Arthur let out a long groan of frustration as Alby left before shifting, his bandages digging into his side. "You gotta be nice Artie, You'll set a bad example." Newt rubbed his thumb over Arthur's knuckles, dusting over each individual creasing.
"I...
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we get into this shit fast bro. kissing. thomas. jason.
Newt was leading Arthur into the Deadheads, away from all the hustle and bustle as everyone was chatting to themselves in a flurry of slight fear. The blonde couldn't care right now. Not when Arthur was clenching his fists so hard they might crack.
"Artie, you alright?" A firm hand gripped him as they walked and as soon as they were out of sight Newt brought him in for a hug. "Please tell me what happened. You saw a Griever?"
Arthur was too focused on pulling himself together to register the faint hand that ran up his arm toward his shoulder, nor the worried questions heading his way. All he could think about was the Maze, or what he could remember. The memories of it faded a bit, leaving him with a sense of overwhelming discomfort.
He could feel the hand on his cheek and the very distinct voice of Newt who sounded much more worried than he should have been in Arthur's humble opinion.
A need took over him as the horrific thought consumed him that he would have never set eyes on the blonde again if he had died in there. He would never have experienced the brief touches as they talked, nor would he have been able to return the kiss that Newt had given him. So he cupped his cheeks with his hands and looked into his eyes.
Newt's hand slipped from Arthur's face. The brunette's fingers traced against his skin, so delicate and gentle that he nearly stopped breathing. The contact was so faint he craved for more. It was no longer a want, it felt as though if he were a second without Arthur he couldn't take it. He needed Arthur.
Their eyes met and Arthur understood. In the space of a second, their lips had met and everything righted. Their bodies pulled flush against each other as Arthur's fingers tangled in Newt's hair. He could feel the blonde's hands gripping his waist with one hand and pulling him more toward him with the other as he placed his hand on his upper back.
The moment moved slowly, chasing after each hour they hadn't let themselves do this. Hadn't let them indulge in each other, memorising the curve on his waist as the blonde's hands held him firmly as if ensuring he wouldn't run away again, something Arthur wouldn't dream of doing. Their breaths mingled as they parted. Their foreheads rested against each other as they relished in the peace that was so scarce these last few days.
"Took you long enough." With that sentence, Arthur dissolved into laughs, his head dropping to rest on his shoulder. The situation between the two is so unusual yet familiar, the build-up of years' worth of pining that the two had endured.
With a last laugh, Arthur cleared his throat, the smile on his face being hidden by the fabric of Newt's hoodie. "Shut up." There was a slight shake of repressed chuckles from the boy in front of him.
After a moment his head rose and met Newt's eyes again. With pursed lips he fixed the blonde's hair from where he had messed up up, the boy watching him. The concentration on his face, the fixed jaw as he straightened him up. Unable to help himself Newt hooked his hand around the back of Arthur's neck and pulled him in again, meeting him in an enthusiastic kiss.
