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Thomas wasn’t really sure how they ended up like this- awkwardly locked in a closet with Minho, both of them avoiding eye contact.
He could feel the blush spreading on his face as he realized why they ended up in this awkward, awkward position.
There wasn’t exactly a moment when Thomas realized he liked Minho- the attraction had always been there.
It had just clicked one day.
He could remember that day; the glint in Minho’s eyes when he challenged Thomas to a friendly race in the maze, the ripple of his arms as he looped an arm around Thomas’ shoulders after the friendly competition.
That was when it clicked.
He liked Minho.
Things- or rather Thomas- got really awkward from that point on.
He would avoid Minho, take seperate routes into the maze, dodge conversation at mealtimes and tug Newt or Chuck away when he felt like he couldn’t take it.
When he didn’t have a choice, he’d drive away any decent conversation through awkward responses and silence.
"Shuck, ya find anything?"
Thomas blinked, losing focus when Minho’s voice registered in his ears. He refused to look up.
He would not get any more distracted from his task-
"Thomas?"
-What exactly was he doing again?
"Alright there?"
Minho was looking at him oddly now- why did he have to be so-
"Yeah," Thomas said after a few seconds, blinking awkwardly and rubbing the back of his neck. "You?"
The weird look Minho was giving him didn’t recede when he responded with “All good,”
Later on, Thomas would spend hours groaning at his awkwardness. Wasn’t he supposed to be smart or something?
Dinner wasn’t any better.
"Hey, Thomas- wanna go look at the maps after dinner?" Minho would ask during dinner, cracking his knuckles as he turned to face his fellow runner.
Thomas choked on the food in his mouth, swallowing hastily and coughing harshly, causing Newt to snicker.
"Shut up," Thomas hissed in between coughs. “‘Newt- shut up!" Which would only serve to make the Glade’s second in command laugh even harder.
At this point, Minho was just watching the two awkwardly.
"But- Newt and I have to- uh," The Greenie could feel the blush spreading on his cheeks as he fumbled around for words. "Do a thing, right Newt?"
Without waiting for the blonde’s reply, he grabbed Newt’s arm and started dragging him away, calling a goodbye over his shoulder.
"Really, Tommy?" Newt asked later, rolling his eyes as he was dragged away from his food. "Minho? Can’t say I’m surprised though. You’ve been so awkward.”
"Slim it." Thomas would reply, rolling his eyes. "Tell me somethin’ I don’t shuckin’ know."
"One, your Glader words suck." The drawl that passed Newt’s lips was not something Thomas thought the blonde was capable of pulling off. "Two- Minho knows there’s somethin’ off, Tommy. But I’ll take care of that."
Which is how they ended up in this position, with Thomas getting as far as humanly possible as he could from Minho.
Which was still very close, considering that Newt had locked them in a closet.
"Shuckin’ Newt," Thomas started cursing the blonde frustratedly. "Goddamn shuck and his shuckin limp- how does a guy with a limp get two runners into a closet anyways? I’m gonna-"
"Alright there, Thomas?" Minho would look up and ah klunk his face was really close to Thomas’ and he could smell grass and-
"Yeah, yeah! I’m totally fine, just you know, relaxing-"
"Thomas, we are in a closet."
A blush spread over the Greenie’s cheeks and he looked away. “Right, I knew that. Stop being a slinthead.”
Thomas rolled his eyes, resuming his cursing of Newt’s name. “Slinthead second in command, shuckin’ blondie-“
"Hmm, so you like Newt? Not at all obvious with all that- can’t see why you’d like anyone else in here-" Minho stopped talking, refusing to meet Thomas’ eyes. "Any idea why we’re in here?"
"No, nope- absolutely none! And wait- Newt?" Thomas started shaking his head furiously- which ended in a collision with Minho’s head. "Do you?" He asked in turn.
He sighed in relief- at least Minho was off his scent.
“‘Well- I mean- you’re always draggin’ ‘im places,” Minho mumbled. “And ya’ talk to him more than me now-“
And wait, was Minho jealous?
"I- no," Thomas burst into awkward laughter. He didn’t like Newt, for shuck’s sake. “I- I actually like someone else,”
"Well who is it?" The Asian would ask with a small frown.
"I- ah," The younger runner leaned against the closet wall- away from Minho. "He’s- uh- in here."
"I knew that, slinthead- not like you remember stuff outside the maze?"
It was a question.
"No, shuckface!" Thomas burst out. "Here in the closet.”
“Oh?” Minho would ask- then it clicked. "Oh.”
The closet opened- sending the pair tumbling out.
"Minho, get off me.” Thomas would groan from underneath. “You heavy piece of mmmph-!”
Okay, Minho’s lips could stay on Thomas for as long as he wanted.