He makes me...

Chapter 2 - New Arrival, old friend

Hilo, I'm back!

Here's the next part of 'He makes me'

Please R&R and enjoy the story!!

All rights go to Jeff Davis for MTV's Teen Wolf and James Dashner for The Maze Runner

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On the plane

Come on Newt, get a grip, the blonde chided himself trying to get his sh*t together. He was currently sitting in his, now rather uncomfortable, seat on the plane (after being crammed into it for 7 hours straight even the plushest chair gets uncomfortable) waiting to get off the vehicle. He could have gotten up ten minutes ago but something was stopping him. So now he just waited for every other passenger to get off so he would have a free way. At least that's what he told himself.

Being the only person left on the plain, apart from the airhostess, he slowly got up and stretched, groaning when some joints cracked. Equally slowly he reached for his carry-on bag and marched out of the airplane.

By the time he stood at the baggage claim waiting for the rest of his luggage his nerves had once again caught up with him. After having been near a panic attack for the whole flight, he still hadn't gotten over his anxiety. Why am I so bloody scared? It's just Stiles. I know Stiles, I like Stiles... But that's just it, isn't it? He liked Stiles. A lot. But he likes me too, doesn't he? Bloody hell, I think I'm gonna be sick.

He knew Stiles liked him. After all he told him he did. But Newt seemed to miss some kind of confirmation. The last time they actually saw each other, and not just over skype, was so confusing for Newt. They had been at a reunion of their support group. Well, actually at the international meet-up of the organisation which offered those support groups.

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Newt and Stiles had met about 6 years ago. Stiles' mum had died about a year prior and Newt, whose family moved to America when he was 8 years old, had tried to kill himself 3 months prior. That's how the hyper active spazz who refused to eat and had panic attacks regularly and the depressed kid with a limp met. In a room in the back of a medical centre in Eugene, Oregon. They clicked instantly. Newt managed to calm Stiles down and in return Stiles made Newt happy.

Three years ago Newt had to move back to England and the two managed to stay in touch. They were very close and talked to each other at least once a week.

One and a half years ago this meet-up took place in San Diego and the two got to meet again. They were inseparable the whole four days. When they were back at the airport for their respective journey home, Stiles' flight to Beacon Hills leaving soon, they were anxiously clinging to each other. They had talked about everything and nothing the whole meet-up but in those last minutes they poured out everything they could come up with, knowing this was their last chance to tell the other. However, Newt was too terrified to drop his own big bomb. So when Stiles gathered his things and hugged Newt goodbye the Brit had already accepted his defeat.

What he didn't expect was for Stiles to stop and turn back to him after some steps. The dark haired boy dropped all his bags, and marched up to him. Newt had frowned, eying him confusedly: "What are ya doing? Did ya forget somet-"He was cut off mid-sentence by Stiles' lips on his.

After staring at the closed whiskey eyes for a second he shut his own eyes and kissed back, putting everything he had into this one kiss. And wow, those weren't just fireworks. He could feel atomic explosions and rabid butterflies in his gut. But the most prominent sensation were Stiles' warm and firm lips on his, moving slowly but surely. Breaking apart they rested their foreheads together and breathed heavily. Newt glanced up into Stiles' eyes and got lost in them. Through his haze Newt saw Stiles' lips curl into a small smile and he vaguely felt his lips doing the same. Just then Stiles' name was called by the airport staff.