Finding You || Dylan O'Brien

twenty (edited)

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"DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE!"

Minho's screams filled the house, too early for Dylan's liking. He, in his disheveled morning state, in nothing but his pyjama bottoms, stormed into the living room. He sighed when Minho started to curse loudly at the TV, the sound of guns and bullets hitting metal. God knows what his friend was playing, but at 8am it was hell for the ears.

"Minho can you shut up?" 

"No, because - DIE DIE YES YOU DIE - I need to finish this level." Minho said, eyes glued to the screen. "And - SHOOT YES PROTECT ME GO GO - I also think this is a good way to get my anger and frustration out."

"It is eight in the fucking morning." Dylan seethed.

"So?" Minho said. "That didn't stop Satan from visiting you"

"That's different" he said angrily. He was about to return to his room when he remembered. "Also, your...your mum called."

"What did she say?" Minho asked bluntly.

Dylan knew that things between Minho and his mother were complicated. Honestly, he had no clue as to why she called. He only knew what his own mother told him, which wasn't very much. He decided to tell him anyway, seeing as it was important. None of Minho's family have contacted him for five years.

"She was looking for you. No idea why." he said.

"DIE DIE STUPID ASSHOLE RAM ME INTO YOUR BUTTHOLE I WILL TEAR YOUR BOYFRIEND IN HALF YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKING PRICK DICK JERKFACE SEX WITH YOUR GRANDMA."

Dylan stepped away, knowing that he had now passed the line of 'being angry' and on the verge of killing someone. Maybe it was better off that he didn't know. Minho's mother wasn't the nicest of people, if he could remember correctly. The only time he had seen Minho talk to her was in college, when he was on the phone with her. It was nothing more than a "I'm at college. Bye". He hated his mother, and now she was trying to looking for him. Dylan didn't know what to think.

As he headed back to the kitchen, the doorbell rang.

A wave of panic came over him, and then stress. Was it his mother? Was it Minho's mother? Was it Astrid? All three would cause panic and stress. He was half shirtless, and Minho was going to kill someone. 

Quickly, he ran upstairs and pulled on a shirt before rushing back to the front door. Hoping whoever had come to visit wasn't needing Minho, he opened the door.

His heart sunk, his fist clenched. The boy in front of him looked hopeful with his hands in his pockets. He hadn't expected his arrival, and yet he was so sure of what he could and would do.

Dylan gulped. "Thomas."

"Dylan." he nodded, expressionless. "Can I see Minho?"

Anger surged through his blood. But he knew this was to be settled by Thomas and Minho. Only them. He nodded reluctantly, his eyes falling to the floor as he let him inside.

"WHO THE - oh" He heard Minho say as he closed the door.

Thomas stood at the doorway, hands heavy in his pockets. Dylan chewed his lip anxiously, watching Thomas and Minho carefully, knowing that all Hell would break lose anytime now. Thomas was the first to speak.

"I'm asking for another chance." he said quietly.

"Haven't we already discussed this?" Minho said.

"Partially, but it was a very one-sided conversation involving mostly me," Thomas carefully considered. "And it was via text, which is the worst form of communication to use when negotiating."

Minho made a face. "Stop being all writer-y for one goddamn second and speak English, please."

"It isn't my fault that you have a peanut for a brain"

"At least it's a fabulous gay peanut."

Dylan bit his lip to suppress a chuckle. Thomas, acting as if this was his home again, ignored Minho's comment and started to walk down the hallway to the kitchen. His heavy shoes thundered as he walked.

"Come on, Minho." he said tiredly. "We need to talk."

He turned to Dylan with firmly set eyes. Dylan thought he might shatter under his gaze.

"Stay out of this." Thomas said firmly, before thundering away.

Minho yawned and followed after him. Dylan wondered if he needed to clear the kitchen just in case either of them attempted to do what they did last time. Perhaps he should listen in a bit, just to make sure nobody would get hurt.

He waited in the living room for a moment before he pressed his ear against the cool door. The kitchen door was rarely closed so the darkness in the hallway was unfamiliar and eerie. Leaning against it, faint voices started to rise.

"...sorry. Please."

"I've told you before. You need to stop."

"You know I'd never do that to you. I was angry."

"Just...give me time to fucking think."

"I'm trying to do this now. Are you still...mad at me?"

"Of course I am."

"Sorry"

Someone blew their nose loudly. He guessed it was Minho, as he had more tendency to cry than Thomas.

"Can't we just take a break?"

"But I miss you."

Minho chuckled. "Bullshit."

"Oh come on."

"I just need a break, Thomas."

"But you promise we'll be...together after this, right?"

"You're a fucking douchebag."

"I love you"

Dylan's breaths were suddenly loud when the couple inside the kitchen were silent. Dylan could imagine Minho sitting on the countertop, looking down at his lap and thinking, Thomas watching him pleadingly.

"I don't know anymore, Thomas"

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WOWOWOWOWOWOOWOW THOMINHO IS STRONG

- Liza