-Agh, we are getting so close to the end of this! XD I'm excited, guys, cuz even though 30 Shades is ending, there are more stories I can't wait to share with you. Some of these chapters may be shorter and not as well-written, mainly because my focus is on other writing. For that, I apologize, but I plan on ending this on a good note.
Also, I want to thank all of my readers for leaving such beautiful reviews on my stories. They mean more to me than I can ever say. If my book (currently unfinished lol) is ever on the way to being published, I promise you will be first to know.
Anyway, enough from me. Enjoy the story :)-
-DAY 28: Give each other massages-
Newt had already given Minho plenty of massages, after a hard day at work or a run. So he thought that he deserved this.
-X-X-X-
"Minhooooo... Minho, where are you?"
Newt dragged his socked feet over the floor as he trudged down the hall toward the kitchen. Hunched over in a baggy sweater, he felt thoroughly horrible. He'd spent too much time playing with Belle to tire her out and now that she was finally asleep, he could have a break. Thank god, because he'd done something to his back. It felt awful; it ached terribly and multiple muscles were tight and strained. He needed some help.
"Minhooo," he whined again, approaching the doorway to the kitchen. "What're you doinnnng?" Then he blinked when Minho appeared in the door, hastily running a hand over his spiky hair. He wore gym shorts with a pale blue T-shirt, and held a wooden spoon in one hand.
"Cooking," Minho answered at last, running his eyes over Newt's slumped form in sweatpants before him. He sounded preoccupied, as though he needed to get back to making dinner instead of talking to Newt at the moment. "What's up?"
Guilty because he'd interrupted something, Newt tugged at his sleeves. "I think I messed up my back," he admitted. "I—I was wondering if... But I know you're busy now, so you don't have to..."
"You want a massage?" Minho asked, as though this was obvious.
Newt nodded once. "But you really don't have to, if you're busy, or—"
He was cut off by Minho leaning in and pressing their lips together. A delighted hum left Newt's throat as Minho pressed a hand to the small of his back. It ended much too fast, leaving him aching for more. When he whimpered in disappointment and leaned toward Minho again, Minho laughed; their foreheads touched together, holding him back. "I'll give you one after I'm done," Minho promised, still grinning widely. "Okay?"
"No," Newt answered, shaking his head. "I won't survive until then unless you kiss me again."
"Newt, I have to get back— Newt," Minho laughed breathlessly as Newt pecked his lips once, then twice, tracing his jaw with a fingertip. Taking Newt's wrists, he pulled them away and held them to his chest instead. "I need to go, angel. I'll give you a massage later, I promise."
"I thought I was more important than dinner," Newt pouted, stepping forward until their bodies were flush against each other from head to toe.
"Trust me, Newt," Minho murmured, "it's taking a lot right now for me to let you go, instead of doing everything I wanna do to you right now."
Newt only wanted him more. There was still the memory of Minho's palm on his lower back and he desperately wanted it in other places, all over, just Minho. But he sighed in resignation and stepped back. "Fine," he muttered. "I'll wait for my massage. I guess. But don't expect any kind of...reward, afterward. You made me wait so you get nothing."
Minho splayed a hand over his heart in a who-me? gesture. "Sweetheart," he purred innocently, "by the time I'm done, you'll be begging to give me a reward."
"Go make dinner."
"What kind of reward were you thinking of, anyway?"
"Is something burning? I think you need to leave now."
"Not 'til I get a goodbye 'reward.'" Smiling teasingly, Minho held his hands behind his back and waited.
Newt rolled his eyes, but came closer to drop a brief kiss on Minho's mouth. Feeling sneaky, he slipped a hand under Minho's shirt and slid it over his hard stomach. The hitched breath he heard made him smirk as he pulled back. "I'll see you after dinner, Min," he said softly, and Minho could only stare back in a daze.
It would certainly be an interesting night.
-X-X-X-
"All right, Belle's sleeping and the dishes are done. Are you giving me a massage anytime soon?"
Newt was lying flat on his stomach in bed, atop the fluffy covers. He was waiting impatiently for Minho to just get in here already. Sitting through dinner with his back aching had been torture. He'd been looking forward to this literally all night. Propping his chin on his folded arms, he watched the closed door to their bedroom. It seemed to take a year for the doorknob to turn. "Okay, okay, I'm here," Minho said, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. He shook his head at Newt's stretched-out form. "How long have you been waiting?"
"It feels like a bloody hour."
"You already got your shirt off too, shank."
"Get over here."
Chuckling, Minho obeyed, approaching the bedside and pausing beside Newt. A sigh trickled out of the blonde when Minho rubbed a hand down his back once. The sigh morphed into a squeak when Minho kept going until he tickled the back of his leg. "Min—Wait, where are you going?" he stammered, as Minho started toward the other side of the room.
"Calm down," Minho replied, pulling open the drawer of their dresser. "I'm just gonna change first."
Newt stuck his chin up on his hand in indignation. "What d'you mean, get changed? You wear underwear to bed half the time, shuckface."
"Not ALL the time, though," Minho pointed out. He chose a black pair of pajama bottoms and shut the drawer again. Then, rolling his eyes at Newt, he stripped out of his shirt. Newt found himself watching the bend of muscle in Minho's body as he tossed his shirt into the hamper by the wall, and then the smooth length of his legs when he took off his shorts next. Blushing a bit, Newt glanced away again and Minho stepped into his pajama bottoms.
"Ughh," Newt groaned, flopping his head down on the mattress. "You're taking too lonnng."
"You're just impatient." Leaning on the bed, Minho pressed his lips once to Newt's hair. There was a sound of appreciation from the blonde, but nothing else. Minho grinned in amusement at Newt's unmoving form. Lazy little shank.
Newt felt the mattress dip beneath him as Minho climbed onto it. Then he gave a tiny gasp when Minho straddled his hips. He hadn't expected it to feel quite so intimate. He thought about teasing Minho a little, but then Minho's hands were on his back and he became a puddle on the bed.
"Ohhh..." Newt couldn't stifle the moan that drifted out of him as Minho's palms rubbed into the tight muscles beneath his shoulder blades.
A bubble of laughter came from Minho. "No more complaining now?" he asked airily.
"Whatever," Newt mumbled. His cheek was pillowed on his arms and his eyelids drooped shut. He couldn't remember the last time Minho have given him a massage. It was heaven. Minho knew every place to add pressure, digging his thumbs into the small of Newt's back and working his way up. Little tingles spidered under Newt's skin at the contact and it felt like warmth was pooling inside of him.
"Min," Newt sighed, as Minho's fingers found a knot by his right shoulder. "I think I love you."
"Well, I hope so," Minho joked. "Otherwise, what did I marry you for?"
Newt's voice was muffled in the mattress: "my good looks, duh."
"Can't argue with that." Minho's fingertips circled into Newt's back again, but the pressure changed as he bent forward; soft, he placed a kiss on the back of Newt's neck.
A smile tugged at the corner of Newt's mouth. "Now I know why you love it so much when I give you massages," he commented.
"Yeah, except you don't do this." With that, Minho dug tickling fingers into Newt's sides.
"Ah—! Minho!" Bursting into laughter, Newt squirmed, trapped under Minho. Minho's tickling only grew worse and Newt's sides ached. He giggled breathlessly as he twisted around beneath Minho, until he was on his back. "Cut it out!" he gasped, shoving at Minho's hands. "This wasn't part of the deal!"
"You should know that I never stick to any deals we make!" Minho snickered.
"Well, you SHOULD, you shank!"
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry."
Finally, the tickling stopped. Still straddling Newt's hips, Minho grinned down at the blonde as he laid back against the mattress in relief. Newt flopped a hand across his stomach. "Ugh...Thank God..." Then he shot a glare up at his husband. "You suck."
"Hey, I gave you a massage," Minho reminded him. "You should thank me."
"Whatever." But Newt couldn't stop his smile. Especially when Minho bent down to kiss him once more.
Maybe he was luckier than he'd thought.
