I love you. Three words. Mere seconds. Barely a puff of breath. Thomas had said them before. But they’d never meant so much as they were about to, nor had they ever felt so impermanent.
Minho sat beside him. They had been atypically quiet, both feeling the weight of the fact that today was their last day together. Tomorrow, Minho would be Swiped and sent into the Maze, and Thomas… Thomas would stay here. It was a betrayal and he knew it.
Their hands were still entangled. If they had been discussing something, it really could have been any other day. Thomas’ small room was unchanged, the day identical to the week behind it, and physically, neither of them were any different.
“We should talk,” Thomas tried. Minho lifted his gaze from the floor and he almost winced at the weight of it, the heavy, tired pools that had replaced his boyfriend’s eyes. “I want to say goodbye, at the very least.”
“Well, you’ve said it. We’re done,” Minho said, letting his frustration bleed into his tone. Thomas rolled his eyes.
“Really say goodbye. I don’t want to- to just leave you like this. It’s not like I want to be doing this, Minho!”
“You haven’t done much to stop it,” Minho said bitterly, pulling his hand away. Then he softened, shoulders sagging and eyes closing for a moment. “I’m sorry. That was harsh.”
Thomas smiled sadly. “It’s true, no matter how much I wish it wasn’t.”
“I- I don’t want to forget you. I don’t want to forget us,” Minho sounded downright bashful when he spoke and Thomas took his hand again. “I don’t want to forget your stupid face and working with you.”
“I guess I’ll have to remember for both of us, huh?” They both know that Minho will come back from the Trials different, but they can hope, can’t they?
Minho pretended to think about it, then fake-sighed. “It’ll have to do.”
Thomas laughed for the first time that day. But then he grew serious. It was time. “Listen, if you can even kind of hold on to anything through the Swipe-”
He cut himself off for a second, held Minho’s hand with both of his own, and continued. “If you remember anything, remember that I love you.”
It felt like the fifth act of a tragedy when Minho cupped his cheek with his free hand and said, “How could I forget that?”
For Day 1 of Thominho Week, Tattoos. I know I’m behind OTL
“It doesn’t bother you?” Minho asked as stroked Thomas’ back.
“Does what bother me?” Thomas asked as he turned in Minho’s arms.
“Your tattoo. That you were meant to be killed. That WICKED tried to have you killed more than once.”
“You mean ‘To be killed by Group B’?” Thomas asked.
Minho nodded. “That and also that you were meant to die, like Rachel.”
“Should it bother me?”
Minho sat up in the bed they shared and looked at Thomas. “I don’t know. You were one of their most valuable assets and they just wanted you dead.”
“What’s brought this on? We got away from WICKED months ago?” Thomas sat up as well. “Is something bothering you?”
Minho shook his head. “I just hate that we never got all the answers.”
“We probably never will, Minho. You’ll drive yourself crazy thinking about it.” Thomas as he traced patterns over Minho’s chest.
Minho caught Thomas’ hand in his and brought it to his mouth to place a kiss in the palm. “I don’t think about it all the time. Sometimes I see someone’s tattoo and it just all comes rushing back. I hate that even though we’re safe, I still get this reaction out of anything from them. It’s sickening.”
Thomas pulled his hand away from Minho’s to cup his face. “You were the one that jumped into almost all the action. It would bother me if you didn’t feel that way in all honesty.”
“I still close my eyes and think I’ll wake up in that cell. Waiting for another experiment. It makes me feel sick.” Minho clenched his hands in his lap.
“Do you know how I get over it?” Thomas asked, covering Minho’s hands with his.
“How?”
“I couldn’t bear not waking up next to you when you were taken, so I know I’m fine whenever I wake up next to you every day. It always calms me down.” Thomas smiled.
Minho huffed. “How much cornier can you get, shank?”
“Corny enough to get a kiss?” Thomas asked with hopeful eyes.
“You don’t even have to ask.” Minho laughed as he pulled Thomas into a soft kiss.
The memories are too painful to face, especially when they’re tattooed into their skin. Minho comes up with the idea to rewrite their tattoos to rewrite the memories.
Scars fade, but the tattoos never seem to.
It had been nearly a year since they escaped WICKED, but the memories of everything that had happened still haunted them.
Thomas sat on the edge of the cliff that overlooked the ocean, listening to the water lap at the rocky bluffs below.
Thomas rubbed at the back of his neck. He’s never seen it, but he knows it’s there.
PROPERTY OF WICKED. Group A, Subject A2 – To be killed by Group B.
“Hey, shank,” Minho said quietly.
Thomas jumped, dropping his hand from his neck as he turned to watch Minho walk up beside him and sitting down next to him.
The older boy leant back on his hands, his eyes looking out across the rippling ocean that was lit by the rising sun.
“I woke up and you weren’t there,” Minho said quietly. He turned to look at Thomas, his eyes soft and his voice void of the usual sarcasm and teasing. “Are you okay?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” Thomas said, trying to pass it off as nothing.
“Nightmares?” Minho asked.
“No. It’s nothing.”
“Nice try, shank,” Minho said firmly. “I know you better than that. What’s going, Thomas?”
Before he could stop himself, he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck.
Thomas let a measured breath fall past his lips, his shoulders sagging as he dropped his gaze.
“I don’t want to be what they tried to make me,” Minho said after a while, his voice low enough that Thomas could barely hear it.
Thomas remembered reading the black letters that were tattooed onto Minho’s neck: PROPERTY OF WICKED. Group A, Subject A7 – The Leader.
“I don’t feel like a leader,” Minho said quietly, emotions swirling in the dark depths of his eyes. “No leader leads their friends to their deaths.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Thomas said. “None of it was your fault.”
“I know,” Minho replied, balling his hands into fists before unfurling them again. “But it still kind of feels like it is.”
Thomas looked at him, his heart sinking as he tried to find the words to ease his pain.
“You were a better leader than I ever was,” Minho added, before falling silent again. “You know, Sofia—” He cleared his throat and corrected himself, “Lizzy is a pretty good artist. You should see the mural she painted inside her cabin. Maybe she could, I don’t know, tattoo over it?”
“You think it’ll work?” Thomas asked.
Minho shrugged. “It’s worth a shot, right?”
Thomas thought about it for a moment before nodding.
Minho gently patted his shoulder, pushing himself back up onto his feet and stretching. “I’ll talk to her as soon as she’s up. Until then, I’m going to get breakfast started. You can join me if you want company, but if your sorry ass doesn’t eat, you’re going to be in big trouble.”
Thomas couldn’t help but smile. “I want to be alone for a little bit longer I’ll join you in a while.”
“Okay,” Minho said, gently tousling Thomas’ messy hair affectionately. He took a few steps before stopping and turning to call out to Thomas. “Hey.”
Thomas looked over his shoulder at him.
“You’re not alone,” Minho said quietly.
A soft smile payed across Thomas’ lips, reading the subtext of Minho’s words. “I know.”
“I mean it,” Minho added. “If you’re not down there when the breakfast bell rings, I’m coming back up here and kicking your ass off that cliff.”
Thomas let out a soft laugh as he watched Minho turn and walk back towards the Safe Haven.
Lizzy agreed in a heartbeat, pulling out an old notebook she had in her cabin and showing them the drawings she had done.
Thomas made an attempt to describe what he had in mind, and the sketch Lizzy drew up was better than anything he could have ever imagined.
He stripped off his shirt and sat down on her bed, turning his back to her. Lizzy sat down behind him and set to work, covering up the tattoo and blending the black ink into the new design.
When she was done, she held up a hand mirror, angling it so that Thomas could see the new tattoo: a chain of forget-me-nots, the delicate blue petals and bold yellow centres that stook out against his pale skin. Fine black lines were intertwined with the flowers, swirling and curling into cursive letters that spelt out the names of the friends they had lost; Chuck, Newt, Winston, Alby.
Minho walked in a few minutes later.
“Looking good, shank,” he teased, a smirk lighting up his face as he looked from Thomas’s new tattoo to his bare chest.
Thomas pulled on his shirt as Minho stepped over to Lizzy’s side.
She held out her sketchbook for him, showing him another design she had done.
Thomas looked at him, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“What?” Minho said as he stripped off his shirt without hesitation or shame, and sat down. “You didn’t think you were the only one getting their stupid tattoo covered up, did you?”
Thomas’ eyes drifted to Minho’s bare chest, his gaze tracing the curves of his body and the seams of his muscles. He swallowed hard, shaking himself from his stupor. “Do you want me to stay?”
“I need you to hold my hand,” Minho jested, pouting.
Thomas rolled his eyes. He turned to Lizzy. “Give me a shout if he gives you trouble.”
“Will do,” Lizzy replied.
Minho flashed him a charming smile as he left.
Minho found him on the cliffside hours later.
“I thought you’d be up here,” he said.
Thomas glanced over his shoulder as Minho sat down next to him.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
Minho turned slightly, tugging at the back of his shirt so that the collar slid down enough that Thomas could see his new tattoo.
It was a collage of brightly-coloured flowers: purple statice blooms that symbolised remembrance, sympathy and success, and yellow, white and orange gladious flowers that symbolised strength, faithfulness, honour, and remembrance.
The black lines and lettering of the old tattoo were gone, blended in perfectly with the linework of the flowering blooms.
“For those who made it, and those who we lost along the way,” Minho said quietly, letting go of his shirt and turning back to the water—not able to look Thomas in the eye.
“It’s perfect,” Thomas said softly, letting his head rest against Minho’s shoulder.
Minho reached out, sliding his hand into Thomas’ and lacing their fingers together. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, strained as he fought back tears. “From now on, we decide who we are.”
I’m happy to announce the themes of your choosing for this year’s thominho-week! In no particular order:
July 1: Tattoos/Titles (A2+A7)
The tattoos had an important meaning. How could they not with Minho being given the title of leader? Thomas having "To be killed by Group B" branded into his skin couldn't mean anything good for him.
July 2: Accidental Marriage
Two idiots accidentally united with one vow. What could possibly go wrong? Or right? Either way they're gonna be winging it and maybe they'll even find love along the way.
July 3: W.I.C.K.E.D.'s Experiments
"The road to hell is paved with good intentions" and they certainly had good intentions and went all the way to hell never to return. They’ve already put our boys to quite some trouble and left them to deal with the pieces of their scattered minds and bodies. At least they can't get any worse, right?
July 4: Established Relationship
From domestic fluff to unforeseen relationship troubles, everything can happen. Adopting a pet, meeting the parents, fighting W.I.C.K.E.D. etc.
July 5: Canon Rewrite/Fix-It
Canon can be great, but sometimes it just sucks. Good thing that we possess all the tools to take care of that ourselves. Take whatever you think needs fixing and do your thing.
July 6: Connected Minds
We all know how it went with Thomas being connected to Teresa and Aris, but what if he shared that connection with Minho? Would it get in the way of being runners?
July 7: Paradise
They've finally reached Paradise, a place where they can build their lives far out of W.I.C.K.E.D.'s reach. A place to heal. Though, maybe some have more trouble with that part than others.
You can freely choose and combine these themes to your heart’s desire. You can even choose to do something entirely different at any given day as I’ve chosen to not include a special Free Choice day this time to get around doing a sudden death voting round.
Please tag your posts with thominhoweek19 or with @thominho-week so I can reblog them. If you post your fic on ao3, you can also post it to the Thominho_Week_2019 collection that will be opened before posting starts.
Please contact me for any further questions, otherwise I’ll see you in July again!
He let go of Thomas’ shirt and took a small step back, giving him back some personal space. “Congratulations, Greenie. You’re the lucky shank stuck working with our charming leader.”
He smiled as he spoke and Thomas knew he was joking. “I guess I really lucked out, huh?”
“Thomas! What’d you get?” Minho called from a few feet away. He walked towards them.
“Meet your loyal VP, Mister President.” Thomas took a bow and Minho laughed.
“Sounds like a good choice to me,” he smiled. “I bet they chose you so that I can bail your shank ass out of trouble when Grievers come running.”
“No, I think they chose me so I could keep your ego in check,” Thomas retorted easily. “Someone’s gotta do it, after all.”
He rolled his eyes. “Sure. At least I know that you’ll actually work.”
Thomas snorted slightly in response. They would work together just fine.
Thomas is, in many ways the perfect child for WICKED. He’s inquisitive. He loves to learn. He works well with others. He’s a natural leader. Immune. The list could go on and on.
They use this to their advantage, for “the sake of humanity, Thomas. Think of that!”
For the most part, Thomas is behind that logic. The suffering of some versus the suffering of everyone. The big picture. He builds the Maze. Helps Teresa. Acts older than his age. Acts like it will one day become natural. Does his best to be a perfect figurehead.
Right now, however? He doesn’t care. Right now, he could not give less of a fuck.
“Minho, come on,” he coaxes. His friend’s breathing is shallow and his eyes closed. “If you can stand, I can get you to the nurses. You just gotta help me a little.”
It’s endurance day, the awful day once every two months when WICKED tests them on their physical limits. Logically, Thomas can see the benefits: it assesses who needs more physical work to be ready for the Maze, tells them who’s likely to be a runner or a Final Candidate. But right now, Thomas doesn’t feel very logical. Minho’s his friend and his friend is currently half-unconscious on the floor and he feels like that’s a good enough reason to be a little irrational.
“Minho?” he tries again. No response. Thomas is going to have to do this on his own.
He manages to hook one arm under Minho’s back and get him sitting up. With his other arm, Thomas hooks his legs and heaves upward. Minho is heavy- surprisingly so. He’s thin and lanky, and even if he is taller than Thomas, he never really looks like he had much meat on his bones.
Slowly, he carries the other boy to the door of the small testing gym. Thomas’ arms tremble with the effort. He walks backwards into the door instead of pushing it open normally, all too aware that he might drop Minho at any moment. At least his breathing is starting to deepen again.
The two nurses sweep in the second Thomas gets into the room, fussing over his friend. He is completely forgotten in favor of forcing Minho to drink water, getting him into a position that isn’t how a ragdoll might sit on a shelf and trying to get some response out of him.
Some five minutes later, Doctor Paige comes in.
“Is he doing well?” she asks Thomas, something like genuine concern on her face. He nods and she sighs. “I’ll make sure that they’re not so extreme the next time. We don’t want any of you getting hurt.”
Minho is fine enough now, just exhausted. Ava looks at him with gentle eyes. “Why don’t you take him back to his room when he’s done here, Thomas? I think you’ve both earned the rest of the day off.”
“That sounds good,” Thomas agrees. “I think he needs the break.”
The doctor laughs a little. “You could use one too, Thomas. It’s not easy watching the people you care about get hurt.”
She leaves after that, but her last words float around in Thomas’ brain, even as he takes Minho back to his room, even as he watches his friend fall asleep. He… cares about Minho. In a way that he doesn’t care about his other friends. Thomas notices him that way too, the same way Alby seems to notice Newt.
He watches Minho’s sleeping face for a little bit. He looks more at peace when he sleeps. When he’s awake, Minho is consumed with emotion. He’s passionate with everything he does. But now, he’s just sleeping.
Thomas sighs. He’s been thinking for too long. Slowly, he stands up and leaves the room, careful not to disturb his friend’s peaceful sleep.
Later, Thomas will swear that he was drunk. He will claim he consumed more alcohol than any one human should, was exactly as inebriated as Minho was. Teresa will believe him, Newt and Brenda and Gally and pretty much everyone else will not. This does not change the fact that at eleven forty-ish, when Minho, who really was drunk, gets down on one knee and asks Thomas to marry him, he says yes.
He thinks it’s something in his boyfriend’s eyes that makes him say yes, the sincerity of his gaze, the kind of hopefulness that only the very young and the very drunk have. Minho doesn’t even have a ring, but Thomas just smiles and says yes.
“Okay!” Minho grins widely back. “Let’s go then!”
“Wha- wait!” Thomas squawks, suddenly indignant. “Do you mean right now?”
“We’re only like thirty minutes from Vegas,” he pouts. Minho is an over the top drunk, Thomas thinks mournfully. He tries very hard to pull at heartstrings. “Your parents don’t have to know that now is when we got married!”
Ava honestly probably wouldn’t mind, as long as they got married a second time, with Minho less drunk and her in attendance. Jansen… well, he would defer to Ava if it came down to it. Or maybe…
“Let’s just married here.” Thomas is being bold, but then again, so is Minho.
His risk pays off with a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I like that.”
And so they hold hands and they say their vows, right there beside Thomas’ car, right outside the bar they came from. It’s imperfect and technically not a real marriage, but for that moment, it’s perfect.
As promised: a list of tropes, canon themes and AU settings for you to choose from. You can choose as many or as few as you want. The top 6 picks will be the themes for this year’s thominho-week!
The form will be open until April 7, 11 pm/23:00 CEST which should give everyone more than enough time to decide.
If the dates aren’t a good fit for most people, it’ll be set back. Most likely to sometime in October.
