Smut Please (boyxboy) #wattys2016

In the Long Run (Newtmas)

Thomas heard someone coming before he saw them. Following the dirt path that zigzagged through the wooded area of the park, he jogged side by side with Minho, keeping a steady pace.

"Keep up, greenie," Newt said as he whipped past him on the trail, a hand reaching out to hit Thomas' shoulder as he went by. Turning around and jogging backwards a few steps, Newt shot a grin at Thomas. "Last one back to the gym is on towel duty."

Newt turned back around and jogged on while Thomas and Minho followed behind.

"When are you guys gonna stop calling me that?" Thomas asked with somewhat forlorn sigh.

Minho barely glanced at him, checking the time on his watch as they jogged. "You've only been on the team two weeks, man. Prove yourself in the next meet and maybe someone will learn your name."

His hopes weren't high, Thomas had to admit, that anyone on the track team would learn his name before the next meet, but Minho was right. After all, he'd only moved to Portland a month ago. He was lucky he even had someone to call a friend. At his last school, he hadn't been there long enough for anyone to notice him, let alone befriend him. It was the curse of having parents who worked for the government.

They had promised this would be the last time, though. Thomas was already a junior in high school, and it would have been nice to stay somewhere longer than a few months, to possibly even make friends this time.

The path veered to the right, over the crest of a gentle hill and out between the clump of tall fir trees that populated every park in Portland, it seemed. Thomas did enjoy how green it was in Oregon, a stark change to the New Mexican desert he'd just left. He just wasn't sure he could get used to the rain. Luckily, the sky had been blue all day, only now cooling off as the sun set and evening fell.

"Pick it up," Minho said as they crested the hill, the park spreading out below them. In the distance, the flat, grey roof of the high school glinted in the light. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to be last back. Newt doesn't kid about towel duty."

Newt. The team captain. So far, Thomas hadn't learned much about him except that he was on exchange from England. That and his smile gave Thomas a weird feeling in his stomach.

He shook away the thoughts of Newt's smile and followed Minho down the hill. The whole point of joining the team had been to make friends, and to get out of the house. At least cross country meant not getting home until well after five most days. If he could avoid his parents, they wouldn't be able to tell him they'd changed their mind about staying. They always did it, and Thomas was eager to avoid it. Maybe this time really would be different.

"Heads up, boys!"

Behind them, a few girls from the girls team came jogging up. The one with dark hair, whose name Thomas could never quite remember, smiled at him as she passed. Something else twisted Thomas' stomach as the sight, but it wasn't the same thing Newt's smile did.

"Think Theresa's hot for you," Minho muttered as they followed the girls and picked up the pace as they reached flat ground.

"No, that's not—I mean, she can't—" Thomas found himself stumbling over his words as a flush rose on his neck, completely unrelated to the three miles he'd just run.

Looking over, Minho laughed to himself. "I don't think I've ever seen you flustered, Tommy boy. Except that first practice when you tripped over your own feet."

It wasn't something Thomas liked to remember, though Gally brought it up all the time. Thomas still hadn't figured out what Gally's problem with him was, but he'd had it since day one.