It was late afternoon, and the perfect time of day. The time when the sun creeps in little spots through fluffy clouds, making everything soft and warm, and the sky around was a clear blue, making everything feel lazy and relaxed. A breeze blew slowly through the nearby trees, there was no bird song, but the leaves rustled a friendly tune telling them that there was life all around.
The two gladers lay alone in a grassy enclosure between the tree grove and the maze wall in a secure little spot where no one bothered to come, in the open but hidden from view by the line of forest trees.
Minho's eyes were closed, it looked like he was sleeping, but he was awake, seeping up the warm air and listening to the earthly sounds of the Glade as they passed him by. Doing his best to find peacefulness in his busy head, it came so easy to Newt, less so to him.
Newt himself was lying with Minho. In fact Minho was lying on top of him; his head in Newt's middle, resting as the skinner boy breathed out even breaths. And the new runner's body trailed down over his best friend, his firm legs stretched out awkwardly beneath them, Newt's ankles were hitched up around his thighs, making Minho feel protected from everything else around them. If only his head would do the same.
Newt's eyes stayed open, focused on his hands, unknown to Minho they were busy at work. That is until the Asian felt the smooth touch of plants caress his brow.
The boy's eyes opened. He turned his head, leaning back on Newt's chest to see his face, straight above his line of vision he saw the fuzzy outline of deep green, mixed with spots of other colours. Above was Newt's face, upside down from his point of view and sporting the biggest grin in the Glade.
"What?" Minho asked sarcastically, keeping a straight face.
Newt started giggling. "You make a lovely fairy queen." He replied.
Minho frowned, confused. Then he reached up to his forehead, and felt the brush of leaves, grabbing on he pulled them of his head. A crown appeared in his hands, a crown made mostly of ivy branch, but other plants were entwisted between, small wild flowers popped out in uneven places. Minho recognised them, some grew on plants in the garden section of the Glade, others were from trees in the forest near them. Although rough the crown showed the work of extreme care and clumsy skill. Newt had obviously spent a long time working on it, though Minho did not understand its purpose.
He sat up slightly, turning around to look at Newt, who was clearly trying to suppress a smile.
"Why?" Minho asked, giving a little shrug. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate it, he just didn't see the point.
"Because you look beautiful." Newt replied, his cheeky smile starting to break back on his adorable face.
"You mean I don't look beautiful anyway?" Minho said, the sarcasm oozing through his voice.
But Newt's face suddenly changed, his smile dropped and his eyes turned big like he was a puppy Minho had just kicked in the face. Minho hated that, he hated the lost and broken expression on Newt's face, and he instantly hated himself for being the cause. He vowed in that moment to never let that expression appear on Newt's face ever again.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." The runner repeated sincerely, wincing as he did so. "I like it, I really do." It wasn't a lie, he didn't have use for a flower crown, but he certainly appreciated how Newt had taken the long time and effort to make it with him in mind.
And then it struck Minho, how could he make it up to Newt? How could he repair the damage of that lost look on the boy's face? He wasn't skilled at anything, unless it was something athletic, like running, and what use was that as a gift? He considered it for a moment, looking over Newt's face, drifting down from the top of the boy's curly blonde hair, to his big brown puppy eyes, then finally to his thin lips. And then he knew.
He leaned in. "I really do like it, baby." He whispered. "Just don't expect me to go making you one." And then he kissed him.
They'd kissed a few times before now, but never like this. At first they'd both been scared out of their skins with that thought that someone might see them, it wasn't wrong they told themselves, but the other boys in the Glade weren't like they were. Then they were shy, wanting to sneak kisses but both of them being too afraid to make the first move. Recently they'd grown relaxed with each other, they were affectionate and a little experimental, but still hesitant.
That all changed as they kissed now. Minho wanted to tell Newt how he felt, let him know how much he cared, but he couldn't express it in words. Newt started to get the message. Minho's lips were soft and warm, carrying the heat of the sun they basked in. Newt's lips were firm as always, every detail, every crack or dip in the pink of his rim, Minho could feel it as he traced his lips across the other boy's. Then slowly, very slowly he decided to try something new, he poked his tongue out, just an inch, over the rim of his mouth and onto Newt's bottom lip, then as quickly as he begun he pulled back like a lizard stealing food.
Newt didn't freeze, didn't retract, a moment later he opened his mouth just a tad to Minho. The Asian boy could feel Newt's husky breath on his lips, making him quiver. He didn't need to think, he opened his mouth again, nudging his tongue out, he glazed over Newt's bottom lip, he felt the skinny boy's body shudder as he did so, he liked that.
When he was done with his lips he went further, pushing his tongue inside the other boy's mouth, Newt didn't complain, didn't push him away, he welcomed it, spreading his mouth wider. But he forgot everything else when Minho's tongue touched his own, clashing, heat, and explosion inside him. He had to grip on to the other boy as he let the waves of feeling wash over him. A moan was let out from deep inside him but it was lost in Minho, he could feel the boy's heat, his sent, his taste inside his own mouth, and it was delicious.
Eventually, they had to break away. Neither of them wanted to, but it was live or die in a place like the Glade and they wouldn't die today, not from lack of breathing out of their own hunger for each other.
Newt gasped, swallowing big gulps of air. He still clung on to Minho, his head buried in the crest of his arm, feeling the boy's firm muscles. He panted in and out, trying to get in control again, listening to Minho's strong heartbeat; it was so loud it should be pounding out of his chest. He could hear the boy's heavy breathing above his ears.
He pulled back, collapsing down and trying to keep quiet, trying to listen out for the sounds of anyone nearby, this was the worst way to make their relationship public. Far off sounds of clanking food pots, the squeaks and snorts of the animals, the occasional call of one boy to another across the Glade, but near them there was only the usual and comforting sound of the rustling trees. By some miracle no one had heard them.
He turned his focus back to Minho. Both of the breathing had calmed down now, still jolty, but able to speak.
Newt let an embarrassed grin spread across his face, his cheeks rosy pink, he still couldn't believe they'd just shared that moment. "Thank you." He mumbled happily.
"Nah." Minho said, giving a tiny shrug, trying to come off cool and casual as always. It didn't work, not on Newt anyway. They hadn't know each other that long, and had shared this feeling between them even less, but already Newt knew Minho well enough.
The new runner realised this, he looked down at the ground awkwardly, then glanced back up at the skinnier boy, his deep, dark eyes staring into him. It made Newt want to smile even wider, but that wasn't physically possible.
"Thank you." Minho said sincerely. It was the first time Newt had heard him say anything sincerely and he knew he really meant it, he knew then what they shared was really important, to be cherished.
Newt flopped down on the ground, staring up at the blue sky with puffs of white drifting across; the ivy covered stone walls peeked out of his line of vision. He was expecting any moment now the exquisite view to be blocked by Minho's face, or at least for him to come lay down beside him. Nothing happened.
The British boy looked out of the corner of his eye. He saw Minho turned away from him, resting on his knees, his hands holding his thighs, staring at seemingly nothing.
Newt sat up and crawled over to the other boy. "What now?" He asked softly. Then he looked and realised although they were still hidden from the rest of the Glade the south door to the maze could now be seen jutting out at an angle.
"We should be out there." Minho replied in a whisper.
Newt wanted to groan, he couldn't be dealing with this again. He really liked Minho, but like everyone he had some bad traits, his stubbornness was a whole other matter.
"We can't." Newt started. "I mean we could be we shouldn't, it's not worth it."
Minho looked down; his face was doubtful, even angry.
Newt frowned from behind him and then edge closer, speaking almost in Minho's ear, his breath tickling the back of the boy's neck. "Look, we will get out of here, I promise you, one day, it's just not today. We lost to many already and it's not worth it again. It's best for now to just concentrate on keeping alive in here."
Minho turned around on him sharply. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Newt. And you know this ain't living."
The skinny boy looked upset, worried, and confused. "You don't really mean that." He said finally.
Minho turned his face away again, looking frustrated, then he turned back, his deep eyes fixed on Newt. "Maybe. But we still don't help anything just lazing around here."
This did make Newt let out a real groan, he put his hands over his face and then pushed them back through his curly hair. "We've already done enough today." He uttered exasperatedly. They'd spent the whole morning and a good part of the afternoon working in the gardens, after that work was done they were relived, there was little other work to be done in the Glade and by then there had already been more than enough boys at work at the tasks.
They didn't send people out into the maze, at first they did, curious, trying to figure everything out but it didn't take them too long to realise the dangers. At first they'd still kept sending people out, until the causalities started mounting up and up. More recently they'd agree to all put their heads down and focus on work in the Glade, building up a life for all of them. They all knew some day they'd have to face the maze they were trapped in, but it wasn't now. Minho was one of the few people who disagreed, who couldn't see reason.
"They're all out working in the Glade and we're here hiding."
"Honestly, we get a precious afternoon off and you want to spend your time complaining. I don't get you." Newt sighed. He slowly wrapped his arms around Minho feeling the clenched fabric of his shirt, and his muscles beneath. He was careful, staying aware of everything around him. They were nearer the edge of their hidden spot now and someone might see them if they were to stroll past.
"There's nothing left to do anyway." Newt continued, whispering close to Minho's ear, his lips against his face. "Unless you want to go kill some baby piggies with Winston." He said disgustedly.
He could feel Minho gulp. "I could do that." The Asian replied.
"You're lying." Newt said with a smile, he knew Minho well enough by now.
"So what?" Minho said, giving a shrug, though not one too big so as not to make Newt move away. "Why's he killing little pigs anyway, there's hardly any meat on them then?"
"I think it's a new tactic he's trying; kill 'em while they're young and string the meat up overnight to dry he said."
"Sounds delightful." Minho retorted.
"Yeah." Newt said with a sigh, rubbing his cheek and feeling bored. He had enough of Minho's sulking. Then his eyes lit up. "You know I owe you a kiss now." He whispered in Minho's ear, drawing closer to him.
Minho smiled, trying to look up at the boy so close to him without moving his face. "Well, it was in payment for the flower crown see."
"Huh, you more than payed back for that." Newt said. "I'm definitely in your debt now."
Suddenly the skinnier boy grabbed the other, pulling him back, further into their enclosure. Minho giggled, actually giggled, and went along with it, letting Newt wriggle and heave him backwards. The two boys collapsed onto the grassy ground together, bodies tangled, so close to each other.
Minho snorted with laughter, his face almost buried in the ground where he fell. He looked up at Newt's face above him, making breathy sounds of amusement. When the two boys locked eyes onto each other they both burst out laughing again. With Newt's help Minho pushed himself up of the ground, the British boy instantly wrapped his arms around the other, drawing them closer, until they leaned in, foreheads almost touching, and he cupped Minho's face with his hands. Bodies pressing against each other, they leaned in closer, closer until.
A bell rang out across the Glade. The dinner bell ringing from the kitchen, signalling that dinner was ready and if you wanted food you ought to get over there fast.
The two boys turned their heads sharply towards the sound, startled out of their happy dream world. Newt looked back into Minho's eyes and grimaced. He leaned in and pressed his lips to the other boy's check, giving him a peck, then nuzzled against his face for a split second before pulling away.
"Come on." He said causally, though he couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice, as they untangled their limbs from each other's bodies.
Minho had never been one to turn down food, but he could have murdered the cooks right then.
That evening Alby called a gathering. That meant that all the gladers held a meeting together in the Homestead. There were about twenty boys living there now.
Alby stood and ran through the usual things, the advancements they'd made to their little home ground since the last gathering, telling offs to all the gladers because just a few had got caught mucking around, congratulations to specific boys who done something particularly noteworthy towards their progress. At the end he made a new announcement.
"We're growing guys, getting better every day, and becoming more prepared for the next boy who's lucky enough to get to live with us. We building a good home, but with our growing numbers we have to make changes."
Their leader went on to explain that with the amount of boys now living in the Glade there wasn't enough good rooms to all of them. The gladers were informed they'd have to start doubling up in bedrooms, even the first boys who came here. Alby was slightly worried about this, if the boys kept coming up through the box it wouldn't be too long until some of them ended up sleeping outside.
"Me and Newt will share." Minho practically bellowed as soon as he heard the news.
Alby raised his eyebrows, he, unlike the other gladers, was a little more suspicious about the extent of Minho and Newt's relationship. "Newt?" He asked, turning to face his friend. Newt remained silent. "Newt?" Alby barked.
Newt suddenly realised he'd had all his concentration forced on not breaking into the widest grin possible because of Minho's comment, something like that could give the whole game away. "Yeah, that's fine, Alby." Newt said, trying to keep it causal.
Alby turned back to face the rest of the gladers, one brow still raised and part of his mind still wary about his two friends. "Alright the rest of you lot. It's not my place to force you into rooms with whoever, so you work it out almost yourselves, two boys to each room. But if there is any trouble come and tell me right away, cos you won't like me if I have to come and break up your cat fights."
A round of nods and agreements followed from the gladers, Alby was scary enough as it was, Alby being angry at you specifically was something no glader wanted to encounter.
Later Minho moved his bed into the room that had until down belonged solely to Newt, they had to shuffle around the few objects that were in the room and ended up with the two beds placed on either side of the door. The whole matters was taken out very statically, no messing about, although neither one would admit it to the other, they were both embarrassed, unsure, afraid and excited at the same time, all of this led to each feeling confused and speaking only when it was necessary.
Although Newt had never considered it before, somehow he'd always known that Minho must be a very noisy sleeper, the kind that moves around a lot when he's away, snores for the whole world when he's asleep, and when you wake in the morning you'll find him stuck in the most uncomfortable and unattractive position.
Newt on the other hand was a rather sketchy speaker. Some nights it might take him forever to fall asleep but once he did that was it and you wouldn't hear from him till morning. Other nights he would wake suddenly and repeat this several times during the course of his sleeping time.
Minho seemed to be settling down; or rather Newt was hoping that was the case. He must have turned over ten times already. Now he lay with his head stretched up on the pillow, bedsheet crumpled and tussled, his legs sticking out at odd angles from underneath it, one arm drooped lazily over the side of the bed into the center of the room.
Newt couldn't take his eyes of him. Dim light peeped through the window opposite the door and cast long shadows over them. Newt could make out the little details on Minho's golden skin, the lines on his neck and arm, bathed in blue light. He couldn't resist the urge to reach his hand out to Minho's outstretched arm and brush his fingers across.
Minho's eyes flickered open, spots of white with dark circles inside stared out at Newt. "You still owe me a kiss, you know." He said softly.
A smile flickered across Newt's face. He hastily climbed out of bed and scrambled in next to Minho. The runner held his breath as the British boy joined him, both trying desperately to keep quiet, though the bed squealed under the weight. They both stayed silent for a moment, uncomfortably cramped in the bed. They were stuck in a tiny box room with two boys sleeping on each side of them, Alby and Winston on the right, Zart and Clint on the left. Thankfully all in the Homestead remained quiet.
Newt wriggled around as cautiously as he could to get comfortable. Minho chuckled at his efforts, a noise that never failed to make sparks fly within Newt. He ended up with Minho's arm around his neck, the fingers trailing down onto his back. They were pressed body to body in the single bed and Newt could see glimmers of Minho's face illuminated by the window.
"All this hassle for a kiss, ay?" Minho sighed.
"I'll have my way with you one way or another." Newt smiled in the darkness.
"Do enlighten me." Minho replied, Newt could see his eyes widening through the gloom.
The skinny boy leaned in and finally closed the gap between them. They were more careful than last time, but still no less affectionate, sneaking one little kiss after another, taking gulps of air in between, their fingers stroking down over each other's bodies as they huddled together, Minho doing that thing; swiping his tongue over Newt's bottom lip, that drove Newt wild.
When they finished Newt felt dozy and very happy leaning in to Minho's frame, using the boy's thick arm as a pillow. He meant to move, to crawl back to his own bed, but he wanted to stay there just a little longer. Soon after Minho fell asleep and Newt didn't have the heart to pull himself away from Minho's arm lounging across his abdomen in case he woke the other boy up. With a contented sigh he let himself drift off to sleep, promising to awake early and move back the next morning.
It was a loud rapping noise on the bedroom door that woke Newt up as daylight broke.
"Newt?...Minho?" Came Alby's voice from the other side of the door.
Newt shot up in Minho's bed. "One moment." He called desperately, then flung himself to the other side of the room and drove under his bedsheet. "Come in." He called, as Minho let out a moan.
Alby opened the door and stood, already wide awake and dressed. He looked from one boy to another, both with messy bedhair and their blankets in a tangle. He put these things together with the thudding noise he'd heard just before, as if someone had been staggering around on the other side, and the way the two of them had been acting around each other recently, and he came to a decision about the friendship between Newt and Minho. Still it wasn't any of his business, it was their lives and they did what they wanted. But he raised an eyebrow at both of them, as if to tell them that he knew.
"You too shanks wanna get up." Alby told them. "We've got work to do before breakfast.
Newt let out a small sigh, no rest for the wicked, he thought.
"Shank?" Minho asked, staring. "What does that even mean?"
Alby shrugged at him and was gone.
Newt got up and shut the door. Then he turned to Minho, a grin spreading across his lips, Minho smiled back at him. Newt offered his hand, forcing Minho to get up and out of bed. It was then as they stood in the center of their room between the two beds that Newt noticed something he hadn't last night. The flower crown he'd made for Minho was hanging on the corner of the end of Minho's bed, this made Newt's grin widen even more.