The walls of the Maze are rough against Newt's fingertips as he drags them along its face.
Walking the length of the South wall, he is lost in a sea of troubling thoughts.
One could easily think that he is upset due to being trapped in a so-far-unsolvable maze of death. Or perhaps that he is trapped here with only a group of sweaty boys, all as clueless as him in regard to who they are.
But no.
Alas, Newt is worried about something much different. Much smaller - Though to him it feels like the largest thing.
He focuses on tracing invisible patters into the wall with his fingertips rather than succumbing to the whirlwind of anxious thoughts circling his brain.
Newt has a crush.
A big one at that. He has a crush even though he's trapped in a maze with a filthy lot of teenage boys - Only boys.
Newt doesn't remember much of anything about the outside world, but there is no denying the pit in his stomach, assuring him that his feelings are not normal. They are foreign. Alien. Disgraceful. He has to keep them to himself by any means necessary.
Newt can barley think of how awful it's going to be, living each day forcing this side of himself down. Being in a room full of people yet still feeling utterly alone. But being caged and lonely, is far better being caged and a freak.
It would only be worse if they knew - If he knew.
Newt stops tracing along the wall and brings his hand down to his side. His eyes are distant as he thinks of the subject on his heart. The tall figure, dark disheveled hair and confident grin.
'Shuck the boy is perfect'. There is no denying the thought, no denying attraction he feels towards the dark haired Glader.
Towards Thomas.
Newt has never felt strongly for the other Gladers in any way other than pure brotherly love. He cares for them deeply, of course; but never did he previously experience or expect this.
This anxious fluttering of his heart, this ember of affection gaining ferocity, this growing shame spreading from his core.
Thomas truly did a number on him, and he doesn't even know. He can never know.
Newt stops walking as the West wall comes into view, he has reached the corner between the two. With the corner in front of him and the woods behind him, Newt settles to the grassy floor to begin working through is conflicted thoughts.
He doesn't remember deciding to come here. This corner is where Thomas likes to hide when he needs to get away, though there is no sign of the dark haired Glader now.
Good thing too, Newt is in much too vulnerable of a state to endure a conversation with Thomas right now.
"Shuck, what the bloody hell is wrong with me?" Newt asks the walls before him, but receives no answer. Which is not a surprise to Newt, but he can't help wishing there was a voice to reassure him and tell him what to do.
"Nothing is wrong with you." Newt barley hears the friendly tone through his anguished thoughts.
'Yeah a voice just like that - Hold on.'
Newts thought is cut off as he realizes the voice is not a figment of his imagination, rather a tall dark figure leaning against the tree next to him. It was Thomas who spoke.
Of course it was.
Newt scrambles to his feet, stammering hopelessly as he attempts to find the words to explain. "Haha relax Newt, no need to get all worked up. If I knew this spot was taken for the afternoon I would have gone and bothered Chuck instead." Thomas says with a chuckle as he pushes himself off the tree and saunters towards his friend.
"S-sorry I know this is your spot. I just - I needed a spot to think I guess." Newt mumbles, alarms going off in his mind, reminding him over and over he is not emotionally stable enough to handle a conversation with Thomas right now.
Looking at the boy makes Newt want to laugh, to cry. To hug him close, to run away. To let him know, to keep it secret forever.
Conflicted urges and thoughts are taking over Newts head. He could barley think straight (lol gay pun), much less hold a conversation. Thomas seems to pick up on the panic in Newts eyes because his gaze morphs from teasing to concerned. "Newt what's wrong?" Thomas asks gently, taking a step closer to the blonde haired boy who takes a mirroring step backwards.
'Oh that blasted question.'
"N-nothing, like I said I - I just have to think." Newt says, more forcefully than intended. 'If I have time to think I can find a way to stop these feelings or at least suppress them. I can't do that if he's here. Shuck why did I come here of all places?' The monologue in Newts head continues to spiral as Thomas walks towards his friend, his face showing clearly that he doesn't believe Newts stuttering words.
"Newt, tell me what's wrong." Thomas pries, his gaze is more intense than his usual laid back aura. Not trusting himself with words, or more so not trusting he would be able to speak, Newt resorts to shaking his head quickly from side to side. Avoiding eye contact with Thomas as he continues to take steps closer and closer to him.
"Tell me what's wrong … or else." This gets Newts attention, Thomas' demeanor has completely shifted. The intensity replaced with mischief as he closes the final few feet between the two of them.
Newt is rather tall, but he feels horribly small under Thomas' smirk as he pushes his back against the tree trunk. His gaze skirting around Thomas for an escape route suited for a cripple. No such luck.
"Or else?" Newt asks, though he isn't sure he wants to know the answer. It's the only words he can manage to get out. "Or else I make you talk." Thomas said this simply, his eyes level - Though he does still bare a mischievous grin. 'Oh that bloody grin.'
"Yeah no, that's not happening." Newt says, trying to sound nonchalant as he brushes past Thomas in the direction of the West wall. His stomach drops as he feels Thomas grab the crook of his elbow and tug him back towards him.
"Ah-ah I don't think so. You think I can just ignore how upset you look? Tell me what's wrong or else I'll make you tell me." Thomas insists again, not releasing his grip.
It almost seems like he is hoping Newt will force his hand. But Newt can't focus on this observation, he can only focus on the deafening thoughts in his own head.
'Don't tell him. You can't tell him. He can never know. Don't bloody tell him.'
Over and over the thoughts chant in his head, Newt isn't able to think of a response to his friends threat. It's all he could do to remember to breath normally. Though at this point, passing out doesn't sound like a bad option.
"Times up, you've sealed your fate." Thomas says as he lunges forward; in turn causing Newt to stumble backwards, lose his footing, and ungracefully collapse onto the springy grass below him with a yelp.
Thomas wastes no time after Newt is on the ground, grabbing the blonde boys wrists and pinning them under his own knees, leaving Thomas' hands free.
"Tommy w-what the bloody hell is this? G-get off me!" Newt protests, his face a brilliant shade of crimson as the realization settles that Thomas is in fact sitting on his hips.
A conflicted rush of feelings momentarily overtakes Newt, exhilaration from being pinned by someone he's smitten for, anxiety at the idea of Thomas noticing his exhilaration, panic at the unknown intentions of the grinning Glader above him.
All these differing feelings swirl around in Newts head like a bellowing whirlwind as Thomas looks down at him. Newt fears they will never cease.
That is, until he feels a poke at his side and suddenly his mind is silent.
In an instant the voices stop, leaving Newt tense as a coil, staring up at his handsome friend in wary disbelief. "Whahat are yohou dohoing?" Newt asks, though the answer is quite obvious.
"I'm tickling you. And I'm going to continue to tickle you until you tell me what I want to know. So spill it." Thomas says, adding his second hand to the assault as he scribbles up and down Newts sides. The blonde teen is already lost in a flurry of giggles, uselessly tugging at his hands where they lay pinned beneath Thomas' knees.
"Wahahait stahahap!" Newt protests as Thomas began spidering his fingers into the hollows of his arm pits. Newt tries to pull his arms tighter into his sides to block Thomas out. But this only works as an effective means to pin the dark haired Glader's scribbling fingers in his arm pits. It isn't Newts worst spot but it was still debilitating.
"Stop? Meaning you're going to tell me what's on your mind?" Thomas asks innocently, slowing his attack a degree to allow Newt to respond. Newt hesitates in his answer, giving Thomas the only confirmation he needed to amp up his assault once more.
"I really am okay, there's no need to - AHAHA WAHAIT NOHOHO!" Newt was lost as Thomas wriggles his fingers out from the sensitive hollows of his armpits and starts a brutal assault over all the exposed ribs he could find. Which just so happens to be all of them.
"Look, this is only going to get worse for you. So you might as well just tell he what's bugging you." Thomas says pointedly - His attempt at a diplomatic approach.
Newt is not impressed by his argument, though he is starting to panic a bit as the realization settles that he's going to have to endure this torture until he admitted his feelings or Thomas gives up - And judging by the content mischievous grin on Thomas' face, those odds are not particularly good.
~~~
"W-why doHO yohou wahant augh toho knOHow so bahad?" Newt asks through his laughter as Thomas preys on a trigger rib close to the bottom of his rib cage.
It surely is excruciatingly ticklish, Newt is steadily losing energy as he tugs hopelessly at his arms.
"Simple. You're upset and I want to know why. Maybe I can help. This is a normal sentiment, no?" Thomas responds, though admittedly he did have deeper intentions that he is putting forward.
Newt is his best friend. If he didn't trust Thomas enough to tell him what's wrong, or if Newt didn't think that Thomas was capable of helping him in any way … The thought of the implications sits uncomfortably in Thomas' stomach as he continues his attempt to pry the answer out of the laughing Glader.
'Why doesn't he trust me?'
~~~
Newt can sense Thomas was trying harder now.
His hands are more methodical and precise, squeezing just a bit harder than Newt could handle leaving him in hysterics. "PLEAHAHASE STAHAHAP! PLAHAHSE NOHAHAHA!" Newt begs as Thomas' fingers finally find his terribly sensitive hips. The fingers stilled but kept their position just above his hip bones.
"It stops when you agree to honestly tell me what's going on. And I suggest you do it soon as it seems I have found your weak spot." Thomas can't seem to help but add the teasing comment at the end, as he lightly squeezes his fingers on Newts hips.
Clearly enjoying the sight of his friend blushing red as he squirms beneath his touch.
"P-plehease dohont." Newt whines through his anticipatory giggles. "Hmm allow me to translate that: you're not going to talk and so you will endure my merciless attack on your tickle spot. Yup, sounds about right." Thomas says curtly before squeezing harder on the sensitive muscles. Smiling at the flood of helpless laughter that erupted from his ticklish friend.
"PLEAHAHASE STAHAP!" He bellows through his laughter, Thomas shakes his head, as if disappointed. "How many times do I have to say this? It stops when you tell me what's wrong." The dark haired teen responds, continuing his casual annihilation of his friends sanity.
"I CAHANT!" Newt insists, his laughter growing frantic. His resolve was breaking. "Can't or won't?" Thomas presses, moving his right hand from Newts hips to squeeze at the trigger rib he discovered earlier. Mercilessly exploiting both spots with new vigor as he demands an answer. "AHAHAHA BOHOTH!" Newt manages to gasp out through melodic bouts of uncontainable laughter.
Thomas doesn't relent his assault even as Newts laugher became breathless and his eyes are wet with tears of laughter.
He is determined to break Newts resolve and boy is Thomas a stubborn soul. The scribbling is relentless, and it's impossible to focus on anything else. Newt can't take it anymore.
He needs it to stop.
"OHKAHAY OHKAHAY YOHOU WIHIN PLEAHAHSE JUST STAHAHAHAP!" Newt cries, summoning his last ounce of strength to shout his surrender. Thomas relents immediately, pulling his hands up to wrest them in his lap. Though he stays atop of Newts hips - Newt didn't mind this part all that much.
Newt takes his time catching his breath. His head reeling as he thinks of what to say, how to retreat, how to survive the aftermath.
Newt opens his mouth but no words come out, he shuts it again with a groan. Once more he opens his mouth only to close it a moment later, shutting his eyes and laying his head back in the ground below him in defeat.
"Dammit Newt why don't you trust me?" Thomas finally says his worries aloud, the genuine hurt is clear in his voice. This gets Newts attention immediately.
His head snaps back up as he begins to stammer an apology. "N-no that not it at all. I just - I'm sorry. I just - augh shuck, bloody hell this is hard." Newt laments, cursing himself for being so cowardly when clearly it was causing his friend pain.
Friend. That word. It doesn't settle right.
"If it's not because you don't trust me then why can't you tell me?" Thomas was more curious than accusatory this time, he seemed genuinely baffled. "I guess I'm afraid of the aftermath." Newt mumbles into his shoulder, barley perceptible as he speaks through the fabric of his shirt.
"Afraid of the aftermath? Well I assure you no matter what is bothering you it won't change anything between us. I promise." Thomas says, it was meant to be an assurance but instead it was a dagger into Newts stomach. The idea of things staying as they are between them was unbearable to think of.
Newt wanted change, what he didn't want was rejection. Which was surly inevitable.
"I - I feel ashamed." Newt manages to get the words out, it was vague and brief but it was all he could force himself to say. His voice is already shaking.
"Ashamed. Okay, ashamed of what?" Thomas presses gently, his head tilt slight to the side as he urges him to go on. The sight was calming enough for Newt to muster a few more words "Me. I'm not normal."
"To be fair I don't think anything about this place is normal. Not the Maze, not the Glade, and especially not the Gladers." Thomas says diplomatically, Newt can't deny that Thomas had a point but it also isn't what Newt is trying to say.
Not that he can blame Thomas for misunderstanding, Newt is the one barely able to get two syllables out without choking.
~~~
"That's true and thank you for saying that, but what I'm referring to is a bit different." Newt responds, once again talking into his shirt.
"Oye speak up. Tell me what you're referring to." Thomas says, gently poking at Newts hips who immediately burst into a puddle of giggles. It was rather adorable to Thomas really.
Wait. Adorable? Since when did Thomas start using such vernacular when referring to his friend. Newt IS his friend isn't he? Friend.
The pieces began to click together in Thomas' mind as a theory began to form. But he had to be sure, if he was wrong about this he would ruin their friendship forever.
Could this be what Newt is so worried about? It makes sense and checks the boxes on all of Newts bizarre behavior and adamance on secrecy.
Newt is clearly none the wiser of Thomas' revelation as he helplessly giggles under the dark haired teens wriggling fingers. "Ohokay fihine plehease stohop!" Newt squeaks when Thomas began pushing a little harder into his hips. It wasn't intentional, Thomas was merely lost in thought and subconsciously enjoying the sight of Newt in (adorable) hysterics beneath his fingertips.
Thomas pulls his hands up once more and rests them in his lap, looking at Newt expectantly. His gaze was steady and persistent, almost as if he needed the answer rather than merely wanted it. Newt wasn't sure what to make of this as he clears his throat and searches for the right words.
"I am - ahem - I have kind of … fallen … for someone." Newt stutters out, it took all his will power to not immediately look away and burry his face into his shoulder. "… someone?" Thomas presses a little further, he had to be sure. He had to be sure or else everything is ruined.
"Yeah, someone." Newt says, though it sounded more like a gasp. Determined to lighten the mood (and distract himself for a moment) Thomas begins his ticklish assault on Newts hips once more.
"Come on now, surly you know I won't be satisfied with 'someone'. Tell me who!" Thomas teases as he begins to push his hands into the sensitive muscles. His heart softening at the sight of Newts red face contorted with laughter.
"Thihis isn't fahair ahaha NOHO WAHAIT NOHOT THAHAT!" Newt cries out as Thomas again moves one hand from Newts hips to begin squeezing at the sensitive trigger rib. Using his left hand this time. Newt was already spent from the last bout of tickling and had no strength left to fight.
"ALRIHIGHT ALRIHIGHT! I LIHIKE YOHOU OKAHAY?" Newt yells, gasping in relief when the tickling ceases. His eyes were closed and he wasn't inclined to opening them any time soon.
Newt can't possibly bear to see Thomas' disgusted gaze. But Thomas had yet to get up from where he is perched on Newts legs. He hasn't moved a muscle since hearing this words come out of Newts mouth.
'You. I like you.' Newt liked him. HIM
Thomas is smiling, not that Newt could see that with his eyes closed. "So it's me huh. Now was that really so hard?" Thomas asks, breaking the silence. Newt cautiously opens one eye, still wary of humiliating rejection. But when his gaze finds Thomas' kind eyes Newt pulls his face from the crook of his shoulder and turns toward the dark haired boy above him.
"Yes it's you and YES it was that hard." Newt mumbles before continuing in a louder tone. "Are you implying that you don't mind?" He asks hesitantly, a tinge of hope in his voice.
Thomas melts at his shy words. "I don't mind at all. I'm rather pleased actually. I was never able to figure out myself what it is I've always felt for you that was so different from the others. But now I know." Thomas responds honestly, the smile still bright on his face.
~~~
Newt feels his insides do cartwheels and somersaults at Thomas' assurance.
"I - I guess I should have told you sooner. I was just scared and ashamed and confused and I didn't know what was wrong with me and-" Newts nervous rambling was abruptly cut off as Thomas leans forward and closes the final distance between the two of them.
There is no way to know for sure if this is Newts first kiss, or Thomas' first kiss. Given that have no memory of the outside world.
But there is no denying the molten explosion they both felt in their chests when their lips brushed against each other before pressing firmly. Breathing in the same air.
It was everything Newt was too scared to wish for. It was everything Thomas never realized he was missing.
When Thomas finally pulled away they are both breathless and blushing, wearing matching loopy grins. Thomas rises off of the blonde teen, who still riding out his blissful high.
Even now they are unsure of what this was between them, or what it could grow into.
But for the first time, the uncertain future doesn't worry Newt as he accepts Thomas' assistance in gathering his footing.
Even as the two of them walk down the length of the West wall without a destination in mind, Newt is not bombarded with conflicted thoughts or anxious tremors.
The secret is out.
And Newt is perfectly content.
It will take time to figure it all out; what could become of this spark between them. But they have time, and they had each other - That is something that is never going to change.