didn't know what he could've said.

I'd say I miss you too but I don't know how sincere your words are.

Five minutes later, he finally got a reply, and it wasn't one he expected.

Why can't I miss you? I haven't seen you in ages and you've ignored me. Of course I'm going to miss you.

Thomas threw the second cigarette down the balcony, going over to sit on the sofa as he thought of his next reply. If Newt could write something unexpected, then so could Thomas. But he didn't exactly realize what he'd said until it was already sent.

Can we smoke again? Relax a little?

It took another fifteen minutes for Newt to reply after he'd sent the message, and he'd told himself that it was because he'd caught Newt off guard. He hoped so.

What do I get in return?

Thomas sighed. He knew that there was only one thing Newt could possibly want with him. And while it broke him down even more, he told himself he barely cared. He didn't exactly have any self worth left and he was vulnerable too. And so, he replied with two words.

My body.

And this time it only took a few seconds for him to get another message.

Deal.

It sickened Thomas that Newt agreed to it, but he hadn't exactly expected anything less from him. Newt was that type of person, someone that didn't care much for anyone. He lacked empathy, at least Thomas thought he did after knowing him for a few months now. Newt didn't seem to realize how ruined Thomas had become at the hands of him.

And maybe that was Thomas' fault. If he just dared to talk to Newt about them together, then maybe they wouldn't be having any of these problems. Maybe they'd be in an actual loving relationship, or they'd be over for good. But Thomas couldn't find it in him to do it. In the end it was his fault, and Newt was just a part of it that triggered everything.

He stepped in his car an hour later, dressed in a button down and some jeans that were left in his closet. Thomas wore a jacket too, mainly because it was cold outside, and despite being in a car with heating, he'd need it.

It took a while to get to Newt's, mainly because his memory of the street was faded. It'd been too long. He would've called the blonde up normally, maybe asked where to go, but he didn't want to. Thomas wouldn't talk to Newt until he was standing on the other boys front door.

And eventually he was. It took a while, but he was there. Thomas stood in front of the door for a few minutes, staring at the tag beside it that read the other's last name and first initial.

N. Brodie-Sangster

He'd definitely found it. He rung the door bell before he changed his mind, and it didn't take long before the door was opened with a very familiar blonde standing on the other side. Thomas gave a forced smile, while Newt returned one that actually seemed genuine. As if Newt was actually happy to see him after so long. It made Thomas feel uneasy, almost like he was walking into some sort of trap, but he trusted Newt enough to think that the other wouldn't try anything.

"You can step inside, Tommy." Thomas blushed in response to the nickname, nevertheless doing what the blonde said before slipping out of his shoes. He heard the door shut behind him and felt Newt walk past him and into the living room. All he did was follow, not saying a word.

Newt had a massive couch in the living room, so Thomas sat on the other end of the blonde. Keeping his distance was probably the best thing to do until he felt a bit less tense and more comfortable. The blonde only gave him a look, confused but not asking any questions.

"Can I get you something to drink? You look terrible." Thomas rolled his eyes, not wanting to believe that Newt had really just said that to him. Like he needed the blonde to tell him he looked terrible while he himself looked like an angel sent from hell.

"Like I need you telling me how terrible I look. That's sure gonna help my self esteem." He spat back, and the blonde was taken slightly by surprise.

"You look terrible as in you look unhealthy. It's actually worrying me." Thomas grew seemingly more frustrated, the urge to run back out the door growing by the minute.

"You? Worried? That's the biggest fucking lie I've ever heard in my life." Newt sighed, getting up to get a glass of water for the other in the kitchen. He returned less than a minute later, putting the water near Thomas' reach on the coffee table.

"I can't worry about you?"

"No, you can't. You never have so you can't start now. Now give me the damn joint so I can relax my nerves before I slam your head into the coffee table like you did to that stranger when we met."

"You don't have the strength to do that. Not bad with the aggression though." Thomas stood still for a moment. He hadn't realized just how obvious his weight loss may've become.

"You like me being aggressive? Oh, I'll show you aggressive." He got up from his place on the couch, storming over to Newt to grab him by the collar of his shirt. The blonde didn't flinch, almost as if he'd seen it coming. He laughed instead, and Thomas was so close to punching him in the face.

"You remind me of someone. Quite interesting how much you've changed." Thomas let go of the boys collar, but he stood close in case he grew the urge to hit the other again.

"Who the hell do I remind you of?" Newt smirked, and it infuriated Thomas even more.

"You remind me quite a bit of myself, wouldn't you say?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"See. There we go. Do you really not see how you and I are similar?" Thomas thought for a moment, and then it was like something snapped in him and he froze. Newt was right. He was acting up just like Newt tended to. He was losing his temper quickly. He was less social just like Newt. He used drugs and alcohol to feel better. And maybe Newt didn't use those things for that particular reason but he still used them. He was slowly turning into the blonde right in front of him.

"Funny how accurate my words are don't you think?"

"Just give me a fucking drink and a joint and I'll be fine." Thomas' head suddenly hurt, as if knowing how alike he and the blonde were, suddenly seemed to put things in a different perspective. If he always complained about Newt, didn't he complain about himself at the same time too?

"I already gave you water."

"Don't play smart with me. You know exactly what I want." Newt nodded, an evil glint in his eyes before he went back into the kitchen, coming out with a wine bottle a few seconds later.

"This isn't a romantic date. Why the wine? I meant something stronger."


"I'm already letting you have a joint for free, the least you can do is let me decide on what drink I'm offering. I don't just offer up my drugs normally so be a little appreciative. You have to be special enough. So far you're the only one that can boss me around that way." Thomas shut up then, mainly because he was scared that if he agitated Newt any further, things could end really bad.

"S-sorry." He said suddenly, his anger fading into fear.

"Don't be. I find it oddly attractive when you act a bit crazy."

"I thought I was making you angry." Newt laughed then, and it was a real laugh that Thomas rarely got to hear. It surprised him, how smoothly it ran past the blondes lips, as if he laughed all the time. But Thomas knew that he didn't, and maybe that's why he was so shocked.

"Why would you think that?"

"Your eyes." The blonde opened the wine bottle, a pop sounding in the room before he sat down again and filled up two glasses that had already been on the table before Thomas had arrived.

"What about my eyes, Tommy?"

"They looked angry. I'm sorry. That sounds stupid doesn't it?" Newt chuckled.

"No, it doesn't sound stupid. But I'm not angry either."

"Then what are you?" The blonde stayed quiet after that, seeming to think of his answer while Thomas took a sip of the white wine provided.

"Aroused." Thomas was glad that he'd already swallowed his drink, because he was sure that he'd spit it out onto the carpet otherwise.

"You're what?" Newt stood up again, walking over to the gaping boy whilst playing with the rim of the wine glass in his hand before he sat down next to him.

"I said I'm aroused."

"Oh, I heard you loud and clear."

"So you know how I'm lusting for you then?" And then Thomas saw it. The evil glint in Newt's eyes hadn't been anger, it had been his usual self trying to pull Thomas in until he got what he want. And it was working again. It always did, but Thomas tried his hardest not to give in.

"Newt, we can't. Please." The blonde gave him a look of disbelief, then a smile before he chugged his wine, setting the glass down onto the table.

"Can't what? You told me you'd give me your body for a joint Tommy."

"Well first off, you haven't exactly given me that yet. And second off, I'm not just gonna give you what you want."

"You agreed to it." Newt seemed frustrated by Thomas' sudden will to say no, but he was gonna stand his ground whilst still keeping his end of the deal.

"I'll do anything but sex. For once can we just not have sex? It's all I ask." The blonde was quiet, seeming to be considering what Thomas had said.

"You're a stripper." Newt mumbled. It seemed like he hadn't meant to say it out loud, but Thomas responded anyway.

"Thanks for that obvious statement."

"How about this, we don't have sex, but you strip for me."

"You must be joking." Newt only kept a straight face, and the other knew that he wasn't instantly.

"Do I look like I'm joking to you?" Thomas shook his head.

"Point taken. I guess I'm stripping."

"How about a lap dance while we're at it?" Thomas stood up as Newt had spoken, standing in front of him as the blonde looked up at him with a mischievous smile.

"I don't do lap dances."

"What type of stripper doesn't do lap dances?" Newt asked with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Thomas thought it actually looked kind of cute.

"I don't. But I guess you can be my only exception." He said out of the blue, surprising himself at the random spark of confidence when he was completely clueless.

"Well, don't I feel special now." The blonde said as he gestured for Thomas to come closer.

"I don't know how this works though, so I hope you know that I'm winging this." Newt wrapped his arms around Thomas' waist, nodding his head in response.

Thomas sat on Newt's lap, his legs apart as he straddled the younger boy, keeping him in place as he bucked his hips, a moan leaving both their lips quickly. He wanted to laugh at himself, because he still didn't know how he was gonna continue this. Whatever it really was. He continued the movement he was doing though, circling his hips whilst moving them up and down at a painfully slow pace, biting his lower lip as he kept eye contact with Newt.

"Am I doing what you want Newt?" He asked, a moan escaping his lips right afterwards. Newt only closed his eyes, nodding in response as his hands were firmly holding Thomas' hips, leaving a warmth where he held onto.

"Tommy, can't you move faster?" Thomas was well aware of the friction between them both, so he didn't hesitate to pick up his pace as their moans became louder.

But then he stopped, letting a small laugh escape his lips as he saw how needy Newt looked trapped beneath his legs. Thomas leaned closer to the others ear with his lips, a smirk on his face as he whispered.

"Does it feel good?"

"Just shut up." Thomas laughed and got to work on unbuttoning the top button on his shirt, working his way down.

He reached the third button, revealing a part of his chest already, but then something seemed to take over Newt and he couldn't take it anymore. Thomas had always expected Newt to be strong, but when he tugged on both open ends of Thomas' shirt, it suddenly unbuttoned entirely as some of the buttons completely fell off.

"You just ruined my shirt."

"Cry over it tomorrow. I'll buy a new one. Take it off now before I go crazy." Thomas didn't protest further. He took it off hastily and threw it to the side before kissing Newt. The blonde was taken by surprise, but Thomas was even more surprised when he kissed him back. It was hungry, desperate even as Newt worked on unzipping Thomas' pants. But Thomas slapped his hands away and did it himself. Newt wanted Thomas to strip, not Newt to help Thomas with it.

Newt's tongue slipped inside Thomas' mouth, and they moaned as the blonde pulled him closer. Thomas lowered his hands to play with the hem of Newt's shirt, close to removing it before Newt pulled away and glared.

"I never gave you permission."


"I don't care." Because Thomas really didn't, and the shirt was on the floor before the blonde could say anything else, so all Newt did was pull the other back in to have their lips meet while Thomas started to move his hips again in another rhythm, driving them both wild.

He didn't manage to stand his ground that night after all.