A/N: Thank you so much for the lovely feedback of chapter 1! This is my first ever chaptered fic and I appreciate every single word I receive from my readers. Please let me know what you think!

Let's continue with chapter 2, then. Enjoy!

You're in my veins

And I cannot get you out

Newt jumped out of his bed, his hands still shaking. He walked over to the other side of the room and rummaged through the small chest of drawers which held most of his wardrobe. Over the years it hadn't grown much but it was all he needed, anyway. He snatched a clean pair of underwear, sand-coloured trousers and a white tank top from the bottom drawer and changed, putting on his shoes right after.

It was still early, which Newt preferred as he gathered his ruined pants and some other pieces of his dirty clothing from the drawers. Not too many eager eyes would be looking after his activities in the laundry room. He hugged the messy heap of clothes against his chest and headed for the door.

Just as he was twisting the handle to open the door, someone from the other side of it pushed it wide open. Startled, Newt yelped and stepped back with wide eyes.

Alby, his hand still on the door knob, looked about as taken aback as Newt. The dark-skinned boy opened and closed his mouth a few times. Then he straightened and cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck absently.

Newt got himself together quicker. "Alby, why were you creeping behind my bloody door like that?"

Alby looked a bit embarrassed for a second before a slight smile spread over his face.

"Well, I was just gonna come and see if you're already awake. It's been busy last couple of days and I have barely seen you these days.." Alby's gaze lowered to the clothes Newt was holding close. "What were you planning to do with those, huh?"

Newt scowled, puffing air out of his lungs and wishing the slight blush that still coloured his cheeks wouldn't stood out too noticeably. "What does it bloody look like?" Newt muttered, a bit annoyed. "Man's gotta wash his clothes from time to time. Gonna carry these to the laundry and get the washing over with."

Alby took a step closer, lowering his hand to rest on Newt's arm, squeezing it. "I could take care of those for you, ya know. That way we could have the time to start this day off quite pleasantly, don't you think?" Alby whispered suggestively, looking Newt in the eyes.

Newt shivered but not out of pleasure. Somehow Alby's touch felt cold, possessive. Newt frowned and took a step back, letting Alby's hand hover alone in the air for a while before the boy pulled it back, a look of hurt flashing across his features quickly before disappearing.

"Is something wrong, Newt?" Alby asked, an odd expression on his face.

Newt swallowed quickly, adjusting the clothes better in his lap. He shook his head slightly, forcing a smile on his lips that he hoped looked at least half as reassuring as he intended.

"Sure, Alby, I'm as good as ever. It's just.. lots to do today. And you know I can't stand anyone else taking care of my own things," Newt pointed out. "I'll catch up later with ya, deal?"

The older boy looked at him with searching eyes but in the end seemed to give up. He nodded, stepped aside and let Newt hurry past him. As the slightly limping boy scurried down the stairs, Alby couldn't help but look after him, wondering what was going on in that blonde head of his.

*.*.*

Newt's head truly was a mess. The boy crouched beside a huge bucket full of soap and water, kneading his dirty clothing furiously with his hands. He felt mortified that Alby had almost walked in on him like that. He knew the boy had only meant good as usual. They had both truly been busy lately and it felt like forever since they had spent some time together.

Something had changed after the newest Greenie had arrived. Thomas wasn't like those other winy, lost and scared Newbies. He wasn't anything like Newt had been during his first days in the Glade. It had taken a very long time before Newt had felt like he could trust a soul in there. He had isolated himself, crept in the shadows, hadn't talked to anyone and kept everyone away. He still got shivers remembering those dark, lonely few weeks when he had cried himself to sleep, hiding in the woods.

Newt had grown so much since those days. Alby had been the first person in the Glade to get close enough to coax him out of his shell, little by little. Slowly Newt had started to find himself again, to create bonds with the Gladers and start to think of them as a family of sort. There were still parts of him that he would never show to anybody, parts that he would protect from everyone. He didn't put his trust on people blindly. In fact, he considered very few people in the Glade close enough to call them his friends. He had grown to be a person that the others looked up to, a steady rock the other Gladers could seek support from and trust him to stay calm and keep things in order no matter what happened. But his heart was one thing he didn't open up to just anyone.

Thomas wasn't anything like Newt had been in his situation. During his first day, yes, Thomas had been lost, freaking out and scared. But just overnight the boy's whole attitude had changed. He had started to question things more than almost any other Greenie Newt had crossed paths with. His curiosity, his thirst to just know things was insatiable. He was actively putting his mind to work, to doubt, to figure things out, to make sense of everything. He was already one of the smartest and brightest minds Newt had ever met. Thomas was brave and loyal, witty and independent. He worked hard no matter what they made him do; he wanted to prove himself constantly even if the job itself would be the lowest on his list of how to spend his time. But by no means was Thomas submissive. He had extremely strong opinions and he would not be easily swayed when he got his mind on something. But still he wasn't-

The unmistakable sound of shower spray hitting the stone tiles pierced Newt's ears, cutting his wandering thoughts abruptly. Newt shook his head, blinking his eyes back to focus. How long had he stayed like this, just staring into nothingness, oblivious to the world around him? His hands had stopped their movements, the water feeling cold against his skin.

Newt straightened and decided to make a quick job with the rest of the washing. He had waisted enough bloody time. He felt his ears burn as he wondered how easily his mind always slipped back to Thomas these days.

He hurried to change the dirty water and rinsed the washed clothes. He hoped to clear out of the place before the unidentified, poor Glader would burst out naked from the showers. He surely didn't need that image glued to the back of his eyelids.

Right then a new voice drifted from the showers, freezing Newt to the spot. His eyes widened from shock as the somewhat muffled sounds of human moans broke the steady sound of spraying water. There was no mistaking what kind of activity caused those low groans that filled Newt's ears and made the room feel suddenly hotter than before.

As the groans gradually grew more frequent, Newt felt his own pulse accelerating. His pants started to feel a bit too tight and he groaned low in his throat, cursing his bloody luck. This couldn't be happening.

It didn't take long as the last and loudest moan by far was heard from the neighbouring room. Newt felt extremely uncomfortable by the whole situation but something – he had no buggerin' clue as to what – held him glued to the spot, the bucket full of washed clothes shaking in his hands. There was something in that voice, something that was almost, distantly, familiar..

Suddenly the shower quieted. The silence that followed snapped Newt finally out of his daze - What the bloody hell is happening to me? and he rushed toward the door leading out of the laundry room. Just as he was about to push the door open, though, there was another voice, calling out to him and once again freezing him to the spot. Newt felt his heart skip a beat as he immediately recognized the owner of the voice. A shiver ran down his spine.

"Newt?"