Unedited. Double update because this chapter is short.

See end notes for commentary.

Part XVII

It was rare for Minho to find time for himself. His schedule usually had him bouncing between morning practice, classes, more practice and then more classes. Whatever available time he had, he lent to Newt and Thomas or as of recent weeks, studying for finals.

Janson's latest stunt cycled through his mind, along with Thomas' behavior.

A few days since their dinner, Minho saw a change in the brunet's demeanor. He stayed up late to help Newt with English and often times came to the dorm with dinner ready for them. He did their chores just so they wouldn't have to break their studying and quizzed them for hours on everything they'd learn. He worried himself to sickness, a fact that truly irritated both Minho and Newt – because Thomas didn't just catch a cold, he got sick and he hid his sickness, and although he bounced back fairly quickly, Minho and Newt weren't happy with having to take him to the ER just to get the boy to take some damn medication.

Newt had expressed his concerned, but Minho knew as intelligent as Thomas was, he was just as stubborn. The boy wasn't going to explain his ways no matter how much Newt persisted.

Minho knew. He understood why Thomas kept his secret. He even understood the reason behind it, of course he wouldn't want Newt to worry. Of course he wouldn't want to burden Minho with his issues. Of course he'd do anything for their wellbeing – but Thomas was so stupid. He was so stubborn and impulsive, a shucking bloody genius hiding behind insecurities and chocolate doe eyes that screamed love me forever and always.

Thomas was an idiot and Minho loved the damn shank to a million pieces, but he wasn't going to let the boy do this alone, because like Thomas, Minho was just as impulsive and idiotic.

Minho wrapped his knuckles against Jorge's door, the older man jerking his way in surprise. He flashed Minho a pearly white smile and beckoned him to sit on the dilapidated chair in front of his desk. Minho closed the door behind him, the tale tell click of the lock loud in the quiet office.

"Come Minho, sit, sit. I was just thinking about you, mijo."

"Great because I'm about to piss you off." The athlete grinned, his dimples deepening. He dropped an envelope onto Jorge's desk and laid back into his chair. He throw his hands behind his head without a care in the world.

Jorge's brows wrinkled. He plucked the letter from the white envelope cautiously, gave Minho a curious quirk of his eyebrow before reading the letter. He pulled back a few minutes later, his expression passive.

"So, you wish to drop out of the team?"

"Yep."

"You realize you'll lose your scholarship?"

"I know."

Jorge leaned closer, linking his fingers together. "Why are you doing this?"

Minho felt the rage burn beneath his skin, the memory of Janson's blackmail still raw in his mind. He schooled his face into stoniness, allowed his stone cold resolve to roll over him in waves. He caught the flicker of concern flash in Jorge's eyes and a part of him twinge with guilt from making the man worry about him.

He would miss Jorge come spring.

"I've decided WCKED U isn't the place for me." He shrugged. "It's too much work and I'm not about that life."

Jorge arched an eyebrow.

"You're one of the most hardworking people on the team, mijo. Is that really the excuse you've going to give me?"

"Whatever makes you hate me."

"I don't hate you. In fact, I'm worried."

"I know."

"Then explain to me what's going on."

Minho sat up straighter, his body numb yet his heart racing. He ran a hand through his hair nervously.

"Thomas is leaving because he thinks it'll be beneficial for all three of us. And I'm withdrawing because I don't want him to be alone next year. He's been hospitalized twice already because of his shitty personal maintenance. Staying here next semester knowing he's back home isn't something I want to deal with."

Jorge watched him for a moment, his expression hard to read. Minho didn't care what the man thought about his excuse, Thomas and Newt were the two most important people in his life right now. He would do what he thought was the right thing for both of them. Jorge's acceptance was not a requirement. (Though, it would have been nice.)

"Look coach, I don't care if you don't think my reasons are good, I just know that I'm not going to let Thomas be alone and have Newt worry himself sick about it."

Jorge raised his hands defensively. He fell back against his chair, swinging it side to side in contemplation.

"It's your choice, mijo." He said finally. "We do what we have to for those we love."

Minho felt a heavy weight lift from his shoulders. He relaxed into the chair, his muscles already aching from tension he didn't know he had. He smiled lazily.

"Thanks Jorge."

His coach smirked. "Anytime Minho."

Newt watched Thomas' sluggish movements as his boyfriend collected his dirty laundry. Watching him, fresh from the hospital and hopped up on a cocktail of medication to fight off the recurrent illness brought Newt memories of the time he had spent weeks in the hospital waiting for the end, regardless if it meant life or death. Thomas' refusal to stay in bed despite the sleep that clung to his eyelids, made Newt chuckle. He had already tried to convince Thomas to rest, but the sleepy glare the boy gave him made Newt want to smother him from the overload of cuteness. (He would have too if he weren't so perturbed by Thomas' horrendous immune system.)

Two days lost waiting in the hospital; two days of studying gone thanks to blood tests, medication and three hours of arguing on the phone with the insurance company because they wouldn't, for whatever reason, cover for the boy's expenses. (It wasn't like Tommy could do anything about his shitty immune system!)

Newt didn't blame Thomas for wanting a little bit of normalcy. It seemed so hard to get as of late. And with Janson breathing down their necks, Newt didn't expect to find normalcy until the holidays – and that was being generous.

"The doctor said to take it easy, Tommy." Newt sighed.

Thomas stuffed another rolled up [air of sweats into his laundry bag with a huff.

"This is the only chance I'll get to do my laundry before we go home next week."

"We still have to take finals. You could do them then."

"I'm going to celebrate the end of a semester with you and Minho. Laundry is the last thing I'll do." The brunet grumbled, rubbing a dry eye.

Newt chortled. He understood Thomas' plight, especially since Minho had already expressed wanting to take them to a hotel before running home for the holidays. What time would Thomas get to do his laundry?

Newt leaned against the wall. He continued to watch Thomas' movement, dark eyes dozing off in thoughts of his own. Thomas never got the chance to explain why he took them out last week, and with the sudden onslaught of sickness and studying for finals, he didn't expect his boyfriend to ever tell him what he'd done to feel so guilty. Not that he hadn't tried. He spent far too much time trying to get Thomas to talk, but to no avail.

A part of him felt he didn't need to ask. He suspected he knew the truth, he only wished he could have talked Thomas out of it.

"Hey Tommy?"

Thomas stilled. "Yeah?"

"I love you."

The brunet turned three shades of red. He ducked away from Newt's intense gaze and focused intently on separating colors from his whites.

"W-what's that for?" He mumbled.

Newt shrugged. "I just wanted you to know."

"Oh. I love you too." He turned to Newt then, his cheeks pink. "I'd kiss you but I'm germy."

Newt grinned. "I know. Stay over there. I don't fancy being hospitalized myself. I'm going to disinfect the room once you leave."

The brunet suddenly pouted. "I take it back. I don't love you at all."

"I'll live." The blond laughed. He barely dodged a rolled up sock thrown his way.

For those of you who don't understand how Minho knew Thomas withdrew from school without any evidence: it's because It's something Minho would do, had threatened to do if things with Janson got worse and therefore DID do. Thomas, like Minho, would do anything to make things easier for him and Newt, even if it came at a cost to himself. Minho, in this story, is the same way. Hope that clears up any confusion!

My regrets regarding this series:

1.) Never writing more about Jorge or Janson outside of their interactions with the boys.
2.) Never getting a chance to explain Thomas' recurring illness.
3.) Never getting a proper chance to poke at Thomas' allergies.

Someone asked me a few months back about Newt's illness and I do plan on writing that as a side story eventually. I haven't forgotten about it!

Thanks for reading!
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