Silence

**hey, guys! Sorry, this is another rather depressing one-shot. (Though it might turn into a two-shot. Maybe.)

I would like to thank Nalbyismylife for requesting this and giving me the idea to write it. :)

Reviews are always appreciated. Let me know if you want this to be a two-shot, because Max needs some love, doesn't he? DX

Enjoy!**

...

Max had a problem.

A serious problem.

And it was slouching sleepily on a chair next to him in the Map Room this very second.

"Shuck, Max, how far did run today?" Minho stifled a yawn, slumping down farther in his chair. He rubbed at his eyes in obvious tiredness.

Max's foot was fidgeting up and down under the table, his nervousness revving up by the second. "Um, a lot," he answered dumbly. "We went from Section Four to Eight so...yeah. A lot."

"Ughh," Minho groaned. "Kill me now."

"I would, but then no one would be around to kill me." Which was true; it was one of the few (and treasured) times that they were alone in the Map Room. Max ran a hand over his short, spiky red hair and used the movement to sneak a glance over at his Keeper. Minho was stretching his arms above his head, showing off the lovely flex of muscle in his powerful arms. His denim shirt rode up an inch, revealing a sun-kissed band of skin at his waistband. Max wilted at the sight. Jesus, Minho was gorgeous.

"So what do you think about the newbie?" Minho asked suddenly. His voice was curious, casual. But it was hiding something.

Max thought. The Greenie, a blonde named Newt, had recently joined the Runners. He was pretty good at it, though he had woken up a Griever two days ago, on his first day. It was not an experience Max cared to repeat. But he liked Newt; the blonde had become a good friend to him. "He was a stupid idiot, waking up a Griever," Max replied at last. "But he's good at being a Runner. I guess I like the kid."

"Hm." Minho was looking at his boots under the table, folding his arms over his chest in thought.

Max tried for an encouraging smile. "You made a good choice, Minho."

Minho jerked slightly. "What?" he asked, nearly defensive.

Max blinked. "You made a good choice when you picked him as a Runner," he explained.

"Oh. Oh, right." For some reason, Minho avoided Max's gaze, almost...sheepishly? "I guess."

The strange behavior made Max remember something from a while ago, something Minho had said. He studied his Keeper carefully. "He's kinda cute too," he remarked conversationally.

Minho glanced at him sharply. "You think he's cute?" he asked, saying "cute" like it was some forbidden word. "Cute how?"

"Well, I mean, he's got that blonde hair and that accent that most girls would go nuts over."

Minho's gaze slid back to his feet. "Blue eyes," he mumbled, half to himself.

Max felt a little prick of hurt in his heart. "Yeah. I know a few guys who would like to have him."

Minho's eyes flared at that. He scoffed. "Please. He'd never go for any of them."

"How do you know?" Max asked in surprise.

"I just do."

Max's heart sank. "You like him, don't you?"

Minho glared at him, bristling. It was a dark look that he always had when he was going to deny something, tell you you were full of crap. "No."

"You're lying."

"Max."

"I can tell you're lying; I can see it."

"MAX."

"You...you LIKE Newt." Max gaped at him, because he was now really really realizing it. Minho, his fearless, Keeper, was falling for a newbie. A freaking NEWBIE! Someone he'd hardly known at all! And he should've been falling for—

"Dammit, Max, what the hell is wrong with you?" Minho demanded. His exhaustion had been temporarily forgotten. His deep, dark eyes sparked angrily. "Why do you care if I like some Greenie?"

Max stared at him desperately. He could feel the emotion filling up his lungs, his heart, suffocating him the way it had since Day One. He was so sick of this. He wanted to be wanted. He wanted to be loved. "Because I like you," he blurted out, before he could think better of it.

Minho's eyebrows flicked up, his body stiffening. "I thought..."

"You thought what?" Max asked. Stupid stupid Max! he thought. You've ruined everything now!

"I thought it was just some stupid crush."

Max's heart froze. "You knew?"

"Of course I knew." Minho glanced down at where his fingers played with a button on his shirt. "It was easy to see, Max. Brian always made fun of you about liking someone when I was around and you've been staring at me for the past half hour. A blind moron could see it."

Max flinched at the harsh tone. "You don't have to be so mean about it," he muttered, dropping his eyes to the floor. "I understand, okay?"

"What d'you mean, you understand?"

"I just understand. Let it go."

"Well, what do you mean, Max? Jesus, it's just a question."

"I just get it, okay, Minho?" Max snapped. He glowered at Minho brokenly. His chest felt like it was full of deep, awful water. "I get that you don't like me back. I get that you're in love with Newt."

Minho stuttered at that one. "I'm not in—in love with Newt," he protested.

Max shot him a look. A serious, no-sarcasm look. "Minho."

Minho scowled at him stonily for a few seconds more. Then his shoulders fell and he released a long sigh. "Damn." He dragged his fingers back through his black hair, mussing it. "Okay. Okay, maybe I do have...a couple feelings for him. But that's—"

"Minho," Max repeated, even harder this time.

"All right, fine, maybe more than a couple feelings, but—"

"MINHO."

"Dammit, Max, what do you want me to say?" Minho looked at Max with anger and defeat tangled up in his expression. "You're right. Okay? You're right. That freaking Greenie drives me crazy. I'm going out of my mind, Max, and I can't figure out how to stop it. How do I stop thinking about him, and worrying about him, and—and—" He broke off, shaking his head. He only ever confessed like this to close friends, which was why he was willing to say this to Max. "And loving him," he finished quietly.

Max wanted to sob at the words. He could feel the suffocation inside of him building more and more. It sucked being right. It sucked knowing that Minho loved Newt. The whole, shucked-up world sucked so much, making the person he'd give anything for fall in love with someone else. He trembled. "I...I know how you can stop thinking about him," he admitted in a small voice. "And worrying about him. All the things you said. I know how you can forget."

Minho looked at him for a long moment. "How?"

And without thinking, Max kissed him. He knew it was a bad idea. This was a mistake. But he did it anyway. He needed it. He NEEDED it. As soon as Minho's mouth brushed onto his, so heartbreakingly soft, he completely melted.

Minho froze under Max's touch. It was clear that he hadn't expected this. At first, he did nothing, even lifting one hand as though to push Max away. But then, slowly, the hand fell on Max's neck and he closed his eyes. Max was astonished when he felt Minho kiss him back. He didn't know what to do for a second. But Minho's thumb was pressing gently against his jaw and damn, his mouth was so addictive... Max kissed back harder, angling his head. He heard a little gasp from Minho and, God, the sound sent shocks down his spine. Please, he thought, he begged. Please, love me.

"No," Minho growled out finally. He dropped his hand to Max's shoulder and pushed him back. His eyes were dark, but not with passion or love. Not the way they were with Newt. "I can't, Max. I'm sorry."

Max's entire body shivered from the effects that single kiss had on him. He swallowed hard and lowered his eyes. "I know."

"Shuck, I'm not good at this," Minho muttered, rubbing the back of his head. Then he sighed heavily. "Listen, Max. There's...there's someone out there for you. There's someone who could love you. But it's not me."

"I know," Max mumbled. It seemed to be the only thing he knew how to say. He was heartbroken. For one moment, just one beautiful moment, he'd thought that maybe he had a chance. Maybe Minho would realize that he and Newt weren't meant to be, and he would look at Max the way he looked at Newt, with so much softness. But any fool could see that Minho and Newt belonged together. There was no question about it.

So where did that leave Max?

Minho searched Max's face intently. "Max? You okay?"

"I'm fine." Max took a deep breath.

"You sure?"

And Max did the bravest thing he'd ever done. He smiled. "Yeah. Don't worry about it. It was stupid." He pushed down his disappointment and added, "it's just a crush anyway. I'll get over it."

Minho studied him critically. Then, finally, he nodded. "Okay. If you're sure." His mouth quirked into a suggestion of a half-smile. He started to push up out of his chair. "Well, I'm gonna go find the other Runners and make sure they're not trashing the Glade without me to help them. Dee's probably gotten Gally to punch him by now. You wanna come?"

"Nah. I'm gonna stay here and sleep for a while. I'm exhausted. Tell Brian I said hi." Besides Minho, Brian was Max's closest, best friend.

"I will." Minho crossed the room and pulled open the door in one motion. Afternoon sunset light bathed the Map Room for one glorious second. Then he slipped out and shut the door. Dimness fell over the room again. It left behind a quiet unlike anything Max had ever known.

With no one to see, Max folded his arms on the table and buried his face in them.

"I love you," he whispered softly.

When only silence greeted his words, he let the tears come.