Around two hours after my encounter with Minho in the pantry I was in the Bloodhouse. It was a nice place to chill out at – I mean if you don't count the smell of manure, sweaty animals and the irony scent of blood.

In order not to seem like a creep who gets lulled by cackle and the rhythmic sound of Winston's hatchet being implied into the wood of the cutting board while slicing I pretended to bath Bark.

I liked him. He was a quiet fellow who's biggest problem was whether he should sleep on his left or on his right side.

However, my biggest problem was now to figure out some punishment for Minho for leaving me un-done – a punishment fit for the crime of not-satisfying.

Unfortunately, my mind seemed to throw a tantrum and not cooperate since I couldn't come up with anything.

I massaged the shampoo into Bark's black fur more forcefully by disappointment then I picked up the buck of water I'd brought with me and poured it down onto the poor dog who had to suffer all my outbursts. He shook the water off his fur and sighed – I swear he sighed!

Probably because he already knew I wasn't done – I had washed him off three times already. He was cleaner than Frypan's precious chopper and I guess he smelled better, too.

The only thing saving him from yet another shower and thus the danger of balding was sounds of footsteps getting closer.

"Aye, you're bathin' the dog?"

Gally's arrogant, rough voice said and soon he was standing next to where I was squatting. I let out a sigh of annoyance and scratched the spot under Bark's ear.

"No. I'm watering him to see if he becomes a dinosaur."

Gally gave a snorting sound. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of humor."

I was sure he quoted someone because there was no way he could've come up with something like that.

"Yeah, said the stupid who didn't understand," I mumbled after he left, probably to find Winston since he was heading that way. I liked or at least tolerate most of the people because there was no reason to hate someone you're stuck with at a cell of stone and ivy. Still, I couldn't help but want to smash him in the face with a rock. Twice.

Maybe it's hard to believe but I was a peaceful person. It's just that he was the one who hated me instantly without ever making effort to get to know me. I didn't see the logic in that so I decided to hate him, too, logical or not.

I was right about to get another bucketful of water when Gally thundered by me, not even bothering to say something else (for which I was thankful) followed by Winston. He did speak.

"Hey, (Y/N), what are you still doin' here?"

I looked up at him with a perplexed expression. "Well, Winston, if ya want me to leave you'd just had to say nicely, don't need to go all rude on me…"

"No, I mean, what'cha doin' here, the Gathering will be in a minute!"

The incomprehension has gone to complete dumbfoldedness in less than a second.

Gally.

That shuck-face didn't tell me out of hatred.

Ooooooh, I'll definitely smash his face, then!

… Or not, because you're not a hormone-filled teenage boy who can't behave, my smarter half said. I sighed. She was right – or I was right… Whatever.

I quickly got up and jogged after that slinthead of a klunk running under the name of Gally and when I caught up to him, I slowed down to match his pace in a 'just for spite' manner.

I decided to go for the moral high ground and say something not-so-thorny.

"How nice of ya to spare me the fatigue of a Gathering by not lettin' me know about it."

Okay, so maybe it wasn't so un-thorny.

"Newt asked me to muster the Keepers. You know, the ones actually doin' some shit."

I froze in place as I realized what it was all about – the same thing over and over, of course.

See, I was the Keeper of the Bricknicks. Not because of my physical skills (I don't have such thing) but because apparently I've been taught some architecture-klunk before we got here. At least I knew what forces to take in consideration before building a lintel so it won't crack under the weight of a roof.

It was more of a honorary title since the Bricknicks worked under Gally's commands I just played my part when there was something to plan or calculate. Still, I was given all the privilege of a Keeper, including going to the Gatherings and deciding on a Glader's fate.

Gally, of course, didn't like that and said I wasn't a real Keeper. He said the same thing about Blaise, the shy and quiet, lanky boy who was the Keeper of the Sloppers. Minho said being the Keeper of the Sloppers was worse than being one.

…But I still occupy the moral high ground; I sighed in defeat as I dragged myself along the rest of the way and stepped into the room. Everyone was there already, sitting straight in their seats except for Alby, who was standing and leaning over the table. Where Nick used to stand…

He wasn't quite happy.

"Ya finally made it there?" he asked as he laid his eyes on me.

"I didn't find a mirror to check my make-up," I answered in a slightly sarcastic way which was more sarcastic than I usually. Gally seemed to get the worse out of me. Newt thought so, I guessed, as he face-palmed. Alby just rolled his eyes and motioned to me to sit down.

My seat was right next to Minho's.

"You feelin' good?" he asked with a smile so wide I was sure it hurt. Cheeky bastard, I've repeated for what seemed like a thousandth time that day.

And then it popped into my mind, fast and unexpected like a lightning strike.

A wicked grin disguised by a polite and angelic smile made its way to my lips.

"Not as much as I will."

Minho raised an eyebrow at that, the smug expression never leaving his features, but otherwise he didn't say a word about it. The way his nerves settled, leaving him so vulnerable to my 'attack' because he thought I couldn't possibly do anything made me happy and huffy at the same time.

"Now that you've all arrived," Alby started in his rough-tough leader-voice, "maybe we should start. I've asked Newt to get this Gathering together so we can organize everything before the new Greenbean gets here. I want everything to go smooth 'n steady. The first thing is to take a stock. We haven't done one since months…"

To be honest I was finished with paying attention the moment he mentioned 'stock'. There was nothing I would need and don't have already including lady-products and as I've mentioned above, the Bricknicks worked under Gally so I had nothing to do with that.

On the other hand, I did have something else to do.

'On the other hand'… I swear there was no pun intended when I put one of my hands to my lap (the other stayed on the table and I casually propped my chin on it) and after five seconds or so I slowly sneaked it on Minho's thigh.

He gave me a quick glance but did nothing else. He also touched my thigh when we were eating with the others so it wasn't such a surprise. His face was a mask of stone as he continued to listen to Alby.

I made a lazy movement with my forefinger, drawing a circle on Minho's thigh.

Still nothing.

I moved my hand so my palm was against his inner thigh.

Finally he made a sign he felt what I was doing even if it only meant giving me a questioning side-glance and another raised eyebrow. I gave him an angelic smile and blinked at him rapidly.

My hand squeezed his thigh before slowly inching higher, drumming on the fabric of his trousers and around his crotch.

Minho raised one of his hands resting atop the table and rubbed above his lip with his forefinger. He always did that when he was annoyed – I took it as a good sign.

"…the next is the Bloodhouse. Winston, I need you to count all the…"

Alby was still talking which made the whole stroking-under-the-table thing even more… risky.

I was anxious about what I was doing and bloody hell 'anxious' didn't even cover what I felt like when thinking about what I was about to do… So I just didn't think about it.

As if it was that easy…

My dilemma must've been written all over my face as I noticed Newt laying his warm brown eyes on me. He sent me an inquiring look but I just sucked in my lips and looked away.

Shuck, it was so much easier to imagine than do…

I continued to move my fingers above Minho's crotch, putting on just as much pressure so he could feel it – I wasn't sure he did.

"Stop it," he hissed in a low voice so no one heard it except for me.

Oh, so he did feel it!

Of course I didn't obey; in fact it just encouraged me to move my hand further up until I could brush my fingertips over the sensitive skin right above the hem of his pants.

I saw Minho gritting his teeth from the corner of my mouth as I continued to stare at Alby, pretending to be listening.

Fear mixed with excitement rushed through my veins as I sneaked two of my fingers under the fabric and toyed with his pubic hair.

Minho quickly grabbed my wrist, holding it tightly as he looked straight into my eyes – his spellbinding chocolate-colored eyes were now pretty much dark, like, pitch-dark from lust.

"Stop it," he repeated in a hoarse voice. I didn't know whether I should be embarrassed because of what I did or proud because of what I did.

"Why do I see you two not payin' attention?" Alby's voice made me wince.

"Because you have the eyes of an eagle," Minho answered right away without batting an eyelid. Alby though about striking back but eventually he just sighed and waved, moving on with the tasks.

As Minho turned back he let go of my wrist. I didn't know if it was out of forgetfulness (I doubted this option had any potential), smug thinking I wouldn't try it again or in fact he enjoyed it.

Whichever it was, when I switched to a more straight-forward method and grabbed his crotch, Minho let out a grunt. He tried to cover it with coughing but it was a grunt.

"You wanna say something, Minho?" Newt questioned, his gaze jumping back and forth between me and Minho. He knew something – the thought heated up my cheeks and I pulled back my hand for a second before putting it back. He couldn't possibly see anything – the tabletop was simply too high and thus it covered my hands.

"Yeah, I'll do the stock now, gimme the paper." I must confess that he was one hell of an emergency-excuser.

Alby raised an eyebrow at his answer. "You can do it?"

"Sure. All we need is in my head," he said while he take the offered paper and pen from Newt.

And all you need is in my hand, I thought somewhat cheerfully as I squeezed him once again. He may had winced but I wasn't so sure – the way the pen flew against the paper was sure.

Duh, it's hard to be hilarious when no one is listening.

Now, with both of his hands occupied, I've finally found the perfect moment to skip step two and start step three.

I unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants before slipping my hand over the dark hair-triangle disappearing under his underwear. Alby's voice covered the sound of Minho's zip moving down.

Minho glanced at me but tried not to look even as I palmed him through his underwear. He inhaled sharply and the muscles of his arms tensed when I started stroking. I could feel him hardening under my touch.

Hell, it was one strange situation – I've done this and that to Minho in the past months since we've first made love and yes, sometimes we got interrupted and thus some Gladers has seen us in very intimate positions but doing it directly and on total intent was… strange. Dirty. Embarrassing, even – and surprisingly thrilling.

My toes curled in excitement as Minho's lips parted when I suddenly slipped my hand under the last of his clothing separating our skins and took his cock in my palm.

Minho shifted in his seat a bit but it was still one of the nervous-est reactions I've ever seen from him. I started stroking his impressive length, using the pre-cum leaking from the tip.

Minho closed his eyes for a second but continued writing – I guess he went from trying to prevent my actions to simply let it all slim and just leave it to me.

A proud half-smile made its way to my lips as I watched him breathe more and more heavily through his nose by every single stroke. He hummed, which could've looked like he was thinking.

His face looked so cute and soft I wanted to kiss him – the urge was so hard I actually leaned in and placed a sweet little kiss on his cheek despite all the others in the room.

It didn't go unnoticed by Gally, of course.

"Don't you wanna get a room or something?" he asked, anger vibrating in his small eyes. My hands stopped, much to Minho's displeasure.

"What's your problem now, Gally?" Newt sighed; he probably didn't see what happened.

"What's my problem?! They are making out right at the Gathering, that's my problem! See? I told you it's a klunk idea to invite her, too! She's too much of a distraction and…"

"Please, just shut the shuck up," Minho growled angrily at him. I didn't know whether the reason for his anger was the lack of the movement of my hand or the fact Gally was belittling me.

"Minho," Newt called his name on a warning basis.

"What?" the Keeper of the Runners replied with his eyebrows knitted together furiously. "I was polite. I said 'please' before 'shut the shuck up'."

Gally's face reddened as rage boiled up inside him – Minho's face was red as well but it was more due the fact I started stroking him again and his words just got caught up in his mouth.

"Okay, I guess the Gathering is over," Alby sighed tiredly and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Get the hell up and go back to work. And you two," he motioned toward Minho and Gally who kept staring at each other with death-glances," don't even think about gettin' into a fight. I won't care which one started it, y'all get to spend the rest of the day in the Slammer, good that?"

"Good that." Though he agreed, Gally's gaze promised to good as he left the room with an angry growl.

Slowly all of the Keepers gone back to work until it was just Newt, Alby, Minho and me.

"Ya'll finish that?" Newt motioned toward the paper Minho was supposed to write the stock at. It was mostly empty with a few words scribbled down in an unreadable way.

"Mmm, yeah." Even Alby realized the way Minho's voice got all sensitive over a stock was not right but he didn't say a word. What could've he done? Ask Minho if he was aroused by lists in front of her girlfriend or what?

Minho's cock twitched in my hand and I knew he was close – and the time has come.

The next to stand up was me – I pulled my hand out of Minho's pants and fitted my shirt. Minho looked up at me with such wide eyes they weren't even almond-shaped anymore.

"Where are ya going?"

"Out," I answered simply before leaning over him, planting a quick peck on his lips. I looked in his eyes with mischief and whispered so none of the other boys could hear me: "That should teach you not to tease me."

His face fell. He realized what I was doing the moment I've quoted him and he just became the textbook example of spoof.

"Good luck!" With that last, loud dagger-thrust I walked out of the door.

What I just did wasn't easy – not only for Minho but for me, neither. Anxiety, embarrassment and the weight of conscience on my shoulder was things making the implementation of my counterattack hard.

But I did it.

I came over my fears and left Minho agape and turned on and unsatisfied like a boss.

I knew that after he somehow took care of himself he'd come and crush it on me but…

This was war, after all.

I'm so sorry it sucks! *cries really hard* I've tried my best and in my mind it was all good and nice and then I wrote it down and it was messy… I'll rewrite it one day, I guess :/ Anyway, I hope it wasn't such a big disappointment for you, guys!