Wrong ~ Dylmas/Newtmas

5. Are you ready?

Thomas' POV

We should be watching Finding Nemo, but instead we're talking; exchanging words about everything between heaven and Earth. It's a strange condition, feeling as if you can tell someone anything. I blurt out things I probably shouldn't, but that's the thing about Dylan. He listens. He never cuts me off and he actually understands. Somehow, he knows exactly when to crack a joke and laugh and when not to. Mostly he's serious. It's somewhat strange seeing the idiosyncratic humoristic mannerisms fall off of him, but I certainly don't hate it. It's a new side, and a very genuine one at that. I like it when people aren't one dimensional. The words continue to flow out of my mouth like water and I barely have time to think about what I say. I think I'm subconsciously trying to avoid the topic of the kiss, filling the empty spaces with childhood stories and drunken anecdotes. Alright, maybe it's not that subconscious.

Yet, of course Dylan brings it up by accident after a while, drenching the room in a silence that not even the story of how I got the scar on my head can fill. The only sound waves left are emanating from the TV, where Nemo, without any luck, is in the midst of his first attempt to escape from the the prison that is the dentist's aquarium. I sigh in my mind, suddenly feeling ridiculed by the universe. Just like Nemo, I'm trapped in this glass container. Wes and Kaya are knocking on the glass, so hard I'm scared they'll break it. Just like Nemo, my container is filled with water. Although, in contrast to dear old Nemo, who's a fish, the water is suffocating me.

After minutes of him opening and closing his mouth in poor attempts to find something to say, looking like, well, a fish out of water, Dylan abruptly breaks the silence and thus simultaneously my miserable train of thought. "Okay, I can't do this anymore."

Horrible, horrible words. "Do what?"

"Handle this..." He scrunches up his nose. "Awkwardness. Maybe we should clear the air."

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good." I nod, quite relieved by his bluntness. However, I still don't understand what the latter part of his sentence means.

"So, if you won't do it, I will." He sighs, defeated. Either his face muscles twitch, or it's just my imagination. I frown at these enigmatic words.

"Do what?"'

"This."

He abruptly leans forward and suddenly his soft lips graze mine. It's barely a peck, yet it feels like more. I imagine it's from the tension leading up to it. It does makes me feel a strange emotion that I can't quite place. It's gone as soon as it came, and I have to remind myself this is just us practicing for the screen.

We kissed. The container cracks.

Barely, Thomas. Not real, I tell myself. Don't read into it. Yet I can't seem to prevent a meteor shower of thoughts from raining down upon my mind. Why now? Why like this? It felt way too intimate, way too... Authentic. How did he just do it? Did he think it was bad? Why the hell would we even need to practice? It was Wes who told us to do it, and I decide not to question it. How the hell– 

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Dylan asks, obviously pleased with himself. The tornado of thoughts in my mind decelerates as I roll my eyes at his supercilious smirk.

"Oh, don't let it go to your head. Like, at all. That was meek. It felt like I was 14 again, sitting behind the school with Jess Brown." I told him that story earlier. I shake my head, but can't prevent a smile. My hands are shaking a bit for some reason. "You're a terrible kisser." 

"Well then we're going to need to practice more." He winks.

---

A/n:
y'all
YOU ALL

THEY KISSED
(@ james smashner nd wes ballsack pls make it real)
ik this was short but i really need to sleep now
goodnight xx