Of Morning Showers & Calico Kittens
...
It was strange, but in a good way.
Different, but pleasant.
New, but as easy as breathing.
All of these described Minho's new life. His new life, in a somewhat-small, but cozy house, with its warm walls and wooden furniture. The wooden furniture that Coal was now crawling across. He watched in amusement as the calico kitten struggled to balance on the back of a kitchen chair. The little ball of fur was reaching for the counter across from it, even though it obviously couldn't reach. Minho leaned back against the counter and crossed his ankles, watching the kitten struggle for a moment. Coal snatched her paw back to stay on the chair and mewed pointedly at him.
"Okay, okay, sorry," he said, and held out his hand to her, palm up. Coal stepped delicately onto his hand and then started to climb up his arm. Her tiny claws hooked in his gray tee as she reached his shoulder and rested there; curling into a ball, she meowed as though to say thank you. "You're so lazy," he remarked, smiling. "You could've made it without me helping."
Coal just looked at him through striking amber eyes. She seemed to be saying, really?
"I'm serious." Minho scratched her behind the ears and she burrowed deeper into the crook of his neck. "You're gonna be a fat, lazy cat when you grow up if you keep making me do everything for you."
Coal purred and rubbed her pink nose into his hair in response. "Hey, don't mess it up," Minho protested with a laugh. She batted at his spiked ebony hair with her paw then and he grinned, picking her up and cradling her against his chest. More purrs flowed from the kitten's chest as he stroked her back. "Guess what, Coal?" he asked quietly.
Coal blinked up at him.
"We live here now." Minho's grin widened. He lifted her closer as though to share a great secret. "And guess what else?" He brought his hand to her face and let her sniff at the ring on his finger. "I'm married."
Coal gave the ring a little lick and he laughed at her. "I'm such a moron, talking to a cat." He set her down on the counter and she padded around to explore. She of course went straight for the coffeemaker, sniffing curiously. She looked up at him. "I am not giving you coffee after last time," he told her. "Besides, I gotta go. It's nine-thirty in the morning. You know what that means, don't you?"
Coal studied him like a human would as he started for the doorway, cocking her head: what?
Minho turned and grinned mischievously. "Newt's in the shower." And he disappeared around the corner.
Why did Minho do this nearly every morning? Because it was hilarious. Newt was almost always in the shower at the same time, every day. The first three times Minho jumped him, he tried changing times. Minho figured it out. Newt tried locking the bathroom door. Minho picked the lock. Finally, Newt just gave up on trying to ever get anywhere on time because thanks to showers and Minho, he was always late. It was especially funny, because he was still just as surprised and startled when Minho busted in there as he'd been the first day. That boy just never learned.
Minho made his way down the hall that led to the bathroom, humming Uptown Funk to himself. He reached the right door and heard the muffled hiss of water from inside. A smirk quirked his lips as he opened the door as quietly as he could and slipped inside. The sound of pounding water grew louder. Minho looked at the frosted glass of the stall and blinked.
The door to the shower was open.
No one was inside.
What the shuck—?
"GOT YOU!" Minho had exactly three seconds to recognize Newt's voice before the blonde shoved him from behind—straight into the shower. Minho yelped and staggered against the wall. His socked feet slipped over the tiles. He heard the bang of the door slamming shut and saw Newt's shadow, holding it in place. Then he froze.
The water. Was. Cold. As. Shucking. ANTARCTICA.
"WHAT THE HELL?!" Minho pressed his back against the wall, trying to keep as much of his body out of the pouring water as he could. It didn't work. His T-shirt was soaked through in thirty seconds, and his jeans, and his now de-spiked hair. He glowered at the door as though he could burn holes through it. "Newt! What're you trying to do, kill me?"
Newt's laughter, light and crystalline, bubbled from the other side of the glass. "I'm trying to get revenge," he replied, a smile in his voice. "I'm sick of being harassed by you every morning. You gotta learn a lesson."
"HARASSED?" Minho echoed in disbelief.
"It's not fun being interrupted in the shower," Newt explained matter-of-factly.
"You never complained though, now did you?"
"Yes I did."
"Not while I was taking my clothes off—"
"OKAY, so I didn't complain WHILE we were IN the shower," Newt corrected himself. "But I'm complaining now. This is going to stop." His voice was still smug, triumphant. He was enjoying this too much.
Minho hugged himself as the icy water trickled down his back and across his chest. This had to be attempted murder. "All right, fine!" he called through the door. "What d'you want me to do, promise not to jump you in the shower anymore?"
"That's a good idea," Newt replied, as though the thought had ever occurred to him. "Repeat after me. I, Minho Newton..."
Minho rolled his eyes and sighed in defeat. Why had he agreed to take Newt's last name? "I, Minho Newton," he repeated, in a much flatter voice.
"Solemnly swear on the life of my cat..."
"Solemnly swear on the life of my cat..."
"To never, under any circumstances..."
"To never, under any circumstances..."
"Break into the shower with Newt again."
"Break into the shower with Newt again." Minho waited. The door didn't open. "Happy now?"
"Mmmmmm," Newt hummed thoughtfully. His shadow shifted as he brought a hand to his chin. "Nope! Take off your shirt."
Minho glared. "Why?"
"Do not question me," came the airy response.
"But it's..." Minho shivered as the water pounded relentlessly down on him. "...it's cold," he finished lamely.
"I want. The shirt. Off. Now." Newt was grinning; Minho could hear it in his voice.
"Shuck-face," Minho muttered to himself. With a growl, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and stripped it off. He let it hit the floor with a wet splat. He arched an eyebrow at Newt's shadowy figure. "There! NOW can I come out?"
"Actuallyyyyy...no. No you can't," Newt decided. "I want the pants off too."
Minho dragged a hand over his face and back into his jagged hair. He stared at the door. Could he bust out? Maybe? ...nah. Newt would probably taze him or something. "You little..." He grumbled under his breath and grudgingly started to undo his belt. "You know, marriage is supposed to be a HAPPY thing," he stated meaningfully. "Not shoving your husband into showers and making him strip so that he gets hypothermia." With a loud clatter, he tugged his belt off and dropped it beside his shirt. Sighing loudly, he unbuttoned his jeans and reluctantly peeled them off too. He now stood, arms crossed, completely drenched, in boxers.
What a happy thing marriage was, indeed.
"Okay! Can I please come out of here now?" Minho demanded. "Or do you want the boxers off too?"
To his surprise, the door opened. Newt peered in at him, a smirk on his face and his azure eyes glimmering. His blonde hair fell across his eyes as he tipped his head. "You know...I think I do want the boxers off too," he replied playfully, stepping into the shower. He snagged his smile by biting his lower lip and backing Minho up against the wall. "But I can take care of that myself."
Minho couldn't stop his crooked grin as Newt brushed their foreheads together. "I hate you, you know that right?" he said, bringing his hands to Newt's waist.
Newt shook his head in mock hopelessness. "You know you love me," he murmured. He pecked Minho's nose before reaching out to turn on the hot water.
The air warmed around them instantly. Minho sighed in relief and Newt chuckled. He teasingly kissed Minho's forehead. "Now admit it."
"Admit what?" Minho asked, playing with the buttons of Newt's shirt, undoing them.
Newt placed another kiss on Minho's jaw and slid his hands over Minho's rippling, toned abs. "Admit that you love me," he whispered.
"Never," Minho replied childishly.
Newt slipped his hands to Minho's chest and smiled wickedly. He nudged Minho's head aside with his own, trailing his mouth back to his ear. A tiny gasp escaped Minho as Newt gently bit down on his earlobe and breathed, "say it. For me, darling."
Minho let out a shaky breath. He finally got Newt's shirt open and pushed it from his shoulders. Newt let it slip off and then he forced their bodies flush against each other. Teasing, he traced his fingers down Minho's side to dip into his waistband. Tipping Minho's chin up with his free hand, he licked a drop of water from Minho's bottom lip. Minho whimpered in defeat. "I love you."
Newt cocked his head like he hadn't expected this. "I love you too, Min," he murmured. Then he kissed him, hard. Minho kissed back hungrily, sinking his fingers deep into Newt's back pockets. He nipped at Newt's lips and the blonde's fingertips dug into his hips. "God, you're so—" Newt broke off with a shaky moan as Minho reached up and buried his fingers in blonde hair; he tilted Newt's head back and kissed his way down Newt's exposed neck, sucking the water from his skin. "You're so...shucking...sexy," Newt gasped out.
Minho smirked. "Oh, now you think I'm sexy?" he asked in a low voice. He ran his tongue along Newt's collarbone and listened to his angel moan again. "I don't know if I forgive you yet, but you're getting there, sweetheart."
Newt was panting, blue eyes fogged over. "You bloody tease," he growled, sinking their mouths together again. He was kissing Minho roughly, all tongue and teeth and heat.
"You shucking angel," Minho breathed out between kisses. He seductively rocked their hips together, because he knew it drove Newt wild. Newt arched deliciously into Minho, a broken sound leaving his throat. Smug, Minho started kissing his husband senseless and began to unbutton Newt's jeans.
That was when, quite suddenly, the shower door was nudged open wider. And both Newt and Minho stiffened when they heard a very insistent meow from just outside.
Minho looked over Newt's shoulder. His eyebrow's rose. "Coal?"
The little calico sat near the shower door, staring at him imploringly. Her amber eyes were round as she mewed again, pleading. Hungry.
"You hungry?" Minho asked.
Newt groaned in exasperation and dropped his head onto Minho's shoulder. "Can we please just ignore her for once?" he begged.
In reply, Minho called to Coal again. "What, Coal?" Newt groaned again. "Are you hungry?"
Coal flopped her head into her forepaws and gazed at him with puppy eyes. The answer was yes.
"That cat is going to be the death of me," Newt muttered.
Coal meowed indignantly.
"Hey, you want me, you get the cat too," Minho pointed out. He stroked his fingers back through Newt's hair, grinning when the blonde purred in pleasure. "C'mon, Newt."
"Fine," Newt grumbled, reluctantly loosening his hold on Minho. "Feed the cat. But get dressed before you leave water everywhere in the house." He scowled at Coal and then at his husband, and then at the soaked clothes on the floor of the shower. He paused for a long moment. "I didn't think this through."
Minho smiled sweetly and pecked Newt's mouth. "No. No, you did not." He snagged his drenched jeans from the floor and let streams of water run from them. "Maybe NEXT time," he began with a smirk, "you'll think TWICE before jumping me in the shower."
He had to duck when Newt threw his shirt at him.
