AU: Modern setting.

Pairing(s): Established Minho/Newt.

Word Count: 1,206

Prompt:

From virginshadowhunter-energy on Tumblr:

Minho/Newt Newt is tired and slightly delirious and Minho is amused xx

The sharp clink of a tea cup hitting a saucer dish causes Minho's eyes to raise from the computer screen he's staring at. The harsh glare of the screen forces him to wait for his eyes to adjust, staring into the dimly lit room. His fingers stop, poised above his keyboard. He's sitting crosslegged on the couch that they have, tabs open and word document prepped. He was going pretty strong through the essay, he'd like to think, and considering it was due in a couple days and he had only started that day, he was making remarkable progress. Newt, however, on the other hand, seemed to be struggling with his work.

Minho peers into the dining room, which was more or less a corner of the living room because there was no where else to place it in their small apartment. His eyebrows are furrowed, pulling down and he looks increasingly peeved, mouth quirking and nose wrinkling. His hair keeps falling in front of his face, growing longer since he abandoned the notion of hair cuts a couple months ago but not too shaggy and only swooped along the base of his skull. It's messy, which means that he's been tugging and pulling at his hair for the entirety of the the three hours that he had been sitting there - which means that Newt was likely having troubles.

"Hey, babe," he gives a sharp whistle but Newt doesn't look up, "How's it going over there?"

He sees Newt tap his pencil against the paper he's scrawling on, "This is a load of tosh and I sodding hate every second of it." His accent is thicker, and he rubs lead across his face in his attempt to scrub at his eyes. Minho frowns, watching Newt as he scrabbled at the handle of the tea cup he has and takes a quick swish. Minho had bought it for him for irony's sake, knowing he hated tea with a passion, but nonetheless he still used it - only for coffee, oddly enough. Which meant that Newt was drinking coffee, and judging by his tired posture, it was to stay awake.

"How about you take a break?" he suggests but Newt shakes his head, already heaving a sigh.

"This is my last paper, and it counts for a huge portion of my grade," he says, voice rough as he runs a hand up his face, then settles the other hand there as well, cupping his face, his voice coming out muffled between the slots of his fingers, "I am ready to toss this out and restart again."

Minho's frown deepens and he pushes the laptop away from him; his law paper would have to wait, he would rather assist his boyfriend of two years. "Maybe you should get comfortable, have a nap, get your magic brain rested up with an amazing nap with your's truly - then try again," he uncurls his legs from where he is and winces at the pins and needles that assault his limbs. Newt peeks at Minho through his fingers, and there is so much unamusement in those eyes that all Minho could do was raise his eyebrows and flash a smile, hoping for the best.

"Yeah? You'd probably have a different idea for 'getting comfortable' than I would," he sighs, and Minho smirks slightly because yes, yes he does. "I'm not in the mood; I'd rather finish this load of shite." Minho considers this then gives a slight shrug.

"How about you come over here? We don't have to do anything," he makes a disapproving noise, "You could just sit next to me, you know. I mean, I know I'm irresistible, but I can trust you can keep your hands to yourself while you work."

Newt frowns, and makes a move for his cup again, but frowns at it. Minho could only assume that it was empty. He watches the British male sigh and set down his cup again and shuffle through his papers. "Don't try any funny business," he points at Minho, emphasizing his point with his ballpoint pen. Minho makes a motion of crossing his heart and points to his eye, to which the blond only rolls his eyes and slowly scampers over, losing balance just slightly before he finally shuffles over, looking slightly disgruntled. Minho flashes him a thankful smile and scoots over a little bit so the lithe blond could prop himself next to Minho, back to the Asian's shoulder as he pulled the papers onto his lap, curling his toes into the edge of the couch.

It takes him a moment to grab his laptop, to stop thinking about Newt's solid weight against him. He pulls it up onto his lap and moves index finger along the touchpad, shaking the screen from its dimmed setting. He just about gets back into the groove of writing his own essay when he feels Newt shift against him so that his head is resting more completely against Newt. "You falling asleep on me?" he asks, amused.

Newt makes a noncommittal noise and shifts again, but doesn't say much else. Minho turns his head; Newt is so close that when he exhales, the blond's hair atop his head ruffles slightly. From this angle, it's a bit difficult to see his boyfriend's expression, but he could tell for a fact by his breathing that he was doing into a light doze. Giving a slight nudge and fighting off a genuine smile, Minho asks of him, "Hey, Newt. You want to take a nap for a while?"

"...You're really warm, Min." Is all that he gets and he chuckles and adjusts himself so that Newt could lean against him. Rather than doing that, he turns so that his back is pressed against the back of the couch and their ankles cross. It's oddly intimate, not that they hadn't been intimate before, but it's comforting. Newt presses his head onto Minho's shoulder and squints up at him. He watches the blond rub at his eyes, eyebrows pulling down and mouth pressing into a thin line. Cute, he thinks, mouth quirking again, but he can't help but think that he's so fortunate to have the blond as his boyfriend. "Give me thirty minutes," he says, and jabs his chin into Minho's shoulder for emphasis. Minho pretends to consider it, then nods.

"Yeah, of course," he murmurs, and Newt nods, then adjusts himself so that he is far more comfortable and leans completely onto Minho, almost draping across him - not that he minds, of course. He loves everything about Newt, even when he completely falls asleep on the Asian from time to time.

Minho checks on Newt, finding the blond easily falling asleep and, having no intention of falling through on his promise to Newt, instead, closes his laptop and pushes it a fair distance away. He looks over at Newt from the corner of his eye, feeling the warm feeling in his chest and knew that even though his wrist would hurt eventually, it would be worth it. So, pulling the stack of papers onto his lap, he begins to finish Newt's essay. If Newt got a couple hours of sleep as well, well, that was Minho's secret.