deadheads

by pufferfishink

Summary:

Newt and Alby always stressed order. They were always nagging the Gladers about doing their jobs, not causing a scene, and behaving appropriately. But eventually, Newt convinced Alby that what no one knows can't hurt them. So, when jobs were done and everyone was distracted at dinner, they snuck out to the outskirts of the Deadheads to get a little time to themselves. And somehow, despite their intelligence, they never figured that someone else would know their secret spot.

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this fic isn't going to be updated until june. since getting out of the psych ward ive been playing an insane amount of catch-up and i really need to focus on school. i am (slowly) working on this but until summer i can't regularly update. thank you for the kudos babes!

Chapter 1: 1

Newt and Alby always stressed order. They were always nagging the Gladers about doing their jobs, not causing a scene, and behaving appropriately. But eventually, Newt convinced Alby that what no one knows can't hurt them. So, when jobs were done and everyone was distracted at dinner, they snuck out to the Deadheads to get a little time to themselves. And somehow, despite their intelligence, they never figured that someone else would know their secret spot.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

At least once a week, Newt would successfully drag Alby to the outskirts of the deadheads to have a little time to themselves. They never did anything that would be mortifying should they get caught, but they still weren't ready for their relationship to be public. They were, after all, in a cement box full of teenage boys with attitude problems, and they didn't know how any of those klunkheads would react to their first and second in command kissing in the forest. So, here they were. Alby leaning against a tree, back facing the rest of the world as he knows it, and Newt flush against him, pressing kisses along his jawline.
Alby looked down at Newt's golden curls bouncing as his head moved from Alby's jaw, to the shell of his ear, back to his jaw, then down to his neck. He can hear Newt giggling softly out of pure mirth.
"Whatcha laughing at, shuck-face?" Alby tilted Newt's chin upward and was met with a toothy smile.
"'M just happy." Alby cocked his head to the left. Despite his teasing, he loved hearing Newt giggle between kisses. He used to be so rarely happy, but now? He's no Chuck, but when he's with Alby by the deadheads, things seem normal. He seems normal. Newt isn't an ex-runner who needs constant supervision anymore, he's a bashful teenage boy avoiding the rest of the world with his boyfriend. And Alby liked it that way.
They were the only people on each other's minds. Until…
*Snap!*
"Trust me, nobody will be back here. Just relax for a second, you work so hard." Newt pursed his lips in an attempt to stifle laughter and Alby whipped his head around the tree trunk to look at who was approaching.
"Holy shit." Newt stepped up onto the tops of Alby's shoes to see what he did.
"Tommy?" Thomas and Minho froze in place, acting as if not moving would render them invisible. Minho took one cautious step over to Newt and Alby, just close enough to see how they were positioned behind the tree.
"What are you two doing back here?" Alby, in his panic, replied with the only reasonable answer.
"Working hard."

Chapter 2: 2

Summary:

o(≧o≦)o

Notes:

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
indicates a time change!!

The four boys were sprawled over Thomas's blanket in the corner of the Glade, Alby not-so-subtly touching Newt at all times. Out of all the crazy shit that could have happened, Minho and Thomas walking in on Newt and Alby about to do God knows what with the intention of doing God knows what was the last on any parties list. The tips of Newt's ears were bright red as he fumbled through an explanation of why exactly they were pressed against a tree instead of eating dinner.
"So do you two just skip dinner every day?" Thomas chimed in with another question, à la greenies.
"Okay," Minho chimed in, "I'm with him on this one. Does Frypan know?" Newt glanced at Alby with a cocked eyebrow. The truth was, they didn't know if Frypan knew. He was always understanding when Alby and Newt showed up late. But when they showed up late together? Maybe he was just joking. Or maybe…

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Sorry we're late, Fry!" Newt flashed Frypan a toothy grin as a pile of grits dropped onto his plate.
"I get it, you two had a lot to do." Frypan smirked at Newt and Alby before retreating back into his kitchen.
"Do you think he suspects anything?" Alby shot a concerned look at his second in command.
"Nah. Don't worry so much. Now hurry up, I need my beauty rest to run, you know."
"Quit." All Alby earned was a giggle.
Another day, Newt returned from the Maze late. The second he returned, Alby made sure to professionally ask Newt to "discuss important matters" with him. However, no matter how convincing the performance was, which was apparently cogent enough to get Gally's attention, Frypan wasn't fooled.
"So," Frypan mused while cutting a meatloaf (or what's left of it),"y'all work out that issue you were talking about?" There was a glint in his eyes that could only be described as impish. But Alby was named after Einstein for a reason.
"Well…" Alby looked up in faux dread. "We were talking about finding a new chef for the Glade." Frypan leaned forward with widened eyes. The plan had worked.
"What? Everyone loves my food! People are just joking when they say it's bad…right?" Newt gave his boyfriend a look of disapproval before playing along.
"We can talk about this later, Fry." Newt shot the keeper a pageant-winning smile before walking far enough away to elbow Alby in the side.
A few weeks later, Fry came to visit Newt in the Medjack. In his hand, a meatloaf. Fry didn't say anything about Alby sitting on the edge of Newts bed, his hand on the smaller boy's chest. But ever since then, when Fry made meatloaf, he kept a little extra for Newt and Alby. And maybe it was just a lack of dishes, but he had started putting it on only one plate.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Alby left his mouth agape while wondering if Frypan actually knew about his paramour.
"I'm not sure if Frypan knows…" Thomas lifted his chin with a smirk.
"So we're basically the only ones? That's interesting."