The day had started out the same as any other, get up, eat, run. Cut the vines at each turn but never find anything new. The day promised to be the just like yesterday and the same as tomorrow. They'd stopped and taken their break earlier than usual, but Newt hadn't thought anything of it and didn't comment. But now pinned up against the wall he understood that Minho had been planning this all along, ever since they'd had that talk in the forest.

They'd snuck off from everything once again, they'd been doing it for almost a year now without anyone noticing, or so they liked to think. They played their part when they were out in the Glade. Runners were considered to be brave and mysterious but they were still just like every other shank that'd been brought up in the box. What they did in the cover of the trees though was private, that belonged to them and no one else.

Minho had been busy kissing and sucking on Newt's neck, trying to forget about everything else and let it be just the two of them, it worked. All the stress and trouble ebbed away; in their place was the sound of Newt, whimpers of pleasure, little gasps for air, and once in a while the soft moan of Minho's name. The British boy had his hands trailing over the other, anywhere he could touch. Then he started loosening and then gripping Minho's arms as the boy went further down. When he'd pulled Newt's collar down as far as it would go Minho hitched the shirt up and continued pressing kisses over the boy's light body. Further and further down he went, his lips moving slowly in a pattern over pale skin. As Minho got to the bottom of Newt's chest he brushed one hand across the boy's inner thigh and then up pressing into his crotch. Newt whined and squirmed beneath him. Then to Minho's surprise Newt was pushing him away.

In a split second Minho was confused, and then the fear crept in. What if he'd gone too far this time? He could never live if he and Newt separated. Having to see the boy he loved every day and being forced to remember what they shared but their relationship awkward and broken and it all being his fault.

He relaxed a bit when Newt snuggled into his body like nothing had happened. After a brief hesitation Minho put his arm around Newt's neck like usual but feeling no less stunned.

"Do you think we'll ever...you know, do it?" Newt questioned unsurely, refusing to meet Minho's eyes until he'd finished.

Minho was now even more stunned. He understood exactly what Newt was saying, he just couldn't believe he'd said it. As a thousand different emotions surged through him all together he reminded himself for once in his life to actually be serious about this.

"I'd like to, baby." Minho admitted. "I just don't know if we can."

Now it was Newt's turn to be confused.

Minho sighed and held him closer. "Dude, we're stuck in a box babysitting a load of other shanks, even when we hide we're still in a box; in our bedroom, in the map building, even out here, we're still trapped in and we're still with them and dude there is no way I'm letting any of them walk in on us when we fuck for the first time, and even if they don't they'll still find out what we did and we're already the joke of this whole shuck place, I'm not ready for that joke to be ten times worse."

When Minho finished his rant Newt swallowed uncomfortably. "I see your point." Was all he said.

They didn't mention is again, they didn't even mention it now, it just happened and it was all Minho.

They ran corner after corner in time with each other, never stopping, never slowing. Every corner they turned seemed the same as the last and the same as the next. They continued running, always running, from nothing and probably to nothing but that was their task, until Minho stopped.

He did it so abruptly that at first Newt didn't realise what had happened and then he was no longer aware of Minho beside him. The British boy stopped looked back. Minho stood at the corner, just standing, tall, his chest heaving, trying to control his breaths, and his eyes, his deep eyes were fixed on Newt, holding within them the look of an oppressed hunger that made Newt feel quite scared.

First he glanced back over his shoulder. Grievers? But there was nothing there. What could cause Minho to freeze like that? Especially what had he specifically done?

"Minho?" Newt asked unsurely.

No reply. The Asian runner simply continued to stare at him with a needy glare.

"Minho? What is it?" Newt hissed, starting to slowly approach his partner now. He didn't know why he kept his voice down. The maze was still, they were alone, no grievers, nobody, nothing near them for miles upon miles.

"Come here." Miho spoke quietly, still not moving a muscle. His voice was soft which surprised Newt but also comforted him. And then he felt stupid for feeling so scared, he was a runner after all, and Minho would never do anything hurtful to him.

He marched the rest of the way back to where Minho stood at a turning of the maze. Thick, deep green covered ivy nestled into the corner where the two walls met, hiding the hard grey stone and giving this particular junction an almost clean and lush appearance.

"Minho, what's bloody wrong with-?" Newt started in exasperation as he reached the other.

He was cut off in surprise as Minho grabbed him by the shirt and flung him into the maze wall. Newt gasped in shock, stunned, though the thick ivy he was forced up against saved him from any impact. But he didn't have any time to linger on this, in the next split second Minho was right in front of him, his face inches from Newt, holding him there like a cage. The hunger in his eyes grew stronger than ever, it made Newt feel both scared and excited at the same time, no not even excited, aroused.

And then Minho leaned in to Newt's body, his slow breath tingling the top of Newt's neck, and he pressed his face against the paler boy and nipped at his ear making Newt shiver. Then he pulled away just an inch and without warning said sternly. "Take off your jeans."

For a second Newt was struck by disbelief. "What?" He stammered.

"You heard me." Minho growled. "Take off your jeans. Don't make me tell you again, like your some little shuck-face dribble-nosed baby who doesn't understand."

Newt didn't understand, but he didn't want to admit this. "You're crazy." He retorted.

"No, I'm most logical actually." Minho answered with a smile that made Newt melt. "We're alone, but we don't have much time. Hurry up, baby."

At this he gripped the inside of Newt's thigh, teasing him in the way Newt both hated and loved. He got the point and started to take his belt off.

Minho smiled again and dropped to his knees and pulled his shirt off. That was a rare sight that Newt loved to see. Work in the Glade was hard, and it wasn't uncommon for the boys in the Glade to go about their chores shirtless, but not Minho. It was a shame really, Minho was almost certainly the fittest of the gladers, and to Newt certainly the most attractive, still it made the moment now all the more better.

When Newt finally got his jeans off and Minho had helped the British boy shrug his underpants off too so that all his lower clothes were resting around his ankles, Minho paused a moment, wondering if he should say something, but he'd waited too long for this and just went for it.

He started by kissing the tip of Newt's cock. He enjoyed the effect it had on Newt, hearing him gasp above him and feeling his body tense and squirm. If this was the way Newt acted when he was just beginning with him Minho was going to seriously enjoy this.

Minho decided he wanted to experiment on Newt and see how he reacted. Slowly he poked his tongue out, the same way Newt liked him to do when he kissed him, then quickly he withdrew.

"Shuck." He heard Newt gasp above him and felt his body shudder again.

He looked up at the other boy's face from his position down on his knees. "Babe, I'm only just getting started, you sure you're okay?" He asked softly.

"Shuck, Minho, I'm bloody fine, don't stop." Newt complained. His cheeks were pinkish and his fists clutching at the ivy vines. He was biting his bottom lip and grinning at Minho at the same time.

Minho exchanged the grin back to him and bent his head down again. He continued licking the tip of Newt's cock, finding it increasingly hard to concentrate on what he was doing and enjoy the sounds of Newt attempting to control his gaspy breaths. Then to Newt's annoyance he stopped, only a split second later Minho started rolling his tongue all over Newt's cock. The skinny boy had all the air taken out of him in surprise of the pleasure and he gripped even harder at the ivy his body was nestled into. He started muttering, "Shuck, shuck, shuck, shuck" repeating the phrase over and over again. Minho wanted to laugh but he was busy with other things right now.

Newt was already so hard that Minho decided why wait and started to deep throat him, forcing his mouth over Newt's cock as much as he could, wanting tasting every inch of it. At this Newt's whole body stopped shuddering and stiffened, but he hadn't finally got control of himself, far from the opposite he was in shock. His mind was violent waves in a tempest storm that felt so good to be swimming in. He reached down for Minho; his hands finding the runner's neck and upper back, his fingernails scratched deep white marks into Minho's glistening skin. But Minho didn't care, he couldn't deny it to himself that he had sometimes, after a particularly enjoyable moment with Newt, fantasised about his British companion, but nothing could compare to reality and he wanted no dream to ever take the place of Newt now.

Finally, feeling how hard Newt was, Minho finished. He pulled his mouth off the blonde's erect cock and gave a few last flitting kisses over the tip. The Asian pulled the other down and Newt was glad for the chance to sink to his knees. He cuddled into Minho, his hoarse breath prickling Minho's golden chest.

"Uh-I.." Newt began to stammer out, getting more into control of himself again.

"Wait." Minho shushed him.

Newt realised he could feel the throbbing of Minho's own cock underneath the tight fabric of his jeans as they huddled against each other and then he felt annoyed that Minho still had them on. He looked over at the other runner and Minho understood, Newt had the suspicion that it was another part of his surprise plan.

"Down." Minho hissed, pushing Newt's body away from him and forcing him to prop on his hands and knees.

"Seriously?" The blonde questioned, feeling slightly ridiculous.

"Yes. And take off your shirt, shank."

Newt grinned at the way Minho talked, even during sex he had a sarcastic tone about him, before quickly pulling off his shirt, throwing into the ivy covered corner of the maze, and resuming the position.

The sound of fingers fumbling on fabric came from behind him and Newt realised Minho must be taking off the last of his clothes. He glanced eagerly over his shoulder to see. He'd long awaited this one detail to Minho's body that he didn't know, everything about the guy was perfect, his whole body appeared big and strong, but it wasn't just that. Newt loved his golden complexion, the tough feel of his skin. Physically Minho was flawless, and although Newt would never give him the satisfaction of knowing it, Newt actually thought everything about Minho, inside and out, was utterly flawless.

And when Minho finally took his underpants off Newt's feelings were confirmed to be true. Minho didn't disappoint, his cock was huge and beautiful, like the entire rest of his body. Newt thought this for the second that he got to look before Minho knocked his head back forward, staring at the ivy wall.

"Down, shank." He muttered angrily, but Newt had seen him grinning and knew that he was pleased.

He heard the sound of Minho spitting on his hand, then his low moans as he slathered himself up.

"Hurry up." He grumbled, having to stroke himself slowly because he felt so hard.

Minho didn't answer but in another second all of Newt complaints were washed away as Minho slipped a finger inside him. This was amazing, the first time Minho ever touched inside him, the first in a long line of times, Newt desperately hoped, though he knew he was lying to himself.

Minho smoothly caressed the insides of Newt, driving the boy mad with pleasure, and then another finger, and then a third, wriggling around in Newt and opening him up. Newt realised he was holding his breath and was clenched over, all concentration fixed on the feeling Minho was giving him.

Gently Minho pulled his three fingers out and then Newt grumbled at the feeling being released but then he stilled as he felt the tip of Minho's cock pressing against his opening. Minho positioned himself over Newt, pressing his chest against Newt's bare back, his breath tickling the side of the skinny boy's face.

"You ready, babe?" Minho whispered softly into Newt's left ear.

Newt held his breath for what must have been the hundredth time this hour. He knew what Minho was saying, even after all this he would wait if Newt told him too, because this was it, this was like signing a deal, but Newt didn't want to wait, because this was Minho. He knew then that there were no stupid horny teenage boy's desires here, he wanted to do this, he wanted Minho, he loved Minho.

"Yes." He replied determinedly. "Do it."

Minho pushed himself inside Newt. The blonde boy's face contorted at the feeling, he drew rugged breaths and bent his head down, shut his eyes, wincing, trying to come to terms with the feeling. He felt Minho's face appear beside his on the left side again, his lips brushing across his cheek, his breath tickling his skin.

"It hurts." Newt admitted.

"It's okay, baby." Minho told him in the softest voice he could muster. "Trust me, relax, it will be good, I promise. Trust me, baby." He pressed his body into Newt's back again, one firm hand came round and clutched Newt's torso, holding him steady, with his left hand Minho slowly reached out and grasped Newt's own hand, now he kept the boy's whole body in a protective hold.

Newt let out another shaky breath, but this time he felt comforted by Minho's grasp on him, his running partner would never hurt him intentionally. Minho brushed his lips across Newt's cheek again, then repeated the action several times, forcing Newt's attention away from the pain and onto the sensation of Minho's hot lips on his soft skin. Gradually Newt relaxed into Minho, breathing out a little moan of happiness.

"Better?" Minho asked quietly into Newt's ear.

Newt tried to talk but was distracted by the newfound feeling and could only get another moan past his lips and a smile to twitch across his face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch you." Minho continued, feeling like teasing now that Newt had relaxed. "Feeling better?"

"Y-yes." Newt managed to get out, his lips trembling as he spoke.

"Good." Minho smiled.

Cautiously the Asian runner started moving rhythmically inside his partner, moving slowly and taking care not to hurt Newt. Soft whimpers escaped the British glader's lips, he knelt further down into the ground, moulding his body into Minho's and responding to the boy's actions, bucking his hips back in time with Minho. It felt good, but somehow it wasn't what Newt had expected, he wanted Minho giving him everything, and he knew he wasn't. Yet he could feel the other runner's body all over him, his senses tickling and awakened at the feeling, it was making him very hot.

"Minho..." Newt moaned.

Minho liked that, he liked the look of Newt's face with his eyes closed, his cheeks flushed pink, and his short breaths through trembling lips. And the way he called his name off those lips, Minho needed to hear that sound more often.

"Again." Minho replied sternly. "Say my name again."

But the boy was being too slow, too cautious, for Newt's taste, he was already so hard, he needed Minho, he had to have Minho now.

"Faster." He murmured. "I will. But please, faster."

Minho liked that too, liked Newt begging and pleading, so he gave Newt what he wanted. "Don't fear, baby." He replied gleefully. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk when I'm done with you."

Newt only sniggered.

Minho quickened his pace, slamming his hips forcefully against Newt's body, his breathing becoming rough and husky as he did so.

"Bloody shuck, Minho." Newt gasped, squeezing his eyes shut again, all focus on the feeling, barely any space left in his brain for what was actually coming out his mouth. "Ugh, Minho. Shuck, Minho, shuck."

He kept repeating himself, Minho hanging on to every word as he fucked him. The Asian wished he'd thought to do this with Newt long ago, it felt so good, just to hear him whimper his name was a paradise he'd never known. But then Newt moaned his name again, louder than before, almost crying and the sound snapped Minho back, his chest heaving, his body prickling with sweat, his arms and legs tough as they pressed into stone. And Newt, Newt hot beneath him, Newt moaning and whimpering, everything he felt and knew was Newt. And it didn't matter that they had never done this before, it didn't matter if they never did it again, it didn't matter if they got stuck out in the maze tonight and never saw sunrise again, it was worth it, it was worth it not only for this feeling, but knowing it was for Newt.

"Minho..." Newt mumbled shakily, trying to find some control of himself, but his breathing was short and he was so hard.

"Hang on." Minho muttered understandingly.

A split second later he thrust deep inside Newt and came. Newt cried out again but any form of words was lost in the feeling. Minho let out a long and low moan but it was drowned out as he buried his face into Newt's backside, he felt his wet skin pressed onto his lips, his smell, but he saw nothing, only white lights popping out in front of his eyes.

He pushed himself back up quickly and pulled out collapsing beside where Newt was still hunched over. "Alright." He gasped, meeting the boy's eyes.

Newt came on the stone floor of the maze and let out one last long gasp of pleasure before collapsing on his back next to Minho. The Asian reached over and gently stroked him off, Newt moaning softly as he did so, then with the last drops of Newt's cum on his hand Minho licked his fingers one buy one.

Then the two of them lay there, catching their breath, staring up at the ivy covered walls and sky beyond with glazed over eyes. They both knew that was stupid but neither of them had energy to anything right now and neither of them cared. Thankfully all in near was still and quiet, they were alone.

Eventually Minho got in control of his breathing again and turned onto his side, staring down at Newt. The blonde boy's own breathing was slow and shallow but as he looked up at his partner a huge grin spread upon his face and his eyes glittered.

Minho smiled back. "Man." He laughed. "I'll run the maze again, but it won't be just to find a way out of this shuck place."

"I'll hold you too that." Newt replied.

Minho's smile spread even wider. "I was hopping you'd say that."

When they were fully in control of themselves they dressed and went at a slow jogging pace back towards the Glade, being careful with their time so that they wouldn't arrive too early or too late. As they rounded the last corner before the one that led to the Glade Newt slowed to a walk, Minho joined him. There was silence between the two for a few seconds. Newt had been thinking on something the majority of the journey back, something neither of them could confirm but he still wanted to discuss it.

"Do you, um...do you think that was our first time?" He asked cautiously, glancing quickly at Minho and then looking away.

Minho had to hesitate for a moment before replying confidently. "You? Most definitely. But me? Nah, I've probably done it loads of times before with loads of people."

That made Newt want to reach out and hold the other boy's hand because it was obvious Minho was lying just to bulk up his character as always. He thought back to when he'd first met Minho, of course he had no idea how old either of them where, but they'd both been only about fifteen at the time, and who knows how long they'd been in the clutches of the Creators before that. The likelihood was that this morning both of them had been virgins.

"I hope it was my first time." Newt admitted, not caring about the stupid commit from Minho he was sure to get next.

To his surprise no reply came and when he looked over at Minho again he found the boy staring at him.

"Why d'you say that?" Minho asked finally.

Newt smiled. "Because I want it to be you."

Minho scoffed. "Dude, that's really corny."

"Yeah, maybe, but it's also true." Newt replied.

"I get you." Minho admitted. He understood Newt, he knew that had probably just been his first time and although he didn't like to confess it, he did like the idea of Newt being his one and only. "It's a nice thought, baby, but I never said that."

Newt snorted and looked at the other boy with one eyebrow raised. "I'm the only one who's ever going to know, stupid, there's no one else we can ever tell."

Minho smiled again and reached his arms over his head, stretching the aches out of his body. Newt watched him as he did so and caught a glimpse of his deep white fingernail marks etched into Minho's neck.

"Shuck." He gasped, pointing. Minho turned down his shirt collar to look. "What you going to do if someone asks you about them?" Newt questioned nervously, several of the gladers were bound to see the marks.

They were near the last turn now so Minho grasped at Newt's hand and stopped him, Newt was very glad that he did. "I'll smile and walk away." Minho answered confidently. "It's nobody's business but ours, it never has been, but especially out here. That's what it is, being a runner, you carry secrets, and this can be just another secret, even if it's more important than anything else I know in this shuck world."

"So what you're saying is; that what happens in the maze, stays in the maze?" Newt asked with a grin.

Minho chuckled. "Yeah, Newt, I like the way you put it." And then he looked over the British boy's face before dropping his hand.

"Good that." Newt said happily as they broke out into a jog together and turned the last corner.