Work Text:
Today was the day.
Thomas was groggy with sleep and trying to adjust to the light seeping through the Homestead's roof when the thought struck him.
Today he and the Gladers were heading into the maze.
Today they were going to escape.
Everything around the teen was relatively quiet, except for the rustling of leaves and soft snoring coming from the other boys in their hammocks. It was then that the brunet noticed no one was up yet—looking at the watch on his wrist indicated that he'd awoken even earlier than the Runners, which was honestly surprising since he considered himself a heavy sleeper.
It honestly made the situation around him feel that much more surreal.
To think that less than a day ago he'd managed to crack the code to their freedom with the help of Teresa, all when they were nothing short of hopeless mere hours before. Although if he was being honest with himself, Thomas wasn't even sure if this was the answer they were looking for.
Sure, it made the most sense out of everything they'd stumbled upon over the years the Gladers lived here, but there was that small voice in the back of his head that made him worry.
What if he was reading too much into something that wasn't there?
What if the instructions they'd uncovered were actually another trap set by the maze, leading them into more pain and suffering?
What if Thomas’ unknown past was unconsciously sending his friends to their demise?
The brunet let out a sigh as he shuffled into a more comfortable position. He couldn't think like this—not when they were already so deep in. No matter what the day ahead brought, he had to stay strong, if not for himself, for the people who put their faith in him.
Alby, Minho, Chuck, Teresa.
And of course…
“Hmm…”
The low grumble almost made the brunet jump out of his skin, until he felt familiar lean arms snaking around him from behind. After getting everything set up and talking nothing but strategies all night, Thomas had nearly forgotten that in the midst of their sleep deprived minds, he'd invited his best friend to lay down in his hammock to take a rest since his own was on the other side of the Homestead.
After slowly turning his body around, Thomas was met with the most peaceful sight he'd ever witnessed since arriving at the Glade.
Newt rested against his chest, a mere inch standing between them as the blond shifted under the brunet's scrutinizing gaze. The slow rise and fall of Newt's chest was more than enough to bring peace to Thomas’ mind—he was here. Alive and breathing and in his arms.
A force inside him caused the brunet to lean forward and place a soft kiss against Newt's forehead. It wasn't long before the oldest of the two began blinking the sleep away as he adjusted to the world around him.
“Morning.” Thomas spoke in a hushed tone, both for the sleeping Gladers around him as well as his partner beside him. He allowed himself to smile as the other scrunched his nose and shifted around to get into a more comfortable position.
“G'mornin’...” Newt mumbled the words while ruffling his hair, maybe trying to tame it only to make it worse but equally adorable in Thomas’ opinion. “What time is it?”
“Early. Runners aren't even up yet.” Thomas tried to give Newt some more room, but their limited hammock space made that task a little difficult, so he settled with placing one arm behind his head in hope of not having his limbs all over the blond's business.
“Bloody hell, someone's up early, then…” The amusement was evident in his voice as he showed off that damn crooked smile that gave Thomas butterflies for no logical reason whatsoever. “That eager to get today started, Tommy?”
He knew the comment was meant to be teasing in nature, but the younger boy couldn't help but have his thoughts drift back to the string of negativity from earlier. It must have been evident in his expression, because Newt dropped the smile and instead raised an eyebrow in slight concern. “You alright?”
Thomas contemplated how to answer for a minute, only to come up with nothing but the truth. It wasn't like he could lie to Newt, even if he tried. His best friend knew him too well—better than he knew himself, sometimes. With a small sigh, he gave him a sheepish grin. “Guess I'm nervous? Not sure what we're going to find out there.”
Newt observed him for a minute, then leaned his chin against an open palm, elbow resting against the rope-like texture of their shared sleeping quarters. “We're gonna find a way out. Doubt it'll be a big old door with the words ‘Exit!’ scrawled on top, but in this rubbish place, almost anything’s possible.”
At that, Thomas let out a soft chuckle. “You know what I mean.”
“So do you.” Newt's expression remained serious, but Thomas could see a hint of reassurance in his eyes, which was quickly backed up by the blond reaching for the brunet's hand with his own. “We're going to find an exit because that's what's out there. Our way to freedom.”
“What if it's not there? I mean, Teresa and I could've read it wrong. I could've read it wrong! Then I'd be leading all of you to danger for no reason and—”
“Tommy.”
With a single utterance of his nickname Thomas was silenced. He didn't even realize he started gripping the hammock until Newt's hand went to pull him away, interlocking their fingers instead. After staring at their joined hands for a moment, the blond brought them close to his lips and pressed them against the rough skin of Thomas’ knuckles.
A warmth spread across his cheeks before he could stop it, and Newt's giggle was more than enough proof to know that it was evident in his face. “For someone so smart, you doubt yourself a lot. It's cute, though. One of the many things I love about you.”
At that moment, time seemed to stop around him, and nothing else mattered. Nothing but the beautiful boy standing before him. He barely managed a whispered response. “Wait. You… love me?”
Newt's crooked smile returned, only this time laced with what Thomas could identify as fondness. “I always have.”
Before he could stop himself, Thomas instantly leaned forward and began peppering kisses all across Newt's face. His temples, nose, cheeks, neck—anything that was exposed to the air was up for the taking. The leaps and thumps in his chest were so loud he thought the other Gladers would certainly hear them, yet Thomas could care less.
Giggles erupted from the blond below him—Thomas didn't even realize when he'd caged him under his body—until he eventually started to pull him away, albeit rather reluctantly. “Alright, alright, that's enough! We're gonna wake—!”
“God, could you shanks get any louder?”
The voice instantly brought both boys to their senses, causing them to pull away from one another fast enough to fall from the hammock, landing on their bottoms with groans echoing from them both. Thomas could feel his face heating from embarrassment, and Newt's was flush pink as well.
He made a mental note to call him cute for that one later.
On the other hand, Minho stood above them with arms crossed, eyebrows raised and a look of mock disgust gracing his features. He swung his pack over his shoulder and turned away from them and faced the West entrance instead. “When you two are done being so shucking mushy, I'll meet you by the entrance, Greenie. We need to go over the route again before the others wake up.”
Thomas could barely muster a weak nod. He was never living this down, he could already tell. “G-Good that…”
Minho left without another word, leaving the duo alone once more.
As they exchanged looks, a few minutes passed before they let out chuckles of embarrassment at the whole ordeal.
Newt was the first to stand up, and as he did, he offered a hand to Thomas with a smile. “Ready to face the unknown?”
Thomas remained still for a moment, until eventually a smile spread itself across his own face while accepting the blond's help.
It was true that he had no idea what they were truly up against out in the maze, let alone outside the walls of all they've ever known. But as long as they had each other, Thomas knew nothing would stand in their way.
Nothing they couldn't handle.
“Together.”