Alby and I have a complicated relationship. Truth be told, we always have, and, in a way, I believe that there are some factors in our togetherness that will remain a tad bit confusing; but I expected that firsthand coming into this ordeal. Though, many people take complications as something negative, something dysfunctional in our close… partnership. That is entirely untrue-a bit of mystification or uncertainty between or tightly fitted liaison is not a bad thing-nor is it necessarily good, either. It simply is, and we do not mind at all.
At first, of course, I was skeptical about, honestly, everything. Everything Alby did for me, said to me, as if it was merely a long line of subtle, secretive lies to get-putting it bluntly-into my shucking pants. Being it that there were no girls whatsoever in the Glade, many of us chose to endeavor in homosexual tendencies, whilst many were as straight as a bloody pole. This was not surprising in the least to me-think about it. Boys were sent here, pretty much between the ages rounded to twelve or sixteen. Right when hormones begin to spike above all else, there was bound to be some fraternization, no matter the gender.
Call me "old style"; but that conception always seemed wrong to me, as if you're disrespecting your body, defiling yourself. I detested it, but the happenings were not uncommon. People whom I knew associated like that, well… my liking for them dropped significantly. I never really had those particular urges. I do my job as a leader, a tour guide for Greenies, and a friend, occasionally. There was no desire to have sexual intercourse, and, really, I didn't even think about it.
In fact, that idea that someone would sleep with someone else just to do it, just for fun repulsed me to the brink of almost becoming celibate and practicing sexual abstinence. No one would be stealing my buggin' virginity, not now, not ever. Or, at least, that's what I thought. Alby and I did end up sharing our intimate, ecstasy moment, but I shall address that later.
Not many people are a real fan of Alby, for he has a temper and a poor sense of grammar, so I doubt anyone would really long to touch him in that manner-plus, most of the Gladers feel threatened by him and his masculinity, his obvious power over everyone here. So his options for a bedroom companion were slim to none. The only candidate either one of us, surely, could think of, was me, myself, and I.
So when he came up to me and confessed his feelings, I did not believe him in the slightest.
I have to admit, I cannot make the first move. There were too many complications that restrained me from going up to him and telling him how I felt. It was a slinthead move, but I was too much of a wussy to confront him about any bloody emotions I suspected I was having for him. That made me decide that if we were to ever have something special, he would have to be the one to make it happen, for I, simply, could not.
Luckily, that was the case. The sun was gently struggling to set under the horizon, casting a pale orange glow over the Glade. Sluggish Gladers were stumbling about, exhausted from their long day working, ready to retire to bed. Quiet, miniscule yawns could be heard at various intervals of time, but I did not mind. This was a daily routine here, and though I have yet to feel at home, after two years at least it felt familiar.
The Runners had returned only moments before, their bodies obvious with bone-tired fatigue. As I watched them clomp out of the Maze, I couldn't withhold my slight grimace. My gaze flicked down to my injured appendage, recollecting my accident in waves.
Stupid Maze.
Stupid Limp.
Stupid Glade.
I sighed, knowing that being bloody sour over the tribulation wasn't going to strengthen me in any way. Still, I suppose, it felt good to grumble.
Whilst the sun still looked like an orange beacon cut in half by some greater being than myself, I made my way over to a special hiding place that I had found one day after running through the maze. It was one of my first days as a Runner, and I was extremely weary. Eyes blurring, legs stumbling, mind swirling, I managed to lose myself here, of all places.
It was out in the woods, though away from the graveyard, which was just my buggin' luck, I guess. It was an abrupt clearing, as if someone comes and cleans away all of the weeds from entering. Also, it was merely a large circle, but the view was bloody great. Looking straight ahead you could watch the sun rise, and the sun set. Now, I'm no shucking sap or anything, but it was just… beautiful. Sometimes I would sit there and pretend that I was on a beach with my family. I swore to myself I would never envision my folks, since that's what the Greenies and babies of the Glade do, but here, in my secret place, my safe haven of sweet solitude, I could bloody well do whatever I want.
So, I sat there watching the sunset like some gushing, pansy fool, when, maybe only two minutes after, I heard the distant sound of rustling leaves and footsteps ungracefully thudding through dirt and mud. I jumped up, ready to fight if need be, but as branches pulled away to reveal who it was, my demeanor became at ease and I lessened my stance.
"Alby!" I yelped, shaking my head. "You scared me like a mother. What are you doing here? How did you find me?" Putting my hands on my hips, I thought about it. "Did… did you follow me here, Alby?" I quirked my blonde brow, waiting for his reply to my query. His posture seemed… different. Odd, somehow. His shoulders were slightly raised, and I couldn't tell if it was the sun's rays reflecting off of his dark skin, or if a slight blush threatened to creep up into his cheeks. He almost appeared to be, well, awkward. Perhaps even nervous. I shook that propaganda away-how unfathomable. Alby? Anxious over something? No, that couldn't be. Could it?
After I had asked my question, a heavy layer of silence fell upon us, crushing me with its weight. I mentally begged him to say something, to break this fog of unease, but he did not. Instead, he locked eyes with mine and steadily held my gaze. I tried not to falter, but the intensity of our irises made me almost wince. "Alby…" I hesitantly said, voice strained. "Alby, what are you-" He abruptly cut me off, for he advanced on me, making the space between us smaller and smaller until there was nothing between us but our own bodies, and our lips crashed against one another.
I was taken aback, of course. He squeezed his eyes shut, but mine flew open and I gawked at him, taking in all of his features while I could. I remember, so distinctly, all that I could hear was the hammering of my heart, and I thought I heard his, too. His lips were strong and firm against mine, but surprisingly soft. I hadn't realized that his hands gripped my arms until his hold tightened, making me whimper. Or, maybe the whimper was due to the feel of his lips on mine. Either way, it was both painful, and enjoyable. I had never kissed anyone before, so I was unsure of how it should feel. Alby was rough at first-very much so-but after a few hearty seconds he lessened his brute strength, and the pressure of his fingers on my forearms decreased, which was a relief.
Soon I was able to ease into him as well, which I did as soon as I could. I longed to let him know I enjoyed this, that I wanted him as much as I hoped he wanted me. In that moment I wandered if he was only doing this so he could "get some" tonight, but I pushed the thought clear out of my cranium.
Don't speculate. Just bloody enjoy it, Idiot.
That is precisely what I did.
Alby relaxed immensely, and when I felt the time was right I hesitantly reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, if it were possible. Our bodies were compressed against one another, and yet we were still too far apart. He let go of my arms to, instead, hold me around the waist, feeling the small of my back. I tensed as his fingers brushed bare skin, lifting up my thin shirt to expose my backside.
Before I realized my throat was preparing for speech, I weakly moaned, "Alby…" This seemed to excite him, for his entire palm felt my naked back, moving upwards to my shoulder blades, whilst his other hand fell to my belt loop, then found its way down, teasing the lining of my underwear. I gasped in surprise of his abruptness, and he took advantage of my opened mouth, for his tongue plunged inside it and I groaned loudly, taken aback by the sweltering heat beginning in my groin.
No! My mind began to shout as his tongue explored the inside of my mouth, causing endless shivers to course through my spine. Get him off of you, Slinthead-don't let him take advantage of you! My body wanted more, but my mind was smart enough to send off alarms. Startled, fortunate that it hadn't gone far enough to where I would not be able to restrain myself, I put my hands against his chest, willing him away. "Alby," I said around his intruding tongue, practically shoving him away.
Finally he recoiled, looking as frazzled as I felt. I managed to take a step away, trying in a futile attempt to regain my composer. Panting, sweat beading my brow, I pursed my lips. He looked at me, eyes wild, then shook his head and stood straight. "Newt, look, I-"
"Save it." I interrupted, holding up my hand. "Listen, Alby… I know that options for, uhm, partners are difficult, but… I-I don't want to be used. I'm sorry, mate, but I want my first time to be special, and-"
"Shut up," Alby said, taking a step closer. I stopped, looking at him. "You really think I'm just usin' you for… for sex?" I flinched at his bluntness. "If I just wanted to do it, I'd pick someone I don't have any attachments to, Slinthead. Just 'cause other people go 'round sleepin' with each other doesn't mean I'm like that." I longed to look down in shame for having suspected him of that, but instead I held his gaze, clenching and unclenching my fists.
"Listen, shuck-face," He continued, rubbing at his temples as if the accusation was giving him a headache, "I like you, alright? A lot. And I ain't good with words; that's why I just kissed you spot on. It's because I didn't know what to say, not because I just wanted to have a fling with you."
I did not notice I was holding my breath until I slowly let it out, wiping my sweaty palms on the sides of my pants. "I'm sorry, Alby." I said earnestly, unsure of how exactly to respond. "I just… guess I don't really understand why you, ya know, like me, so I figured…" My voice trailed off. Alby finished my sentence by stating, "So you figured I just wanted to get in your pants." I gritted my teeth as heat spread across my face, but there was no denying it. "Yeah." I looked away, left, right, anywhere but at him.
"Ya know, you can be real stupid sometimes, Newt." Suddenly he was right in front of me, grabbing my hands in his (which made me feel quite embarrassed, since they were really clammy) and squeezing them. His face was only two inches away from my own, making my heart skip a beat. "But you're also the smartest person I know." With that he planted a gentle kiss atop my forehead.
That night was one of the best nights of my life. Still, I couldn't fight the ludicrous doubts that still festered in the back of my subconscious, so we remained a couple and I made sure we dated for at least a month before I finally let him sleep with me. Yet I was still lenient about the whole thing, but Alby soothed me and cooed sweet nothings into my ear the entire time. I hadn't the clue that Alby could be so kind, let alone in the bedroom. He continuously reassured me that if I did not want to do it I did not have to, and he kept repeating, "Don't worry, I love you. Don't worry, I love you. Don't worry, I love you." Until finally those words didn't sound right, they just sounded like a slur of syllables mashed together.
But I didn't mind it one bit.
Alby didn't excessively tell me that he loved me, so, in a way, it felt even more special when he did. Every time we would make love, or if I was depressed, or if he was depressed-those were the times he would let it slip how much I mean to him, and I loved it. I love this relationship. I love what we have.
I love him.
Our first time was miraculous-despite the confusion at first. Both of us had our virginity, and didn't have anyone to explain exactly where to put what. We knew the basics of how to go about it, but the details were foggy to both of us. Eventually we were able to get the hang of it, and when he thrusted correctly, I saw stars and black dots from pleasure. It was magnificent. Sounds of love, of moans, of a shaking bed and sexily slapping skin filled the room, but I barely noticed.
When we finished I fell asleep in his arms, unable to remember a time I felt this tired, nor this safe. Alby and I kept our relationship secret-I don't believe he really cared who found out, but I was embarrassed and he respected that, so we kept our relation a secret. Though Alby would report every now and again that he figured a few Gladers suspected, they had no proof or evidence, so I wasn't worried.
Our couple is a happy one, still with complications, but as I have previously stated, not necessarily negative ones. Nor positive ones. But Alby and I remain happy, and though the slight doubts still pop up every now and again, they are less frequent and I ponder the possibility less and less by each passing day.
I love Alby, and the feelings reciprocate for me. This isn't the prettiest relationship, or the most functional in the world, but one thing is for sure.
This is real.
