Fuck, he's cute.
Minho couldn't help but stare at the goods brought up by this month's elevator load, especially the new boy. His face was locked in a look of disorientation and his eyes squinted as they began to adjust to the bright sunlight. He looked frightened, but Minho couldn't blame him for that, they all had been. The others had already begun carrying supplies back to camp causing Minho to be much behind. To avoid this mishap from showing he walked up to Alby and the new boy to look as if that is what he planned to do all along.
"Ah, Minho-" Alby said to Minho catching him off guard, "Show this greenie around."
"Oh-me?" He hesitated slightly, "Yeah, I can do that."
"Have fun you two." He clapped Minho on the shoulder then turned away.
"So-uh-what's your name?" Minho asked as he started back towards camp with the new boy following behind slightly.
"I don't know." He was quiet, his voice more of a mumble than anything, "But they all call me greenie."
"I should've known. It's okay no one knows their name for the first few days."
They lapsed into an awkward silence.
Minho quickly changed the subject and they went on. The blond boy nodded his head along with whatever Minho told him about sleeping arrangements, food, work or whatever else. He did not ask many questions until the end when they stood alone in the sleeping quarters. He asked,
"Pardon me, Minho, is that right?" He worried he'd said his name wrong.
"That's right." Minho cracked a small-pursed smile at the sound of his name said shyly by the blond haired boy.
"Minho." He smiled brightly, "My question is: where do I sleep?"
"Well, in here." Minho glanced around the room until his eyes lay to rest on an empty hammock next to his. "Here exactly." He pat the hammock.
"This one is empty?" The boy glanced nervously at the hammock which had a jacket strewn on it and a pair of worn in boots lay beneath it.
"Recently empty."
"Who's is- was it?"
"A guy named Kevin. Died a couple days ago." He did not elaborate. "It's yours now."
That night the blond boy lay in the hammock that was now his but he couldn't sleep. He noticed Minho had no trouble falling into a deep sleep, even snoring slightly. He, on the other hand, could not bring himself to sleep. He couldn't help the thoughts that rushed through his mind every time he closed his eyes. He couldn't find a way to be comfortable in a dead boy's bed. Yet he squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to sleep. Maybe he was more tired than he thought, or maybe he had more will power than he remembered, because he eventually fell into a rough sleep.
He woke up half way through the night with a blazing headache, a sore throat and a throbbing elbow. Minho was leaning over him with a concerned look on his face as well as the other boys in the building peering off their bunks with varying looks of annoyance or fear. He felt the hard packed dirt beneath his back and looked up to see the underside of the hammock; he'd fallen out of it.
"What happened?" Minho's breaths exhaled hard, "You were screaming while rolling on the ground you shank!"
"My name is Newt!" He yelled as scrambled to sit up, suddenly knowing this was a sure fact, pushing Minho out of the way, "My name is Newt!"
"Oh good lord." Minho rolled onto his back, a sigh of relief leaving his lips.
That morning at breakfast Newt wouldn't stop beaming and as cute his smile was Minho was starting to get annoyed at him for constantly introducing himself. It was when he'd introduced himself to everyone when Minho jumped at him.
"My name is Newt?" He said almost to himself as if he could hardly believe it.
"Fuck! There are only 11 of us here we all know your god damn name is Newt! Shut up already!" Then he fell back into eating loudly leaving Newt's mouth open in a slight 'o' shape and his wide eyes rapidly blinking.
That day Alby took Newt under his wing and set him up as a gardener. Minho wasn't sure why Alby had taken a liking to the annoying skinny blond kid. Minho tried to stop thinking about him. He was off his back. He had no reason to think about him yet when he was finished running for the day his thoughts still dragged back to the greenie. He shook them off and continued on his next week not ignoring him, just trying not to see him…
Around a week and a half later Minho was greeted by Alby before he was set to run. Following behind him was Newt, still beaming that greenie smile of his, with a full pack on his back.
"Minho, Newt's going to be running with you." Alby told him.
"You're joking." Minho forced a laugh, "A greenie running with me. That's a good one Alby!"
"I'm not joking." He looked stern.
"Oh." Minho shut his mouth tightly.
"He's going to be running with you. Better get going."
"Follow me. Don't fall behind." Minho said to Newt with exasperation in his voice. Alby gave him a warning look but Newt just shrugged, still looking like an excited puppy. Minho bolted towards the open maze with Newt on his heels.
They did not talk much. They did not have time to. All that was heard was the patter of their feet and their ragged breathes. Then they returned back to the glade and Minho went to take a nap and Newt went to see Alby- all without saying a single word to each other. This carried on for nearly two weeks until one day when stopping for a quick drink of water Newt broke their usual silence.
"I don't get it." He started with a twinge of anger in his usually soft voice, "Why don't you like me?"
"I never said I didn't like you." Minho replied defensively.
"Then why won't you bloody talk to me?"
Minho couldn't help but roll his eyes, "Are you serious?"
"Alby said you were a good guy;" Newt scowled remembering the conversation with Alby the night before when Alby had told him: "Minho is a good guy, trust me on that much, he just hasn't been very good at making friends in these first few months. I'd really appreciate it if you'd, ya know, try to be his friend. He could use someone like you."
Newt continued to Minho, "He said that you would help me out, that I could rely on you. But you keep ignoring me. How the hell am I supposed to be your friend if you won't talk to me?"
"We're burning up time." Minho started off across the maze once more, "Just run, shank."
Once back in the glade Minho collapsed onto the ground. He lay on his back chest heaving. Newt lay down next to him placing his head next to Minho's.
"So what about friends?"
Minho groaned, "Not with your shucking stupid face."
"You're so bloody rude." He laughed. He fucking laughed. Minho couldn't believe it. Yet it was the sound of his laugh that made his stomach flip. He hated it. He'd felt fear and uncertainty before but not like this. This was almost a good feeling but he felt like just feeling this way in the pit of his stomach wasn't right.
The next day they ran again but not as far as usual due to the sweltering heat and unforgivingly cloudless sky. They stopped early and retuned to the glade where Newt ditched his pack for a jug of water, which he dumped on his head dousing his blond locks in water. Minho watched in fascination as the water wet the other boy's white t-shirt; he couldn't seem to pull his eyes away as a strange feeling grew in his stomach.
"Whatcha looking at?" Newt caught him looking.
"Nothing." Minho told him quickly.
"You look hot." He tossed him the jug, "Here."
Minho caught it easily, "Thanks."
Newt began to shake out his hair sending droplets of water soaring in a small radius around him. He smiled shyly at Minho who was still watching him as he pushed his hair back and out of his face. Minho could feel his stomach preforming gymnast worthy flips.
He hated it.
He hated Newt for making him feel like this.
He hated his stupid blond hair, his dumb accent, his annoying crooked smile, and his shucking eyes that are much too big all the damn time.
He didn't want to see Newt tomorrow.
Or the day after.
Or the day after that.
They did not run the next day. It was the day the elevator was due to come. Newt's position of "greenie" would be handed down to whoever showed up today; as well as a shipment of clothing, supplies, food and more ingredients for fire juice. The last item mentioned called for a rowdy night. This would mean no running tomorrow either. Which meant that Minho didn't have to see Newt for two whole days. Good.
That night was as rowdy as it was loud; and it was loud. This made it easy for Minho to slip away without anyone noticing. He hadn't been to greenie initiation since his own and he had no desire to go to any of them. Minho wasn't interested in meeting the new boy or getting buzzed. He sat just outside the glade with his back against the wall of the maze. Despite the volume of the other gladers the mechanical whirring of the grievers could be heard in the distance behind his back. He listened to their eerily close groans as his eyes shut. They couldn't touch him and he'd never seen one before but they still made his skin crawl.
Newt was buzzed early into the night. It wasn't like he couldn't walk or talk; no, he had full bodily control. What was different is that he wasn't a shy newbie anymore. Maybe it was a little bit due to the fact that he was no longer the greenie of the glade and a little bit more due to whatever Frypan had cooked up for tonight but Newt was no longer his composed self.
"The greenie is short." Newt chuckled to Alby. "Like really short."
"He's not much shorter than me." Alby replied with sarcasm leaking from his voice, "You're just tall."
"And you're short!"
"In comparison- tall is completely situational."
"Let me have this one!" Newt snatched the bottle and took a swig before continuing, "You've got damn good legs and Minho's got the biggest bloody arms I've ever seen. I get to be the tall one. That's it!"
"You got brains." Alby grinned.
"Brains, ah shit!" He punched him in the shoulder throwing himself off balance a little, "You're too sweet."
"Don't mention it." He rolled his eyes, "But know you're cut off." Alby grabbed the bottle from Newt's hand.
"C'mon!" He complained loudly, "I ain't got nothin' to do 'morrow and Frypan said I could have the whole bottle."
"Frypan thinks it's funny seeing the newbie's embarrass themselves-"
"Not a newbie!" Newt interjected.
"You've only got a month under your belt, don't get ahead of yourself." Alby chuckled to himself.
"Fine. Whatever man, I gotta take a leak anyway." Newt saluted him before trudging away from the rest of the group. Alby shook his head. They were all like this the first time. It was oddly amusing to him.
Newt had sauntered just outside the glade towards the maze. That's when he spotted Minho sitting against the maze wall.
"Hey you!" He kicked up dirt at him.
Minho's heart skipped a beat at the sound of Newt's voice, he hadn't heard it in a while, but he stayed still and did not even open his eyes, "Go away."
"Come on! Seriously, you won't even open your damn eyes to look at me when I'm speaking to you?"
He opened one eye, "What do you want, shank?"
"I don't know what your problem is with me-"
Minho got up to leave until he heard Newt start to tug on the wrong cords.
"Actually-" Newt continued, not aware that his sudden surge of confidence was due to Frypan's concoction, and not his own choice (He'd never say this as a Greenie), "This has nothing to do with me. This is all your fault!" Minho stopped and turned to face the other boy. Newt continued to talk and without realizing ended up face to face with Minho when he was finished saying, "And I know what's wrong with you. You don't like me because you're afraid of me. But let me tell you a thing or two: I don't want to make you look stupid or take your place. I just wanted to be your friend. But you're so bloody stupid that I don't care anymore. You're an immature fuck head. So you know what? You can take whatever problems you have with me and shove them up your nicely shaped arse!"
Minho's balled fist shot out and collided with Newt's jaw. With a yelp of pain Newt fell back onto the ground and grabbed at his face. Minho's chest heaved and his heart beat hard against his chest as he unraveled his throbbing fist while he looked upon the skinny blond boy on the ground in front of him clutching his face. He looked past him to see a small group of fellow gladers led by Alby charging towards them. He did not look happy.
"What the fuck, man?" Newt groaned through his hands as his eyebrows scrunched together as a clear sign of pain.
"What the fuck was that?" Alby crossed his arms over his chest as he shouted at the other two boys who stood in his hut. "What the fuck were you two thinking?" Neither of them responded. With a wince Newt opened and closed his mouth stretching his jaw, it wasn't broken, just bruised. Minho stared at the ground refusing to look at Alby or Newt. Alby calmed down and exhaled slowly, "What happened?" Minho's eyes flicked towards Newt but he said nothing. Alby repeated, "What happened?"
"I pissed him off." Newt mumbled through barely a barely opening mouth.
"What did you say?"
He paused and searched his mind but couldn't remember what he'd said. He could only remember the pain of being punched. "I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"I can't remember."
"The shucking fire juice." He ran a hand over his scalp, "Sit down." Newt obliged. He turned to Minho, "What did he say?"
"It isn't relevant." Minho grumbled.
"Fine. Don't tell me then. But it will not happen again. There will be repercussions." He turned to face Newt but the boy was already slumped against the wall sleeping. He sighed, "We'll deal with this tomorrow. Go to sleep."
"Wake up shit head."
Minho's eyes fluttered only to be splashed with cold water. He sat up, all his nerves on edge, and jumped out of his hammock. His heart stopped slamming in his chest when he say Alby standing in front of him with an empty pail of water.
"What the fucking he-" Minho started before being cut off.
"Shut your shuck mouth."
Minho did. Not because he was told to but because he was taken aback with shock. Alby had never gotten this angry with him before.
"You've get work to do." Alby continued.
"Right I'll be right on my way." He quickly grabbed the bag not wanted to anger him any more.
Alby reached out and grabbed his arm, "You're not going running."
"What?"
"Today you're a Slopper and I hear they've made quite a mess in the Bloodhouse today."
"No." Minho started, "Alby I'm a runner not a slopper, you can't do this-"
"I don't want to hear anything about it."
"Who's running then?" He protested.
"I already have two runners."
"Who?"
"Does it really matter, Minho?"
"Yes!" He was aware he was acting quite childish but as far as he was concerned Alby was being childish as well. "I'm not moving until you tell me."
With a sigh Alby stated, "Newt and Ben are running today."
"Newt and Ben?" Minho raised his voice. "You've got to be joking! Those shanks don't know the maze half as well as I do!"
Alby did not respond. Instead he threw the empty pail at his chest and Minho caught it with ease, "You have work to do."
Minho headed to the Bloodhouse with disgust on his face. He could not believe Alby. Why did Newt get special treatment? Him and Ben would not get anything done as runners. He was the best runner that there ever was and he deserved to out there not in the position as a useless shuck in the slop house. He was practically fuming when he got to the Bloodhouse and to make things worse he heard someone calling behind him:
"Hey! Hey you!"
He turned to see the Greenie that arrived yesterday running up behind him. His chubby body and curly mop of hair both bounced amiably a long.
"You're Minho right?" He asked when he caught up, "I'm Chuck!" He stuck out a hand, "It's real great to meet you." Minho did not shake it. He instead opened the door to the Bloodhouse and walked in.
The boy manning the Bloodhouse upon seeing him looked shocked but quickly wiped the expression away.
"Hey Minho?" He asked cautiously. "What're you doing here?"
"I'm working here." He grumbled in response.
"You grounded?" He joked but quickly stopped upon seeing the anger in Minho's eyes. "Anyway…" He quickly changed the subject, "Just dispose of the scraps and wipe the floors. I've got to go deliver tonight's dinner to Fry." He left Minho and Chuck alone. It was less than ten minutes of tossing discarded section of rotting meat and bones into pails before Chuck started talking. And he did not stop talking. He asked so many questions to which Minho only gave very degrees of grunts as answers. Yet this did not seem to bother the Greenie as the questions poured on and no until Minho lost it. He tossed one last set of ribs into his pail and exploded on the poor Greenie:
"Shut up! I am stuck being a Slopper for the day when I should be out running! I smell like the insides of a pig! I went from top to bottom! And now I have to listen to your shuck face all day! No. I can't do this. If you want to avoid being killed by me just shut up!"
Chuck was shocked and frankly a little frightened. He shut his mouth. They finished the rest in silence.
That night before dinner Minho caught a glimpse of Newt and Ben running back into the glade and he knew he could not take another day as a slopper. He wouldn't do it. He envied the sweat that dripped down their back from running unlike his, which was from the intense heat of Bloodhouse. He wanted to feel the air against his face again. He made his way to Alby. He had to get his position as runner back.
"Alby!" He burst into his hut, "I can't do this any longer!"
Alby stood there and watched him but did not say a word.
Minho continued, "I can't be a slopper! I'll go insane. Please Alby, please, I'm begging it of you. You have to let me be a runner again. I'll die if I have to spend another day like today!"
"You're being a little dramatic aren't you, Minho?" He smiled a little.
"Alby please. I'll do whatever it takes."
"I'll think about it." He paused, "Minho you do remember our rules right?"
"I do."
"Which one did you break?"
"Never hurt another Glader. We must trust each other." He looked down at his feet in shame.
"You can become runner again when you make up for what you did to you partner."
"He's not my partner!" Minho interjected, cheeks reddening.
Alby gave him a condescending look. "I told you what you have to do. It's your choice whether or not you do it. Either way I have an opening for you as a runner or a slopper."
That night after dinner Minho watched Newt and waited until he was relatively alone. Then he ran over to him: a little too quickly and forcefully maybe because Newt immediately put up his guard.
"Newt!" Minho shouted catching his breath slightly before lamely saying, "Hi."
"Hey what's up?" Newt smiled slightly through closed lips.
"I'm sorry." Minho whispered.
"What's that?"
"I'm sorry."
"Pardon I couldn't hear you."
"I'm sorry." He said a little louder.
Newt smirked as he said, "What was that? You need to speak up."
"I am sorry!" Minho raised his voice until he was almost shouting.
"It's okay." He beamed. Dimples formed at the edges of his mouth and his shoulder fell to a relaxed position.
"It's okay?" Minho was unsure, "I punched you in the face."
"Rule number two." He shrugged. "We must trust each other."
"So you're not mad?"
"No, not really. I probably deserved it."
They lulled into an awkward silence.
"Hey Minho," Newt asked, "Did punching me make you feel better?"
He thought about it for a little while and in a way he realized it did make him feel better. He was no longer mad at the boy for whatever reason he had been before. Maybe emptying his pent up anger was all he needed to do. He really did wish he didn't punch the poor guy though. He felt quite badly about it each time he glanced at his mouth and noticed the slight bruising and cut lip. This and other reasons made Minho try to steer his eyes away from the other boy's mouth as much as possible. "I guess so." Minho admitted, "Punching you was good. I'm not mad at you anymore at least."
"Being punched by you was good." He laughed a little under his breath. "I mean I don't think I was ever mad at you but I'm glad it fixed things. And guess what?"
It took Minho a full five seconds to realize that Newt actually expected him to guess, "What?"
"My face doesn't even hurt anymore!"
Minho found himself smiled a little. Newt caught this smile and he beamed.
"Hey Minho, does this mean we're friends now?"
"Yes. Friends."
The two of them turned to head back to the sleeping quarters.
"Do you think you'll ever tell me what I said?" Newt asked.
Minho didn't look at him, "Not a chance."
Newt laughed. That fucking laugh, it sent butterflies loose in Minho's stomach every damn time.
