It was morning, and business in Haven was beginning, and Minho was doing nothing. He was leaning against the back of one of the many log-cabin-like houses in Haven, facing the woods. He folded his arms over his chest and stared off into the shade. He was numb inside. Guilt churned in his stomach for what he'd done, going against his promise to Newt. Sorrow brimmed inside of him. He'd broken Thomas' heart. He'd gotten too close, found out too much, and then he'd smashed his heart like a monster. How could he do this? How could anyone live like this?

He missed Newt so much, everyday. Nothing would ever change that.

But he was in love with Thomas.

He dragged his hands over his face and then back through his hair, lacing them together behind his head. He closed his eyes. What a wreck he was now. What an ugly, horrible wreck.

Tiny patterings—footsteps—sounded off to his right. He glanced over and was surprised when he spotted Angie's bright blue eyes peering around the corner of the house at him. She inched farther into view when he saw her. Uncertainly, she shifted her feet. "Hi, Minho," she greeted. "What'cha doin?"

"Just thinking," he replied, managing a smile for her.

"Wanna play a game?" she asked. Hope trickled into her voice.

"What kind of game?"

"The Question Game," she answered proudly. "I ask a question, then you ask a question, and we keep going until one of us doesn't wanna answer. First person to not answer loses. Wanna play?"

"Sure. You go first." Minho was glad for the distraction.

"Okay." Angie swung her arms back and forth in thought. "What's...your favorite color?"

"Blue," Minho answered easily. "What's yours?"

"Pink," she giggled. "Ummmmmm, what's your favorite thing to do?"

Minho considered that one. "Playing with you guys," he decided, and she gave a jump of happiness. "Okay, um. Who's your best friend?"

"Will, I guess," she answered. "Or Cindy." She cocked her head, studying him. "How strong are you? Like, could you lift me up?"

"Which one of those is your question?"

"The second one."

"Sure I can." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Can you lift ME up?"

She snorted. "No way!" Then she gave him her puppy-dog eyes. "Can you lift me onto your shoulders like Thomas does? Right now? Pleeeeeaaase?"

"Absolutely," he replied, and he lifted her up onto his shoulders in one smooth motion. She let out a cheer of delight, gazing down from her new height.

She ran a finger over Minho's hair and giggled. "Your hair's spiky," she informed him.

Minho smiled. "I know, right?"

"Cindy was tellin' be about your hair yesterday," Angie continued. She lowered her voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "She thinks you're cute."

Minho could only laugh at that. "And she's okay with you telling me that?"

"She doesn't have to know." Angie flapped her hand dismissively, nose lifted in a fun, troublemaking way. Then she blinked down at him. "Do you like Thomas?"

Minho swallowed hard. This might be the one question he skipped. He took a breath. "Yeah," he admitted. "Why?"

"I could just tell," she replied. "You always look like you wanna hug him when you play with us and you get all gooey when he talks to you. Why don't you tell him you like him?"

"Well, I want to," he told her, leaving out the kiss. "But I was with someone else before. And I promised him that I wouldn't like anyone else."

"What happened to him?" she asked, with childlike curiosity.

"He died, before we came here," Minho said gently. Sadness hung over him as he thought of Newt's death. "But I need to keep my promise to him."

"Well, that's dumb," she announced unexpectedly. "You can't help it if you like Thomas now. You should just tell him. I bet your other guy would understand."

"You think so?" he asked, partly for the benefit of the game and partly because he was listening to her.

"Yeah!" She beamed proudly. Then she patted his hair, careful not to mess up the "spikiness." "Okay, you can put me down now."

He obediently picked her up and set her back down on her feet. She dashed off, heading back to the meadow, probably. But before she disappeared around the side of the house, she halted and looked back. "And don't worry about, like, if Thomas won't like you back," she advised. "Cuz you are really cute." She blushed like the little girl she was and raced away.

Minho stared after her, thinking about her words. Would Newt really understand if Minho wanted to move on? To be happy again?

A new voice suddenly spoke from behind, startling him. "Angie? Where'd you go?" Minho whirled around and found himself face to face with Thomas. Thomas halted when he saw that Angie wasn't back there. Then a shadow of pain clouded his brown eyes. "Oh. Hey, Minho. Have you seen Angie?"

Minho felt his throat close up. "Yeah, she went back into Haven," he replied.

"Okay. Thanks," Thomas said, and actually smiled. Smiled! At Minho, who had hurt him and pushed him away. And he wasn't bringing up last night either. It was another reminder of Thomas' kindness, that he was willing to let it go because he cared about Minho.

He was just about to pass by in search of Angie when Minho blurted it out. "I'm sorry, Thomas."

Thomas halted. He stared at Minho with such sorrow in his gaze that it killed Minho on the inside. "No, I'm sorry," he said quietly. "That promise you talked about... I know it was about Newt. You were devastated when you lost him. I shouldn't have expected you to have any feelings for me."

Minho took a step forward. "I do have feelings for you," he said brokenly. "But I felt so guilty, thinking I was hurting Newt somehow."

"Then I shouldn't have pushed you the way I did," Thomas argued sadly. "I shouldn't have kissed you."

"No, Thomas, I—" He broke off, a shaky breath escaping him. "I never wanted to let you go. You mean so much to me." He had never talked like this before. He didn't look at Thomas when he said it. "Thomas, I...I love you."

Thomas didn't say anything. At first, Minho was terrified that he'd said the wrong thing at the wrong time. He took a breath to take it back, but stopped when he felt Thomas' hands on him, one on his hip and one on his chest. His blood rushed wildly as Thomas pushed him up against the wall of the house and kissed him.

It was just as sweet as the first time, and just as electric. Minho brought his hands up to Thomas' waist, slinging his fingers in his belt loops. Thomas' thumb was stroking the skin just above Minho's waistband, his fingers curling in the front of his shirt. Minho couldn't stop, even if he wanted to. The kiss was deeper, softer, not as desperate as last night's kiss. But Minho felt all of his carefully-built walls crumbling.

He could be with Thomas. He could move on, and he felt that Newt would want him to do so. He didn't have to be alone anymore.

Thomas slipped his hand under Minho's shirt, palm searing the bare skin at his waist and making Minho's knees weak. They slid down the wall until he was sitting against it with Thomas straddling him. Thomas drew back slightly, kissing the corner of Minho's mouth, his jaw, leaving a burning trail back to his ear. Minho whimpered, utterly helpless in his arms. Thomas circled his arms around Minho's waist, holding him in a loving embrace. "I love you, Minho," he whispered.

And somehow, Minho knew that it might've taken months, or even years, but eventually, they would've ended up together.

-o-o-o-

It was a beautiful, lazy summer silence that hung over Haven that day. The sky was cloudless and a brilliant shade of deep blue. The long grass of the meadow swayed in a warm breeze, turned to golden silk in the sunlight. Mothers were out enjoying the weather, watching their children play or exchanging gossip with each other. Elderly couples sat on makeshift chairs outside their homes, talking and looking so adorable. Everything was peaceful.

Unfortunately, that peace did not last long.

"GET HIM, GUYS, GET HIM! SLAY THE DRAGON!"

Angie's shout split the air a second before a boy with broad shoulders and spiked ebony hair burst from the woods and raced toward Haven. The people looked on in confusion and then surprised amusement as a horde of kids exploded from the trees behind him. There were about five or six kids in all, and all of them let out a collective battle cry before chasing after the black-haired boy. At the edge of the woods, watching with bright grins, stood Angie and another boy with sandy-brown hair.

Minho glanced back once. "Oh my shucking god, why do you want to tickle me so bad?!" he asked, partly playing along and partly terrified at the prospect of a dozen tiny hands tickling him.

Will was leading the charge and he was the one that shouted back. "Cuz you're the DRAGON!"

"Why can't THOMAS be the dragon?!"

"Duh! Because Thomas is the prince!"

"That's not fair, he's always the prince!"

There wasn't any more time for words then because that was when they caught him. The Immunes covered their mouths to stifle laughter as Minho disappeared under a mass of squealing children. They could barely make him out, laughing and holding his sides in an effort to shield them as hands poked at his ribs. It was hilarious to watch.

Thomas and Angie finally approached from the woods. Thomas watched Minho struggle for a second or two. "Okay, guys, let him go," he said. "I think you got the dragon pretty good this time." He held out a hand to help Minho up.

Suddenly, a hand shot from the mob of kids and grabbed Thomas' outstretched arm. He yelped as he was dragged down into the crowd. Immediately, a chorus of ewwwwwwww's and a few girly awwwwwwwww's rose from the kids and they scattered. Left behind was Thomas, stretched out on top of Minho, both grinning at each other.

Minho kept his hands at Thomas' waist, holding Thomas to him. He rested his head against the grass and flashed his signature smirk. "Got you."

"No you don't," Thomas argued, a glint in his brown eyes. His forearms were holding himself up; one hand played idly with Minho's hair.

"Uh, yeah. I do." Minho lifted his head to nuzzle Thomas' neck. "And I'm not letting you go either."

"But I know your weakness," Thomas pointed out. And he promptly stuck one hand into Minho's ribs.

"Agh, crap!" Minho twisted to escape the fingers digging into his sides, but Thomas was on top of him and made it impossible. Thomas only tickled him harder. "Stop!" he gasped out between fits of laughter.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Thomas asked lightly.

"Stop, please!"

"That's still not what I wanted to hear."

"Dammit, Thomas, what?!"

Thomas smiled. "Tell me you love me."

"Okay, okay, I love you!"

The tickling stopped instantly. Minho collapsed back onto the grass in relief, chest heaving. His sides were sore as hell again, though. He really needed to get this ticklish thing under control. Thomas slipped his hand under Minho's shirt, soothingly massaging the aches away from Minho's sides. Minho groaned in appreciation.

"Sorry, love," Thomas murmured. "I forgot that tickling kinda hurts sometimes."

Thomas' thumb was rubbing a particularly sensitive spot above Minho's waistband. "Oh, god, that feels good," Minho breathed, forgetting what Thomas had even said.

Thomas chuckled. "Feeling better, I see."

In reply, Minho gave him his version of puppy eyes, which was downright adorable. It was sort of a sly look, thanks to his ever-present smirk, and gave him the impression of a puppy about to make trouble. "Kiss me?"

Thomas rolled his eyes, but obediently leaned down and pecked Minho's mouth. Minho whimpered at the chasteness and nipped Thomas' bottom lip. Thomas immediately pressed their mouths together again. They kissed deeply, softly, for only a few moments, aware that they might have an audience in Haven. When they broke apart, Minho left one last, tiny kiss on Thomas' nose before resting his head against the grass again. "Still love me?" he asked quietly.

"With all of my heart," Thomas whispered.

"Still want me?"

"I'll always want you, Min."

"Still wanna be the prince?"

Thomas snorted at that one. "What're you talking about?"

Minho dropped his voice to an exaggerated, frantic whisper, so that the kids wouldn't overhear. "I can't be the damn dragon again. I can't take it anymore. My freaking abs can't take it anymore, they hurt like hell."

Impossibly, some kid, maybe Cindy, yelled, "MINHO'S GOT ABS!"

"I WANNA SEE!" another kid shouted back.

Minho moaned in despair. "You gotta be kidding me," he whined.

Thomas just laughed, giddy with the whole thing, every beautiful part of it. "I'll protect you, baby," he murmured, nuzzling Minho's nose and making Minho raise his eyebrows at the cute gesture, with a silly smile on his face. "I won't let the little five-year-olds hurt you."

Minho grinned hopefully. "Soooooo...you're saying that YOU'LL be the dragon next time."

Thomas chuckled. "Shut up, Min," he said, before kissing Minho again.

Around them, the grass was golden, the sky was clear, and the happy conversation of Haven filled the air.

Summer stretched ahead of them, bright and endless.

All was well.