"Oi, sis', what's goin' on with both you and Minho being bitter?" Newt asked once I've departed from Chuck (agreeing periods are horrible) and went to have a nap at one of the benches. "You two have broke up or what?"

"No, of course not," I sighed heavily, throwing my exhausted body on the wood. When I've laid down I lifted up my leg so it was bent and my foot was flat against the surface, making some place for Newt who immediately sat down. "I'm tired and shocked because I just had The Talk with Chuck, and Minho's sexually frustrated because he has a day off and I have no time to, ya know, get him off."

Usually, I wouldn't say a word related to sex in front of Newt, let alone referring to doing things to Minho I don't have to get naked for. But, as I've mentioned earlier, this day wasn't one of those usual days.

"Good, I wasn't feelin' like breakin' the bloody shank's nose for breakin' your bloody heart," Newt muttered absent-mindedly before actually catching up to the conversation. "Wait, what kind of 'talk' did you have with Chuck?"

I let yet another heavy sigh escape my lips before sitting up. I looked into Newt's eyes – they were full of confusion and curiosity. "The sex talk, Newt, the sex talk. Oh, don't be like that!" I rolled my eyes when his eyes widened at my words. "Ya know ya had one, too, when you were younger!"

Newt grimaced just like Chuck did when I explained the actual penetrating part of sex to him. "Yeah, no shit, I'm sure I've had. Luckily enough, I can't remember the lovin' thing except for the knowledge I got. The only lost memory I'm grateful for."

I was about to say something about boys being pathetically childish but I decided to end the conversation with a wave of my hand.

"Where are you goin'?" Newt asked when I jolted up and started to walk away.

"I have to get back to the kitchen." Without further questions he got up and closed up to me.

Suddenly a glimpse of olive skin caught my attention. When I turned around I had to gulp really hard in order to swallow my frustrated groan.

Minho was standing about twenty foot ahead of us and he had clearly just finished working out. Of course we didn't have machines like in a gym or anything but I don't know what else should I call that Minho ran around the Glade carrying heavy stuff so he wasn't feeling like he did nothing on a break-day.

He was stretching – he pulled his elbow above and behind his head with his other hand – and I couldn't help but bit in my lips as I watched his lean and fierce and bloody desirable muscles flex and move and strain and bloody shucking hell!

Minho looked at me from the corner of his eyes, the angle making his oh-so-handsome face look even more attractive. Even from this far I saw a flash of boldness in his alluring almond-shaped eyes. He knew I found it mesmerizing – both the side-glance and the muscled stretching part – and he enjoyed teasing me. He grinned at me when he caught me staring, self-satisfied.

The cheeky bastard.

I only realized that I was staring bluntly and frowned when Newt snapped his fingers in front of my eyes. "I've lost ya, yeah?"

"No… No. No, I'm here with ya," I shook my head swiftly and forced myself to look away from Minho. I won't lie: it was hard. "You were sayin'…?"

"I wasn't bloody talkin'," he laughed unbelievingly. I let out a long, lazy breath. After a quick glance back at Minho (he was still looking at me smugly) I started walking again. Once I got my head off of the daydreams woken up by Minho's goddamn body I noticed Newt was limping even harder than he usually did.

"Are ya alright?"

Newt knitted his eyebrows together. "Sure, why wouldn't eye? It's not like we're stuck in buggin' concrete-prison…"

I ignored his remark. "Your limp…"

The way his face hardened at the word was heart-stabbing visible.

There was an unspoken arrangement between us stating we never talk about that. The limp. Newt's attempted suicide… That was the only case we've argued, like, really argued and I preferred not to even think about that. I lowered my head in shame.

"Sorry. I know we… I just… It's worse now, isn't it?"

He looked away and shrugged. "A bit. Clint said maybe it's some psychosomatic klunk goin' on upstairs," he tapped his temple with his forefinger.

We walked in silence for a few moments.

"Clint knows the word 'psychosomatic' exists?"

"Apparently."

I never would've guessed. True, for the first few weeks he didn't even talk so we thought he was mute or something. One may never know what to expect with him.

"So you're so stressed because of all the things foisted off on ya it effects ya physically by your limp?"

"Yeah, something like that. But it could've been worse. I mean, Nick died now, after two years – can you imagine how chaotic this all would be had he died before establishing order?"

I shivered at the thought of the old, dark days – when we weren't a family, a society tied together by mutual respect and privities but a bunch of frightened teenagers. Nick was the one who organized all we were living in at the moment. I wasn't friends with him because we simply didn't have the same interests or the same sense of humor. Still he was a decent guy and doubtlessly a successful leader. His lack of presence was downright conspicuous but I thought Alby and Newt were doing a pretty good job navigating the Glade.

"Yup, it could've been worse," I agreed hastily, eager to find some other subject. My gaze fell on Gally. The Keepr of the Builders slept with his back to a trunk, mouth wide open as he snorted loudly. "Hey, do ya wanna bet on how many biscuits can I put in Gally's mouth?"

For the record: I was at twelve exactly and still counting when he started to wake up so we had to run away.

# # #

"It's so hot in there my sweat started sweating," the masculine voice rang up from behind me. Minho was standing in the kitchen's door, fanning himself with the flickering of his palm. Once again I was alone in the kitchen. The soup was ready to be served at dinner (it was now steaming on the stove) and I was just finishing cleaning the kitchen counter when he popped up, leaning against the doorway.

"Yeah… When did you get so hot?" I asked mockingly and fluttered my shirt while pretending to be melted away by him with a dreamy smile on my lips. "If I said I wanted to check out your ass, would you turn around and walk away?"

Minho laughed deeply and uproariously before closing the distance between our bodies with two long steps. "You've already checked my ass out. Remember? When you were with Newt? You nearly drooled."

"I didn't!" I protested weakly. It was just a matter of time for me to drool, to be honest. I knew it, he knew it.

"Well, I could agree with you but then we would both be wrong."

…and clearly he was a prick enough to point it out.

I rolled my eyes and turned around when he hugged me from behind – this time I was expecting it thus I didn't jump in surprise. Instead I just gave up the fight against my hormones and blended into his touch, my arms sneaking around his. "You're sweating like hell. Don't ya want to let me perish in my own liquids?"

"Do you want me to let you perish in your own liquids?"

I turned my head with a thinking expression. "…Nope," I said finally, placing a quick peck on his jaw before turning back.

Minho, however, was not entirely satisfied with just that so he kissed my hair, my earlobe, my neck and under my jaw, chuckling lightly when I gasped at the contact.

I felt a jolt of want when he kissed that special spot on my neck and exhaled sharply. "Minho, we really shouldn't do it right here… Frypan can come in any second…"

"So what? He already knows you're mine."

I frowned at his statement huffily. "'You're mine'? This bullshit again? What are ya, a caveman? I'm no o– ah!" My retort was cut short by my own surprised shout as Minho abruptly lifted me by the waist and hung my body over his shoulder. My head moved unpleasantly up and down as he started to walk. I couldn't quite identify where he was heading to. "What the shuck are ya doin', Minho?!"

"Caveman carry prey," he said in a sing-song tone. I could imagine his Cheshire cat-like grin simply by his voice.

The 'carrying' didn't take too long – it was a matter of a few moments and I was sat atop a box. Looking around I realized we were in the pantry, hidden behind wooden and iron boxes with a pile of apples right beside me.

Minho was in front of me and stood between my legs in no time, running his fingers up and down from my knees to the middle of my thighs, a wicked smile on his lips. I didn't know if it was a play of lights in the semidarkness of the room but I swear I saw his eyes twinkle with some kind of mischief… Impishness, even.

"What d'ya have in mind?" My voice was unsure but sounded rather adventure-ready. He let one of his hands wander on the inner side of my thigh, awakening the first dull throb in my crouch.

"Enjoying my break-day. The view is rather… Pleasing."

The way the word 'pleasing' rolled off his tongue had a touch of promise. I swallowed hard just like when I saw him stretching – I had naughty images about him in my head since then and now they seemed to intensify with him being so close and implying such things.

I wanted to say something, anything – it was the moment I should've used for something witty or at least funny but the glimmer of his eyes (I started to guess it was real, not just my imagination) nipped any of my attempt to speak in the bud.

"Come here," he said in a soft, silky voice, grabbing my knee to urge me closer. It wasn't a command at all and still I felt like I can't resist. I didn't even want to, to be honest.

As soon as I was directly in front of him, our lower parts pressing against each other's, he smashed his lips against mine. The first kiss was slightly rough and fast – he moved against me rather firmly, taking my bottom lip between his teeth and sucking on it. I moaned at the dizzy feeling. He used the chance to slide his tongue between my lips, making the second kiss much more passionate and loving. His tongue stroked mine in a confirmed yet teasing way and as he hummed into my mouth in satisfaction it sent sweet vibrations through my spine.

I wrapped one of my arms around his neck, playing with his hair as I placed my other hand on his bare chest, caressing the surprisingly smooth and soft skin right above his heart.

Once we departed due need to breath he moved his left hand to my face and stroked my cheek with his hard fingertips. Somewhere during the kiss I closed my eyes so I opened them now, looking directly into his beautiful, chocolate-colored eyes now pitch-dark with lust and licked my bottom lick temptingly.

"You're beautiful."

His voice embraced me like a steam of hot, creamy chocolate and yet I couldn't help but giggle at his sentimental statement. He was only saying things like that when he was 'drunk' like in the morning – he was even more sober than then so I found the situation strange.

"Beautiful? Oh, so now you're really flirting?" I rolled my eyes and tried to sound smart which was hard as shuck considering eighty percent of my brain capacity was tossing me into an abyss of desire just because how his chest rose with every breath he took. "Seriously, what is it you want? If you're still horny and want me to-…"

"I don't want you to do anything," he cut in calmly. "Except for cooperating and easing up."

I frowned as I tried to process what he just said. It seemed to amuse him as he chuckled again and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

"I'm gonna make you feel good, love."

With that and a last, quick kiss placed on my lips he went on his knees and used his hands to spread my legs even faster. He quickly got rid of my pants, loosing the belt and lifting me up as he pulled it down until it was somewhere in the corner.

"What are ya – oh! Oh…" The frown was soon replaced by closed eyes and moaning as I felt him kiss along the inside of my thigh. When he bit on the skin there I jumped slightly, not quite accustomed to this kind of sensation. You see, doesn't matter how many times I've made love with him I've never really needed him to go down on me. Usually it was because I liked it better when I got to go down on him and enjoyed how I could make him a moaning mess with just a few kisses here and there.

But also there was that unpleasant feeling in my chest that I didn't know what to expect or what I should do and all in all, I was just anxious.

I still felt anxious but when I felt his hot breath reaching my core even through my underwear all of that bullshit was gone and all I could do was moaning as quietly as I could manage to do.

He took his time, nibbling and pecking all along both of my thighs before he even lifted his hand and stroked me through my panties. I whimpered at the feeling and though I couldn't see his face just his hair, I was sure he was smirking. The bloody bastard.

One of my hands grabbed at the edge of the box I was sitting on and the other went up to my mouth, covering it – we were in the pantry, for God's sake! The chance someone could've walked in on us was hanging in the air heavily, making my heart beat so fast I was afraid it will eventually drive itself into exhaustion.

Of course since there was no lock on any of the door in the Glade there were several times when other Gladers saw the two of us – during making out or being half-naked or right in the middle of action. Even Newt had done this (I guess he was the one who did it the most of the time searching for me) but that was different. Right now with Minho's head between my legs I just felt… Vulnerable. Improper. Dirty.

Point is: I didn't want to higher the chance of someone seeing us with loud moans or shouting which I did sometimes in the heat of passion when I couldn't control myself.

"You're holding yourself back," Minho stated as he straightened himself and stroked the side of my neck with his nose, his experienced fingers circling right outside my folds. "I don't like it."

"Too bad I'm the one controlling whether I moan or not," I stroke back, making him lean up. He looked all over my face for a minute, taking in the sight of me. I guess I must've been all flushed by then, breathing heavily through my nose.

His lips crashed against mine in a rough and wet kiss. He sucked on my bottom lip again before leaning away, leaving my lips numb and swollen from his.

"Once again I can't agree with you," he whispered in a husky voice before hooking his finger on the top of my underwear, tucking in down and throwing it away. It felt really strange to be fully clothed on top while in nothing at the bottom. A flow of cold air hit my now throbbing center before Minho had dropped on his knees and yanked me so close to him I didn't only feel his hot breath but also his nose.

"Oh my – shuck, Minho!" I cried out unintentionally when he lazily licked along my wet folds, nuzzling his nose to my clit. It was something I've never felt before – it was different from my soft fingers and Minho's rough, calloused ones and it was a different kind of sensation than what I felt when he'd stroke along there with his cock right before entering me.

It was hot and soft and gentle and passionate and oh so good!

I tangled my fingers into his soft hair as he started to move his tongue up and down and also sideways, never loosing contact, his strong hands massaging my thighs. I felt a bliss overcome me as he darted his tongue so he pushed inside of me.

It was making me mad. He was making me mad.

By now I was whimpering and melting at Minho's touch and he, of course, wasn't one to let something like that slim.

"You're so sweet," he hummed right into my flesh, making me moan at the vibrations it caused in my body. "Both in taste and in your whimpers, Ms 'I'm-not-gonna-moan'."

"Just shut up," I growled impatiently and tugged at a strand of his hair. He laughed but soon went back to licking and gently nibbling at my folds.

It didn't take me too long to feel the oh-so-familiar waves of lust running through my whole being and dashing over my head. My vision went more and more blur with every move of Minho's tongue and lips. When the bastard kissed, my toes curled as I leaned my head back – I was very, very close to my climax.

My breaths came out into louder and louder moans of his name and…

…and suddenly the hot wetness of his mouth was nowhere to be found. I was practically laying flat on the box so I had to lean on my elbows to see what the hell happened.

Minho was standing right next to the door with a devilish grin on his lips.

"That should teach you not to tease me," he stated in a cheery and at the same time quizzical voice. He cracked the door open and winked at me. "Good luck!"

With that being said, he left, shutting the door behind him.

My crouch was throbbing with the heat of insufferable passion and need and that bastard had just left me like that.

Left.

Me.

Just like that.

The bastard!

I let out a frustrated and loud growl-like scream before lying back hardly with a loud 'thump'.

I laid there for a few moments before a knock on the door made me jump.

"Hey, shankie, you're alright in there?" Frypan's voice made my eyes widen in shock. I quickly jumped off the box and went to search for my clothes.

"Yeah, sure! I just, uh… Kicked into one of these bloody boxes. I'll be out in no time!" I shouted back so Frypan would be able to hear me. My voice was shaky which made me furious.

Then I was more than furious when I found out Minho has taken my panties with him as a punishment or something – while I yanked myself into my pants, bouncing up and down stupidly and the fabric rubbing my aching womanhood I knew for sure.

The bloody shuckface would have to pay for this.

This is war.

Hey!

So here it is. To be honest oral is not something I'm quite familiar with so there may be some idiotic klunk there... Still, I hope you've enjoyed this silly thingy and if you did, please, make sure to let me now and leave a comment! I'm always sooo happy when I get a notification saying 'Review:' ...:)