Author's Note: I do not own TMR. All rights go to James Dashner because he's the brilliant man who brought us TMR and he's pretty hot for an old guy.

Due to popular demand, here is Part IV of Our Bet! Before I start it off I would like to give my thanks to the wonderful people who Alert and Favorite my stories as they honestly do make me enjoy writing, but to most especially the people who take the time to drop Reviews as they push me to write even more (except the one person who posted some weird link in Our Bet's review page I was like 'WTF is this shit?').

A special thanks to Shiori and Shiroi and fauveism. I've seen you guys frequently dropping me reviews and that's wonderful thank you for those reviews they mean a lot to me and I'm grateful you're taking time to write them out. Remember lengthy constructive and non-ragey reviews make me really motivated! Love you all honestly!

Part IV

"You're a bloody idiot, you know that right?"

Thomas mumbled grumpily, not meeting his boyfriend's mocking eyes as he opened his mouth slightly, letting the blonde drop a creamy blob of chicken soup into his mouth.

"Imagine that, a concussion after running into a pole," Newt chuckled as Thomas made a face at the soup's texture, sticking out his tongue with a disgusted 'Blehhh!' as he got ready another spoonful, "and then catching a cold after falling into a lake."

"It was an accident," Thomas grumbled, folding his arms crossly, shaking his head when Newt tried to feed him another mouthful of the overly-creamy soup.

The blonde's eyebrows twitched in annoyance.

"Eat."

"Don't wanna."

"It's good for you."

"I'm not hungry."

"Don't be a brat, Tommy."

Thomas shot a glare at the blonde at the insult. He hated being called a brat.

"It's too thick."

Newt rolled his eyes. Wasn't chicken soup supposed to be thick?

"Are you questioning my cooking skills?"

Thomas eyes widened at that and almost succumbed to the sad, puppy dog expression on the angel's face. He really needed to get used to his boyfriend's facial expressions at some point of time. But hell, Newt couldn't make a sandwich if his life depended on it. Thomas could still remember the time where Newt tried to make a 'bento' two months ago. Thomas wasn't an expert in making 'bentos' but he sure as hell knew rice balls did not look black and tempura was not supposed to look like carrots.

"Eat up, big boy," Newt smiled cheekily when he watched Thomas's defiance wane.

Thomas flushed.

"Don't call me that!"

Newt gave a childish giggle as he prodded the brunette's mouth with the spoon, staring at those beautiful red lips clenching around the silver utensil, sucking up the soup and gulping it in one go. The blonde watched as a trail of creamy liquid trickle down his chin and could feel blood rise to his cheeks at the sight. His Tommy lying lazily on the bed, sheets drawn messily over his clothed body, tissues by his side and face flushing a beautiful red.

Newt's heart drummed against his chest. Thomas could be quite teasing without knowing it.

"I hate creamy stuff," Thomas complained, letting his boyfriend clean up the stain on his chin as he kicked off his sheets. His body was burning like hell and his shirt was drenched from sweat. He desperately wanted Newt to turn on the air-conditioner but the blonde was adamant against it even though it was like stifling hot outside and with the burning heat of the soup in his throat things were not making Thomas any cooler.

Newt's jaw dropped slightly.

Damn, did Thomas always look that good sweaty and shirtless?

Self-control, Newt, self-control, Newt repeated over and over again, trying to drill into his head that Thomas was sicker than a dog and this would probably not be the best time to get his blood boiling with furor and make him overexert himself.

No matter how much said boyfriend was moaning and groaning into the sheets looking like he just got fucked and was riding out his release.

Thomas coughed haphazardly, breaking Newt's thoughts, causing him to panic and almost drop the bowl of soup onto the floor.

"Lozenges? Water? What can I get for you?"

Thomas gazed tiredly at his boyfriend's face and nearly laughed. His shaggy blonde hair had been pulled back into a very housewife-like ponytail, and with his androgynous features, he certainly could pull off as one. His eyebrows were drawn together in worry, brown eyes dark with anxiety and his fingers nervously tapping against the bedpost. He was wearing a frilly pink apron – yeah Thomas didn't even knew he owned one either and he certainly had no complaints about it – , a simple white shirt and baggy black pants that were too big for him.

Housewife Newt. Such a simple yet visually adorable concept.

"You as a housewife," escaped Thomas's mouth before he could take them back.

Newt stared at him incredulously.

The blonde could barely tell whether the brunette was joking or not, but even if he wasn't, he could already feel himself grabbing a pillow to shield Thomas from seeing his blush.

"R-Repeat what you just said."

Thomas blinked at the blonde, wondering why he was turning away from him and covering his face with a pillow.

"I want you to be my housewife," Thomas started to giggle, having the decency to blush at what he just said. He was pretty sure this was Sick!Thomas talking but he honestly just didn't give a damn. Newt had been making him blush and horny all day and it was only the first day of their bet. He had four more days to deal with his bullshit before he actually cracked, and since Newt was a very reasonable person he wouldn't go as low as to tease him when he was vulnerable. He should enjoy his grace period while it lasted.

"Why a housewife?"

Newt sat down on the side of the bed, his blush calming down to light shades of pink as he brushed the brunette's sweaty fringe away, lip biting in worry as he felt his love's forehead. It was warmer than normal human temperature, and it hadn't gone down since an hour ago. He was sniffing quite a bit but he stopped coughing after a few minutes.

"Cuz you can take care of me all the time," Thomas smiled goofily, the heat finally getting to his brain, "and you can wear an apron."

Newt's eyebrows shot up to his forehead.

"You like it when I wear an apron?" Newt looked down self-consciously at the too-pink apron hanging loosely around his frame. This was probably Theresa's though. Only Minho would buy her something that girly before deciding to lend it to Newt.

"Yeah!" Thomas's face brightened up, causing his flush to peak a few degrees as he sat up, almost knocking Newt off his feet.

"You should wear a dress," Thomas blurted.

Newt's face had gone from pink to shock-white in a second. Maybe it was just him, or that Thomas had suddenly become very aggressive, but he had a good feeling that he should knock him out before he started to do anything drastic. Like the time he jumped off a moving ferry 'just for kicks' and then tried to sit on a grumpy panda who was clearly on its period and not to mention very angry.

"You would look so cute," Thomas gushed lovingly, pulling the dazed blonde into his arms and almost crushing him in an iron grip, "you'd look good in a short one, shows off your sexy legs." Thomas watched in amusement as Newt turned fifty shades of red, desperately trying to remove himself from the brunette before he started to do things he might regret.

"And then stockings," a nostalgic look passed through Thomas's eyes, "black ones, and a garter belt."

Thomas could involuntarily feel Newt shiver at the thought as Thomas held onto him, relishing the feeling of being the dominant one in the relationship, the tease and not the one that got teased, and he realized why Newt enjoyed being the tease. It was delightful seeing your submissive in a vulnerable and weak position as you slowly drove them to their breaking point.

"You'd look so sexy," Thomas slithered up the blonde's loose shirt, feeling the cold, smooth skin on his fingertips as Newt bucked into him and moaned, gripping harshly onto the bed sheets, "pure and innocent, yet so damn hot."

Thomas brushed over the blonde's already pert nipple and pinched it, eliciting a cry of pleasure from vice president as he bit down on Thomas's shirt, trying to muffle his hoarse groans as the brunette continued his ministrations on his chest, the apron straps already falling off his shoulders as he attempted again and again to pry himself off, but to no avail.

"Tommy," Newt bit his lip, doing his best to control himself from trying to take advantage of a sick person, "we should stop."

"Why?" Thomas growled, nipping harshly on his boyfriend's earlobe, enjoying the satisfactory shudder the blonde produced as he continued licking it, watching him for any further reactions, "You've been a fuckin' huge tease all day, you deserve it."

Newt buried his head against his chest, trying out to muffle out that stupidly husky and addictive tone his Tommy was using as he grinded against his thigh. He didn't want to do this, even if his entire body screamed for it, but he had limits, and this was one.

Yet, he couldn't stop.

Newt felt tears prickling his eyes as Thomas teasingly played with his sore nipples, pulling them, stroking them and rubbing them to the point where people would notice them sticking out under his shirt. Newt flushed in embarrassment at such a dirty exhibitionist thought, knowing full well he might want that hand down to where he wanted it most.

"Stop, Tommy, please –" Newt's breath was cut short as he felt another sensation on lower abdomen. His voice escaped him completely and he could only reply in choked sobs as Thomas's calloused hand started palming his crotch, stroking his clothed shaft with slow, tantalizing strokes. If Newt wasn't already broken before, he surely could shatter now. The combined touches on his chest and cock were starting to overwhelm him completely.

And then Thomas released him from restraints. He had to bite back every single moan that exploded his body as he felt a warm hand around his throbbing, leaking cock, pumping it slowly as he moaned and groaned into the brunette's neck, cursing himself for his lack of control over his sex-craving body.

Newt could already feel him reaching his climax as he humped himself against Thomas's hand, begging for more friction as he whimpered into the tan neck, licking eagerly at the sultry, salty taste of Thomas as he could feel the fire in his cock explode.

"Please Tommy –"

He needed to cum. Four more strokes, and he would've done him in.

First stroke. Newt was wailing frustratingly against Thomas's neck, thrashing wildly as he pressed his thumb over the tip, leaking wanton strips of pre cum down his shaft.

Second stroke. Thomas was pressing against his vein, sending Newt over the edge as he wrapped his arms around his neck, breathing haggardly and silently begging for him to end it. End this beautiful torture he had been forced into.

Third stroke. Newt could already feel himself exploding with ecstasy as Thomas gave him a hard thrust that drove his already unstable mind overboard, the brunette's eyes never leaving his own.

"Please, please, please Tommy let me cum please – "

The fourth stroke never came.

Newt had waited. He'd bloody waited for three seconds before realizing Thomas had removed himself from his hard cock and laid back against the bed post, hands behind his head in a very relaxed manner and a smug, victorious smile on his face.

The expression on Newt's face changed drastically.

Newt had never felt so sexually frustrated before, and if he wasn't sexually frustrated now, he probably knew he was probably along the lines of pissed off and angry. No, not just angry. Positively, absolutely furious.

"Tommy, what are you doing?"

Thomas's smile never faltered, though he did admit a flash of fear had crossed his eyes at the possibly dangerous look entered the normally cheery blonde's features.

"That was payback for teasing me all day."

Newt blinked at him, rage still bottled up in his eyes.

"Have fun jacking off," Thomas said sweetly, "as you do know, I'm sick, and you probably have better values than to take advantage of a sick person, hmm?"

Thomas could almost hear Newt cursing himself for having morals.

Thomas felt a cold glare hit him, and shivered excitedly.

"I hate you sometimes, Tommy."

Before Thomas could even blink, the blonde had jumped off the bed and escaped into the bathroom where he slammed the door shut with a BAM!

Thomas grinned to himself and pulled up the covers, satisfied when he heard the not-so discreet groans coming from the bathroom.

Revenge is sweet.

And here is Part IV of Our Bet! It's a bit different, more of the take of Thomas being the aggressive one and finally paying back Newt for what he did to him. Just wanted to try somethin' new, hope y'all shanks liked it.

As usual, reviews are very highly appreciated. Reviews, not spam, thank you!