Not Gonna Lose You

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from The Maze Runner movies and I'm not making any money from this fic

Summary: Standalone AU. Things go a little differently. Another bingo line: hand or hairbrush, erotic, consensual, lust, lover or spouse

Warning(s): Spanking; minor spoilers for The Maze Runner and The Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials; major spoilers for The Maze Runner: The Death Cure; violence; descriptions of a teenager suffering from a nasty virus that turns sufferers into zombie-like creatures; potentially triggering material – one character attempts to kill himself/force his friend to kill him; AU; two teenage boys making out

Pairing: Thomas/Newt – slash

Author's Note: Yeah, I should be working on the blackout, but figured I'd be able to concentrate better once this idea's out of the way. And I apparently have a new favourite pairing

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Newt grabbed the gun from Thomas' holster and for a split second, Thomas thought his best friend would aim it at him. Instead, the other boy aimed the gun at his own head. Eyes widening, Thomas knocked the gun out of his friend's hand and pushed Newt back off him. "Newt, stop!" His voice was hoarse...terrified. Newt looked hardly recognisable, his face nearly corpse-white and black saliva covering his entire chin.

Growling like a rabid animal, Newt through himself at Thomas, who sidestepped, allowing Newt to stumble. The other boy quickly regained his balance and turned to rush at Thomas again, hands outstretched like claws.

Thomas ducked out of the way, his eyes stinging and watering from the thick, acrid smoke that filled the air. His gaze darted around. Where was Minho? They needed the serum. Even if it only bought Newt a little bit of time...

Thomas threw himself to the side as Newt lunged at him, but the other boy followed his movement, knocking Tomas to the ground and straddling him once more. This time, he grabbed a jagged length of pipe and began to force it down towards Thomas, pushing it through his shirt, piercing his skin.

Gasping at the sharp pain, Thomas grabbed the other boy's wrist, wincing at the clammy, almost slimy feel of the skin. "Newt, please," he gasped out. "This isn't you...hold on. You have to hold on. Minho's coming back!" He stared up into Newt's eyes, no longer able to see any whites through the black that had filled them. Could Newt even see him anymore?

Newt blinked, staring down at Thomas, comprehension dawning in his eyes as he dropped the pipe and scrambled off him. "I'm sorry, Tommy..." he whispered.

Thomas winced, pushing himself up to standing position. He was hurting, both inside and out...and the worst pain was seeing what the Flare was doing to his best friend.

Newt stood frozen, head bowed, breathing in shallow breaths that sounded like even that simple act hurt. "I love you, Tommy," he whispered.

"What?" Thomas whispered.

"I love you." Newt raised his eyes to his face. "Why do you think I followed you all the way here? I didn't want to be separated from you." He smiled, but there was no humour in it and the same black slime was staining his teeth. "I wasn't going to tell you. Bow out gracefully. But it's too late now, Tommy. It's the end of the line for me, mate."

"No." Thomas shook his head. "We've been through this from the start, Newt. You're my best friend. I..." His voice trailed off. It was like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. Even Teresa's betrayal hadn't hurt nearly as bad as this.

"It's okay, Thomas. I was never in the running anyway. And now you don't need to worry. You're free of me." Newt's eyes glazed over and he lunged at Thomas again.

The only way to stop them was by killing them, but Thomas couldn't do that. Seeing Newt like this...it was like every bad thing he'd ever experienced had piled on him at once. He didn't jump out of the way. He stepped forward to meet Newt, wrapping his arms around the other boy.

Newt began to struggle, hitting out at Thomas and screeching like a wild animal. Taking a deep breath, Thomas pulled them both to the ground, tightening his hold on the other boy. "You've just gotta hold on, Newt," he whispered. "This isn't you. Just hold on until Minho gets here. Please."

Newt didn't respond verbally, but began struggling and fighting, pulling against Thomas' grip. He got one hand free and punched Thomas in the chest, right over where he'd stabbed him.

Thomas winced, but grabbed tighter onto Newt, pressing his face into the other boy's neck. "Please, Newt," he whispered. Tears filled his eyes and he clung tightly. "I left it too long. I'm sorry, Newt. I love you too. I love you," he repeated. Saying that should have made him happy. He should have been able to kiss and hold onto Newt...not holding him to stop the boy he loved from trying to kill either him or himself. All admitting his feelings did was fill him with despair.

The sound of footsteps brought Thomas' gaze up to see Brenda standing there. His eyes were drawn immediately to the vial she held in her hand. He could see the blue sheen from where he knelt, hand cupping the back of Newt's head; his other arm wrapped tight around the other boy's body, holding Newt tightly against him.

Brenda turned wide, hurt-filled eyes onto Thomas. He would have apologised to her, but Newt was shaking and growling and he didn't know how long they had until the point of no return. He let go of Newt's head and held his hand out to her. "I'm sorry, but please..."

For a moment, he thought she'd turn tail and run, taking away Newt's only hope. But she swallowed, closed her eyes for a second and then walked over, putting the vial into Thomas' hand.

There was a syringe already attached to the vial and Thomas wasted no time drawing out the contents. Brenda dropped to her knees on the other side of Newt and she grabbed one of his arms, stretching it out and pushing the sleeve up to expose skin.

"I'm sorry, Newt," Thomas muttered. "I don't have time to be gentle." He stabbed the syringe into the other boy's arm, depressing the plunger and letting the contents get injected into Newt's bloodstream.

Newt's body began to shake and Thomas quickly handed the vial back to Brenda, wrapping his arms tightly around the other boy and stroking his head. "Please work," he muttered. "Please come back to me, Newt...I need you..." He didn't care that Brenda was there and listening. All he wanted was Newt back. He wrapped his arms around Newt's body, kissing the blond hair. "I love you," he whispered, tears beginning to trickle down his cheeks.

Brenda stood up and backed away, her eyes still filled with hurt. Thomas wished he hadn't hurt her, but he was too relieved that he'd got the serum in time. He rocked Newt in his arms, kissing his head, glancing up as Minho and Frypan ran to join them. "It's okay," he said softly. "It was in time. Just in time."

Newt's body was still shaking, but as Thomas stood them both up, he was relieved that the other boy was at least steady on his feet. He took hold of the boy's hand and squeezed it gently, unable to keep from touching Newt. "Are the kids safe?" he asked the other two boys.

"Jorge's waiting for us. We'd better go." Brenda quickly started walking away, ducking debris and walking around the flames.

"She's not happy," Newt mumbled.

Thomas squeezed his hand, but didn't respond. He'd picked Newt. The other boy was his heart. The physical pain was nothing compared to how much facing having to lose him had hurt. For a second, he thought about going to retrieve Teresa...but she'd made her choice. And he'd made his.

He didn't have any regrets.

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"I don't remember if I ever saw the sea before. Do you?"

Thomas looked down at Newt, laying sprawled with his head in his lap. Giving his own blood to the boy he loved had worked and now Newt was entirely free of the infection. Thomas stroked the blond hair; leaned down to press his lips against Newt's. "I don't think any of us got to see it before," he whispered. "I'm glad we're seeing it together."

Newt smiled and arched up so he could deepen the kiss, letting his hand press against Thomas' chest. "That's a bit corny, mate."

"You can let me have that one, right?" Thomas laced his fingers through Newt's, pulling his hand away. "Stop beating yourself up. I'm fine."

Newt sighed, his eyes shadowing with guilt. "I stabbed you, Tommy. I attacked you. I mean, I also told you I loved you...which, while not the best timing, actually did work out. But that's the only good thing that came from what I did." He reached up, wrapping his arms around Thomas' waist. "I'm really sorry, Tommy."

Thomas wrapped his arms around Newt. It was a little awkward, due to the position they were in, but he wanted to touch and hold the other boy. He pressed another kiss to Newt's lips, cupping his cheek and thumb gently stroking down over his neck.

"I'm still sorry," Newt whispered against his lips. "I hurt you. I never wanted to do that."

"You weren't yourself. I know you wouldn't have attacked me if the Flare hadn't consumed you."

"That doesn't stop me feeling guilty, mate," Newt admitted.

Thomas stroked Newt's cheek and then slid his hands under Newt's back. He carefully rolled the other boy over onto his stomach, draping Newt across his knees. He slid his hand up under the other boy's shirt, rubbing his bare back.

Newt sighed, relaxing over Thomas' knees. "You think we have enough privacy here?"

"It's better than where were before. At least we're safe here. I've got you." Thomas gently pushed Newt's pants down to his knees, taking the underwear down to just above his pants. But he couldn't help but stroke over the other boy's bare backside. "I love you."

"Do you regret it? Choosing me?" Newt asked.

"Not even a little." Thomas lifted his hand and brought it down in a firm smack on Newt's right cheek. He paused to gently rub the slightly pink mark left by his palm and then repeated the smack on his left. He rubbed again and then delivered several harder smacks in quick succession before he paused again to start rubbing.

"Mm..." Newt sighed and sprawled completely over Thomas' lap, wiggling his backside a little.

Thomas delivered several more smacks, this time with a bit more force behind them, and then began rubbing again, feeling the slight warmth coming off Newt's backside.

"I don't think I'm supposed to be enjoying this, Tommy."

Thomas shifted slightly, adjusting himself so that he was more comfortable, and gently smacked all over Newt's bottom before he paused to begin rubbing the other boy's backside again. "It's not a punishment. You didn't have any control over your actions. I don't blame you."

"Maybe you should," Newt murmured, wriggling slightly again.

Thomas slapped a bit harder and Newt jumped. He rubbed and then smacked again, tracing the pink marks with a finger. "It ripped me apart to see you like that. I'm just...so grateful you were able to hold on long enough for me to get the serum into you."

"I held on for you, Tommy," Newt replied. "You begged me to come back and...I...somehow I heard you. You let me hold on. I wouldn't have made it otherwise. I love you."

Thomas gently stroked Newt's backside and felt the other boy shudder a little. "I love you." His voice was low and intense. "And I chose you. But I think you chose me too." He swatted a couple more times and then rolled Newt back over, leaning over to hug him tightly. And, hey, if you need to be punished, I can turn you back over and do the spanking again. Harder. No rubbing."

Newt looked up and then arched his head up, kissing Thomas hard and deeply. "I don't think a real punishment's gonna do any good right now," he commented. "But maybe later? When I don't need you for something else?"

Thomas brought Newt up onto his lap and kissed him again, much harder, before he kissed the other boy's neck. "So what do you want to do right now?"

"I think I have a few ideas. But we need to be wearing less clothes for those." Newt pushed down on Thomas, easing him down onto the mattress, and straddled him. But this time, it was so they could kiss hard and passionately.

The End