Newt/Thomas Sangster One Shots (warning: smut)

One shot #30 ~ Sex and cigarettes

"Hey love," He smiled as he walked through the door, tossing his keys onto the counter.
"Hey," I grinned and got up from the sofa, stumbling over my feet before leaning up to kiss him.

I furrowed my brow. There was a sour taste in his mouth, a familiar scent.

"Have you been smoking?" I asked, my hand resting on his cheek.
"Yeah. Bad day. Sorry love," he sighed after a pause as his eyes lowered, seeming almost disappointed in himself.
I sighed, rubbing my thumb on his damp skin.

"You know I can't kiss you after you smoke," I smiled, trying to be sympathetic. I knew he'd been smoking a long time, and that he'd been doing his best to quit for me.
"I know," He admitted, "I didn't really think about it at the time and it's been hard to quit with all the stress at work— not that it's an excuse," he continued.

"Stress makes it worse then, huh?" I said, crossing my arms and cocking my head.
"A lot worse. I was doing well until today," He replied, turning and hanging his coat on the door.
"Hm." I acknowledged, a sprout of an idea popping into my head.

He frowned, a faint smile creeping on his face.
"What're you thinking?"
"Well...I had an idea on how I could help you," I said, sitting back down on the couch and patting a seat next to me.
"You did?" He replied and sat, intrigued by my offer. "What is it?"

"Okay, well, you said it's linked to stress, correct?" I crossed my legs and faced him.
"I did say that, yes," He chuckled.
"So...I was thinking of ways to help reduce your stress at work,"
"Okay...," He replied, sitting at the edge of the sofa and listening intently.
"And I came up with an idea, and it sounds crazy at first, but...," I took a deep breath before continuing, "I was thinking that whenever you want to have a cigarette, you should just...have me instead," I shrugged.
"Have...have you?" He asked.
"Thomas, you weren't born yesterday. You know what I mean." I laughed.

"So what you're saying is...whenever I want to smoke, I just call you? And you'll come to my workplace?—are you crazy?" He laughed.
"Well maybe I am, but it's because I care about you, Tommy," I said, taking his hand.

He nodded slowly.
"Okay. Let's try it,"
"Really?" My eyes widened.
"Yeah," he smiled.

I got up and stretched, walking away from him and toward the bedroom to get changed.

"What if I told you wanted a cigarette now?" He dared, yelling after me.
I turned around and mocked a shock expression, watching him eye me from head to toe.
"Your mouth tastes like a cigar, Tommy," I teased.
"Fine." He rolled his eyes, "But you'll have to stop calling me Tommy if you don't want me to loose all self-control."
"Fine," I mocked.

The Next Day
Oil spat from the pan as I placed some chicken into it, landing on my arm. I retracted and grabbed a towel, trying my best to wipe it away.

I jumped as my phone buzzed loudly on the countertop. Tossing the paper towel into the bin, I took it off the counter. It was Thomas.

I scoffed. I wonder what this could be about?

"Hey Tommy," I said innocently, "What's up?"
"Uhh...," He said, letting out a shaky breath, "I need you,"
"You do, Huh?" I teased, leaning on the countertop.
"Love, don't make me come over there," He tried to tease back, but I could sense his urgency.
"Alright, I'll be there in twenty," I said, traces of laughter still in my voice.
"Okay. I love you," He replied before I hung up, his voice still full of persistence.