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All of Thomas' favourite 5 memories took place in the night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~ #1 ~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thomas had his head resting on the picnic blanket, and they were watching the stars.
"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Minho's low voice said, and Thomas shivered. "I used to do it when I was a kid."
"Yeah," Thomas agreed, smiling as he curled up unconsciously to the warmth Minho radiated. The stars were truly beautiful. "I agree."
The two laid on the blanket for a bit, their legs tangling with each other. It was normal for them to cuddle like this, per see, especially during the autumn. Thomas was especially sensitive to cold, hence why he had brought a thick quilt and worn three jumpers whereas Minho was only wearing a thin parka, and he still managed to radiate heat like a furnace. How he managed this Thomas had no idea, but he did.
Minho wrapped an arm around Thomas' lean frame, and it felt like coming home. Being great friends, they were very familiar with each other's habits, and Minho knew that Thomas would get cold. Thomas snuggled into the muscular arm of his best friend, and he knew he shouldn't be admiring how those biceps flexed under his neck. He shouldn't be mesmerised at how the dim light and smudged charcoal-like shadows dance on the surface of Minho's bronze skin.
The person admiring that should have been Minho's significant other. As much as Thomas wanted to be that person, he would never be. He would forever be Minho's loyal best friend, watching Minho date many other people, people a hundred times better than him. More beautiful. Smarter, sassier, more to Minho's taste. Thomas would never get to be that person.
The most Thomas would get is a place at Minho's side during the wedding, as his best man if he was lucky, but Minho would've probably moved on by then. Maybe he would've found another best friend, one cooler, funnier, more interesting than him. Would he ever receive an invitation to the wedding?
Yes, he told himself. Minho may not like you that way, but he would never give up the friendship. Never.
After all, no one knew Thomas better than Minho, and vice versa.
~~~~~~~~~~~~ #2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Happy birthday, Tom!" Teresa squealed, handing the aforementioned boy the present that was wrapped with a bright red bow.
Thomas took the present with a bright smile. His neon birthday-boy hat bounced on his head as he pounced on Teresa and engulfed her in a hug. "Thank you, thank you!" He squealed. If it was Minho, he would've been happy to receive Thomas as a birthday present, wrapped in a bow and everything. Minho might've been jealous of Teresa if he didn't know better; from an outsider's perspective, it did appear that Teresa was Thomas' girlfriend.
Minho remembered on the first day of high school when he thought the same thing.
"Hey, Greenie, he said, grinning at the Greenie who peered up at his shoes shyly. Ooh, a pretty one, Minho thought.
"Hi," the kid who looked younger than him said, sending him a small smile. "Nice to meet you."
"Ya know," Minho added, because he was an annoying person, okay? "You usually say your name first, and then say 'nice to meet you'." Newt would've smacked him if he'd heard Minho "treat the Greenies like that", again. Honestly, Minho didn't see it as a big deal, but when you're a Greenie...well, he supposed it might be a bit scary to be faced off with Minho's sarcasm on your first day of school. The last Greenie, a 9th grader, "klunked in his trousers", as Newt described it.
Not this Greenie, though. He seemed to get Minho's sense of humour. "I'm Thomas," he said, his plush lips curving into a bemused smile. "Nice to meet you. Happy?"
"Very," Minho grinned. "I'm Minho."
"You forgot to say 'nice to meet you'," Thomas giggled. Minho hadn't gotten enough of that giggle, ever since.
"Nice to meet you, happy?" Minho mimicked with a squeaky voice.
"I gue –––" Before he could continue the word, he was interrupted by a pretty girl with black hair and blue eyes.
"Gosh, Tom!" She complained. "This is nothing like how Brenda said 'normal' high school was going to go!"
"Don't remind me, Tess," Thomas grinned. Minho had expected him to start snogging the girl right there. "This is my sister, Teresa," he continued. Or...not
Minho only stood there dumbly as he processed the information. Thomas...sister...Teresa? He was going to introduce himself wittily, but what came out instead was a sigh of: "You have the same nose."
Thomas laughed, throwing his neck back. Minho feasted hungrily upon the pale flesh that was dotted with moles scattered bizarrely on his neck.
Minho had paid attention in astronomy class ever since that day.
"How did you know I broke the last mug?" Thomas asked, tearing the paper frantically.
It was actually Minho who told Teresa about the broken mug. Thomas had looked so heartbroken about it, Minho had to get him a new mug. But, since he already had the perfect present planned, he couldn't be the one to wrap it in paper and tie a delicate bow around it in Thomas' favourite colour, grass green.
Thomas' heart broke over the silliest things, but that was why Minho loved him.
"Shooting star!" Thomas squealed. "Make a wish!"
I wish I can have Thomas forever, Minho thought, and when Thomas asked with his adorable puppy eyes, he replied: "If I told you, it wouldn't come true."
~~~~~~~~~~~~ #3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Minho?" Thomas said, blinking owlishly. "Can I sleep with you?" The innocent way he said those words almost made Minho choke. "It's cold tonight."
Oh. Oh. Leave Minho to make a big deal out of nothing. "I thought you were going to ask to get laid."
Thomas snickered. "Why would I ask? I could totally get laid!" He could, but Minho didn't tell him that.
"Sure, shank," Minho said instead. "Totally."
Thomas, not waiting for Minho's response, positioned himself in the middle of Minho's bed. The little slinthead..."Some room for me?" Minho said sarcastically, raising a bushy brow at the scene on the bed. "It's my bed?"
"It's mine now," Thomas declared, making a snow angel motion with his arms. His head was in a cute but genuine bird's nest on top of his head, and his cheeks had a bright flush that Minho wanted to kiss. "I've set the flag first."
Great. He would be cuddling with Thomas tonight, then.
Minho lifted Thomas and threw him unceremoniously onto the other side of the bed. "Move over, you shank."
Thomas groaned, already looking fast asleep. Minho squeezed onto the left side of his queen-sized bed and turned them both over to face the window. The window was on, and from there, the moonlight illuminated Thomas' bright, pale skin that was dotted with beauty marks, like pepper scattered onto a white sheet of paper.
"Thanks, Min," Thomas slurred from the depths of sleep, turning to face the window as well. This new position conveniently let Minho spoon Thomas, and for Thomas to wiggle himself into the curve between Minho's thighs and stomach, but neither were complaining about that. "Good night."
"Night, shank," Minho returned, and let himself fall asleep to the smell of Thomas' strawberry shampoo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~ #4 ~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Seriously, Minho?" Thomas groaned. "You didn't ask Sonya out? What is wrong with you?" For over a year, Thomas had been trying to set Minho up with people he would like, and ones that deserved his amazing friend. Namely, someone who wasn't him. Completely different from him. "Why must you make my job so complicated? I'm trying, you know?"
"Maybe it's because there's already someone I want to date, Thomas," Minho growled exasperatedly, pacing in circles around their bench.
"Then why don't you?" Thomas murmured. Why wouldn't Minho date someone he wanted to?
"Because that person seems to be under the impression that I want to date other people," Minho said, looking straight at Thomas. It was like he was staring into Thomas' soul and telling him to "get lost, I've got somebody better and you'll never be that 'somebody'."
Thomas sniffled slightly, but kept it to himself. His best friend deserved the best, and though Thomas didn't think that person deserved Minho (since let's face it, Minho is amazing and no one deserves him), he could stand by his side. "I could try to help you convince them?"
Minho plopped down onto the sofa and laid his head back. "Why must you do this to yourself, Thomas?"
Thomas cocked a brow. He was radiating confusion by then. If Minho didn't want him to help, what did he want? "Do what?"
"Demeaning yourself," Minho sighed. "Making yourself less."
"I'm not!" Thomas retorted. He wasn't, right? Nobody was good enough for Minho.
"You're the person I want to date, Thomas!" Minho yelled, making Thomas jump into the air. "You're the one who keeps setting me up with other people! I just want to date you!" He rolled his eyes at the amber eyed boy who was frozen ridged, his hands clasped on his lap.
"You...want to date...me?" Thomas inquired, blinking slowly. He couldn't believe this was happening.
"Yes, I want to date you, Thomas," Minho rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to Thomas on the bench.
Thomas looked up at the stars. "I want to date you, too."
Minho wagged a finger at him. "We will talk about this insecurity thing, shank," he warned, but made no move to do it before pulling Thomas into a kiss.
As the two melted into the rejoice of their mouths, Thomas thought to himself: this is my favourite memory.
(Bonus: they get married under the moon and stars, laid stark for all to see.)