Chapter Text
As Gally steps out of the cell after a restless night, his mind is already clouded with a sense of unease that only intensifies as the day unfolds. With each passing moment, his gaze keeps drifting back to Thomas, a presence that seems to loom larger than life in the confined space of the Glade.
The sight of Thomas offering a tentative "good morning" and a small smile sends a jolt of electricity coursing through Gally's veins, igniting a spark of hope within him. But that hope is quickly extinguished as he watches Thomas interact with Newt.
The easy laughter and shared smiles between Thomas and Newt leave Gally feeling like an outsider, a silent observer of a bond that excludes him. He can't help but feel a pang of jealousy gnawing at him, a bitter reminder of the distance that separates him from Thomas.
Throughout the day, Gally finds himself unable to tear his gaze away from Thomas and Newt, their closeness grating on his nerves more with each passing moment. It's as if they have some secret language, some unspoken connection that eludes Gally's grasp, and the realization fills him with a sense of frustration and longing.
As he goes about his tasks, Gally's focus wavers, his thoughts consumed by the sight of Thomas and Newt together. He can feel the jealousy simmering beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment.
And when he nearly cuts his finger while helping Frypan with vegetable prep, the sharp sting of pain serves as a harsh reminder of the turmoil raging within him. Watching Thomas and Newt's closeness throughout the day only serves to deepen Gally's sense of unease and frustration.
When did they become so close, and why did it bother him so much? The answers elude him, buried beneath layers of confusion and desire. But one thing is clear: the sight of Thomas's smile, reserved for Newt, leaves Gally feeling more alone and jealous than ever.
—
As evening descends upon the Glade, the atmosphere shifts, casting long shadows across the camp as the flickering bonfire becomes the focal point of the night. Gally, Minho, and a few other Gladers gather around the fire, their faces illuminated by its warm glow.
Newt gestures for Gally and Minho to join him and Thomas, a welcoming smile on his face as he pats the empty spaces next to them. "Come on, lads, plenty of room over here," Newt says cheerfully, his tone light-hearted as always.
Gally hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering between Newt and Thomas, before reluctantly taking a seat beside them. Thomas greets him with a bright smile, his eyes shining with genuine warmth. "Hey, Gally, good to see you," he says warmly.
Gally manages a small nod in response, his heart sinking as he watches Thomas and Newt's easy rapport. Newt launches into a story about a prank involving a fake snake and Minho, his laughter infectious as he regales them with exaggerated gestures and dramatic flourishes.
Thomas laughs along with Newt, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he hangs on every word. Gally can't help but feel a pang of jealousy gnawing at him, a bitter reminder of the distance that separates him from Thomas.
Normally, Gally would have something to say, some witty remark or clever comeback to interject into their conversation. But tonight, he's strangely silent, his usual sharp wit dulled by the weight of his jealousy and longing.
The people around him notice Gally's uncharacteristic silence, exchanging concerned glances as they wonder what's gotten into him. Even Thomas can't help but notice, his gaze flickering towards Gally with a hint of confusion.
It's a stark contrast to the night before, when they had seemed to be on better terms. Thomas finds himself missing their banter, the easy back-and-forth that had begun to form between them.
As the fire begins to dwindle and the camp gradually quiets down, a few stragglers linger around, unwilling to let the night slip away just yet. Gally, however, decides to call it a night on the impromptu game that had sprung up. Grabbing a bottle of their homemade beer, he slips away to a quieter part of the forest, seeking solace in the darkness.
Settling against a tree, Gally takes a swig of the rough brew, the bitter taste doing little to dampen his spirits. For a moment, he feels almost at peace, the alcohol warming his insides and numbing the edges of his mind. But just as he begins to drift into a hazy sense of contentment, a familiar figure emerges from the shadows, shattering the illusion of solitude.
He turns to see Thomas approaching, a mixture of surprise and annoyance flickering across his features. "Hey, what are you doing here?" Thomas asks, his tone curious yet tinged with a hint of suspicion.
Gally scoffs, the slur in his voice betraying his inebriated state. "Nothing that's your business, Tommyyy," he replies, the nickname slipping off his tongue with a drunken ease.
Thomas's eyebrows shoot up in amusement, but there's something else in his gaze too, a glimmer of concern. "Oh, you're drunk," he observes, stating the obvious as he settles down beside Gally.
Gally laughs, the sound slightly slurred. "Yep, came up with it all by myself. You gotta make do with what you have," he explains, gesturing to the bottle in his hand.
"Smart," Thomas concedes, his eyes lingering on Gally for a moment longer than necessary. "But I think that's enough for you," he adds, reaching out to gently take the bottle from Gally's grasp.
Gally's initial protest dies on his lips as he watches Thomas tuck the bottle away, a surge of conflicting emotions swirling within him. Part of him wants to lash out, to push Thomas away and retreat into the safety of his own bitterness. But another part, a quieter part, recognizes the genuine concern in Thomas's actions and can't help but feel a twinge of gratitude.
"Thanks," Gally mumbles, his voice softer now, the tension between them palpable in the air.
Thomas nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Anytime," he says simply, before settling in beside Gally.
For a while, they sit in companionable silence, the crackle of the dying fire the only sound in the still night air. But eventually, Thomas breaks the silence, his voice soft and gentle.
"You seemed a bit out of it back there," he says, his gaze searching Gally's face for any sign of a response. "Is everything okay?"
“Yeah everything’s good, just feel a bit sick.” Gally lies, because even if Thomas might look very comfortable right now, he’s still not ready to show any vulnerability.
“Sick? Do you need to get checked?” Thomas asked with worry in his voice, he also made sure to touch Gally’s face to check if he was okay—a bit dramatic but it was nice seeing someone worry for him. He pushed Thomas’s hand out of his face and smiled a small smile.
“I’m good you shank, I’ll be fine”
“Okay good but I think you should stop drinking when you’re SICK!” Thomas took out the bottle of alcohol he had tucked away before and got ready to chuck it in the dark forest but before he could do that Gally jumped on Thomas to reach for the bottle.
“Are you crazy?! That beer took so long to make and there’s still so much in it” Gally half-yelled as he tried stealing the bottle back from Thomas’s hands. He hadn’t realised he was straddling Thomas in the process of getting his beer back.
As Gally tries to wrestle the bottle from Thomas's hands, their bodies inadvertently press together in the dim light of the forest. In the struggle, Gally manages to gain the upper hand, his strength surprising even himself as he pins Thomas down to the forest floor.
Thomas's breath catches in his throat at the sudden shift in power, his heart pounding erratically as Gally looms over him. There's a wild intensity in Gally's eyes, a raw energy that sends a shiver down Thomas's spine.
"Gally, what are you doing?" Thomas asks, his voice coming out a little breathless as he tries to wriggle free from Gally's grasp.
Gally's expression softens for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before he regains his resolve. "I'm getting my beer back," he replies, his voice surprisingly steady despite the closeness between them.
Their eyes lock in a silent standoff, the tension between them thickening with each passing moment. Thomas can feel the heat radiating from Gally's body, their proximity igniting a fire within him that he can't quite explain.
Gally pins both of Thomas’s arms above his head with one hand and with other reaches for the bottle, but as he inches closer to reach for it he ends up shifting above Thomas’s body causing the other to…whimper? What the hell.
“Gally get off.” Thomas almost begs, god this was so embarrassing.
Gally just smirks in reply as he rocks his body against Thomas again, acting all innocent.
Thomas now is glaring hard at Gally, or well trying to, without making an embarrassing sound again.
“Just want my bottle” Gally says abnormally cheerfully.
“ No” Thomas says before he gets some power to flip them around, now he was the one on top of Gally, take that. “You’re really stubborn, you know that?”
Gally starts laughing loudly, “me stubborn? Have you looked at yourself?” Gally says with a smirk, it’s so annoying that Thomas wants to kiss that smirk off of Gally’s face.
I want to kiss Gally?
“What’s up greenie, cat got your tongue?” Gally says as he reaches for Thomas’s face; caressing it gently. What was happening?
“I think I want to kiss you” Thomas blurts without thinking. Gally drops his hand from the other's face. Great, maybe I just ruined everything.
“You want to kiss me?” Gally says slowly.
Thomas stays silent, he actually doesn’t know what’s happening or what he wants— actually no, he really kind of wants to kiss Gally, those lips-
“Well?” Gally asks again.
Thomas nods in reply.
“Then kiss me?”
“You’re sick.” Thomas states.
Gally sighs, “I lied I’m not sick”
“You’re just saying that cause you want me to kiss you”
“No, shuckface, I was jealous…”
“What?” Thomas asks, confused, jealous of what?
“You and Newt….” Gally whispers, looking away from Thomas. Now it was Thomas’s turn to smirk at him.
“Newt’s my friend Gally”
“Yeah um, I see that now, I just felt really insecure and jealous and god I don’t know what I’m telling you all of this its so embarrassing”
“It’s okay Gally, tell me everything you feel so I can listen and help you” Thomas softly replies smiling at Gally. His eyes shining brightly underneath the moonlight. Gally’s features looked so soft when he wasn’t frowning or being mad at anyone or anything. Thomas softly chuckles at his train of thought.
“Hey why’d you laugh” Gally questions accusingly. Thomas starts caressing Gally’s face.
“I think you’re really pretty,” he replies.
“And I think you should really kiss me,” Gally smiles back.
Thomas's thumb traces a soothing path along Gally's cheekbone, his touch sending a shiver down Gally's spine.
Gally's breath catches in his throat as he feels Thomas's lips hovering just inches from his own. The air between them crackles with tension, their hearts racing in sync as they teeter on the brink of something new and unfamiliar.
And then, without another word, Thomas closes the distance between them, his lips meeting Gally's in a soft, hesitant kiss. It's tender and tentative, a silent promise of understanding and forgiveness.
For a moment, time seems to stand still as they lose themselves in the warmth of each other's embrace. And as they pull away, breathless and exhilarated, they share a knowing smile, the weight of their unspoken desires finally lifted from their shoulders.
In that moment, amidst the quiet of the forest and the flickering light of the dying fire, Gally and Thomas find solace in each other's arms, their hearts beating as one in the stillness of the night.