Hi guys! Here's the first in my collection of Minewt prompts, most of which I get on tumblr (shameless plug: becarefuldontdienewt). None of these are related necessarily and most of them are AU!

Disclaimer for the whole collection: I still don't own the rights to TMR!

Minho Park was going to be the death of him, of that Newt was one hundred percent certain. Why, you ask?

Newt D. Wright was one of the biggest names in modern cinema. He had performed on Broadway, worked with the biggest names in Hollywood, and directed some of the best-know romances of the twenty-first century. An all before he turned thirty. But his current project, Black November, was going to go down in history alongside Titanic as one of the most beautiful and tragic love stories to ever air on the big screen. It was the simple tale of forbidden love between two men in the 1920s. And it was absolutely perfect.

Well it would be, without Minho fucking Park messing everything up. He was beautiful, no doubt about that, and had seemed perfect for the part of Hyun-Ki, an adventurous Korean immigrant in his mid-twenties. Though Minho was undoubtedly a good actor, his arrogance was going to ruin the whole movie. Today was one of many days he had failed to memorize the script and, because of this, the production was falling behind schedule.

They've been trying to shoot the same scene, a passionate rendezvous, for an entire morning and Newt was getting frustrated. It was hard enough as it was to get the right lighting in the secluded courtyard without the main actors ruining take after take. Minho barely remembered his lines and his costar, Thomas, was struggling to stay focused.

"CUT!" Newt shouted after another disastrous take. "Minho, can you please be serious so we can get this scene finished before nightfall?"

"I was, sir," the Asian responded sarcastically. "It's him that's messing me up," he added, nodding to Thomas, who wasn't paying attention.

Newt rolled his eyes and muttered a direction to the cameraman before replying, "No it's not."

"I swear it is! He doesn't know how to kiss and it's throwing me off!"

"I'm starting to believe neither of you do. What happened? You two had such good chemistry during the auditions."

Minho crossed his arms like a petulant child and muttered, "I am a great kisser."

"No," Newt responded, his voice going shrill with annoyance. "You aren't. This is supposed to be passionate and you're just really sloppy."

"Like you'd be any better," Minho said under his breath. At this point, the crew had taken off their gear, knowing it'd be a while before the two settled down.

"I would be," replied the annoyed blonde. "But I'm not the one getting paid five million to put on a stellar performance. Yours isn't even decent."

"Well I didn't hire myself"

"I hired you because I thought you were a good actor."

Minho opened his mouth, as if to fire back a scathing remark, but shut it quickly. He shook his head and got up to leave. The blonde director, seeing this, jumped up to stop his lead actor from quitting.

"Look, I'm sorry, Minho. I went too far. I do think you're a great actor, I just haven't seen any passion in your performance today." He slowly approached the Asian, genuine concern etched into his face. Minho refused to answer him.

Newt took a shaky breath. "This is how I want you to kiss." With that, he reached one hand out to Minho's cheek and pulled their lips together.

He had always thought that there's no such thing as a perfect kiss. No such thing as fireworks or electricity. This kiss, though, was just that. It started slow, agonizingly slow, but with a heat that spread fire through his entire body. When he wove one hand into Minho's perfect hair, the other man pulled him closer and ran his tongue along Newt's upper lip. The blonde let him in, a small groan leaving his lips. His hands were never still, moving from Minho's face to his neck to his waist. The Asian was letting out low moans and Newt didn't think he'd ever heard anything hotter. Nothing could compare to this, their lips on each other, rough and needy and desperate.

With a jerk, Minho pulled back, his eyes wide and his lips red. Suddenly, Newt was all too aware of their audience, his face flushing red as he made eye contact with an uncomfortable Thomas.

"Yeah, I – I think I can do that," Minho said, regaining his composure.

The blonde ran a shaky hand through his hair. "Good that."