This damn science project was going to be the death of him, Gally was sure. Here he was, freezing his mothershucking ass off in the January snowfall, on the wide porch of Thomas' huge house. Even in his three layers of T-shirt, blue hoodie, and leather jacket, he was shivering. All because of a stupid group project Mr. Janson had assigned. If Gally ever saw that rat-faced teacher alone, in a dark alley...

Just then, the oaken front door swung open in front of him. Warmth and golden light radiated from inside; a familiar form appeared in the doorway. Gally felt his heart leap in his chest and mentally cursed at himself. "Hey, Gally!" Thomas greeted cheerfully, a dazzling grin on his face. The light from inside the house was a marvelous backdrop, lighting his fawn-colored hair to bronze and silhouetting his broad shoulders. He was wearing his favorite, pale blue shirt and was absolutely rocking his dark Levi's.

Gally took a precious second to reteach his lungs how to breathe properly. "Hey, Thomas," he said. "You gonna let me in, or watch me die of hypothermia?"

"I'll let you in," Thomas laughed. "But I'm warning you: the rest of our group just showed up and so far, they're not getting any work done. At all."

"As expected." Gally sighed and crossed the porch. Thomas stepped aside to let him in and Gally could've sworn he caught the scent of Thomas' cologne as he passed. Dear God, even his smell drove Gally wild.

"So, did YOU at least do some work before you came here?" Thomas asked in amusement. He pushed the door shut behind him and came to stand next to Gally.

"If I say yes, can I sit on the couch and eat instead of doing anything?" Gally asked, unzipping his jacket.

Thomas tilted his head back with a groan of mock despair. "We are all screwed."

"Again, as expected." Gally shrugged out of his jacket, revealing his royal blue hoodie.

Thomas smiled broadly. "Hey, you wore it."

"Huh?" Gally asked in confusion. Then, "oh yeah." The hoodie had been a Christmas present from Thomas; it had the word Gladers printed across the front in black, which was the nickname they had invented for their gang of friends at Glade High.

Thomas tugged playfully at Gally's sleeve. "It's cute on you," he remarked, and Gally felt all warm and woozy inside. Did Thomas just call him cute? Did he seriously just call him cute?

"I... Thanks," Gally stammered, a half-smile pulling at his lips. Then he just stared at Thomas, unable to look away from those gorgeous brown eyes. With a mental slap, he broke from his trance. "So, we gonna study or what?"

Thomas sighed. "We can try. They're in the kitchen." He gestured down the hallway that led straight back through the house to the kitchen.

Gally followed Thomas down the hall, wondering if the other half of their project-group was doing anything useful at all in there. He emerged into the room behind Thomas and saw that...no. They were NOT doing anything useful.

"Gally, where've you been?!" Alby asked in greeting, straightening up from where he'd been looking for something in the fridge. His dark eyes glimmered and his grin flashed white against his dusky skin. "We've been waiting for you, man! Right, Min?"

Minho was perched on the counter, one foot dangling and the other braced on the kitchen island. He had his phone in his hands, texting intently. He glanced up at Alby's voice. "Huh?"

Alby tossed his hands up in the air. "Dude, you haven't heard one word I said all night!" he complained.

"Say something interesting and maybe I'll listen, shank," Minho flashed back, but with a teasing grin.

"Stop sexting your boyfriend and maybe I'll say something interesting, shuck-face."

Thomas raised his eyebrows. "Sexting?"

Minho actually blushed. "That's not what's happening here!" he protested.

Alby kicked the fridge door shut and broke into a girly imitation of Minho. "'Oh, Newt, you have no idea how much I WANT you to lick my—"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH," Minho snapped, turning bright red.

Gally rubbed at his temples. "Oh, I really wish I didn't hear what I just heard," he mumbled, closing his eyes as though praying for strength.

"Same here, trust me," Thomas replied with feeling. Then he raised his voice, speaking to Minho and Alby. "All right, are you guys gonna do some actual WORK or do you just wanna give up on this now?"

Minho raised his hand. "I gave up as soon as I walked through the door," he admitted shamelessly.

"And I'm fine with giving up now," Alby put in, crossing his arms and nodding importantly.

"So...basically I showed up for no reason," Gally concluded flatly.

Thomas shrugged apologetically. "Sorry," he said, smiling in hope of forgiveness. "But we could have Movie Night early. Without Brenda or Teresa here to pick the movie."

"Thank GOD," Alby said, glancing heavenward. "Something other than Titanic or some Nicolas Sparks shit. What're we watchin?"

Minho flashed a wicked smirk. "Magic Mike?" He snickered as Alby proceeded to make disgusted choking noises in reply.

Thomas rolled his eyes at both of them. "Just go pick something out, you shanks."

The two boys jumped up and headed for the doorway to Thomas' living room, laughing and discussing movie ideas as they went. Alby wanted to watch anything BUT Magic Mike and Minho was jokingly insisting on putting it on. Thomas craned his neck to shout after them, "and nothing with any strippers, Minho!" Minho's grumble of complaint followed. Thomas shook his head in defeat, running a hand through his hair. "Sometimes, I wonder why I'm friends with them," he remarked.

Gally had been silent throughout the movie-choosing exchange because he didn't really care what they watched. (And, to his embarrassment, he secretly had a soft spot for the romance movies no one wanted to see) "I wonder that every day," he told Thomas matter-of-factly. He began to trail after Minho and Alby.

"Um...Gally?" Thomas' voice made Gally halt and turn, puzzled. Thomas was shifting his feet, looking a little nervous. But Thomas never looked nervous. "There's, uh, something I wanted to talk to you about."

Gally blinked. "What is it?" he asked.

"Um." Thomas folded his arms over his chest and absently bit his lip, a sure sign of his anxiety. "Have...have you been...avoiding me?"

Well, this was not what Gally was expecting. He was surprised, but also ashamed. Ashamed because he had been keeping his distance from Thomas, at least a little bit. He was afraid that his crush on him would show and then he'd ruin their friendship. He prepared to lie, but curiously, what came out of his mouth wasn't a lie. "A little," he mumbled. Then he immediately wanted to punch himself.

The hurt in Thomas' face broke his heart. "Why?" he asked, soulful brown eyes imploring. "What did I do?"

"N—nothing!" Gally insisted, growing panicked now. "I mean...it wasn't something you did...it's just..." How was he supposed to explain this? "It's just...you."

"Me?" Thomas repeated, looking more hurt than ever.

Gally didn't know what else to say. "Yes, you," he blurted out. "You and your smile, and your voice, and God, your body, and the way you're always so damn nice to me. I can't get close to you, because then you'd know, and shit, now you do know, and you must think I'm disgusting." He lowered his eyes to the floor, his face burning. He'd just ruined everything. Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut?

Thomas was silent for a few moments, putting it all together in his head. "Gally," he said at last, quietly, "what are you saying?"

Gally shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket and didn't meet Thomas' gaze. "I'm in love with you," he mumbled, blushing as he admitted it.

There was a shivering moment of silence then.

Gally was terrified, and devastated, and nervous all at the same time. He heard Thomas take a step toward him, to push past him maybe and walk away. But that wasn't what happened. Instead, he felt hands cradling his face, tipping his chin up. And then Thomas kissed him.

Gally didn't know what to do at first. He froze. But Thomas kept teasing his lips with soft kisses, and Gally made a tiny sound before finally kissing him back. It was so soft and sweet, like Thomas. He was heart-meltingly gentle, easing Gally's hands out of his hoodie pocket so that he could lace their fingers together. Gally was drowning, falling underwater, and he didn't care. Thomas guided Gally's hands around his waist and when he felt the warm strength of Thomas through his shirt, Gally melted. Thomas' hands were at his neck now, fingertips brushing his dark hair. He never wanted it to end.

They broke apart, their foreheads touching, arms around each other. Gally looked into Thomas' eyes and trembled when he saw the emotion in their mahogany depths. Thomas smiled slightly. "God, I've wanted to kiss you for so long," he murmured.

Gally's heart skipped. "You—you have?"

"Yeah," Thomas chuckled, amused with Gally's stammering. He stroked his thumb over Gally's cheek, making him shiver. "Since I met you, I've wanted to be with you, Gally." He leaned in to nuzzle Gally's neck. "To hold you like this," he murmured against his skin.

Gally felt little shocks of pleasure dance across his skin at Thomas' touch. This was actually happening. Thomas actually had feelings for him. He let out a shaky breath of relief and buried his face in Thomas' shoulder. "I never thought you'd feel the same," he admitted. "I always thought I didn't deserve you, because I'm so plain and you're..." He broke off, sheepish, then added, "...gorgeous."

Thomas' laughter vibrated in his chest. He pulled back to raise his eyebrows at Gally, a grin quirking his lips. "You think I'm gorgeous?"

Gally felt himself turning red. "Shut up." He nosed farther into the crook of Thomas' neck, until his lips brushed skin. To his surprise, he heard a tiny whimper.

"I love you, Gally," Thomas whispered, clinging to him.

Happiness blossomed in every part of him and Gally nearly sobbed at the love he felt swelling in his heart. He hugged Thomas to him and vowed to never, ever let him go. "I love you, too."