-Another short one! Hope you like it, and thanks for the reviews :)-
-DAY 6: Make time for morning sex-
Mornings were always hurried, most of the time. Belle had to go to school, Minho ran sometimes, Newt got Belle ready... It was hard to share more than a passing "hello."
That's why it only happened on a Sunday, when Belle was sleeping over at a friend's house, and Minho was too lazy to run.
Newt was definitely not complaining.
-X-X-X-
This morning, Newt didn't know what it was about him, but Minho looked positively delectable.
Newt had woken up first, dragging himself out of dreams as the golden morning sunlight filtered in through the window. First, he tried to remember what day it was and why Annabelle wasn't jumping on the bed to wake them up. Then he remembered it was Sunday and she was gone on a sleepover at Katie's. And then he'd decided to sleep in just a little while longer. He'd shifted in bed to his side, messy hair flopping over his eyes, and had paused. He'd rolled right into Minho by mistake, though not hard enough to wake him up.
Minho was gorgeous this morning: ebony hair a mess, shirtless, in only briefs, the sheets covering him from the waist down. One arm was shoved up under his pillow and he laid on his side. Quiet, slow breaths came from him as he slept. Newt, who had ended up face-to-face with Minho's collarbone, stared stupidly. His arms were folded in front of him and barely brushed Minho's skin. Newt couldn't remember the last time Minho had looked so sexy before he even woke up. It made warmth twist in Newt's stomach.
"...Min?" he tried in a soft voice.
A garbled mumble of syllables left Minho in his sleep, and Newt only caught the last of it. "Newt..." In his sleep, Minho tossed an arm around Newt's waist and forced him up against Minho's body. Then he sank back into his dreams.
Newt, nose now grazing Minho's chest, couldn't think clearly at all. His hands were pinned between his body and Minho's, tucked under his chin. A hand was pressing into the small of his back, making it impossible to move. But he didn't mind, not at all. Minho smelled so damn good, like soap and skin. His body was warm on Newt's, so warm that Newt suddenly felt like the outside world was chilly. Taking advantage of Minho being asleep, Newt cuddled closer to his husband and rested his cheek on his chest. The fantastic sensation of warm skin and toned muscle made him close his eyes with a sigh.
I could get addicted to this so easily, Newt thought. The feel of Minho holding him like this, under the covers, almost made Newt fall asleep again. But he had other ideas in mind for his husband. Opening his eyes to dreamy crescents, he started placing tiny kisses on Minho's collarbone. He let his lips venture higher, tasting the silky, fine skin of Minho's throat. He allowed his tongue to graze skin once and gave a low hum. This was MUCH more addicting than just laying with Minho.
After a few seconds of Newt's encouragement, Minho stirred. A little, breathy noise of tiredness came from his lungs and his hand went from limp to deliberate in how it curled in Newt's T-shirt. "...angel?" he mumbled sleepily, eyelids fluttering to show beautiful, dark irises.
Newt paused in his kissing. "Hey," he murmured fondly.
"Hey." Minho smiled a lazy, easy smile that could send men and women alike to their knees. "You're awfully awake this early." He rubbed Newt's back in circles.
"I am," Newt agreed. "But only because I want something."
Slipping a hand under Newt's shirt, Minho massaged his back with probing fingertips. "What d'you want?"
Newt's answer came in a purr. "You."
"Me?" Minho repeated delightedly.
Newt hummed as Minho's fingers skimmed down the curve of his back and hip to stop at his thigh. His skin burned where Minho curled his fingers in the fabric of Newt's boxers. "Yeah," he confessed in an exhale of breath.
"Angel," Minho murmured, hand still teasing on Newt's thigh, "I'm already yours."
Newt lifted his chin up in silent invitation. A pleased noise left Minho's throat and he claimed Newt's lips with his own. It was a deep, numbing kiss, and all coherent thought flew out of Newt's mind. He was only aware of sheets on his skin, Minho's hand now gripping his thigh, and the sugary taste of Minho on his lips. Minho's mouth urged Newt's lips apart, sharing heated breaths. Newt breathed out, "yes," and Minho licked the word from his lips. Before he knew what was happening, Minho had rolled them over, pinning Newt beneath him. They were at an angle on the bed, Newt's toes barely hanging over the edge of the mattress. He didn't care.
Arching up into the kiss, Newt tangled his fingers deep in Minho's hair. He looped a leg around Minho's and canted his hips up off the mattress. Their stomachs brushed, hips pressing together, and Minho moaned. He slid a hand up Newt's side, pushing his oversized, blue tee up his body. Newt felt fingers exploring his chest and broke the kiss to whimper.
"Lie back, sweetheart," Minho whispered in Newt's ear, prompting shivers. "And take off your clothes."
Newt let out a nervous laugh, as Minho tugged darkly at Newt's waistband. "What if I don't want to?" he challenged.
Minho grinned a truly wicked grin. "Don't make me ask twice."
Newt didn't.
