Thomas's pov

26 days remaining

Dylan's lips pushed against mine quickly, pinning me to the wall behind me. Usually soft and innocent though he is, it felt as though some feral animal had seized his being, overcome his thoughts and actions. His hips moved forward and pushed against mine, effectively prohibiting me from any movement at all. Unable to stop myself, a weak moan escaped me as he kissed me deep and with power, like a man starved.

My head fell back with a gasp as he pushed his hips forward again, grinding into me slowly. My fingers moved to clutch at his hair, my head angled back and exposed. As I panted for air Dylan's lips came forward, attacking my neck with light kisses. He paused when I moaned louder than before and then attacked that weak spot on my neck. His hips continued their movements but sped up slightly, and I felt my knees begin to shake as I noticeably felt his semi-hard erection rubbing against my own. I silently cursed the clothes between us but didn't say anything aloud. I couldn't, even if I wanted to, because as soon as the thought crossed my mind Dylan's lips were attacking mine again.

His fingers were suddenly under my shirt, scratching at the pale skin beneath. I tightened my grip on his hair and kissed him even harder, thrusting up to meet his hips as he grinded down on me. His hands began pushing up my shirt, balling it up as he moved--

BAM

Dylan's door swung open loudly and we sprang apart. I wacked my head on the wall with a groan and Dylan fell backwards a couple steps, turning in a daze towards his now open bedroom door.

Tyler stood in the doorway with an innocent expression etched into his face. I panted lowly, trying to catch my breath whilst rubbing at the back of my head. I swallowed roughly with my gaze locked on Tyler, whose eyes were slowly widening in shock. His surprised stare flickered between me and Dylan (who, I noticed with a smirk, was pulling his shirt lower to cover how hot and bothered he was), and finally, after none of us said anything, he grimaced.

"God, guys," he said, stepping backwards, "You've been alone for like ten minutes and you're already tearing each other's clothes off? Horny bastards."

I couldn't help but flush bright red, and Dylan let out an aggravated groan. Stepping away from the wall, I straightened my clothing and sat down on Dylan's bed.

"What do you want, Ty?" Dylan asked after glancing down at me.

Tyler smirked again, obviously noticing when Dylan didn't deny it. He said, "Your dad just got home and wants to meet Thomas. Your mom told me to get you guys. Although, I'm sure if she knew what you two were up to she wouldn't have wanted to interrupt--"

Dylan glared at him to silence him, but Tyler looked unafraid. Instead he lightly chuckled and held up his hands.

"We'll be right down," Dyl all but growled out. I bit my lip to hide my growing smile.

Nodding, Tyler turned to leave. Just before he left, however, he paused in the doorway to toss a nonchalant, "Use protection!" over his shoulder. I laughed lightly as he finally walked away.

Dylan sighed, turning to face me again. His face, previously laced with annoyance, swelled with concern as I subconsciously rubbed at the back of my head again. Immediately, I let my hand fall to my lap.

"Are you okay?" he asked me, stepping closer. His fingers moved to push through my hair, lightly massaging my head as he moved.

I stood, ignoring how close to him the action put me. "I'm fine," I said genuinely.

Dylan smirked and moved closer, and before I could pull away, his lips were on my neck again. I audibly gasped, my hands moving to clutch at his biceps as I unintentionally leaned into his touch.

"Need me to kiss it better?" he murmured against my skin. The question made my stomach flutter; I couldn't believe how forward he was being today. Or maybe he was just dominant when it came to sex--who knows?

I breathily laughed, replying quietly, "You're horny today, Jesus Christ."

Dylan retracted his lips from my neck immediately, his eyes fluttering open to meet my gaze. My smile melted when I saw the serious look in his eyes. Without any hesitation, he answered, "Jesus isn't the one who's horny. I am."

My eyes narrowed. I hated when he went all grammar-nazi on me. Then after a few seconds, his words registered in my head and I groaned, letting my head fall onto his shoulder.

"Please don't refer to Jesus as being horny," I grimaced. "It's just...wrong."

Dylan chuckled and stepped back, forcing me to drop my arms. I watched him fidget for a moment uncomfortably, seemingly distraught.

"Are you okay?" I asked this time.

Dylan smiled, albeit with embarrassment. "Yeah, I just..."

I arched an eyebrow, never letting my eyes leave his suddenly blushing cheeks. He looked adorable when he blushed. I wanted to make him blush more, just so I could watch him fidget again. Dylan bit his lip, continuing with a sigh.

"I have a--uh...a problem."

"A problem?"

"...Yes."

"What kind of problem?" I tilted my head in confusion and continued, "Do you need help?"

"I...well, yes, but...not right now," Dylan blushed furiously, but I didn't miss the lustful glint in his eye when he finally met my gaze again.

Then it clicked, and I glanced down. Oh. That sort of a problem.

I choked on a laugh, but deep down I was extremely flattered. And starting to feel turned on again. I had to look away, smirking at Dylan's cherry-red face. He looked like he wanted to burst into flames as he tugged at his shirt, pulling it down to cover his lower region.

"Just think of something gross," I said, biting my lip. It took all of my self-restraint not to make fun of him. Or pounce on him.

Dylan tightly grimaced as if he was in pain. He probably was. "Like what?"

I hesitated. "Like your...grandmother?"

Dylan pouted. "I love my grandma."

"How about your grandmother naked?"

Dylan suddenly stopped moving, looking at me in disgust. "Ew, that's gross."

"How about your grandmother naked while having floppy sex with--"

"Thomas! My god! My ears!" Dylan yelped loudly. His eyes had widened to his saucers and then he clamped them shut, obviously trying to rid his mind of the images that I had just created. I laughed loudly at his innocent reaction.

Finally, a few minutes after my laughter had subsided and Dylan's problem had gone away, we headed downstairs.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Nearly five hours later, Dylan, myself, Julia, and Dylan's parents all sat around their kitchen table. Tyler had left about twenty minutes ago. Dinner had past hours ago (and holy fuck Mrs. O'Brien can cook a mean meatloaf) and now we all sat relaxed, just chatting amicably. I was only slightly surprised by how comfortable I already felt in their home. The O'Briens were all extremely welcoming people, and did not even give me a chance to feel as if I was intruding.

Meeting Mr. O'Brien was....an experience, to say the least. He was a tall man with broad shoulders, and his presence alone demanded respect. Despite his overpowering demeanor, however, I was quick to learn that he was actually a very friendly, very comical guy. Quite like his wife, he did not interrogate me or make me feel uncomfortable in any way; instead, he lightly joked with me, even going as far as to make fun of my British accent. When I took on an American accent instead, jokingly saying how "I'd rather sound like I was having tea with the queen than going to a rodeo to drink beer and have bacon-covered hamburgers," Mr. and Mrs. O'Brien had laughed for a very long time. Dylan's wink after they had settled down let me know that they, at the very least, liked me.

Now it was nearing eight o'clock in the evening and though I had certainly enjoyed the last few hours with all of the O'Briens, I was itching to be alone with Dylan again. Not so that we could fool around or anything--although, I wouldn't exactly be opposed to that--but just because I missed the comfort of his closeness. We sat across from each other all night, occasionally smirking as we met the other's gaze, but other than a few jibes in the other's direction, we had barely even spoken.

I hated it. I hated that I missed him when he was only just a few metres away. I hated that I desperately wanted to be near him, and every time we were separated, I felt like I didn't know what to do with myself. I hated myself for letting myself hate being away from him.

"Oh!" Mrs. O'Brien suddenly gasped, breaking me from my thoughts. "I forgot to run to the store!"

I watched Dylan's brow crease in confusion. "So?"

"Our family party is tomorrow, Dylan!" she suddenly seemed frantic, scrambling to her feet. We all watched in slight amusement as she maneuvered her way around, narrowly avoiding crashing into anything.

Dylan looked over at his dad. "We're having a party tomorrow?"

Mrs. O'Brien, despite not even being in the room, answered for her husband. "I've been talking about it for weeks, Dylan! For the meteor shower--"

"Woah, a meteor shower? Cool!" Julia interrupted from her seat next to me. I fought a smile as Mrs. O'Brien shot her children a heated stare.

"Do either of you listen to me when I speak?" she asked, annoyed.

"No," they replied in unison.

Shaking her head, she continued on her rampage throughout the house. Muttering curses, she listed off all of the things she had to do still before tomorrow. Finally, after we all quietly watched her for a few moments, I cleared my throat.

"Mrs. O'Brien?" I asked, gaining her attention. "Why don't Dylan and I go to the store for you? You can give us a list so that you can stay behind and do whatever it is that needs to be done here?"

Mrs. O'Brien paused. She glanced to Dylan for confirmation, and I was relieved to see he shrugged too, as if giving his approval. Immediately her face cleared, almost like we had just lifted a great burden from her shoulders.

"That'd be wonderful, boys," she sighed, relieved. I nodded, getting to my feet.

She quickly scribbled out a long list of items for us to get, telling us to hurry before the store closed. Dylan smiled, kissed her cheek, then turned to me.

We stared at each other for a second, just a brief pause in our movements. It was hardly even anything at all, but for some reason my breath caught and my stomach stirred. I gulped. I wasn't an idiot; I knew why my hands were suddenly clammy and why I was fighting a blush and why my heart was abruptly racing. I knew what all of it meant, but still I refused to admit it. I couldn't admit it.

I couldn't admit it, not because of the stupid bet, if that's even believable. But because admitting that I liked Dylan would be admitting weakness. I was supposed to be strong, to have no fears, to be the guy in Hollywood who played with everyone's heart but his own. Dylan was my weakness, and I was not allowed to be weak.

Dylan suddenly slapped a hand to my chest, his face breaking out into a contagious grin. He bolted from the room, laughing as he shouted, "Race you to the car!"And even though I knew it was wrong, I let my heart swell when I heard the full happiness in his voice.

Then I ran like hell.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"You're kidding."

"I'm 100% dead serious."

"Cow tongue?"

"My uncle really likes it!"

I stared at Dylan in horror, than glanced back at the slab of meat again. Gagging, I reached out and grabbed hold of the actual, real tongue. It was about six inches long and was extremely squishy in my palm.

If we weren't standing in the middle of the supermarket, I probably would have screamed.

"Aw, does baby Thomas not like the feeling of a wittle cow tongue?" Dylan cooed in an obnoxious baby voice. I glared at him, tossing the tongue into the cart with the rest of our items.

"I'd hardly call it little, you dick," I said, moving to begin pushing the cart again.

"You're right. It was probably the first time you've held a piece of meat that big before," Dylan smirked. I rolled my eyes. Everything was sexual with him, wasn't it?

"You're an ass," I laughed in lieu of reply. I shoved him slightly, and he grinned.

"You're a...monkey whore."

I glanced over, but continued walking. "Okay, Cunt Dracula."

"Shut it, spongeboob."

"Greasy cumslut."

"Pussy potato."

I stopped walking, and Dylan stopped too. "Pussy potato?"

Dylan nodded, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. We turned to face each other, both staring blankly at the other. Then, unintentionally, my mouth twitched. Like an abrupt crack of a whip, we both suddenly burst into laughter.

The store was pretty much empty so I didn't really worry about bothering anyone as tears sprang in my eyes. Dylan fell against my chest, clinging to my waist as we both howled, oblivious to anything around us. It was just me and him, wrapped in the melody of our laughter.

Eventually our laughter seized to just chuckles, and then to gasps for air. We continued walking, still laughing, as we searched for the few remaining items we had yet to find.

"Um, problem," Dylan said after another few moments. I looked over at him, watching as he leaned closer to the note his mother had written us. With a huff, he handed me the piece of paper and asked, "Does that say chicken fingers or chicken liver?"

I pulled the cart to a stop, focusing intently on Mrs. O'Brien's messy scrawl. It was clear she had been rushing to write. Each letter morphed into the next, making it all nearly impossible to decipher.

"Um, I'm pretty sure it actually says, 'chocolate slivers'," I said, returning the note.

Dylan scrunched up his nose. "No, this definitely says chicken liver."

"Why the bloody hell would she want chicken liver?" I wondered in disgust.

Dylan looked over at me, his brown eyes warm but his expression bland. "Did you miss the part where she also told us to buy a cow tongue?"

I shook my head, forcing my eyes away from him. It was hard not to focus on how beautiful he was when he wasn't just beautiful externally, but internally as well. "Americans are weird."

"Look who's talking," Dylan said. I stuck my tongue out at him, but didn't bother with a further reply.

I followed him to the chicken department, still shaking my head at the idea of chicken liver. It was really just a way of distracting myself from Dylan though, who walked in front of me. I couldn't help it! The swell of his ass was just too goddamn appetizing in those jeans.

Dylan was just beginning a debate between two chicken livers when his name was unexpectedly called from behind us. He jumped (adorably, might I add) and spun around towards the voice. I straightened up from where I leaned against our cart, facing a guy approximately our age walking closer.

He was average looking. I'm not even going to lie. He had plain features and similarly boring hair. He was shorter than both Dylan and I, but he walked with the confidence of a sumo wrestler. However, as I studied him, I couldn't help but feel like he looked familiar. I made sure to keep my expression neutral as he approached, but I couldn't help stepping nearer to Dylan anyway.

"Caleb?" Dylan seemed to ask incredulously. The man, Caleb, smiled kindly. He pushed his strawberry blond hair away from his eyes and opened up his arms for a hug.

To my surprise, Dylan rushed forward and wrapped the smaller man up without hesitation. I awkwardly stood behind him, watching the exchange. Dylan eventually pulled away, still grinning, I noted with disdain. Who the fuck was this guy?

Dylan seemed ready to answer my question, holding an arm out to me as a way of introduction.

"Uh, Thomas, this is Caleb. Caleb, this is Thomas."

I fought a glare when Dylan didn't introduce me as his boyfriend. Just as plain, old, boring Thomas. We'd have to talk about that later. Feeling predatorial, I extended a hand to Caleb who shook it curtly.

"Thomas Brodie-Sangster?" he asked, obviously impressed. "I like your movies."

I nodded stiffly, but remained nice for Dylan's sake. "Thank you."

"It's been awhile, huh Dyl?" Caleb said, turning back to Dylan. My blood boiled when he used my nickname for my boyfriend.

"Yeah," Dylan laughed. "Two years, right? Insane how fast the time went without you."

I blinked. Dylan's words weren't exactly rude, but they certainly held an undercurrent of aggression. Perhaps I had imagined it though, as Dylan, as far as I knew, had always been extremely nice and gentle to everyone. I was the one exception.

Caleb was either blind or stupid, because he completely missed the slight animosity of Dylan's statement. "I know. You look fantastic, though," he replied.

Dylan grinned, but I noticed that he didn't even bother showing his teeth. "Thanks."

I snorted when he left it at that without returning the compliment. Though I quickly tried to cover it up with a cough, I was clearly unsuccessful when Caleb slightly glared at me.

"So rumor has it that you're a big movie star now, huh?" Caleb continued as if there wasn't tension building. This guy really was stupid, huh?

"I wouldn't say 'big' but yeah, I recently filmed a movie," Dylan chatted easily, ever the friendly guy. "That's how Thomas and I met, actually."

Caleb smiled, but there was a glint in his eye when Dylan dragged me back into the conversation. "Ah, yeah, I guess filming together would make you pretty good friends."

"Boyfriends," I interjected, not even caring what his reaction would be. For some reason, this guy was really rubbing me the wrong way.

"Oh," Caleb said, his smile fading. "My apologies."

I swear I tried to stop myself from glaring at him. I really, really tried. But god, was he homophobic or something? He had to be with the way he was treating me, almost as if he hated my very existence.

I used my best acting skills, however, to put on a tight-lipped smile and reply, "It was an honest mistake."

And that's when the awkwardness finally decided to make itself known. Caleb and I stood there, our eyes hard and unwavering, as Dylan hovered close to my side. None of us said anything for a moment, then two, then three, until finally, Dylan cleared his throat.

"Right," he said, scratching at the back of his neck. "Well, it was nice seeing you, Caleb, but we're actually kind of in a rush. I'll see you around, yeah?"

Without even waiting for a reply, Dylan tossed one of the chicken livers into the cart and placed the other back on the shelf. Then he grabbed the cart and began trudging away with a small wave goodbye to Caleb.

I followed dutifully behind him, scrambling to keep up with his hastened pace. He didn't seem tense or uncomfortable or anything besides relaxed. He actually seemed completely unfazed by our recent interaction. I, on the other hand, was completely thrown off. My mind was spinning with questions, zooming around like bees inside my brain.

"Dylan?" I finally asked when I felt we were a safe distance from Caleb. "Who was that?"

"He's my ex," Dylan said carelessly from in front of me.

My neck snapped in his direction with wide eyes adorning my face. So he's not homophobic. I carefully studied him, though I found nothing. I wasn't quite sure what I was looking for--pain? Hurt? Sadness? There was nothing though, and my brow crinkled in.

"Can...can I ask why you broke up?" I asked, my voice cautious. Dylan finally stuttered to a stop in front of the ketchup, glancing up at me before he knelt down.

"He cheated on me," he replied, his voice completely casual. I choked on air as I took in a deep gasp, never letting my gaze stray from him. Again, he hardly looked fazed, instead opting to focus his attention on the arrangement of sauces before him.

"He what?" I sputtered, not quite believing my ears. Who the fuck would cheat on Dylan O'Brien? "Are you okay?"

Dylan stood, looking at me in amusement. "I'm fine. It was a long time ago and I honestly couldn't care less about him. If he really still hurt me, I would have told you about him long before you met him."

I shook my head, my mind whirling. "I just...don't get it."

Dylan smiled and leaned in to place a kiss on my cheek. "I know you don't. I was devastated back then. I mean, he literally just woke up one day and decided to sleep with another guy. But I'm not hurt anymore. I don't feel betrayed or any of that shit. I pulled myself together, and I moved on."

I must have still looked flabbergasted, because Dylan lightly chuckled again. We ambled towards the checkout line in silence and I watched as Dylan stayed completely normal. I think I was more put off by seeing Caleb than he was.

But maybe it was because I just kept thinking who would even consider cheating on Dylan? I know I never would. I couldn't even imagine myself doing so. Caleb had betrayed Dylan in the deepest possible way you could betray your partner, and it hurt me to think of Dylan suffering through that. Suffering through the self-doubt and the questions. The pain and heartache.

Or maybe I couldn't shake the interaction with Caleb because a part of me knew that what Caleb had done and what I was doing wasn't really that different at all. I may not be cheating on Dylan, but damn, was I going to hurt him.

Dylan started scanning our items in the self-checkout line, but after noticing that I was still frozen behind him, he turned to me with a roll of his eyes.

"Tommy, it's okay," he breathed out in a laugh. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on my nose, continuing, "I have you now."

I couldn't help the small intake of air that slipped past my lips at his words. As he pulled away to continue scanning our items, a small smile slipped onto my face. He had me now. And I had him.

The words felt so right in my head, and my previously thoughts vanished completely. For the first time I felt the magnitude of everything that had happened. Everything that we had become. I felt every joke we had shared, laughing until our sides ached. I felt every sly grin and flirty wink that had passed between us. I felt the hatred that had somehow become adoration, so deep that I couldn't imagine a life anymore where I could possibly dislike Dylan.

I felt happy.

Dylan glanced back at me again, and I was certain that happy was the only way to describe how I felt. I should have probably been guilty, but I didn't even let my mind stray to the unwanted thoughts again, to the parallels between me and Caleb. I just let myself be happy for once, forgetting about the media and my past and the millions of people watching my every move. My time feeling like this could quite possibly be running out, but instead of even letting that faze me, I just smiled. Dylan made me happy, and I was done fighting it.

So when Dylan began reaching for his wallet, distracted by the machine in front of him, I reached a hand out and abruptly pulled him to my chest. He squeaked a bit in surprise, but welcomed my lips as I pulled him into a slow and passionate kiss.

I pulled back just slightly, our lips still brushing. Electricity seemed to surge through my brain every time his warm breath mingled with mine, and I tightened my grip around his waist instinctively as I finally replied, "And I'm thankful to have you."

And for once, I wasn't lying to him.

//

A/N

Special thanks to anyone still around after I have once again disappeared for a few months. The only explanation I can offer is that I never want writing to feel like a chore, or worse, like homework, and with the school year gettin to be crazy, I just couldn't find the motivation to write. I'm extremely sorry, and you should know that I'm still super super thankful for every read, vote, and comment this story gets. I may suck at replying to people, but I do read every single comment on every single chapter, and it truly means the world to me.

On a slightly related note, this book is about to hit 50k reads.....thats fucking insane. someone please pinch me and tell me this is not a fucking dream

knock knock

You: who's there?

Grandma

You: Grandma who?

Do you not know who your grandmother is??? Let me in it's cold!

Okay so that joke really doesn't work when I cant actually get a live reply but ya know what Ive been saying it to my friends all week and everytime I cant even get all the way through it because I just laugh so damn hard honestly its the little things people

happy birthday, happy easter, happy spring, happy Autumn, happy days. Hopefully I'll be back before another fucking month passes but honestly who even knows anymore because not me

until next time,

//sam\\

p.s. you're beautiful