took me a few days to see this, but thanks for the ask!! prompts post here. we'll see if i can keep this 250 words or less : )
1: "Who exactly put you in charge? So I know where to file the complaint."
Gally's not going to say he's thriving, but busy hands are tired hands, and he's sleeping better here than he has since the Right Arm rescued him.
So far, he hasn't really had to work with the other surviving Gladers. They're around, and he's not avoiding them; they all have their own stuff to do.
There's a lot of work to do, to keep them all alive, to make sure they have food and water and shelter, and Gally's glad to do it, as long as it keeps him from having nightmares.
"Who exactly put you in charge?" One of the two Gladers Gally has been actively avoiding. Great. "So I know where to file the complaint."
"You did, shank. Get your memories wiped again?" He lands on the wrong side of sour to be teasing, but it's not like Minho has ever let that get to him before.
"Well, it's working for you." Minho leans against the half-finished wall. "And me, for that matter."
"What, the Greenie get tired of you already?"
"His name is Thomas." Minho doesn't play about Thomas, and Gally just wants to figure out why it's never been that way with him. Thomas shows up, and Minho all but drops him for this scrawny new kid who-
Who got them out. Who survived the Scorch, and being shot, and went back to WCKD willingly.
Yeah, Gally gets it. He just wishes it hadn't been him who got left behind.
"You've barely said a word to me since we got here."
"Figured you were better off without me."
"Since when?" Gally doesn't like the way Minho's watching him. "You remember how things were. You pulled away first, you don't get to blame me."
He'd pulled away because he'd been terrified of what he'd seen in the Changing, of his own mind, and as much as he'd wanted to be alone, he'd also wanted Minho to pull him back in.
But he hadn't known how to say it, and Thomas had shown up, and whatever pieces of Gally-and-Minho that were left had been ground to dust in his footsteps.
The spear might have done some of that, too, but Gally really can't blame Minho for that one. Chuck was an annoying little kid, but Gally hadn't wanted him dead.
Minho stares at him for another minute or so, and when he turns around, Gally thinks he's going to leave.
"Put me to work, shank, or I'll just pick something and do it."
"You don't even know what you're doing."
"Never stopped me before." Minho winks at him, like they still do that, and picks up a saw.
"You're going to take your fingers off, shank, put that down."
"If that's what it takes to get you to talk to me. Show me where to cut." Gally has to get close to take the saw. And if Minho laces their fingers together and won't let go, well, Gally allows it because he's a klunkhead who would knock down one of their projects if left unsupervised.
No matter what Frypan has to say about it.
goal wc: 250 or less
actual wc: 516
Thomas’s nerves are almost cute, if they weren’t so worrying. He’s more than willing to hold their hands in public, if he doesn’t have the sling on, but he’s clearly fretting over everything else.
“Do you think he knows we want to kiss him?” Gally asks when Thomas is laughing with Sonya across the fire.
“I think that’s the problem.” Minho watches Thomas’s face.
“What, he doesn’t want to kiss us?”
“More like he’s not sure how.” Minho’s pretty sure Thomas kissed Teresa a few times, and maybe Brenda, but he doesn’t know. It’s not exactly the kind of thing Thomas would have told him about. He doesn’t really want Thomas to tell him about it.
“It’s kissing, it’s not that hard.” Gally scoffs a little.
“Just because we had sex in the Glade doesn’t mean he did.” Minho points out, and he can see when that clicks for Gally.
“We have to talk about feelings again, don’t we?”
When did Minho become the one who knows that first?
… Actually, he doesn’t want an answer to that.
“Yeah.”
“Thomas wants to go into the forest.” Gally changes the subject.
“No.” It hasn’t been that long since he had a panic attack sitting under one tree, he’s not allowed to go into the forest.
finish on ao3 or continue reading - if you like the fic, please reblog!!
“He’s been talking about it all week. He keeps creating signs for it while he’s teaching me. He wants to go together, but not for long.”
This is a fight Minho’s going to lose, he already knows it. Gally looks like he’s ready to say yes, he probably offered to tell him so Thomas wouldn’t have to.
“Why? He can hardly look at it without panicking.”
“He thinks he needs to get over it. I know he’s said something to Sonya. I think he’ll just follow her in if we don’t go.”
“Well, at least he’s not planning on going alone.”
“So we’re doing it, then?”
“Maybe this is something we should talk to Jamie about— together, not individually.” is what Minho settles on saying, because he really doesn’t know.. He hates the idea, he doesn’t want Thomas anywhere near that forest and he thinks it’s going to end very badly.
But Thomas is a stubborn shank whose two settings of ‘dealing with things’ involve ignoring them or charging into them headfirst.
“Why Jamie?”
“Because she might be able to explain why it would be helpful, or why it’s a really bad idea and we shouldn’t do it. I know he talks to her about it one-on-one, but for something we do together we need to talk to her together.”
“He’s been a lot better lately, Minho. He’s been able to eat more, he’s sitting near the tree right now and not panicking, the sling is just about off for good. If he wants to try this, why wouldn’t we help him?”
“I’m not saying we wouldn’t,” he pauses, trying to get his thoughts together. “I’m worried, Gally. If this is too much, too soon, it could be bad.”
The two weeks of nearly entirely signing after the initial tree panic attack prove that very well. Sure, it’s better now, but only signing all the time and having to rely on Minho and Frypan to translate frustrates Thomas.
He likes to get his point across, and since no one had known about their sign language before, no one had learned it.
“What else are we supposed to do, make him feel like he has to be afraid of the forest for the rest of his life?” Gally’s worried too, he can tell— and not just about Thomas. “Minho, you want to protect him, we both do. He doesn’t want to be protected from this.”
And the little kids don’t want to be protected from running into the fire pits, but that doesn’t mean it should be allowed.
“That’s different, Min. The little kids don’t know better. We’re all nearly adults, might as well be, with what we’ve been through. Thomas has talked to Jamie about this, he’s been thinking about it for a while. He knows it might be a bad idea.”
“I still think it’s a bad idea.” Minho crosses his arms over his chest, but he knows Gally is right. “I still want all three of us to sit down and actually talk about it, with Jamie or not.”
It probably won’t be for a very long time, maybe less than an hour at first, but he wants to be prepared for everything.
Maybe Thomas will step into the forest and realize he’s not scared of it at all now. Great! Probably not going to happen, but great.
Maybe he’ll immediately have a panic attack. Also probably not the most likely option, not now that he’s actually been working though it with Jamie.
No, they’ll go in, fit a spot, sit and talk for a while. Thomas’s anxiety will build to the point where he can’t keep it hidden anymore, and they’ll leave before it gets worse.
Thomas will want to do it again, so they’ll go back until he’s happy with how long it takes for him to reach peak anxiety levels.
Minho doesn’t want him to do that to himself.
“Gally, this is going to take forever.” Minho realizes. “He’s going to want to keep going back until he can be in there for hours, if not days, without panicking.”
“So we’ll go with him, every time.” Gally says, like it’s as easy as that. “Until he’s okay with it.”
They can do that. Even though Minho’s going to hate every minute of it.
They can’t do this.
They’ve been taking it very slowly with the exposure therapy, as Jamie calls it. Once a week at most, for a few minutes at a time, a little longer each week.
Minho really wishes Thomas would wait.
This is the fifth week, and it’s been twenty minutes. Thomas is shaking already, but he doesn’t want to leave.
He never wants to leave.
“Minho, if he thinks he can handle it, let him.” Gally pulls him back a little. “He wants to try. We have to let him.”
“He’s shaking, Gally.”
“It’s cold. He’s a dumbass wearing shorts and a t-shirt.” Gally raises his voice a little, so Thomas can hear him teasing. Thomas glances back at them and rolls his eyes.
He looks… okay. He’s shaking, but his face is relaxed, not like he’s scared at all.
Maybe it’s not that bad.
“Who do you think is out hunting today?”
“It’s Rosa’s group’s turn!” Thomas calls back. He moves back to stand by them, leaning into Gally’s side.
Gally is kind of their personal space heater sometimes. He complains about it, but Minho knows he doesn’t really care.
“What do you think they’ll find?”
“I don’t know. I saw a moose.”
They’ve heard that a million times. Thomas wants to take them out to see it, but even Jamie, as encouraging as she is about him wanting to learn how to not be afraid of the forest anymore, has nipped that in the bud.
No week-long trips into the forest for a long time for them.
Minho’s okay with that. He doesn’t really like it here either, what with the tree falling on them and everything.
Wait, is Thomas trying to get them over their lingering fears of the forest too?
Damn.
That’s more tricky than he thought Thomas would pull on them.
(Other people, absolutely. Them? Thomas isn’t supposed to do it to them. But that’s Thomas for you. )
“Minho, you’re the one overthinking things now.” Thomas pokes him lightly. He’s smiling faintly when Minho looks over at him.
“So what if I am, shuckface? You don’t have a monopoly on overthinking things.”
“No, but it’s a little weird to watch someone else do it.”
“Then don’t look at me, I guess.”
“Where’s the fun in not looking at you?” Thomas pouts, exaggerated. “Gally, can I share your jacket?”
“I should tell you no, because you’re the dumbass here. But yes.” Minho can’t help but laugh at them as they try to figure out how to get arranged so Thomas will actually be warm without smothering him.
“Are you sure you don’t want help?”
“We’ll figure it out, thanks though, Minho.” Thomas answers, focused on the task at hand.
It’s hard not to laugh a little at Thomas as he tries to squeeze into Gally’s jacket. He’s biting his lip, completely focused, and he’s not thinking about being in the forest at all.
Minho’s laughing too, and his shoulders have dropped a little. He won’t say anything, but he doesn’t like the forest too much either.
If Gally could freeze time, this is one of the spots he’d do it in. Just linger here, in this moment, where they’re all laughing and joking around, despite everything.
Despite the fact that he knows Thomas chose this spot because it’s not far from where Harriet found him.
He doesn’t want to be anywhere where they’re not happy, not again. They don’t need more sadness in their lives.
“Gally, you’re not even trying to help!” Thomas complains, pouting at him.
“I think it’s hopeless, Thomas. You can have my jacket instead.” Minho throws an arm around Thomas’s shoulders.
“But Gally’s already warm.”
“And I’m not?” Thomas pulls away a little, just enough to put Minho’s jacket on. Gally’s not expecting him to grab his hand as he steps back.
“Okay, I think that’s enough for the day.” Thomas says.
“You’re feeling okay?” Minho asks, dropping the smile.
“I feel fine, but I’m cold. I want to bully you two into building a fire in the cabin and sit in bed all day and read.”
“Just for that, you can bring in all the wood from outside in your shorts and t-shirt.” he threatens, but he already knows he won’t go through it.
“And maybe I wanted to sit in bed and read. What are you going to do then?” Minho’s hand brushes his arm lightly. Gally can’t tell if it’s intentional or not.
“Read things out loud to you? Then you’ll fall asleep and I can read whatever I want.” Thomas raises his eyebrows at Minho, like it should be obvious.
“What if I want to read something, Thomas?”
“You don’t care what I read, as long as I read it out loud.” Thomas squeezes his hand softly, and. Yeah. It’s true. He doesn’t care.
He’s not much of a reader on his own, anyway. It’s just better when Thomas reads to him. Or Minho, on the rare occasion he decides that it’s his turn.
“So, a fire, reading, and cuddles? Sounds like a good day to me.”
“We can’t forget lunch.”
“I guess you can go and get it for us then, Minho. Thanks for offering!” Thomas manages to say it with a straight face, like Gally’s not cracking up next to him.
“That was not an offer, shuckface. That was a reminder that we need to eat.”
“Sounded like an offer to me, Minho.” Gally’s still grinning, which ruins the effect a little.
“The both of you? Really? I guess if all I’m good for is getting lunch I might as well leave you both!” Minho plays into the part, hand on his chest and everything.
“You’re the one who’s not letting go of me, so if you want to do that, then you can.”
“Yeah, Minho, if you’re really going to leave you have to let go of Thomas first.”
“He’s got my jacket!”
“You can let go of me and get your jacket back.”
“Well, maybe I will!”
He doesn’t, though, and Gally knows he never even considered it.
“Or maybe I’ll just get my jacket back later.”
“You can’t get it back if you can’t find it.” Thomas teases, smiling properly now. “Hey, Gally, cover me?”
“Yeah, of course.” He grabs Minho’s arm where it’s around Thomas’s shoulders, holding him just tightly enough that he can’t get away easily, while Thomas jogs ahead, eventually turning backwards to face them.
“Even if you hide it, I’ll still find it, Thomas!” Minho calls. “Gally, let go of my arm.”
“Are you going to chase him? Because I told him I wouldn’t let you do that.”
“No, but can’t I hold your hand instead, shank?”
“Oh.” Gally slides his hand down Minho’s arm, lacing their fingers together. Thomas has stopped ahead of them, kneeling to look at some plants.
“What are those, Thomas?” he asks when they get a little closer.
“Berries. I don’t think they’re edible though, we don’t have any in the greenhouse.” Thomas shakes his head a little.
His hair’s getting long. Maybe Gally should offer to cut it.
Or not. It might be a nice change.
Gally has to fight to keep his face straight, but Minho’s nudge tells him that he’s not entirely successful on that front.
Thomas manages the walk back, but he’s leaning so heavily on Minho that it might have been better if they’d just carried him.
He’s still only signing.
Gally doesn’t know where that comes from— he hadn’t known Thomas and Minho could sign.
Where would they have learned? Why would they have needed it?
Thomas sits in a chair, eyes never straying from them as they move the two mattresses together.
He still won’t look either of them in the eye, and Gally doesn’t know if that has something to do with the lingering effects of the panic attack or if it’s part of why he’s signing.
Gally knows he doesn’t have the same history with Thomas that Minho does, but he’s never felt it quite this acutely.
Minho seems to know exactly what to do.
He feels… a little useless, to be honest.
Normally any touch during a panic attack will result in someone getting hit.
Minho seems to know how to touch Thomas when things are bad. Gally wishes he knew, too, wishes he could stop feeling like he’s only orbiting around them.
“Thomas,” Minho kneels in front of the chair, making it easier for Thomas to look at his face, “Is it okay if I explain the signing to Gally, or do you want to do that later?”
Thomas goes to raise both hands to sign, only to clearly become frustrated when his bad arm doesn’t cooperate. He signs some letters individually, but Gally’s not sure what they are, and gestures to finish whatever he’s saying.
“Okay, I’ll tell him. Do you want to change?” Thomas nods at that, and Gally would laugh if it weren’t so serious. Thomas almost always wants to wear one of their shirts after a panic attack.
Today, he picks one of Gally’s shirts and a pair of Minho’s pants.
Honestly, he’s not sure Thomas ever really wears his own clothes anymore.
(Not that Gally can blame him. Thomas’s shirts are too tight on him, but Minho’s shirts fit him fine, if a little snug. It’s a nice feeling, and the looks Minho and Thomas give him when he’s wearing one don’t go unnoticed.)
They settle into the bed, Thomas flat on his back in the middle. He usually lays on one side, but that hasn’t been an option recently.
“Gally,” Minho starts, when Thomas’s breathing has mostly evened out. His eyes are closed, but he’s still awake and listening. “The sign language first. I’ve told you a little about the lightning storm, but not everything. Thomas pulled me up, got me out of the storm. He’s the only reason I lived through it.”
Shit.
Gally hadn’t known that.
finish on ao3 or continue reading
If he didn’t know that his role in the Right Arm is one of the biggest reasons they got through all this, one of the reasons they were able to get this far, he’d go back in time and change all his decisions.
“The storm did damage to his ears, too. He didn’t even mention it. Newt had to point out that his ear was bleeding.”
That sounds like something Thomas would do.
“I don’t know how bad the hearing loss was, he never told us if it was all the sound in his left ear or if it was just muffled. He was having trouble with it, though, and he didn’t like being left out of conversations for our next moves. So he and I— and Newt, when he caught on— made up a sign language. Thomas didn’t want anyone to know how bad it was, so Frypan was the only other one who knew any of it, as far as I know.”
“He doesn’t seem to have any trouble now.” Gally runs a hand through Thomas’s hair once, testing the waters. Thomas relaxes a little more, so he keeps doing it.
“WCKD fixed it. He was shot in the Scorch.” Minho taps his own shoulder to indicate where, and Gally thinks about the scar he’d seen on Thomas there. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal at the time.
“It was right before Group B came and took him, actually. They took him in what must have been a Berg and removed the bullet. It was some of the longest days of my life, because I didn’t know where he was or what they were doing to him.”
“They just… fixed it?”
“Yeah. He doesn’t remember anything from up there, they had him drugged the whole time; he was pretty out of it when they brought him back.”
“He really was their main hope, wasn’t he?” Gally whispers, staring at him.
“After a while, yeah. That’s why Janson wanted to cut his shucking brain out.” Minho’s face tightens with anger, though he’s careful to keep too much of it from being in his voice— he’s trying not to scare Thomas.
“Thomas,” Gally murmurs, knowing he’ll hear him, “You can fall asleep. If you have a nightmare, we’ll wake you up.” Thomas shakes his head.
Sometimes, after panic attacks, Thomas won’t sleep for days, because he doesn’t want to get trapped in his mind again.
He doesn’t want to know how long Thomas will try to stay awake after this one.
“The first panic attack I ever saw Thomas have, he passed out.” Minho says, tone way too light to be talking about this. “I didn’t know what to do, and his breathing got like it was tonight. Worse, eventually. He woke up screaming that night and couldn’t talk the next day.”
“This is the only one I’ve seen that was worse than that one.”
And suddenly, Gally understands.
He’d thought, in the midst of things, that maybe it would be kinder of them to let Thomas pass out. Then he wouldn’t be having a panic attack, because he wouldn’t be able to.
He hadn’t been thinking about the aftermath.
“How long will he be trying to stay awake for?”
“At least three days.”
Gally’s had his own share of panic attacks— less so now, because he’s gotten better at catching them before they start or heading them off early— but he never wants to do anything for hours after. He can’t. He’s exhausted.
He’s never understood why Thomas wants to stay awake after. Recently, he’s learned more about the nightmares, but they don’t come every time.
Thomas signs something to Minho, then twists his head to look at Gally.
“He wants to thank you for helping, and for the water.” Minho explains. “And he says if you want to learn, he can teach you something tomorrow.”
“Yeah, Thomas, of course I’d like to learn.”
Why wouldn’t he? He’s still not sure where they stand, dating-wise; they’re certainly not together in the way Sonya and Harriet are together, but they are together. They’re just taking their time in getting there.
“Thomas, I’m not going to tell Gally you’ll be fine without sleep, because you won’t. Gally and I are probably going to talk quietly for a while anyway, if you fall asleep now we’ll definitely be up to wake you from nightmares.”
Gally nods when Thomas looks at him again.
“You can’t stay awake forever, Thomas.”
He signs something, a little more slowly, and Gally focuses on trying to figure out what it is.
“No, Thomas, we’re not going to let you try.” Minho answers.
…He was nowhere close. Maybe next time.
“You can’t teach me sign language if you’re tired, Thomas.” He whispers, and Thomas looks like he’s thinking about this.
After a moment that’s far too long, he nods slowly.
Then he signs out ‘O’ and ‘K’ so Gally can understand him. He pulls Gally’s arm around his waist, over top of his stomach. Minho takes his cue from that and slides his under Thomas.
Minho’s free hand takes the one laying on Thomas, and Gally tries to ignore that it’s only the dim light that keeps Minho from seeing the flush on his face.
He’s had sex with Minho before. Hand-holding shouldn’t make him turn red, dammit!
But this— this is different.
Laying in bed with Thomas, whom he and Minho are both falling in love with, and being tucked close to each other, making sure Thomas feels safe enough to go to sleep, it’s different.
More intimate than sex in the Deadheads, or the map room.
It’s different, because this isn’t just two boys who don’t even really like each other just having sex to have sex.
They trust each other now. They work together, they lead together.
They’ve both been through different hells and come back through it. Maybe they shouldn’t like each other. In the Glade, they hadn’t. In the Glade, they’d never stayed the night.
They’ve slept in the same room (though not usually the same bed) for months.
Gally sometimes misses that, while he’s working, because he got used to talking to Minho everyday, laughing at his stupid jokes and trading stories about their dead friends.
Watching Minho smile, and the way his eyes look when they talk about Thomas (he knows he’s just as bad), or sometimes just whatever was for lunch that day.
Gally knows they’re not at love yet, he and Minho.
But there’s room.
There’s room, and he’s finding it fuller every day.
They think they’re being sneaky, but Thomas is slightly sleep-deprived, not unobservant.
(Okay, maybe he is a little unobservant today, but Minho and Gally have been taking turns finding reasons to check up on him almost every hour. It’s not hard to figure out.)
He’s still not back to speaking the way he normally does, but Frypan is talking enough for the both of them.
Frypan’s good at noticing the little things like that.
“So, Thomas, are your overprotective boyfriends going to actually come talk to you today, or just stare at you and whisper?”
Thomas goes to sign, but the sling stops him, and he sighs.
He keeps forgetting he has it on.
“I mean, I didn’t really ask them to.”
“Yeah, I know, I just think it’s funny.”
“They’re doing it to each other, too.”
“Are they?”
“They don’t realize it, but whoever is checking on me is getting checked on by the other one, a little farther away.”
Frypan laughs, loud enough that Minho and Gally— who are, indeed, whispering together not too far away— look over at them.
Thomas waves and then taps the counter to get Frypan’s attention again. Fry’s name sign— something Frypan had come up with himself, when he found out that they were making themselves a sign language—is distinctive even from far away, and even one-handed he knows they’ll catch at least part of what he means.
“Oh, you did not, Thomas.” Frypan signs back at him, abandoning what’s left of his clean-up work. “I can’t have them starting rumors about me.”
“Well, they’re not going to. They only saw your name sign. But they are either going to leave off or finally come over here.”
“Missing your daily dose of kisses?” Frypan teases, but his expression falters at whatever’s on Thomas’s face. He shrugs it off.
“I don’t know if I’m dating them separately or if we’re all dating each other. We haven’t even talked about dating yet.”
“Shit, Thomas.” That’s a sign Frypan just made up, but Thomas thinks he’s got the meaning right. “And Minho would have to translate almost everything right now?”
Gally’s a quick learner, but with Thomas only speaking when he absolutely has to, he hasn’t had a lot of time to work on signing alone with him. Minho helps, and Gally’s got the basics down now, but they can’t have a conversation the way they need to yet.
Thomas doesn’t really want to, anyway. Not right now. He hasn’t told Gally and Minho, but he thinks they know anyway.
The nightmares and waking up screaming are kind of hard to miss when you’re sharing a bed.
He’s still shaky, the thoughts of the panic attack and the tree and the forest and the almost-dying echoing through his mind, and the lack of sleep isn’t helping with any of that.
“Thomas, do you want to stay and help clean up, or do you feel like going with them right away?” Frypan asks, out loud this time.
When he looks at him, he’s standing right in front of him.
Oh. He zoned out again. Frypan’s probably been trying to get his attention for a few minutes.
“I— ” He looks around. He doesn’t want to leave this whole mess to Fry, but he knows that if he says he wants to go, then Frypan won’t blame him. “I’ll help with what I can.”
“Thanks, Thomas.” He gets his area straightened up— it doesn’t take long, he can’t use most of it with only one arm, and he hasn’t reached his six hours of wearing the sling for the day yet.
“You can go, Thomas.” Frypan tells him, when Minho and Gally finally reach the kitchen. He hasn’t been paying attention to them, but he thinks they might have visited the greenhouse first. He nods, but takes a damp rag to wipe the counter down.
“Oh, do you come here often, Thomas?” Minho’s being a shank again, as usual.
“I work here, asshole!” He drops the rag to sign, laughing a little. “Let me finish up quick.” He finishes up the counter, throwing the rag in the bin.
Thomas signs his goodbye to Frypan, adding a joke they’ve been making all day, and takes Minho’s offered hand as they leave.
To his surprise, he’s not in the middle. Minho is.
Gally’s holding his other hand. Elbow, really, carefully bracing the sling.
Oh.
From the look Frypan sends his way as they pass by the counter, he’s noticed, too.
“Feeling up for lunch with Harriet and Sonya?”
Thomas nods; he can’t answer without letting go of Minho’s hand, and he doesn’t want to do that right now.
Minho solves the problem for him by pulling him closer and wrapping his arm around his waist.
“They plan on eating by the fire pits.” He can feel their eyes on him, watching for his reaction.
It will be the first time he’s seen the tree since his panic attack.
He wants to try.
He wants to see if it’s better, with more people around. More distraction.
He can’t just avoid the tree for the rest of his life.
“Hey, you three!” Sonya waves them down; she’s sitting on Harriet’s lap again. “So, Thomas, you know these sticks were stalking you all morning, right? Want me to take care of that for you?”
Thomas laughs and shakes his head.
“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” In the greenhouse, as always.
He glances at the tree as they sit down, but he doesn’t have time to think about it at all as Harriet jumps in on the teasing.
Despite the fact that he only actually speaks a few sentences aloud the whole time, he’s never cut out of the conversation. He’s shown Sonya and Harriet a few signs before, but not enough to be able to work with for an hour.
They still try, and that’s good enough for him. They’re trying, and they’re learning.
He thinks Frypan might have something to do with that, or maybe Minho is teaching them, but no one will confirm that.
After lunch, he tags along with Sonya. The greenhouse is a different kind of calming than the kitchen is, and while both are good, he just… he needs the greenhouse more right now.
Especially since he can’t go talk to Jamie, because she doesn’t sign.
There are some things Thomas doesn’t think he has words for yet, not in sign.
Things he and Minho haven’t talked about, that they haven’t needed yet but will, eventually.
They skip the fire that night; an hour a day by the tree is good enough for now.
“We need to talk. About…” He doesn’t have a sign for ‘relationship’. The closest he has is dating. “About dating. All of us.”
“Yeah, we do.” Minho signs as he speaks, more slowly so Gally can follow. Thomas knows without looking that he’s copying the signs, trying to get a feel for them.
“I can— ” Thomas swallows, then tries again. “I think I can do this verbally.” His voice is scratchy, rough; it’s better than when he woke up this morning but it’s still not great.
“Not if you don’t want to, Thomas. You don’t have to. Gally’s learned a lot, and we can manage with the signs we have.” Minho tells him.
“I’ll switch back if I need to, but we should have all the words we can for this.”
“Do we want to take the chairs or the bed for this?” Gally asks.
“Bed.” Thomas decides.
The chairs have too much separation.
Minho helps Thomas take the sling off, but he doesn’t lean against him like he normally would when they sit in bed.
He wants to watch both of them, figure out what they’re thinking if he can.
“Thomas, you know we both like you.” Gally starts, sitting across from him.
“I know.” He answers. He hasn’t said it back yet. “And I like both of you. But are you both just dating me, or are you dating each other, too?”
“I want to try dating both of you.” Minho says. “We’re going to have to figure things out, and talk a lot more, but I want to try it.” Gally nods his agreement.
Was it really this easy all along? Is this the talk he’d run away from?
“Thomas,” When he looks at Minho, he’s laughing a little. “I think you’re overthinking this, shank. Gally and I have been talking, trying to work though what we want to be.”
They’ve just been waiting for him to get on board, then. He feels the flush rising and ducks his head before either of them can point it out.
“Minho and I have had more time to talk it out, Greenie.” Gally points out. “We lived in a small room together for a few weeks, remember? It’s nothing against you.”
Still, he wishes he hadn’t been so afraid earlier.
But then they might not be here, Minho and Gally laying down on either side of him, holding hands across his body.
They don’t have a sign for ‘I love you’ yet, but he thinks Minho and Gally understand what he means anyway.
