Author's Note ~ I hope you enjoy.
The forest behind them was silent now, no crashing footsteps or rustling foliage betrayed the hunters as they slipped away into the night, their hunt thwarted.
For now.
Excitement lay thick in the glade as the boys worked eagerly, preparing for the much anticipated party. Adrian and Alby worked together, plotting and planning as they directed the boys to clear a large area in the center of the glade, gather mammoth piles of firewood and cart supplies out from storage. Alby supervised the building of a large stone lined circular fire pit right in the middle of the newly cleared space, while Adrian spent most of the morning and early afternoon helping the sloppers and track-hos create a wrestling ring; a rough oval, about twenty feet across. After digging it down about a foot, they made trip after trip to the edge of the stream, bringing up dozens and dozens of buckets of fine clean sand. By the time the runners returned for the day and everyone was ready for a meal break, the central common area was almost unrecognizable; the sparse, dull area had already been transformed into a clear gathering spot. When the benches, tables, and various other comforts were built and placed tomorrow, it would truly be a space worthy of holding their great celebration.
Newt and Minho, having admired the changes to the space as they passed by on their way to dinner, accepted their plates from Frypan and sought out Adrian in the busy dining area, eager for news about the party preparations. The man was sitting with a handful of sloppers, puffing on a cigarette and smiling, gesturing widely as he explained something and the boys with him laughed and shoved at each other. The tiniest spark of irritation lit in Newt's gut at the sight, although he had no idea why. Plopping into a seat, he grunted a greeting to the man and fastidiously applied himself to his dinner. Minho spared Newt a quizzical glance before taking his own seat, looking across at the man and crinkling his nose.
"Do you have to do that here? It smells like week old socks. You'll put me off my stew."
"You joined my table," Adrian reminded, taking another deep, satisfying pull on his cigarette. "I didn't twist your arm to get you here. But, if it bothers you so much, I'll take myself elsewhere. There are a few things I'd like to finish up tonight." When he stood the sloppers stood with him, still laughing amongst themselves. As the group of them started to head off, Newt hastily swallowed his mouth full of stew and called out to the man.
"Oi, Adrian!"
The man stopped for a moment, turning and looking back at the table.
"Yeah?"
Newt hesitated a little, not exactly sure what to say.
"D'you mind if I...pop by...later on?"
Adrian lifted a brow, but shrugged amiably.
"Whatever you like, kid. You know where to find me."
So saying he turned and left with the others, wandering in the direction of the gathering space. Newt shot Minho a dirty look as he shoved his empty plate away from him, shaking his head when his friend just rolled his eyes.
"What was that about?"
Though a little gleam of mischief glittered clearly in his eyes, Minho did his best to look innocent.
"What d'you mean, Newtie? I didn't do anything at all!"
"You basically told him to piss off, Min." Newt retorted, exasperated. "I was at least hoping for a bloody update before he faffed off to keep working with those other shanks!"
"Well then," Minho said sweetly, "I guess it's a good thing you two made a date for later then, isn't it? You can get your...update tonight. Just don't stay up too late updating each other, we do have a full day of running tomorrow before the party."
Newt groaned at the badly-veiled innuendo, and Minho's bawdy smirk.
"Y'know, some days I bloody hate you, Min."
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It was late evening when Newt walked up to the little cabin in the woods. He stood at the door, shuffling his feet a little before he lifted his hand to knock on the door. Before his knuckles could connect with the wood, a voice called out from inside.
"It's open!"
Newt huffed out a breath, pushing the door open and stepping inside.
"How do you do that?" He demanded.
Adrian chuckled, not even bothering to turn to the boy, just continuing to firmly lash a wooden frame together with his back to the door.
"You're not exactly subtle, kid. You tend to walk like a small elephant; I'd have to be deaf as a post to not hear you coming."
"And another thing," Newt griped moodily. "Why do you keep calling me kid? Kid this, kid that. You call Jeff 'man', you call the guys 'guy' or 'gentlemen', why am I 'kid'?!"
"Well seeing as you're, what, all of twelve years old -"
"I'm not twelve! I'm at least sixteen you bloody slinthead!"
"Ooooooh, well pardon me all to hell. In that case, you're practically ancient. I'll try to remember to show the vast depths of my respect. Kid. Now, give me a hand here, would you?"
Face flushed with irritation, Newt grumbled mutinously as he stepped over and grabbed the opposite end of the frame the man was working on. In one smooth motion they flipped the heavy wooden piece over, setting it down on four stubby little legs, and it became apparent all at once what it was meant to be.
"A bench? Why do you need a bench in here?"
"Not a bench," Adrian corrected, pointing at a large pile or dried grass and moss on the floor by his bed, and a handful of rectangular pieces of burlap, clear stitching on the sides.
"Grass? Planning on moving a couple of the pigs in here with you?"
Adrian sighed, wishing for patience. God save me from the attempted wit of teenage boys.
"No, you ass. This is why I'm trying to drill into your thick heads to think outside the box, look at what you have and find a new way to use it. Watch and see."
Under Newt's doubtful eyes, Adrian made short work of stuffing the burlap cases he had made with the grass and moss, slip stitching the openings and punching the stuffing into shape to form four largish cushions. Newt peppered him with questions about the work the gladers had accomplished that day and Adrian answered absently, focused on his project. He sewed a long strip of extra burlap, folded in half, to four places on the flat bottoms of each cushion. When he was finished, he efficiently fitted the cushions onto the frame; two along the seat and two along the back, tying them in place securely. Patting the seat of his new couch with satisfaction, he walked back to his bed and picked up the two extra feather pillows he'd made that morning before breakfast, tucking them into the corners of the couch to form armrests. He motioned Newt forward.
"Go ahead, try it out."
The boy flopped down onto the padded seat, making Adrian laugh as he screwed up his face in concentration and bounced in place a little, wiggling his behind on the cushion. Leaning back, he sighed deeply.
"Alright, I admit it. This is a pretty great bench."
"I'm glad you like it, especially since that'll be where you're sleeping the next time you crash here."
"You said the bed was big enough for the both of us. What's with the sudden change of mind?" Newt demanded, embarrassed to ask, and a little hurt by the sudden proclamation.
"Nah, the bed's plenty big. Nothing personal, kid." Adrian assured, thinking fast to try and find an explanation that wouldn't bruise the boy's feelings; he figured it wouldn't be terribly tactful to mention that he found it a bit awkward waking up with a sixteen year old boy snuggled up to him like a house cat. "I just really value my personal space; I don't sleep well with anyone else in my bed, it's not just you. Although, you DO snore."
"I don't snore!" Newt said indignantly, a small smile threatening to peek through.
"Like a thunder storm." Adrian confirmed, relieved that the potentially tense situation had been diffused. "It's a wonder the other guys haven't smothered you in your sleep yet. Anyway, trust me, we'll both be more comfortable this way."
"Yeah, okay, whatever." Newt said dismissively, waving off the teasing and platitudes with an eye roll and a smirk.
"I've made a couple of other changes since the last time you were here. Take a look around." Adrian invited, gesturing at the rest of the space before turning to clean up his tools and left over supplies.
Newt wandered, checking out the candle lit space freely as the man tidied up. He examined the new shutters at the windows, thin straight branches that had been secured to a frame which was in turn secured to the windows with tightly knotted twine. Newt opened and closed them a few times, admiring the ingenious use of rope to form working hinges. He looked over a new small wooden table that had appeared against the wall opposite the new couch, complete with three horizontal shelves for storage. He was just admiring a long, thin shelf that had been secured to the wall with pegs when he heard Adrian flop down on the bed, yawning hugely. He turned to the man, a little puzzled.
"How did you find the time to do all this in the last couple of days? You finished the office, met with Alby, did haircuts for everyone yesterday. You worked like a dog today, helping to get things ready for tomorrow. When you you have the time?"
"When you know what you're doing, things like this are small potatoes. They don't take much time to put together, once you have the supplies." Adrian explained modestly, then grimaced a little. "Although, getting up at the friggin' crack of dawn a couple days in a row doesn't hurt either."
He scooted down from his mostly reclined position until he lay flat on his back, sighing happily and closing his eyes to half mast. "Which reminds me; I'm done in, half asleep already. Tomorrow should be a full day for both of us. You're welcome to crash there on the couch or head back to your own bunk, but either way, I'm out."
"I'll stay." Newt said, just a tad too quickly, though Adrian didn't comment on the hasty reply. Newt got up and blew out the candles, feeling his way back to the couch in the utter darkness of the room. Laying back on the ample cushions, Newt easily made himself comfortable. It was a little strange to be here and not on the bed beside the man, but he told himself that having separate sleeping areas was better for both of them. And at least he wouldn't have to wake the man at first light, just because he himself had to get up to run. Rolling over and snuggling in, he felt a sudden surge of gratitude; when sleeping beside the boy wasn't working for him, it would have been far easier for Adrian to simply send Newt back to his own bed. Instead, he had spent the time and effort to build a whole other piece of furniture, so Newt didn't have to leave. Struck by the kindness of the gesture, Newt called softly into the dark.
"Hey Adrian?"
A sleepy grunt came from the back of the room. Newt said the words before he could change his mind.
"Thank you. For not telling me to go. For letting me stay. For making this bench so I CAN stay. Thank you."
"You're welcome." The man's voice slurred. "Now shut up and go to sleep."
"Yeah. Adrian?"
"For Christ's sake, what?"
"Goodnight."
Adrian just grunted, grabbing his pillow and pulling it fully over his head. Newt closed his eyes and started to drift off, a small smile on his face.
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The next day all but flew by; the runners ran blindly, filled with anticipation of the evening's event, and those in the glade rushed around frantically, working feverishly to finish all the tasks set to them by Alby and the keepers. Adrian spent most of the morning in the kitchen with Frypan, chopping and mixing and prepping a mountain of food for that evening, while constantly handing out sandwiches and snacks to the army of hungry boys rushing about. When Minho lead the runners back into the glade around mid-afternoon, cutting their work day short due more to the lack of attention from his runners than consideration for the night's festivities, the excited boys trouped back into the glad to find...silence. Looking around, the place was conspicuously deserted.
Glancing at each other nervously, the small group cautiously made their way towards the center of the glade. The fields, the sleeping areas, the dining area, all empty. Delicious smells were wafting out of the cook hut, something sweet and tangy, different than anything they had ever smelled before, but Frypan was no where to be found. Their unease rising, they started towards the far side of the glade, keeping close to each other and moving silently. After a few tense minutes of walking, they started to hear something coming from the direction of the stream; voices, raised and...happy. A smattering of laughter momentarily drowned out the talk. Rolling his eyes, Minho waved the others forward and proceeded towards the water, the tension draining out of his shoulders as he picked up the pace. When he made it to the small sandy bank, his jaw almost dropped at the sight before him.
Every boy left in the glade was currently naked, hooting and hollering, and splashing around in the river like a ten year old. Clothing was scattered all over the bank, as though they had literally exploded out of their garments in their haste to get in the water. Even Alby was in on the fun; Minho watched as their solemn, serious leader swamped an unsuspecting Jeff with a veritable tidal wave of a splash, laughing like a lunatic at the inevitable splash of retaliation that was aimed his way. His runners gave one delighted shout from beside him before sprinting towards the water, tugging their clothes off and tossing them aside as they splashed into the small river to a chorus of shouts and laughter from the rest of the gladers. Minho just shook his head.
"What the actual shuck?"
"I suggested Alby cut 'em loose early."
Minho turned toward the voice; Adrian was leaning against a tree, smoking a cigarette, his hair and body still glistening wet. When Minho cocked an eyebrow, Adrian just shrugged, looking out at the chaos and smiling a little.
"They've all been working like dogs. I figured they could use a little down time before the celebration. Plus, no offense, but a wash wouldn't kill them either. Two days of bustin' ass? The BO was outrageous."
Minho snorted, gesturing at the rambunctious actions in front of them.
"A wash? Look at those slintheads; their acting like little kids!"
Adrian's grin widened; he crushed out his cigarette on the trunk of the tree and waved towards the water. "And you're much too mature for that, eh Minho? What's the matter, think a little water's going to muss up your new do? Afraid you couldn't hold your own in a splash war?"
Even knowing he was being baited, Minho couldn't resist rising to the challenge. He methodically stripped off his clothes as the man waited, a gleam of victory in his eyes. They began wading in together, each eyeing the other speculatively. "What about you; why were you on the sidelines? Afraid one of us young bucks is going to take you down, old man?"
"I'd love to see you try, Minnie."
The man knew the move was coming, but made no attempt to dodge as Minho tackled him with one quick lunge, dunking them both with a humongous splash as the others cheered and jeered.
Author's note~ Next chapter; P-A-R-T-Why? Because we gotta!
~Ruby