~~~~~
Being a med-jack and all, you thought your duties would include, you know, helping people. Medically. Not being here, stuck with 5 more-than-tipsy, rowdy boys as a supervisor.
Thomas takes a swig of his jar of moonshine. "Yeah, but guys." He says, pointing to you, Alby, Gally, Minho, and Newt. "You know who was with us when we came up here in the Box?"
From next to you, Newt barks out a laugh. "The goats?"
Thomas's eyes widen in genuine shock. "Holy shit. I didn't even realize. You think they'll be awake?"
Gally blinks slowly. "No, man, I think they are. Let's go ask them." He then proceeds to stand up, wrap an arm around Thomas's shoulder for support, and the two boys begin to walk over to the farm like the friends they never were. You blink, looking at their retreating forms. Did that just... Are they actually going to go to try and talk to the goats?
Your thoughts are interrupted by Alby letting out a loud cackle, and he rolls over, lying face down on the ground. You furrow your eyebrows, standing up to go see if he had passed out. Newt comes and stands next to you, using the end of his shoe to prod Alby's shoulder. When the boy lets out a loud snore, you hide a giggle behind your hands. Doing this was annoying, but it was kinda funny.
Minho stands, downing the jar in his hands. You jump behind Newt when he throws the jar onto the ground, breaking it into hundreds of tiny shards. "Another!" he shouts, and just as you walk over to him to lead him back to the Homestead, he sits down onto the nearest log, lying down awkwardly and humming a tune off-key. Rubbing your face, you move away from Newt, yawning. It was probably past midnight, and you hadn't gotten much sleep the night before - exhaustion was catching up on you.
Newt looks over to you, and you give him a tired smile. "Please tell me you're either going to bed or helping me get Thomas and Gally."
He shrugs. "Not really tired. You want a drink?" He asks, holding out his jar.
You gnaw at the inside of your lip, then going against your instincts, walk over to him and take a long sip of the drink. You wince as it goes down your throat, then sigh, smiling at the taste. "Thanks."
He nods, smiling. You raise an eyebrow. "Are you even drunk?" You ask, trying to judge from his eyes, but the dim light of the fire didn't let you see them properly.
He shrugs again. "Maybe. You know, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."
You furrow your eyebrows. Okay, this could either go really well or end horridly. "Yeah, what's up?" You ask, trying to sound casual.
He takes a breath. "I was thinking, and technically, a couple of years ago, today would've been the day I showed up in the Glade. So technically, it's my birthday. Well, I...guess it's significant in some way." He says quickly, stuttering at a few points. Something tells me that this isn't the alcohol.
You raise your eyebrows. Totally trying to stay cool even though that's probably the cutest thing he has ever said. "So what's on your wish list, birthday boy?" You ask.
He bites at his lip before responding. "A kiss."
Your heart stops for a moment, but you play it off. "Well, Drunk Thomas is right there--" you end with a laugh, pointing at the farm.
He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, I was thinking more of a kiss from you." He murmurs, setting the jar onto the grass before walking towards you, cheeks slightly red.
Oh, trust me, I'd love to. You bring your hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks. Leaning in slightly, you pause, his breath fanning your lips gently. "But I still can't tell if you're drunk or not. How do I know you won't forget about this tomorrow morning?"
He bites back a grin. "The day I forget you kissing me can be the day you throw me out in the Maze."
You smile, biting the inside of your cheek, before leaning forward and bringing his lips to yours. His hands rest loosely on your waist for a moment, but then he shifts, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You can feel the bittersweet taste of the alcohol on his tongue when it moves against yours, and you pull back, taking a breath. Moving your hands out of his hair and resting them against the sides of his neck lightly, you sigh contentedly. "Holy shit," he murmurs, knocking you out of your trance.
A weak "Happy birthday" is all you can muster when you feel his nose nuzzle into your neck, and he looks up at you, smiling.
"Best yet," he murmurs, kissing your forehead.
~~~~~
