This is the first time I post something this short, but I had this idea while taking a shower (aka where all ideas come to life) while listening to Wicked Games by The Weeknd and I had to write it.
I have to warn you first though, this is inspired by the life of Joker and Harley, but this is in no way the same thing, Thomas isn't abusive and would never lay a hand on Newt. (and of course I do not caution the Joker and Harley's relationship)
Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this story! I may continue it, add a prequel and all, but depends on if you guys want to read more or not?
The Gladers used to be a great gang, until their leader had to go and catch feelings.
Everything used to be great, they were respected in the whole city and no one tried to get in their way. And, well, they were still respected and no one tried to get in their way, but now, there was a nuisance in the gang, a burden that Gally would never be able to get rid of. The founder of the Gladers.
As Thomas, an annoying but brave greenie, slowly made his way to the top by protecting the gang and earning everyone's respect, including Gally's, his interest got caught by the founder of the Gladers. This one had disappeared around two years before, right after a massive attack on the gang which had led to numerous death. No one knew where he was, or what had happened to him, but after weeks of research, Thomas had found him, rescued him from a mental institution and had hopelessly fallen in love with him.
Since that day, Newt had been nothing but a burden. He was always occupying the leader's thoughts, always drawing his attention to him. When he wasn't sitting on his laps at their club where every single transaction they had were made, he was on the dance floor in the middle of the crowd, far from them, and yet, still the main preoccupation on Thomas' mind. Someone dancing a little too close or a man with wandering hands were enough for the brunet to glare daggers at the poor soul until that one met his dark eyes and walked away. Sometimes, it would stop there, Newt would keep dancing, they would end the transaction and the night would go on without any problem, but sometimes, the stranger would be too busy to notice the glare sent his way, and would keep dancing, getting closer and closer by the minutes until he'd make the deadly mistake of putting his hands on the blond. Last time it had happened, Thomas had gotten up and needless to say the man hadn't been able to walk out of the club without a few bruises.
The point was that Newt was a burden. The only sight of him made Gally grit his teeth. He was either too calm, either too dynamic. Some days he'd be silent, completely mute, staying in Thomas' bedroom to draw for hours and making the brunet ridiculously worried for the entire day, and some others, he'd litteraly be shaking with energy, going out in the middle of the day and behaving recklessly. Not only did he risk his own life and the leader's sanity, but that meant that he needed protection, and that was where he became a real burden.
Gally sighed, leaning back in the loveseat as he kept twirling his straw in his drink, incredibly bored. Usually, he would've been taking part of what was happening at the table, ranting and threating the guest until everything played out the way they were supposed too, but tonight he wasn't included. He had been ordered to watch over Newt lately, which he found incredibly ridiculous. That was another reason he could add to the list of why the blond had nothing to do here, let alone with the leader. The worst thing was that Gally was actually ready to do it. This gang was his family, he would do anything for it, and if it meant looking after the stupid reckless leader's boyfriend, then so be it, but it would of course have been too easy. That annoying, careless nut-job had threatened Gally. Yeah, threatened him, with a knife to top it all off. The man had just been trying to do his job, subtly following Newt as the blond made his way through their base the night before, when the blond had suddenly whipped around, a kitchen knife in hand, threating him to kill him and Thomas if he kept following his every movement like that. This usually wouldn't have scared Gally at all, if only there was a kitchen where Newt could have stolen that knife anywhere in sight. It wasn't the case, and the blond just happened to carry dangerous weapons hidden on him all day. Needless to say that, with his thin frame and the tight pants he always wore, the man had no idea how Newt did that. Of course, after this incident, Gally had gone to Thomas, and he barely had had time to say a word before the brunet had asked him if Newt had threatened him, sighing as he tiredly rubbed his forehead. Of course, he already knew the answer, and, of course, that didn't dismiss Gally from his mission.
That was why he was now slouched back into the loveseat, bored out of his mind. He couldn't even try to subtly listen to the deal happening right next to him because Minho kept his voice so low Gally would've needed to lean towards them to hear anything. He didn't even know how Thomas, sitting next to Minho, could hear anything while leaning back casually in his seat.
The blond hadn't noticed how he had been staring at the exchange until Thomas glanced at him, making him quickly look away, staring back at the crowd to at least look like he was doing his job. His eyes scanned the dance floor for a few seconds, searching for a glimpse of blond hair among the crowd, until a couple convienently took a step aside as they danced, letting a mop of blond hair appear in Gally's field of vision. As soon as his eyes landed on him, Gally's heart missed a beat. As usual, the young man had his eyes closed, completely lost in the music blasting his ears off, dancing with his opened shirt which revealed his tone chest swaying around him as he moved to the beat of the music; and, as usual, a poor soul was right behind him, unaware of the gang's presence and of his status among the group. As said earlier, this type of situation wasn't unusual. It made Thomas grit his teeth, and could quickly take a bad turn, but, most of the time, the man would end up walking away at the end of the song, or Newt would simply drift to another part of the dance floor without even acknowledging his presence. Of course, this time had to be different. The man was already way too close to Newt, almost grinding against him, and the blond was either too clueless, either too dumb to care. When he was dancing, almost nothing could disturb him. It was his freedom. There was nothing the blond despised and loved at the same time more than the club. It was too loud, too crowded, the flickering lights made his head ache, but at the same time, it was just loud enough for him to forget about his thoughts for at least an hour a night. When he was dancing, he wasn't thinking about anything, letting his body sway around at the rhythm of the music blasting through the place. It was his only escape, and no one could take that away from him, not even a drunken guy.
For a moment, Gally almost thought things were going to be alright. He really thought the man would stay at least two feet away from Newt, the song would end, things wouldn't degenerate, and he wouldn't have to go play the babysitter by "protecting" the young man from this threat. And that's probably how things would have played out, if the poor soul suddenly didn't start to feel brave, taking a step towards Newt before shamelessly groping his ass. There was a brutal sound on Gally's left, and the man whipped his head around just in time to see Thomas slamming his gun flat against the glass table as he shot up.
Gally was going to lose his job. He was going to lose his job over a goddamn reckless idiot. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Minho rolling his eyes, annoyed by the brunet's behavior who was, once again, disrupting the exchange. The raven-haired boy was close to Newt, so, of course, unlike Gally, he was irritated by Thomas' protectiveness, and didn't blame the blond. He then stood up too, ready to do his job and go punch the man, when Thomas sat back down, wearing a knowing smirk. Gally furrowed his eyebrow, wearing an expression of deep confusion, and glanced back at the dance floor.
Newt had turned around, and was now facing the man with an angry scowl on his face. The man, who was apparently more drunk than Gally would've thought, didn't falter under the blond's glare, and tried to make another step towards him, when Newt suddenly grabbed his shoulders, bringing him down as he dug his knee into the man's stomach. Doubling over, the man barely had time to catch his breath before Newt forcefully wrapped a hand around his arm, twisting it into an unnatural angle until a painful crack was heard. Gally watched, bewildered, as the man screamed in pain, shouting a few curses at the blond who just let go of his arm, staring blankly at him as he fell at his feet. Gally turned his head towards Thomas, his eyebrows so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. The brunet was wearing a proud smile so bright it could have blinded a man, Gally had never seen him like that. He looked back at Newt just in time to see the blond's glance land on their booth. His eyes lingered for a few seconds on his lover, and he shot him a confident wink before disappearing once again into the crowd. For once, he didn't come to sit in Thomas' lap to show the entire club he was his. He didn't need to, because he wasn't just the leader's boyfriend.
He was the founder of the Gladers, and god help anyone who'd dare forget it.