Hamilton Oneshots [DISCONTINUED]

20. Thaurens

"John, dinner's ready, baby," Thomas called out from the kitchen, hoping John could hear him.  "John?" Thomas set down the pot of pasta, that was surprisingly not mac and cheese.  "Peaches?" Thomas trotted into the living room seeing John curled up on the couch.  Thomas smiled, pulling John into his arms, though it faltered slightly.  John always seemed to feel lighter and lighter.  "I made dinner, sweetheart."

"I'm not hungry," John mumbled, resting his head on Thomas' chest.  Thomas frowned, running his hands through John's soft hair.

"John, that's what you said earlier, when I made you lunch.  And yesterday, when I made you dinner, and yesterday when I made you lunch.  You're worrying me, honey," Thomas said gently, rubbing John's back.  Though John was wearing one of Thomas' bulky sweatshirts, that hung loosely on his frame, Thomas could still feel his ribs through the fabric.

"I'm just not hungry," John said, shrugging.  He looked up at Thomas, giving him a smile.  "We could just go to bed and cuddle?" John asked, trying to persuade Thomas.

"Baby, you know I hate it when you try to distract me from something important," John pouted, looking away.  "You're getting really thin, I'm extremely concerned.  You need to eat," Thomas grabbed John's chin gently, turning John's face so that their eyes met.  "I'm serious, y'know."

"I don't get why you're making this such a big deal," John snapped, rolling his eyes.  "I'm just not hungry, Thomas.  You're overreacting."

Thomas set John down, crossing his arms.  "Take off the hoodie," John's face pales slightly at the request, and he shook his head profusely.  "John, if there's no issue, you'll take the hoodie off for me," John wanted to protest, but Thomas' voice was so soft, his eyes so concerned.  "Please?  Peaches, I really need to know that you're okay."  John bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut as he curled his fingers around the hem of he hoodie, pulling it over his head.  He wasn't wearing a shirt underneath, so his chest was bare for Thomas' eyes to scan. 

"I'm sorry," John mumbled, his thin, thin frame shivering in the slightly chilly air of their apartment.  Thomas' was expecting to see John's ribs prominently sticking out, but he didn't expect to see the scars across his stomach, cuts that looked deep, and words carved into the skin, such as FAT, WORTHLESS, and the one Thomas found most heart-wrenching, UNLOVABLE. 

"John..." Thomas choked out, his hand covering his mouth as he started to cry.  "Y-You did this to yourself?" John nodded, staring at the ground, feeling uncomfortable and insecure having his freckled skin open to Thomas' view.  "Why?" Thomas couldn't stop staring at the wounds and scars.

"I hate myself, Tommy.  I always have," John stated calmly, like he was speaking about an everyday thing such as going to the store or taking a walk.  "I hate my stupid freckles, I hate my hair, I hate my fucking eyes, they're a gross shade of green.  I hate my body, I hate how fat I am, and I hate that I'll never be as hot as you.  I hate my personality, my laugh, my smile, every single fucking thing about myself, Thomas." John couldn't look at Thomas, he couldn't bring himself to, so he was caught off guard when Thomas threw his arms around him, starting to sob into his chest.  "Tommy?" John asked, staring at Thomas like he was an alien.  Thomas never cried, and if he did, it was never that hard.  "Thomas, are you okay?"

Thomas pulled away to kiss John's face, trailing down to any bare skin he could find, careful around the scarred parts.  "I love you so much," Thomas said, his voice shaky and sad, tears were still rolling down his face.  "I love everything about you.  Everything, John.  I don't get why you hate yourself so much.  You're the only sunshine in my life," John was taken aback by the statements.  "Would you ever leave me?" At first John thought he meant breaking up with him, but he understood.

"I've thought about it," John said honestly, only making Thomas cry more.  "Thomas please don't cry, it hurts watching you like this.

"Please don't ever leave me, John.  I love you with all my heart," John cupped Thomas' face with his hand stating a quick "I promise".  Thomas tried to compose himself as he lifted John, carrying him to the bathroom.  He set him on the counter before addressing his wounds, cleaning them up before bandaging them.  "Now you're eating, and do not try to argue with me," Thomas said as he carried John back out to the kitchen.  "You are not fat, baby.  You're too skinny.  Now eat," he handed John a bowl.

John sighed, knowing Thomas wasn't going to give up.  "Okay."

A/D:  I rushed this majorly, sorry.