a/n: 2014 dylan o’brien you are so dear to me. maze runner fandom CAN YOU HEAR ME? anyways. you and thomas are cuties together.
tmr!thomas x reader, 703 words ˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You find Thomas residing in one of the ships main areas.
It’s a place unanimously coined for map-considering and plan-making, and in the last six months, you’ve all spent countless sleepless nights in its confines. The mission to rescue Minho from WCKD is only days away, and Thomas comes in here to rove over everything more and more as the date grows closer.
You couldn’t blame him for being nervous if you tried. You’ve been planning this rescue mission for half a year, and though it’s solid, anything could go wrong.
But it doesn’t matter. It’s now or never, all or nothing. Thomas just hopes it’s enough.
His back is to you as you approach, and the blue shirt he adorns is only a shade darker than the long-sleeved one worn in the maze. It all seems distant, now. Like both the maze and the two people you were inside of it existed a lifetime ago.
It sure feels like you’ve known each other for that long. A lifetime.
Thomas proves it when he’s brought out of his head by your footsteps and he doesn’t have to look to see who it is. He turns as you approach, concentrated expression crumbling into something much softer at the sight of you.
“Hi,” you smile up at him. It makes his heart do that funny flutter, and when you move to stand into the little pocket of his side, his hand comes to rest on the small of your back.
Soothing. The heat of it presses past your shirt, radiating through the rest of your skin and it makes you dizzy. You push through, glancing between the strewn about papers on the table and him.
“No,” A shake of his head. “No, just… making sure.”
His voice takes on that very special tone reserved only for you. You’re not sure if he does it on purpose, but you’ll never bring it up. Because you really, really don’t want him to stop using it.
You hum, gaze shifting onto a map of WCKD’s train routes; Though you seem more interested in Thomas (He relishes in it). “How long’ve you been in here?”
“Uh,” He checks his watch, doing a poor job of hiding his surprise when seeing the time. His voice rises in pitch, and it tells on him. “Not that long.”
You nudge him with your hip. “You should get some sun. Get something to eat.”
“Well, you should eat again.”
“Okay, slim it,” he says, and a laugh escapes him before he registers it. It’s been a while since he’s done that — and it feels good. It feels good that someone worries about him, too.
He doesn’t mind worrying for everyone else, but sometimes it all piles up. Alby. Chuck. Teresa. It’s easy — in the midst of it all — to feel alone. He feels a surge of affection for you, remembering that you’re here. That you’ve got his back.
He slings an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer and kisses your hair. “Thanks for checking on me.”
Before you can think of a response he checks his watch again, this time with his brows furrowing at it. It morphs his expression into something that makes him look unreasonably pretty. You want to reach your thumb to smooth out the crease that’s formed between them. “Hey, don’t you have welding practice with Newt?”
You smile at him again — this time for knowing your schedule. “Yeah, I do. You should come, Thomas.”
Something familiar licks up his spine at your mention of his name. It’s not a nickname, and it’s not tangibly different from how anyone else says it; But heat pools in his belly all the same. Maybe it’s part of why he agrees so quickly.
“Yeah, okay. I will. You go ahead though, I’ll catch up.”
You don’t try and hide you’re glad he’s going, and it makes his heart do that funny thing again. A playful twinkle dances in your eyes. He’s glad to see it.
“You better.” You throw obvious sarcasm on your sentence. “Be quick, Greenie.”
A twitch of his lips. He nudges your hip with his own. “Get outta here.”
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