Shuck it [ minho fanfiction ; the maze runner ]

SHUCK FACE - Shuck caught the flu

<<published 30•oct•2014>>

A/N:
Brief make out scene so if you're uncomfortable or deem yourself too young, please don't read this. It's very short and there isn't much but still. Just to let you know :)

*chapter 3*

[It has been a few months since you've entered the maze and you and Minho have become closer than you've ever imagined]

"Drink up." Minho takes your slim hand in his gentle, calloused one, placing the wooden bowl of soup in your palm, dark eyes shadowed as he stares at you. "This is strong stuff. You'll be alright in a day. Just rest, drink soup, and enjoy a day of not having to gather fertiliser from the woods."

"I swear, I caught it from the fertiliser I scooped up." You mutter. "That stuff's foul. You guys should just potty train the animals to go klunk in the garden instead of getting someone to go into the woods to get it."

"That's a great idea." Minho eyes you, scoffing, tone oozing sarcasm. He removes his hand from the underneath of yours, and you can't help but feel a little wave of disappointment. And there you thought he was flirting with you. "Lets just let them trample all over the garden and kill all the plants in the meanwhile. Fertiliser is, you know, for living plants?"

You scowl, bringing the bowl up to your lips. "Well it's a legit idea. Clearly better than getting the poor old newbie to risk her life stumbling around in a foreign place full of trees that look the same with the constant fear of getting lost."

"Y'know," Minho runs a hand through his deliciously attractive hair. It's soft and spiked up in front in the most natural of ways. This is definitely a boy blessed with all the attributes others envy. Perfect hair, perfect face, perfect mouth and smile, wonderfully fit, lean body corded with muscles in all the right places... "There's actually this new thing. It's called a sense of direction."

This time his hand comes down to rest on your knee. Through the thin fabric of your jeans, you can feel his warmth on your skin, and the touch sends a trail of pricklies up your leg and around to your back and neck. It doesn't take a genius to figure out you're blushing. You hope Minho will think you're red because you're sick or something.

You take a big sip of the soup and almost spew it out on Minho. "EW!" You cry, "WHAT THE SHUCK IS THIS?"

"It's wild herbs boiled into broth and mixed with radish. Gally's recipe. It's repulsive but it works a charm. So finish it, shuck face." Minho smirks, clearly enjoying watching your reaction.

You almost smile at the phrase shuck face. He uses it on you so much that it's become an endearment.

My pretty little shuck face. Stupid shuck face. This shuck face is a piece of klunk. You're the shuckiest shuck-faced shuck there ever was.

You take another laboured sip, and then another, focusing on the feeling of Minho's thumb tracing circles on your knee instead of the bitterness of the broth. "I think this'll make me even more sick. I feel like gagging now, it tastes like klunk!"

"Quit whining, slinthead. Drink and swallow."

"Yuck."

"Look, d'you wanna get well or not?" Minho cocks his head.

"Yeah yeah, Mr Doctor. Now shut up and let me drink in peace." You glare in misery at the repulsive greenish brown liquid sloshing around in the wooden bowl. "This is gross."

There's a sort of silence for a few seconds, only broken by soft sounds of you slurping up the soup.

Then Minho breaks it by clearing his throat. "So... What's the deal with you and Thomas?"