today had been a particularly hot day outside - which you found odd, as the weather usually never changed. thankfully for you, you weren't one of the many poor gladers stuck with having to work their asses of with the sun making their jobs even harder. you weren't a track-hoe, nor a builder, nor a runner. nor a slicer.

working in the kitchen felt like heaven, with how chilly it was in there in comparison to how oven-like it was outside.

and so the day went on, hotter than it had ever been in those three entire years you've spent in the glade so far. at one point, some of the gladers had decided to take their shirts off - it was quite the sight, you had to admit - and headed over to the kitchen to grab something to drink.

and apparently, along those shanks was one certain track-hoe who was also the second-in-command. holy hell.

there he was, dirty blond hair put up into a half-up half-down hairstyle, discarded shirt lazily thrown over his shoulder, dirt smeared across his left cheek from working in the gardens the entire day.

was this what gay panic felt like? either way, the sight of the blond was doing something to you. something to do with your sexuality, which you were currently questioning.

"pick up your jaw, ya horn dog. you're drooling all over the ground," you heard someone say. you weren't sure whether or not to be relieved when it was just minho.

"dude, shut up."

the keeper of the runners put his hands up defensively. "hey! i'm not the one checking out blondie over there. i have to admit, tho, those tits are nice."

once he mentioned his tits, you eyed newt's sweat-glistening chest. "indeed they are," you agreed.

"gay," he accused.

"okay, hair gel obsessed freak."

"homosexual attracted to blond hunks."

this would've continued, but the blond hunk in question was heading your way. immediately, you and the runner both shut up.

"how're y'all survivin' in this heat?" newt reached for the canteen in his pocket, uncapped it, and glanced at the both of you. "bloody hot out there in the gardens."