A/N: This story has been forming on my mind for months and months. Basically I've always thought Newt and Thomas didn't get enough time together in the Glade and then I decided to give them that. Time.

Please note that the story is rated M for several mature themes.

Feedback would be more than appreciated!

Here we go, then. Enjoy!


Woke up sweating from a dream

With a different kind of feeling

The wind carried the sound of a tiny crack to Newt's ears. It sounded as if a twig had snapped under a step. The blond-haired boy whirled around, his eyes scanning the forest around him. It was silent, almost too silent. The faint light of the early evening barely made its way through the thick foliage overhead. Newt furrowed, confused, but after a while of standing still and observing, he turned back towards where he was heading, starting to walk forward with more hesitant steps.

He passed several large trees until he heard the voice again. This time he was sure it came behind him – and much closer. Newt turned on his heels again and startled as he saw a figure – a very familiar one – right there.

"What the bloody- Tommy?" Newt stared at the dark-haired boy with a surprise clear on his face, taking an involuntary step back.

Thomas stood only about a few yards away. How did he manage to move almost without a bloody sound so fast? He was looking at Newt with such intensity in his eyes it took Newt's breath away.

The Greenie was clothed as usual, the sleeves of his pale blue shirt rolled up to his elbows. His stance was rigid somehow, his fingers itching slightly, and what is that look in his eyes?

As Newt frowned again, Thomas licked his lips and finally said with a strangely husky voice, "Newt, I was looking for you."

"Well, here I am. What'd you need me for, then, Tommy?" Newt asked, crossing his arms, feeling a bit uneasy now. A sliver of worry flickered in the pit of his stomach.

Slowly Thomas took a tiny step forward, closer to Newt, never taking his eyes off of the older boy.

"I had.. something important on my mind," Thomas said quietly, taking another step forward.

Newt swallowed hard without really knowing why. He stood still, as if frozen to the spot, watching Thomas's every move closely.

"I'm.. listening," Newt said, his voice a bit strained now. As Thomas got closer to him, he felt himself stepping back, his heel hitting the bark of a tree. How did that buggerin' tree come so close?

"Why do you back away from me, Newt?" Thomas whispered. He was so close now that Newt heard him clearly even though his voice was quiet and low.

"I-I'm not- Tommy, what are-" Newt tried, but stopped short as he felt a finger press against his lips. Newt's eyes widened a bit and he took a quick intake of breath as he stared into Thomas's stormy eyes. They were only inches apart from his own.

"Shh.. Newt.. I really like it when you call me Tommy, you knew that?" Thomas's lips curled into a devilish smirk and his hazel eyes burned as his voice whispered the words.

Newt moved his lips slightly, shocked by Tommy's words and his acts. He tried to wrap his mind around what was happening, but he couldn't – and then Thomas brushed his lips with his thumb, his gaze lowering to where his finger was resting.

Newt's heart was pounding fast in his chest and some wild, strong emotion was unfurling low in his belly. His lips tingled under Thomas's touch and his breathing started to grow heavy. What.. what is this?

Thomas began to lean closer ever so slowly, slipping his other hand to the side of Newt's neck, caressing it gently under his touch. Newt's eyes fell shut at the sensation. This was unlike everything he'd ever experienced before. The touch was simple, but so intimate somehow, and it was slowly but surely driving him crazy.

Their bodies were almost touching now. Newt's hands were shaking uselessly by his sides. Thomas was so, so close.. And then he felt a brush of lips on his ear. Thomas's lips sucked his earlobe lightly, his hot breath fanning over his skin. Newt felt as if his whole body was on fire, he was shaking and a quiet moan escaped his lips. He couldn't understand what this all was about, but he couldn't have cared less about the why at the moment, as long as Thomas kept touching him.

"How do you feel, Newt? How do I make you feel?" Thomas sighed into his ear. His lips left a trail of tiny, slow pecks along his jaw and Newt strained his neck to the side slightly to give him more room to play with.

"I-ah-Thhomas-" Newt breathed weakly, his skin heavy with sensations.

Thomas pulled his lips away from Newt's skin, staying at a close proximity. As Newt slowly opened his heavy eyelids, he found himself lost in the hazel-coloured, burning irises. His breath stuttered in his chest as Thomas's hand moved to thread itself in Newt's hair on the side of his head.

"My.. Tommy," Newt whispered. Thomas's eyes seemed to flare into an even brighter fire at that and suddenly his lips were swallowing his own hungrily.

Newt's eyes closed shut as he felt his back slam to the bark of the tree behind him. His hands found their way to Thomas's body, his fingers exploring his strong sides, moving along his back as Thomas kissed him with such fierceness that was sure to bruise his lips. Not that Newt minded in the least.

Their bodies pressed tightly together. Thomas savoured Newt's mouth earnestly, his hands buried in Newt's hair, pulling it at times. Their kiss was almost desperate, it burned like a bright fire, hot and dangerous. They clung to each other, gasping into each other's mouths and Newt felt like his world was going to explode.

That was, until he felt Thomas's hands lower on his body, one of his hands coming lower and lower until it descended right on top of his hardened front, squeezing lightly.

Newt's eyes snapped open at the contact that sent waves and waves of unexpected pleasure, dizziness and desire wash through his entire body. The emotion was so strong that he felt something shatter inside himself, and somehow his whole sight started to spin, faster and faster. He tried calling out to Thomas as his touch started to distance itself from him, his figure blurring before him, the whole world spinning, spinning, spinning..

*.*.*

Newt bolted upright in a flash. His whole body was covered in sweat and he was breathing hard, as if he had just run a marathon. His eyes scanned the dark room wildly, trying to make sense of what was going on. As his eyes adjusted to the lighting, he realised that he was inside the Homestead, on his very own bed. He eased his tightened fists from the sheets that were tangled in his legs and stuck his hands in his hair, shaking his head in order to make sense of things.

He had dreamed. Of Thomas. Dreamed a very vivid dream indeed. A bright flush rose to his cheeks at the mere thought of it and a strange emotion churned in his stomach. What the bloody-

At that moment, he became conscious of another sensation. He had this sticky, wet feeling just under the waistline of his trousers..

Newt moaned aloud. "Oh for the love of-"

The flush on Newt's cheeks burned even hotter now, if that was even possible. His insides felt all tense and his mind was one jumbled mess. He wiped his face with his hands, groaning.

He had just had a very passionate dream of the Glade's newest Greenie. And he had come straight in his pants by the thought of making out with him.

He was so shucked.