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None of the Gladers wanted to be runners, not before Thomas. They were just boys, after all, and none of them wanted to volunteer for the job that could also be synonymous with suicide. Everyone knew what was out there: disgusting, terrifying creatures whose sole purpose of existence was to end yours. And when someone worked up enough courage to ask to become a runner, one of them came back stung or went missing.
But then Thomas came out of the box and asked and asked and asked. He wanted to know everything about everything. Newt answered most of his questions because there hadn't been anyone like him yet. When Thomas asked about the runner, Newt knew it wasn't the same curiosity. It was determination.
While Newt appreciated the Greenie, a majority of the others did not. He threw the balance and broke the rules, effectively turning their already fragile lives upside down. Minho liked him because he had enthusiasm untouched by the bleakness of their situation. He'd never admit it out loud, but Thomas's determination to be a runner rekindled Minho's desire to find a way out, no matter how impossible. Thomas didn't know the horrors of the Maze, not yet, and he didn't know the depression of being stuck here for years. Minho found himself inspired.
Newt wasn't excited about Thomas becoming a runner. He had become attached to him quicker than he would've liked, and once you went out into the Maze there was no promise of coming back. Thomas was excited, though, and Newt tried not to let his apprehension rub off on him. Maybe Thomas would have a better chance than the rest of them because of his drive to get out there. Newt could only hope.
He was asleep in the room he shared with Alby when the doors opened on Thomas's first morning. Newt scrambled to get up and down the stairs in time to see Minho and the Greenie off, but by the time he made it downstairs all he could see was their backs running down the corridor. Sitting down on the grass outside, he sighed and tried to sort through whatever this thing was that he was feeling.
There was a bonfire that night. Newt sat next to Thomas. "How was the run?" he asked, hoping he sounded casual. Thomas didn't need to know he worried.
"Exhausting," Thomas replied with a sort of chuckle. "But I'm ready to go back out tomorrow." Newt watched the fire for a moment.
"Just be careful," he said, not looking at the boy next to him.
"I will," Thomas promised, and it sounded like he understood. Newt turned to face him, and there was understanding written across Thomas's features. "I will," he repeated, softer this time and with more meaning. Newt crumbled into him, head falling onto to Thomas's chest as he left himself be weak. Thomas's arms came up around him and held him. "I'll come back," Thomas whispered, pressing a kiss into his hairline.
"You better," Newt told him, voice shaky. They didn't speak after that, just sat together in silence before the crackling fire. Newt fell asleep at some point, and Thomas pulled him closer, kissing his temple before Thomas's eyes slipped closed as well.
The sun had yet to appear in the sky when Minho shook him awake. Thomas woke up slowly, aware of a weight on his chest and a hardness against his back. He blinked, focusing in on his surroundings: he was outside, leaning against a felled tree, and Newt was still asleep on top of him. Minho quirked an eyebrow at him but didn't say anything. Together they shifted Newt with as little jostling as possible. Thomas stood and took the pack Minho handed him.
"Ready to go?" he asked. Thomas looked towards the doors that were still closed.
“Let’s go," he nodded.
Shuffling on the ground turned their attention downward. Newt blinked and looked around, lost for a moment, before he remembered. He jumped up too quickly, swaying on his feet as dots swam on the edges of his vision. Thomas righted him, hand staying on his arm.
“Headed out already?” Newt asked, still blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Minho nodded.
"We found a couple things yesterday and we want enough time to check 'em out," he explained.
The trio began the walk to the doors, Thomas's hand slipping from Newt's arm to grasp his hand. They arrived at the doors before they opened, but Newt expected the great grinding noise to start any minute now. Minho stood a few paces ahead of the other two, rummaging through his pack and making sure he had everything. Newt saw the opportunity for what it was and turned to Thomas. He took him by surprise when he grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss.
"Be careful, okay?" Newt whispered. Thomas looked at him in shock, and it took a moment for the words to register.
"I know what I'm doing," he replied with a smirk. Newt smacked him lightly.
"No you don't, you idiot. You've only been a runner for one day," Newt reminded him with something that sounded not quite like a laugh. Thomas's arms came up around Newt and pulled him into a hug. Newt pressed his face into Thomas's neck, not ready to let him leave.
"I'll be safe," Thomas promised, kissing the side of his face as the doors slid open. Newt kissed him once more, and Minho whistled from somewhere by the doors. Newt looked at him, a bright blush making its way up his neck and onto his cheeks. Thomas laughed. It was light and so blatantly happy that Newt wanted to curl up in it and never let go.
"Gotta run," Thomas said when he stopped laughing, a smirk still on his lips. He stepped away and swung on his pack, disappearing into the Maze hot on Minho's heels, Newt's gaze on him until he vanished.