Chapter Text
The fire crackled loudly and boys of all ages cheered while chugging their drinks. Away from the commotion, Thomas and Newt sat in a comfortable silence. Thomas had been begging Newt about information on the maze and Newt had relented, explaining its functions and the grievers. Newt had noticed that Thomas’s eagerness to be a runner had faltered slightly but he was a persistent idiot who Newt knew he had to keep an eye on. “Calm it and have another drink.” Newt smiled and offered his beverage to Thomas who quickly declined.
“No thanks, that stuff is rank.”
“Suit yourself.” Newt looked away and took a large sip.
He felt Thomas’s eyes on him and a strange sensation filled his chest. A sudden sense of nervousness, butterflies. He shoved it down and turned his gaze back to Thomas. “Now c’mon, you’re supposed to be the guest of honour!” He stood up and urged Thomas to join him.
“No, no I’m oka-“
“Nope, move your arse.” Newt pulled Thomas up playfully and slunk his arm over his shoulders, alcohol boosting his confidence slightly. “Let’s go get you a bite to eat.”
They walked around the blazing bonfire as Newt pointed out certain Gladers and talked about their professions. He felt himself go on and on but he couldn’t help himself.
He wanted to try and change Thomas’s mindset because the boy was so adamant on becoming a runner and to tell the truth, Newt was worried about him. The guy was the new Greenie and already had a death wish! But Newt felt protective of him and he didn’t know why. As they walked, Thomas seemed tense and wouldn’t hold eye contact so Newt offered him another drink. Thomas was hesitant but Frypan clapped him on the back and called him a scaredy shank.
Thomas immediately frowned and grabbed the cup, drinking the whole thing in one go. Newt laughed and handed Thomas another, then another.
By the time the main celebrations had begun, the pair were both tipsy.
They sat in the cover of the trees in the forest whilst boys shouted and jeered at one another out of sight. “I feel like crap..” Thomas murmured. Newt raised an eyebrow.
“You mean klunk?”
“You look like ‘klunk’.”
“Oh do I now?”
Newt cocked his head and smiled, amused by Thomas’s comment. Thomas paused as he met Newt’s eyes. “No.” He said breathlessly. Newt’s grin subtly widened and a smile tugged at Thomas’s lips. “So?”
“Huh? So what?”
Newt’s hand sat on the ground in between the boys and Thomas absentmindedly brushed his fingertips over Newt’s knuckles.
“How about me?”
Newt felt his heart rate increase but he played it cool. “You’re alright I guess. Nice eyes.”
“You think my eyes are nice?” Thomas batted his lashed jokingly and Newt quickly turned his face away, he hadn’t meant to add that last bit. “Uhh… yeah?”
Thomas smiled to himself and looked at the floor. “No one’s…” his voice trailed off slightly, “..well I can’t remember but I don’t think anyones ever said that to me before.”
“Oh no, someone surely has.” Newt smirked and the boys laughed.
Thomas yawned and stretched his arms out sleepily.
“Someone’s tired. Past your bedtime?” Newt mocked. Thomas just nodded and grinned groggily.
“Too bad I don’t have a bed.”
Newt snorted, “Don’t be a bloody weakling, tough it out. We all do.”
“I’m not a weakling!” Thomas felt his ego building up as the alcohol circled in his system. Newt shoved his shoulder jokingly, encouraging Thomas’s confidence. “Yeah I think you’re pretty weak. You couldn’t take me.”
“In a fight… right?”
Newt chuckled, “What, something else on your mind?”
Thomas turned red and frowned, “..no…”
Newt shrugged, “Okay then, how ‘bout it?”
Thomas turned back to Newt, “Huh?”
“Fight me, prove me wrong.”
“Oh Newt I couldn’t possibly-“ Newt jumped up and yanked Thomas to his feet, alcohol effecting his mood.
Thomas grumbled, “Fine.”
“Alrighty, you have to pin me down for five seconds.”
“This gonna be easy.” Thomas grinned and Newt clicked his fingers.
Thomas charged at him but he dodged out of the way. He weaved out of grasp from Thomas’s pounces repeatedly with little effort, tiring the new boy out.
“C’mon Tommy, try a little harder.” This continued until Thomas stood doubled over catching his breath.
“Harder than it looks?” Newt bent to Thomas’s eye level but their gaze met and Thomas smirked.
“I’m just getting started.”
In a flash, he shot forwards and grabbed Newt by the waist, shoving them both to the ground before Newt could react. He tried to squirm away but Thomas held his hands down firmly, straddling him in the process.
“…three, four, five!” Thomas let go of Newt triumphantly and smiled down at him. Newt shook off his grimace and chuckled, rubbing his arms.
“Beat me fair and square Greenie. Good that.”
He pulled himself into a sitting position against a nearby tree and Thomas watched him.
“You’ve got weak wrists.”
“Uh thanks?” They sat in silence for a few moments as their drunken states simmered. Thomas, who was still straddling Newt, looked away sheepishly. “Sorry, got carried away.”
“I initiated it.” Newt crossed his arms and shrugged, still smirking.
“True.” Thomas yawned again as sleep took over his mind. He fell forwards and laid his head on Newt’s chest.
“Tommy?” Newt froze and unfolded his arms as the younger boy used his body as a pillow.
“My reward for beating you…” Thomas mumbled into Newt’s chest, making the older boy blush profusely.
“Ah.” Newt dropped his arms to his sides and stared down at the head of the sleeping boy. He wondered deep down if what was happening meant something to Thomas but he told himself that it was just the alcohol acting. He felt Thomas’s chest rising and falling rhythmically against his own and suddenly felt warm inside. He stared into space for a while and without realising, he lifted his arms up and ran his hands through Thomas’s hair, curling it around his fingers. He only noticed what he was doing when Thomas woke slightly and pulled his body up, resting his face in the crook of Newt’s neck.
Newt pulled his hands away slowly and mentally slapped himself. If Thomas woke up, he would surely think Newt was a creep-
“Why did you stop?” Thomas was staring up at Newt, half-asleep and pouting. Newt couldn’t form words. Thomas was breathing down his neck and his chin was resting on Newt’s collarbone. “Uhm…mornin’.” Newt smiled and poked Thomas on the forehead. “Remind me to not let you near drinks in the future, you’re a proper drunk wet wipe.”
Thomas grumbled and nestled his head back, his temple tilted onto Newt’s shoulder. Slowly, Newt returned his hands back to Thomas’s head and the boy hummed contentedly into Newt’s bare neck.
In that moment, Newt knew he was totally screwed. His mind was racing as he felt Thomas’s body pressed against his own. The boy was laid face down on him and his legs were still half-straddling him. Eventually, the sounds from the bonfire died down and all light faded.
“Tommy?” Newt murmured into Thomas’s ear. He didn’t stir so Newt pressed his forehead against Thomas’s and sighed. Gently, he turned his body so Thomas melted off of him and he pulled himself off of the ground. The cold of the night instantly attacked his skin and he found himself craving Thomas’s warmth.
It was a struggle for Newt to walk away as his mind wrestled with him.
“A coward, that’s what you are Newt. A coward.” He grimaced and pushed the thoughts away. As he neared the edge of the forest, he looked back and glanced at Thomas’s sleeping body. He looked so fragile in the dim moonlight and Newt found himself running to grab a blanket and returning to the boy’s side. He dropped the cover over Thomas and rubbed his shoulder. “Night Tommy.” As quietly as possible, he crept away and walked to his bed. A tranquil quiet had settled over the Glade and Newt studied his surroundings, trying to not get seen creeping around.
A few of the builders had fallen asleep beside the ashes of the bonfire but the rest of the Gladers had returned to their respected sleeping areas. Newt had almost made it to his bed when a voice called out to him.
“Newt! Where’ve you been ya shank?” Newt froze in horror as Minho’s voice rose behind him. He turned slowly and saw Minho leant against the side of a hut with his arms crossed and a big smirk. “I was at the bonfire and fell asleep-“
“Oh don’t give me that klunk.” Minho interrupted and bounded over to Newt, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.
“What do you want Minho?”
“The truth. Spill. It’s to do with that greenie isn’t it?”
“No!” Newt put his hands over his face and tried to pull away from Minho but his grip was too strong.
“Being a sissy?”
“Go away.”
“Nuh uh.” Minho led Newt to the homestead and sat him down inside.
“Talk.”
“No.”
“Talk or I tell Gally about you and Thomas.”
“There is no me and Thomas!”
“Okay then talk.”
“You’re insufferable.” Newt groaned but he knew he had no choice. Minho was a stubborn little shit.
“So… ugh I don’t know. Me and Thomas got drunk I guess. We went to the forest for some peace and quiet then the bloody shank says he can beat me in a fight so we had a fight… he was right… then he fell asleep.”
Minho raised an eyebrow, “I feel like you’re missing some key information.”
Newt sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, blush creeping onto his face, “Thomas fell asleep on my chest.”
“Shuck it, I was wrong. I guess Fry doesn’t owe me that sandwich.”
“Bloody hell- you placed bets on us? What about?”
Minho shrugged, “I mean, we watched the way you guys were acting and I bet that you two were gonna… y’know, ‘get it on’?” Newt was taken aback and he wrinkled his nose.
“I’m not a bloody slut Minho.”
“Oh but you may as well of been, the way you look at him is enough to make anyone undress.”
Newt scoffed, “So if I looked at you long enough you’d start taking your clothes off?”
“Perhaps.” Minho said in a sarcastic tone and winked. Newt stood up and walked away.
“Night Minho.”
“Pfft, angry or something? Nah, night Newtie.”
Newt glared at Minho but laughed quietly and took himself to bed.