Dislciamer: Maze Runner (c) James Dashner

Excuse any grammatical/spelling errors.

The TMR fandom is pretty dead on this website huh? Oh well, I'll still share it on here and AO3.

Part II

There wasn't much to unpack in terms of furniture and boxes. The real struggle came from sorting out their clothes and the amount of closet space they were given. Newt claimed the dresser as his own, his excusing being he had gotten their first. He meticulously folded his clothes into nice little squares that would make any clothing store associate jealous and placed them gingerly into the drawer.

Thomas set up a few collapsible cubicles on each side of the closet, a part of him disappointed with having to share with Minho of all people. He could be neat all he wanted, but he couldn't fool himself. Their closet would be a war zone in only a few weeks' time, he was sure.

By the time he was done setting up the closet and had most of his clothes hanging, Newt was already sorting out Minho's clothes in categories: sleepwear, daywear, socks and tighty whities. The brunet couldn't help but snicker.

He always knew his boyfriend was a neat freak. It wasn't quite on the level of being unbearable, at least he hoped it wouldn't be, but he never knew it extended to their own items too.

"He's just going to mess it up, you know."

Newt shrugged. He carefully folded white briefs into the underwear pile. "It keeps me calm."

Thomas frowned, concerned again. "What are you nervous about, Newt?"

The new school year had barely even started. What could already have gotten the blond boy worried so soon?

"Nothin' really," he muttered. He folded another pair of boxers and set them down on top of another pile. "Mostly thinking about what you said earlier. Or what you didn't say." Newt set the last piece of clothing down and turned to Thomas, eyes swimming in worry. "We never got a chance to talk about it during the summer—what with you and Minho helping me get my life back together after the hospital—and then there was preparing for school again, but now there's nothing keeping us distracted. I just wanted to let you know, if you have a problem Tommy, you can always talk to me about it. And I mean, a problem with us, this relationship. You, me and Minho. It's new to you, hell, it's new to us, but we care about you and we want you to be happy. So if there's anything, don't be afraid to ask." Newt's expression was hopeful and pleading. Thomas didn't have the heart to open his mouth.

He didn't have a problem. Not truly. He only had questions, a lot of them, but he felt stupid thinking about it let alone asking them.

Thomas shook his head. He gave Newt an appreciative smile and said, "Thanks for the offer Newt, but I'll be alright. You guys just keep doing what you normally do. If something bothers me, I'll let you know."

Newt didn't seem satisfied with that response. He appeared to want to fight it and Thomas would let him, but to his surprise, Newt dropped the subject. He turned back to the newly folded clothes and set out to put them away on Minho's behalf, even if that meant some of his daywear clothes had to be unfolded for the hanger.

Thomas chose to set up their game system in the meanwhile.

WCKD U. was a beautiful place when you got over the towering sterile white building and the golden plated lettering adorned as a beacon on the highest building. It was a surprisingly large campus despite the small gathering of students that were smart enough or rich enough to get in, yet it was breathtaking all the same.

Thomas didn't care too much for the place.

It'd been Newt who wanted so desperately to come here. He and Minho had merely followed for the blond.

With their dorm set up for the semester—and Newt busying himself with grabbing their schedules—Thomas found himself wandering the campus in boredom. He saw a few familiar faces along the way. Teresa Agnes from his literature class last semester, as well as long lost childhood friend, waved as she and Rachel, her roommate he supposed, carried a box up the stairs to their two-person dorm.

He caught sight of Ben, a former track member he had met through Minho, speaking with Gally, an asshole Thomas had hoped flunked out last semester. (He didn't of course, because Thomas wasn't that lucky.) They paid him no mind and Thomas was perfectly fine with that. He liked Ben, didn't have a problem with the guy, but Gally was a thorn on his side and the worst rival he had the displeasure of knowing. They became rivals the moment they bumped heads in science last autumn and ever since then, they'd done nothing but discreetly sabotage each other in the hopes of gaining the better hand. (Newt didn't approve, but Minho thought it was the funniest thing he had ever seen.)

He hoped he didn't have another class with Gally this semester. Seeing him again after two semesters in a row was enough to last him a lifetime.

He made his way past the boys, internally hoping neither one of them would acknowledge him. No such luck. Gally spared him a glance, barely a flicker of contact—Thomas thought he might have imagined it—but the older boy resumed his conversation with Ben as though Thomas didn't even exist.

How wonderful.

He continued on his way, straining his ears as he went. He wouldn't put it past Gally to come after him once Ben was out of sight. The further along he went, the less he heard. Gally must not have cared enough today. Too early in the semester then? He wasn't aware they had a set time for the rivalry to begin. Huh.

He could deal with that.

On his walk, he caught sight of Alby and Aris. He waved to Sonya and even helped Harriett carry her bags up the stairs into their building. He didn't linger too long on familiar faces, didn't really feel inclined to talk to anyone that wasn't Newt or Minho.

He stopped in front of the gates to the track pit and peaked down the slope to catch sight of the members lounging around in their daywear clothes as Coach Jorge spoke to the boys and girls, his hands animated in a wild display of something and his mouth moving a mile a minute. Thomas was too far to hear what he had to say, but he imagined it must have been words of encouragement, reminders to eat healthy and the punishment they would receive if any of them got sick before the tournaments started.

He caught sight of Minho lounging casually on the sidelines, head drawn back in a laugh with another teammate. He looked so relaxed in that environment, like the world couldn't get to him. And maybe it couldn't. Minho had always said running was his way of escaping the troubles of the real world.

Newt cleaned.

Minho ran.

Thomas? Well, he brooded.

The group below began to move. Thomas snapped out of his thoughts in time to catch the runners head his way. He stepped aside as the gate opened and smiled at the familiar and unfamiliar faces that greeted him. Minho wrapped an arm around his shoulder before he could react and planted a quick yet tender kiss against his temple. Heat seared across his neck and cheeks. He ducked, embarrassed, and hoped none of the others had seen what Minho had done. The athlete snickered. He held him close despite Thomas's embarrassment.

"Did you make up your mind yet?" He asked, steering Thomas away from the pit. He waved to a couple of his friends as they walked.

"What?"

Minho rolled his eyes. "About tonight, shuck face. Did you already forget?"

The heat intensified. He fidgeted.

"Uh… I'm… still thinking." He muttered. "But, um, Newt and I finished with the dorm after you abandoned us." He hoped Minho wouldn't see the change of topic. He didn't want to chance looking up at him just to know.

He heard the subtle exhale; could almost feel the disappointment radiating from the track captain. It made the shame bubble again and his face burn red. He felt guilty. He didn't want to disappoint Minho.

"I didn't abandon you guys, I had track stuff. I'm captain of the team slinthead, I've got a responsibility to my teammates, ya know."

His tone was playful despite the disappointment. It made Thomas feel all the more guilty.

"Yeah, yeah," He tried to grin. "That's just an excuse for you to get out of physical labor."

Minho's laugh came as a deep chortle. He pulled Thomas in close, arms wrapped around his smaller frame. Heat radiated from his skin again, his mind spiraling into a panic at the idea of how they must look like in the public eye. He wiggled against Minho's grip, but that only made the athlete hug him tighter, another laugh rumbling his chest. He buried his nose into the crook between Thomas's neck and shoulder and planted another soft kiss against the flesh.

"Hey," He murmured, "If you're not comfortable with sex tonight, we can always do something a little lighter."

"You guys have been doing it without me for a year. Don't change on my account."

Minho pulled away then, dark eyes peering into his.

"You're not getting this at all."

Thomas frowned. He felt like an idiot again and he hated it. Minho tipped his chin upwards, having broken their eye contact in his moment of self-loathing.

"Come on Thomas, use that shucking brain of yours. You're our best friend and now our boyfriend. I get that's probably shucking weird for you, being in a relationship like this, but it only means Newt and I care for you deeper than most people would. So yeah, things are gonna change for us. It's not going to be just me and Newt anymore, but to be honest, it never really was. It was always the three of us. Newt wants you. I want you. We love you. We care for you. So tell me truthfully right now, no vague answers. No lies. Do you want to do something with us tonight?"

Thomas hesitated.

Sex wasn't the issue. He might not have had it, but he understood the mechanics behind it and the necessity for it. He was sure sex with a guy was no different than sex with a girl, give or take a few things. It was just… Minho and Newt were his best friends since freshman year in high school. Not just that, he wasn't comfortable with the idea of having one of them watching. How were they all going to get involved? Wasn't there a thing about tops and bottoms? Would they have to take turns? Wouldn't someone get left out if they didn't want to bottom? And what about condoms? They'd need to wear some, wouldn't they? Should he tell them he was allergic to certain brands? And the lube? Oh god, he was allergic to certain lube brands too!

Shit. Why didn't he think about doing research beforehand?!

Minho sighed. The silence between them disconcerting.

"Like I said, we can start off slow."

Thomas snapped out of his thoughts. "H-how?" He felt stupid again asking such a dumb question, Minho seemed thoughtful, almond shaped dark eyes staring off into the distance.

"Hmm, I'm thinking we can start off with hand jobs, maybe a BJ if anyone's adventurous. Does that sound better?"

"I can do that." He nodded.

"Good that," Minho grinned. He planted a chaste kiss against Thomas lips before the boy could protest and grabbed his hand. "Let's go tell Newt the news."

Please review, favorite or alert if you like the story!

Otherwise you'll miss the updates. Kek.