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“Oh, shi-” Minho’s eyes widen as he stops in his tracks. Water is starting to flood their living room, streaming in from underneath the backdoor. “Thomas, get over here!” he shouts.
Minho starts to look for a mop, cloths, anything to soak up the water, picking up things from the floor as he goes. Shoes here, a box there, Thomas’s laptop bag with laptop.
“Minho, if you finally want to talk, shouting like that is not the way to start,” Thomas is saying when he comes in from the hallway. He, too, stills when he sees the damage already done. “Well that’s just perfect,” he says in exasperation.
It has been raining for days now, and the ground has become saturated so much so that water levels started to rise and found no other way to escape than right into their house.
“Just get me a bucket or something!” Minho again raises his voice. He has gathered some towels and uses them to try and clog the door.
Thomas rolls his eyes, but goes to fetch one anyway. When he returns, Minho is sitting on his knees on the floor, wiping at his forehead.
“I think this should keep it out,” he says. He takes the bucket from Thomas and puts it down. With another towel, he starts cleaning up part of the floor, wringing out the dirty water and moving to another spot. Thomas does the same.
“I don’t think anything’s really damaged,” Minho says. He looks around. Some of the lowest parts of cabinets and chairs closest to the door got wet, but they are far from ruined.
“You got here in time,” Thomas mutters.
“I did.”
They continue clearing the floor. The bucket starts to fill up so much Thomas has to empty it halfway through. Fifteen minutes later they’re about done. Minho switches the towels blocking the door for dry ones and throws everything else in the washer. He returns to the living room, sits down on the sofa next to Thomas.
“Not going back to your room?” Minho asks, willing himself to sound uninterested.
“Our room,” Thomas corrects him. “And no. We have to talk.”
Minho rolls his eyes. “Do we, though? You were late. I’m not sure what there is to say.”
With a sigh, Thomas leans back onto the sofa, brushing his hands through his hair in frustration.
Yes, he had been late. Minho had been looking forward to going out with their friends – they hadn’t seen them in so long – but Thomas got stuck at work and there was no point in catching up with them later. When he told Minho he shouldn’t have waited, the man only huffed.
Because Thomas doesn’t say anything, Minho continues, “If you like staying behind with your boss more than coming home to me, that’s fine. Just would’ve liked to know it before we moved in together.”
Thomas turns his head to stare at his boyfriend. “Minho, that’s not true and you know it.”
The man doesn’t look at him.
Taking a deep breath, Thomas gears himself up. “I stayed behind because my boss was about to fire me,” he said, the words coming out in a rush.
Now it’s Minho’s turn to stare. “Wha-”
Before Thomas can say anymore, Minho moves over to his side of the couch. He takes Thomas’s face into his hands, thumbs already wiping away at the tears that have formed in his eyes.
“I was there begging for my job,” Thomas adds, voice breaking slightly. He forces a smile, fights down the tears. He softly pulls on Minho’s hands to make him let go.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Minho asks. He’s frowning. He doesn’t understand why Thomas would keep such a thing from him.
Thomas shrugs. “I don’t know. You were already upset. And I should’ve been home for you.”
Minho’s mouth falls open slightly. He shakes his head. “No, Thomas, please.” He wraps his arms around his boyfriend, hugging him close. “So, how did it go?” he asks carefully.
The other laughs a shaky laugh. “I got another chance to prove myself,” he says.
Minho’s laughing now, relieve flooding over him. “That’s good. That’s really shucking good.” He pulls back, cups Thomas’s cheek and kisses him.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, holding their foreheads pressed together.
Thomas brushes it off. “It’s alright,” he says. He smiles, more wholeheartedly now, and kisses Minho again. “Just don’t let me spend another night alone in bed,” he adds after a moment.
Minho smirks. “I won’t.”