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Masterpieces (Newtmas)

~•~In a room full of art, I'd still stare at you~•~

Thomas wasn't a huge fan of art. Don't get me wrong. He didn't necessarily hate paintings and sculptures and all of that. But he just didn't exactly love it either.
He didn't get how people could spend hours and hours, just walking around museums and galleries and just watching the paintings on the wall, like they were extraordinary beautiful.
He didn't get the deeper meaning behind them. How could a painting of one single apple, mean everything from love to hatred and everything that's wrong with the world. He just didn't understand.

He usually despised going to museums. He sometimes went with Teresa, because she was his best friend and she needed him for moral support and blah blah blah... He only ever went with her to prove her that he's a good friend, which of course he was. Ever since when he was a kid, museums kind of scared him because of all the "smart" people there.

But this time it was different. This time he had Newt with him. Oh, Newt. His Newt.

They were only dating for a couple of months now, but Thomas could swear that those were the best few months of his life.

They met through Minho who was their mutual friend. Thomas knew him, because they were together on the track team. Newt was his neighbour so they practically knew each other their whole lives. Newt came to watch one of their practices once and ever since Thomas couldn't keep his eyes off of him.
He started hanging out with Minho a lot more than he used to, just so that he could see Newt more often (and also because he found Minho funny, but he would never tell him that).

Even though Thomas would flirt with Newt all the time, it took them quite long to start dating - around a year to be exact. This was probably because of Thomas's bad flirting skills (which he insisted were really good) and Newt's total obliviusness. They probably wouldn't even be dating now, if it wasn't for Minho.

Thomas smiled fondly at the memory.

He was sitting behind Minho and Newt's lunch table, that over the year became his lunch table too. He was looking longingly at Newt, who was, as always, reading his book and paying no attention to him, whatsoever. Thomas didn't see him, stealing shy glances of him, every time he looked down. Minho stared at his best friends, angry and frustrated because of how oblivious they were to everything that was happening between them.

"Okay, you know what shanks!? What's enaugh is enaugh!" yelled Minho and slammed his hands on the table. Both boys froze and stared at him, wide-eyed and in shock.

"When will you two just finally confess your love for one another and deal with it like normal people do!? I can't stand watching you both being so stupid about it! It's time for you two to tell each other how you feel! Now!" he yelled.

Thomas's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe the words that came out of his friend's mouth. He looked around, checking if anyone heard what just happened. A few heads were turned towards them, but no one made a big deal about it. He sighed.

Then he scanned the room once again until his eyes met Newt's.

He looked even more confused than Thomas. His cheeks were red out of embarrassment and he looked so cute that Thomas just couldn't help himself. He stood up, walked around the table and plopped himself next to Newt.

"Tommy, what are you-" Thomas cut him off with a kiss. He pressed his lips against Newt's, his heart racing like crazy. He couldn't believe it. He was actually doing it. He was kissing Newt!

Then the sudden realisation hit him like a brick. He was kissing Newt, but Newt wasn't kissing him back. Thomas's heart fell to the ground, the butterflies in his stomach, suddenly became tornadoes. He separated himself from Newt, trying to hide the sadness in his voice when he spoke:

"Newt... I'm so so so so so incredibly sorry, I shouldn't have... I should have ask-"

His heart skipped a bit. This time he was cut off by Newt's pink, soft lips pressed against his own. The shock lasted only a second before he started kissing him back.

It was magical. It was even better that he expected it to be. Newt's lips were so soft and they tasted so, oh, incredible. A mix of vanilla and coffee at the same time, and somehow it tasted so awfully sweet and sour at the same time. They fitted so well between his own and all Thomas wanted was to stay in this moment with Newt forever.

But they were interrupted by Minho's loud screams.

"Stop it! Stop it! Oh, my poor innocent eyes!" screamed their friend as loud as he possibly could.

They broke apart and both looked at Minho.

"Didn't you say you wanted us to tell each other our feelings?" Newt asked him, his smirk growing wider and wider.

"Yeah! But with that I didn't mean to go and eat each other's faces!" cried Minho.

Thomas turned back to Newt, a smile grin forming on his lips.

"Well... I quite enjoyed it. Care to do this more often?" he asked Newt, his heart almost escaping from his body.

Newt's cheeks tinted pink and all Thomas wanted to do, was to kiss the blush off of his cheeks again.

"Yeah. Yeah we should," Newt whispered with a small smile on his beautiful lips.

Thomas could swore he never felt happier in his entire life.

And now here he was, just four months later, standing by his gorgeous boyfriend, looking at the paintings on the walls. He knew Newt loved art and wanted to become an artist himself one day, so he never complained when he asked him to come along to this things. Thomas always wanted his boyfriend to be happy and to achieve his dreams, so he could never complain. And Newt, for some reason, made galleries and museums so much more interesting.

Thomas looked at his boyfriend, who was still talking about the painting in front of them, like it was the most important thing in the whole entire world. Thomas just stared at his handsome, hazel-coloured eyes, that were sparkling like diamonds when he talked about something he loved. And Thomas finally realised that he didn't care if he had to spend all of his life in museums or galleries, as long as he had his Newt with him.

Because to him, Newt was his entire world. To him he was the prettiest painting, the most elegant sculpture, the greatest masterpiece ever created. And even now when the room was full of art, he still stared at him, because to him, Newt was more beautiful than every diamond or every painting.

"I love you."

The words stumbled so effortlessly from his mouth. It was the first time he said it. It felt amazing. Like a sudden weight was lifted off his shoulders, like finnaly everything just made sense.

But then came a moment of doubt, when Newt didn't say anything back. It was pain, bigger than he has ever experienced in his life before, and even though it only lasted a second before Newt responded, Thomas knew that he never wanted to feel this kind of pain again.

"I love you too," Newt whispered before he kissed him.

It was wonderful. It was slow and sweet, but passionate and meaningful at the same time. And for once in his life, Thomas finally felt like he was flying. And he knew that as long as he was with Newt, that feeling will never go away. Because Newt was his own masterpiece and he made him feel like a masterpiece. Together they were breathtaking.

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A/N - Yep. That's it. I hope this doesn't suck, because I'm actually proud of it a little bit. And also, now I want to fall in love in an art gallery???
Anyway thanks for all you support and likes and thank you for reading this! I love you all so much!
P.s. Feedback is very appreciated! 💕