In The Maze

Chapter eleven (Y/N)

Get ready for a little lovey-dovey stuff! Two dorky shanks finally open up to each other!

And, to clarify, sleeping together doesn't automatically translate to "having sex." People can sleep together in a platonic relationship. They can also sleep together in a romantic relationship without having sex. Cuddling, talking, and simply enjoying the presence of your partner can be done when sleeping together. I'm referring to the latter scenario here.

The relationship between Newt and (Y/N) is one I would seek out which is basically a romantic relationship without the sex stuff. The lines between platonic and romantic can blur depending on the people involved. Romantic love also doesn't need to include sex as there are other forms of intimacy. That's what's happening here.
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"Tonight's scores are; ten (Y/N), eleven Gally, and nine Newt!" Minho called out to which he received a raucous round of applause from the surrounding gladers all crowded around the chalk-drawn fighting circle.

Gally, Newt, and I were sparring. Having loads of fun while simultaneously honing our skills and exploring our strengths and weaknesses. Newt's weakness was his limp and that he often hesitated to move into offense, but was still agile and swift with impressive reflexes. Gally relied on his size and strength but it was, in turn, what slowed him down. I, on the other hand, didn't have the stamina they had. While I could push through and was building my endurance, I got winded relatively quickly. I also wasn't the best at defending my left side. But, I was good at channeling my emotions, using them to fuel my attacks. Instead of letting them get the better of me, I used them to better defend myself.

Still, sparring was fun for us and for the other gladers. It added to the thrill of bonfires and entertained us during our free time after dinner.

We were all proficient in close combat but could fair just as well from afar. Hand-to-hand combat was all we could practice for the time being so I had no idea if we could properly wield weapons aside from the tools we used in the Glade. Though I had a strong feeling we could. It was also easy for us to move in unison and sometimes fought two against one. To me, those were some of the coolest fights. Whoever trained us sure did an excellent job and it was one of the few things I could thank W.I.C.K.E.D for.

Five months ago, I didn't think I'd enjoy bonfires so immensely. But now, bonfires are the fucking best!

"Are you bloody keepin' score?" Newt asked Minho incredulously. He wiped some of the sweat from his brow and looked at his friend, amused that he was tallying our wins. The two of us had just finished sparring and called it quits for the night. I beat Newt, but I know he let me win. He's much faster than me and could've easily dodged my hits, but he didn't.

Minho pulled a face as if he was shocked by the prospect of not keeping score. He was competitive and that aspect of his personality sometimes carried over into other things. He loved turning games into competitions or creating his own. Of course, he enjoyed them more whenever he won. "Shuck yes I am! Why wouldn't I? This klunk is marketable."

I downed a cup of water, the adrenaline fading as my breathing slowed down after our workout. "Let me guess, you guys are placing bets too."

Winston, Henry, and several other gladers looked sheepish, like children who got caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. I laughed, their reaction was all the answer I needed.

"What are you even betting with? We don't have money." I shook my hair out and fixed it into a messy bun.

"Rations," Zart shrugged, "exchanging favors; stuff like that."

Newt rolled his eyes, a smile on his face. "You shanks are unbelievable."

"I know," Minho smirked. "We're just the best."