otp: stayed awake and stared at you so i wouldn't lose my mind

I feel the love and I feel it burn …

anonymous asked:

so, different anon, and I know this was a couple days ago, but I was going through the tag and. pls share your thoughts about what happens when Minho finds out about Newt. I've been thinking about this a lot anD I WANT TO KNOW.

Oh wow thank you so much for asking uwu I’M ALWAYS UP FOR TALKING ABOUT THOMINHO

Okay so:

  • They don’t mention Newt for the first month or two. But the guilt eats away at Thomas every day. Newt’s on his mind a lot, and he sees him everywhere, you know? Sees him in the blonde kids running around paradise, clinging to the legs of some of the older people there- most of the kids are orphans, so pretty much everyone takes care of them. He always sees Newt. Glimpses. Like Newt’s a ghost that’s haunting him. A few times he found himself calling out Newt’s name, running towards these flashes. It’s not him. It’s never him.
  • And Thomas knows Minho’s dealing in his own way- he sees Minho’s bloody knuckles that only seem to show up when Thomas leaves to shower or something- they hardly leave each other’s sides, so Thomas knows Minho’s hands weren’t bruised before. “What’re you doing, Min?” Thomas asks, brushing his thumb over Minho’s knuckles. “I see him- everywhere,” Minho mumbles, staring at the floor because this isn’t something he does- he’s one of the leaders here, he’s got to be strong. But this- it’s Thomas. So maybe it’s okay. “I see Newt and I miss him, fuck-” Minho’s voice cracks and Thomas pulls him into a hug. They clutch at each other desperately, like they’re drowning and the other is the air they seek. “It’s okay Min,” Thomas says, voice shaky. “I see him too. God, I see him too.”
  • After that it’s okay to talk about Newt- it starts with just brief mentions. (“Newt would’ve liked this,” Minho says, staring at the cheese smothered lasagna that Frypan whipped up. “He liked cheese a lot. Stupid shank kept stealing cheese of my plate back in the Glade.” Thomas smiles and grips Minho’s hand under the table.) but they mention Newt more and more after that. When the two of them make it official, they think talk about him even more. (“He was so fucking kind. Too kind,” Thomas’ head is in Minho’s lap as they lounge together on their joined beds. “Made me feel like an asshole, y'know?” Minho snorts, his fingers brushing absently through Thomas’ hair. “You’re tellin’ me. Ain’t a day that went by I didn’t feel like that shank was too kind for his own good. Always takin’ care of everyone. Always takin’ care of-” “Of us,” Thomas says softly. “Yeah,” Minho whispers. “Even when we didn’t need it.” It’s quiet after that, and as Minho stroke his hair, Thomas stares at his hands. It doesn’t matter how many times he washes them. Doesn’t matter how many times Minho kisses his finger tips. They’ll always, always be stained, dripping with Newt’s blood.)
  • It finally happens a few days after that. The guilt’s been burning like acid through Thomas, corroding at his insides, slashing slowly at his veins, for months.. Minho’s been noticing him more on edge recently, and he corners Thomas in their room one day. “Dude, what’s up with you?” Minho demands. He looks angry, betrayed, even. “You can’t walk around acting like someone killed your dog, man, get over it. What’s eating you?” Thomas shakes his head because he can’t tell Minho. He can’t. He can’t lose Minho too. “I’m fine,” he says, but his insides feel like they’re burning. Minho’s hands, which were clenched into fists at his sides, reach up and shove Thomas’ shoulders against a wall. “Don’t lie to me,” Min spits. “It’s insulting. Fuck, you think I don’t know you, Thomas? Think I don’t fucking notice you moping around like someone killed your puppy? There ain’t a single person in this place that knows you better than me.” “Minho-” “Thomas. Tell me.”
  • One of Minho’s hands reaches up to cup Thomas’ cheek, guides his face until their eyes lock. Minho’s eyes and dark brown and burning into his, and Thomas feels like he’s going to be sick. He leans into Minho’s touch, because he knows after this Minho will never even touch him like this again. “I love you, Min,” Thomas says desperately. “I need you to know that.” Minho grins for a moment. “You think I don’t know that? Then you’re dumber than you look. Now tell me.” “Min-” “Tell me.” “I killed Newt.” Minho’s hand drops from Thomas’ face like he’s been burned, and he stumbled backwards. “That’s a sick joke,” Minho snaps. “I shot him. He was begging me to-” “SHUT UP.” But Thomas can’t. Everything he was hiding for months comes pouring out like a torrent. “He told me about his limp, how he tried to kill himself, and he- God, Min, he begged me to do it, I’m sorry-”
  • And that’s when Minho’s fist collides with Thomas’ face. He doesn’t see it coming, and he collapses to the floor. Before he can push himself up, Minho’s on him, straddling him, his fists slamming into Thomas’ face, his chest, his stomach, again and again. “You fucking murderer,” Minho snarls. “I trusted you. I TRUSTED YOU, THOMAS.” And Thomas, Thomas just lies there as Minho hits him again and again. He can taste blood in his mouth, and he knows he nose is bloody, but he deserves this, doesn’t he, he- he killed Newt. “I trusted you,” Minho whispers, tears streaming down his face. He looks Thomas in the eyes, and Thomas reaches up to wipe the tears on Minho’s face away, but Minho gets up, steps away from Thomas. “Minho-” “Don’t ever speak to me again. We’re done. I fucking hate you.” His voice is laced with venom, and he storms out of the room. Thomas watches him go with tears in his eyes. He knows things will never be the same. Never.
  • It’s Gally who finds Thomas curled up into a ball, nose still bloody and bruises decorating his skin. The last marks Minho will ever leave on his Thomas’ body. Gally helps him walk to the medical hut, stays with him the whole time. “I killed Newt,” Thomas says to Gally after he offers to listen. “He begged me to. So I shot him.” Gally pats Thomas’ back. “Minho’s a hotheaded asshole, but he’ll forgive you. And, Thomas,” Gally says seriously. “You did the right thing. Newt and I never got along, but he didn’t deserve to lose his mind. It was for the best. You helped him as best as you could.” And the fact that it’s Gally saying this to Thomas makes him cry all over again.
  • But Minho doesn’t forgive Thomas as fast as Thomas hopes. He never goes back to their room- when Thomas is back from the medical hut, Minho’s already cleared his stuff out, separated their beds. He sees Minho around, but Minho never says a single word to him, no matter how hard he tries. Looks through him, like Thomas isn’t even there. “Minho,” Thomas tries again one day, two months after Minho moved out of their room, desperate to get his best friend back even if they aren’t boyfriends anymore. “Minho, I’m sorry.” Minho finally looks him in the eye. “Jesus, Thomas,” Minho says, and his voice is so tired. There was a thunderstorm the night before, and Minho can never sleep during them, not without Thomas by his side. “I need more time. Just fuck off and leave me alone.” He pretends not to hear Thomas starting to cry as he leaves. And he misses Thomas too. God, he misses Thomas so fucking much. But Thomas killed Newt and didn’t tell Minho for months. And he doesn’t know how to forgive that.
  • It happens a month later. In Thomas’ defense, he didn’t know he was allergic to peanuts. The peanut butter sandwiches taste pretty good until Thomas’ throat starts to close up. He remembers getting up, stumbling to one of the medics for help, but falling to his knees, clawing at his neck for air. Gally and Brenda are next to him, prying his hands off his neck, pinning them down so he can’t hurt himself. “Can’t breathe- I can’t-” “Thomas-” and, God, it’s Minho. Everyone is yelling, trying to get Thomas help, but it’s Minho’s voice he focuses on. “Thomas don’t you dare fucking leave me too, I swear-” he wants to say “I won’t, Min, I love you,” but black spots dance in his vision and he can’t get anymore air in his throat. Minho comes into view, kneeling over Thomas, his hand on Thomas’ face. “Stay awake,” Minho instructs, but Thomas is already going limp, no longer pushing up against Gally and Brenda’s hold. He blacks out staring into Minho’s eyes, and Minho yells his name, but he can barely hear it. I’m sorry, Min. I’m sorry.