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“Thomas, come on.” Minho didn’t dare raise his voice above a harsh whisper out of fear for the neighbors.
It was exactly those neighbors that made Thomas hesitant.
“I don’t like this,” he said, shaking his head and staying back. “Not one bit.”
Minho heaved a sigh, taking a couple of steps towards him. “Me neither, but once we get in there,” he said and pointed his thumb over his shoulder, to the abandoned house. “Things will be looking a lot better already.”
The other didn’t agree. Because they were bound to be found out before even getting inside. This was quite a nice neighborhood, which meant risk of security systems.
“I checked this place out. You know that,” Minho insisted.
Minho could tell him whatever; Thomas wasn’t convinced.
“We were fine at the last house,” he complained.
“You know we couldn’t stay any longer.”
As a rule, they only stayed at any given house for two weeks tops; be it uninhabited houses or families on vacation. Often less, depending on the neighborhood and how nosy people appeared to be around there. But Thomas had argued that their former place was perfect. A family’s holiday home, hidden away in the woods, no one around for months on end. And for once in his live he would’ve liked to not have to run.
“Come on, let’s get going,” Minho said softly. He took Thomas’s hand, drawing him along across the rest of the lawn, avoiding detection by hiding in the shadows with their backs against the fences that lined the garden.
When they reached the back door, Minho told Thomas to stay and wait. He knew the family hid a spare key underneath the flower pot, and he’d open the door first.
Thomas watched Minho as he got the key, turned the lock, and carefully slipped inside. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. All of this was what scared Thomas most. Being on the run was one thing. Living in other people’s houses, eating their food, and using their bathrooms was another. It was the actual breaking and entering that he hated more than anything.
Seconds later, Minho’s head popped out from the door. He gestured for Thomas to come over, which he did hesitantly, keeping his head low and footsteps light.
Once inside, Minho gently shut the door behind them, turned around to give Thomas a quick kiss. “Everything’s gonna be nice and quiet,” he said. It had become their mantra over the past year.
Their past year of running from family and cops and whoever else was now looking for them. It had been Minho’s idea, Thomas found himself thinking as he watched his boyfriend walk into the living room. They left the lights out, another – and very important – rule. No lights, no radio. TV only if they were one hundred percent sure it couldn’t be seen from outside; and then still no sound.
It was tiring.
Thomas followed Minho through the house, checking the different rooms, and together deciding that the guestroom was best shielded from curious glances.
They sat down, taking a deep breath and feeling grateful for having gotten inside without a hitch.
“You sleep,” Minho said. “I’ll keep watch for a while.”
Thomas let himself drop down on the bed, greatly enjoying the soft mattress and clean sheets. If their cabin in the woods had been nice and private, it was far from this clean.
He tugged on Minho’s arm, telling him to lie down with him.
“No one’s gonna come in,” Thomas now assured the other – never completely believing it himself. “You should sleep, too.”
Minho propped himself up on his elbow, looking at Thomas.
“What?” the latter asked.
He shrugged. “Appreciating the view,” Minho said with a smirk. He leaned down, connecting their lips.
“I love you,” he said once they broke apart.
Thomas smiled, took Minho’s hand in his. “I love you, too.”
He fell asleep with the same thought that haunted him every day. That, ironically, running from a crime they didn’t commit had turned them into criminals after all.