Work Text:
Minho shook the wet drops from his hair as he entered the apartment building. He half-jogged up the stairs to get to Newt’s flat where he was picking him up, just as he did basically every day. Newt wasn’t particularly fond of his foster parents, so he practically lived with Minho’s family. Minho didn’t complain.
He reached the wooden door of the apartment when he heard a loud crash from inside.
Shit.
He was glad Newt had given him the key, because he doubted his boyfriend would open right now if he knocked. He either wouldn’t want to or wouldn’t hear it. Minho fumbled with the key, but eventually managed to unlock the door. He stepped inside, quickly but carefully. The room was dark, probably because Newt was home alone and didn’t bother to turn on the lights. When Minho’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw Newt standing with his back to him, forehead and arms resting against the wall in front of him. Around the room lay all kinds of scattered and broken items like books, plates, vases and cushions.
“Newt”, Minho said softly. Newt didn’t turn around, and Minho carefully stepped over the sea of shattered glass to get to his boyfriend. Newt was trembling, and Minho reached out a hand to touch his shoulder.
“Hey,” he said, but Newt pushed him away.
“Don’t touch me”, he warned, and Minho could hear the anger and frustration that was still laced in his voice. He withdrew his hand and leaned against the wall to get a better view of Newt’s face. His unfocused eyes were piercing the floor beneath him.
“Tell me what’s wrong”. This drew immediate reaction from Newt, and he slammed his fist into the wall in front of him, pushed himself away from it and took a few angry steps in the other direction.
“Everything is fucking wrong!” he yelled, but didn’t turn around to face Minho. He knew Newt had to get it out, so he proceeded.
“Tell me”. Newt was now running his hand through his hair while pacing back and forth quickly, only challenged by his still-visible limp.
“I hate this!” It came out a frustrated growl. “I hate this bloody limp, I hate being fucking blind, I hate this house, these people, I hate my whole motherfucking life!” He was screaming, and more books were torn out of the shelves. Minho couldn’t help but feel a little hurt, like there was a little needle writhing its way inside his chest. He knew Newt had a lot of bad days, but he kept wondering guiltily where he was in that motherfucking life Newt hated so much.
He pushed this line of thoughts away and focused on his raging boyfriend.
“I know you’re upset, but you have to stop focusing on everything that went wrong, Newt”.
“Then what the bloody hell am I supposed to focus on?” he yelled in Minho’s direction, and the little needle was stabbing violently inside his chest. Minho ignored it. He didn’t want to put Newt in that position yet.
“At least you’re alive”.
“THAT’S EXCACTLY THE POINT!” Newt raged. “I DIDN’T WANT THIS LIFE THEN, AND I DON’T FUCKING WANT IT NOW!”
The hurt stabbing in Minho’s chest suddenly morphed into twisting anger, and he sized Newt’s wrists and pushed him against the wall to stop him from pacing.
“I know you’ve had it rough, and you have every reason to be angry”, he growled, and ignored Newt’s attempts on freeing himself. “But do I really mean that little to you?” Newt froze and Minho looked at him, breathing heavily.
“Where the fuck am I in that life of yours that you’re so desperate to get rid of?”
Newt was completely still where he stood between him and the wall, and Minho swallowed his anger and tried to calm down. The next thing he said came out as not much more that a whisper.
“Am I worth that little to you?”
“No”. Newt shook his head, over and over. “No, no, no, no”. Minho’s grip had loosened, and Newt withdrew his hands to put them around Minho’s face. He pulled him in so that their foreheads were resting against each other. Newt had his eyes closed.
“No, Minho, I…” Minho just calmly studied his face. He but his lip and frowned slightly, obviously trying to find the right words. “You’re worth everything to me”, he explained in a hoarse voice. He sounded tired. “You’re the reason I’m still here. You’re the reason I still want to be here”. Newt paused. “You know I don’t think straight when I’m like this, but I love you. You know that”.
Minho took a trembling breath and nodded.
“I know”. He put a hand on one of Newt’s holding his face and realized it was bloody, probably from punching the wall and smashing glass.
“Wanna go home?” he asked, and tugged a little at his hand. Newt nodded, and followed him out of the door that Minho quietly shut and locked behind them.
