A/N: Hello again! I've been pretty busy lately and I was initially planning on updating earlier but here I am with chapter 3 now! Thank you for your reviews again, keep them coming! Nothing makes me happier than hearing your thoughts (except maybe newtmas).

I also added a cover image for my story. I've never done anything much with photos but I wanted my story to have one so I decided to try something out.. What do you think about it?

Now, enjoy!

I think I might've inhaled you

I can feel you behind my eyes

Newt turned around slowly. As his eyes descended on the figure before him, he felt the air leave his lungs in a shuddering breath.

Thomas was standing at the doorway leading to the showers, steamy air drifting from the room behind him. All over his tanned skin droplets of water were traveling down his body. A white towel was hanging low on his hips, his other hand holding it in place just below his hipbone. The muscles on his stomach and chest were moving slightly as the boy was breathing a bit faster than normal.

Little by little, Newt raised his gaze to the boy's face, swallowing hard. Thomas's dark hair was even darker as it was still wet from the shower and the nearly black locks were curled a bit. Thomas was looking straight at him, his lips parted slightly, a mortified expression on his beautiful, open face.

All the thoughts had cleared out of Newt's head. He was completely fascinated by the sight before his eyes. Fascinated.. and turned on as hell.

"Newt?" Thomas said his name again. "W-what - When did you get in here? I swear I didn't know anyone would be here at this time and it was so quiet-" His words were rushed and as he spoke his cheeks started to flush.

Newt cleared his throat trying get rid of the lump that had appeared there just minutes ago, making his voice hoarse. "I was here all the bloody time! I didn't hear you coming in either except when you started runnin' the water. Why were you showering so bloody early, anyway? No one does that."

Thomas ran a hand through his wet hair, letting it stick out of his head a bit. Newt couldn't help but notice the slight tremble in his muscles as he moved.

"Well, I've noticed you shanks like to sleep till the last minute before you're made to wake up, so I decided to use that as an advantage. I prefer to shower in peace and not have to queue all night long, anyway.." Thomas's voice quieted toward the end of his sentence, adjusting the towel better to his hips. Newt's gaze was immediately drawn to the movement but he quickly corrected himself, staring back into those hazel eyes before making things even more awkward for both of them.

"Well, I guess that's.. sane." Newt really had to leave until he did something stupid. It was getting harder and harder to stay still by every passing second as the mix of hot, steamy air and the scent of Thomas were flooding his senses.

"Anyway, I should get going. Gonna get these to dry nice n' clean," Newt muttered quickly. He moved the bucket in his hands a bit awkwardly, holding it tightly in place to hide his lower body and the bulge in his trousers before meeting Thomas's eyes once again. "You're gonna help Frypan in the kitchen today, aren't you, Greenie?"

"Good that," Thomas nodded, biting his lip.

Newt shivered at the gesture, shaking his head and starting to turn around and leave the scene, finally. "Good that. Alright.. See ya around, Tommy!"

"Newt! Wait!"

Newt stopped his movements, his hand already grasping the door handle. He closed his eyes and tried to stay calm.

"Yes, Tommy?" He didn't dare to turn around.

"I just- uh- I was just wondering.. you didn't hear anything, did you? Uh- earlier?"

There was the tiniest tremor in the younger boy's voice as he said those words. Newt felt his heart pounding hard against his ribs.

"No, Tommy, I-.. Just.. water." And then Newt couldn't stand it any longer. He rushed out of the door and closed it hastily behind him. He leaned his back against it, letting out a huge breath, groaning.

The day was just getting better and better.

*.*.*

Newt made his mission to keep himself as busy as possible. He stomped around the Glade helping the other boys out here and there. Everywhere else but in the kitchen. He had made a mental note to stay as far away from the kitchen as possible. He had even skipped meals because he really didn't want to see Thomas right now. Inside his head a tiny voice kept scolding him for being stupid and acting like a bloody child but his legs simply refused to go anywhere near those corners.

The arrival of the weekly supplies in the afternoon stopped the normal schedule of the day for good few hours. The ear-splitting voice of the alarm called the Gladers to gather around the Box, waiting for the lift to arrive and to finally shut the voice down. Newt kept glancing around him and as it came clear that Frypan and the cooks would stay in the kitchen as they often did (it would soon be dinner time anyway), he couldn't help feeling immensely relieved but inexplicably disappointed at the same time. He was safe from running into Thomas for now.

Finally the horrible howl quieted and was replaced by the familiar voices of the lift arriving to the top with clicks and stutters. Newt nodded for a couple of boys who tore the doors of the Box open together, revealing the lift with its contents.

There was nothing unusual about the supplies they got this week, Newt noted. Food, some wood, new pairs of shoes, soap, some other things they'd asked and the Creators had been willing to give, etc. Newt started to bark orders for the boys to pick up the stuff and carry them where they belonged.

Slowly but surely the Box started to drain out of supplies. As Newt was gesturing to one of the boys to take the flour sacks to the kitchen, he noticed movement at the corner of his eye. He turned his head just in time to see a blond-haired, strongly muscled boy hovering over a basket full of Med-jack's equipment and slipping something in his pocket. Newt felt familiar irritation tugging at the edges of his mind.

"Ben, you bloody shank! How many times have I talked to your shuck head about this?" Newt yelled to the boy, stepping closer to the edge of the Box.

The boy in question whirled around, looking up at Newt. A wicked smile started to spread on his face. "What are you yapping about, Newt? I'm only doing what I'm told, saving your sore ass from the dirty work and getting the supplies delivered," he said with a mocking grin, lifting the basket to his lap.

Newt felt the fury get the better of him. "How dare you lie straight to my face, you filthy little-"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic! It's only one bottle, there's another one for Med-jacks as well. It's no big deal," Ben interrupted. His smile was full of arrogance.

Newt's gaze turned murderous and he lowered himself, jumping down to the Box, next to Ben.

"I told you once, don't test me, Ben. I won't say it again. Empty your pockets. Now," Newt said a warning and a threat clear in his voice.

Ben turned to face him fully, staring back with defiance. He was just about to snark straight back when another, deeper voice interrupted him from above.

"What's going on here?"

Both boys looked up at Alby who was standing at the edge of the Box, glaring at them with his arms crossed over his chest, muscles bulging under his shirt.

"Nothing," Ben smiled. "Newt's just being his lovely, cheery self as usual. Alby, you should take better care of your," Ben winked at Newt, "friends and their needs."

Newt's eyes widened with rage but right then Ben started to climb out of the Box without another word. As he rose to the ground next to Alby, however, the dark-skinned boy took hold of his arm, stopping him. Ben rolled his eyes and took the bottle of alcohol from his hoodie pocket, slamming it to Alby's hand. Alby let him go but kept looking after him with narrowed, doubtful eyes.

After the boy was gone, Newt started to rise out of the lift himself. When he was standing next to Alby, the boy grasped his shoulder, making Newt face him. Newt glanced at Alby's hand before raising his troubled eyes to Alby's.

"Newt, are you sure you're ok? What was that about down there?" Alby asked him with worry clear on his face.

Newt scowled after the retreating Builder, many yards away now. "I'm bloody fine, Alby! The slinthead was just being an arrogant shuck as usual. That bloody shank doesn't know when to shut his hole. Can't keep to his own buggerin' business, always snooping where he bloody shouldn't," he spat venomously.

"Come on, you know how Ben's been lately. Nothing new there. Honestly, what's going on with you? You're tight as a wire these days," Alby frowned at him, moving his hand lower to Newt's bicep.

Again something cold shivered down Newt's skin at Alby's touch. He figured Alby had a point though.

"It's nothing, just sleeping badly. Nothin' to worry about," he mumbled. Unconsciously his gaze swept over the kitchen corners, an unreadable expression flashing across his face which didn't escape unnoticed under Alby's eyes.

"I could give you company, Newt. Help you sleep better. All you have to do is ask, you know that, right?" Alby whispered, raising his hand to sweep his fingers across Newt's cheek lightly.

With a slight bolt Newt stepped back, a small step but one that made the hurt expression appear in Alby's eyes again, longer this time. Newt swallowed and avoided the other boy's eyes.

"I know, Alby, sure. But I.. I think it's not a good idea. Sleeping with someone has never made a difference before, you know that," he said, a bit embarrassed now, but certain of his words.

Alby looked at him, quiet, for a long time. In the end he let out a deep breath, shaking his head slightly.

"Yeah, well, if you say so. I'll.. go on from here. Take a break or, something," he muttered with a low voice, turning around and walking off toward the group of approaching Gladers.

Newt stared after him for a while, wondering what the hell Alby must be thinking about him these days. He couldn't blame the boy though. He hardly knew what to think of himself, either.