-I enjoyed this way too much. This chapter is definitely rated M guys, but you know I never get gross, haha. But still. Rated M. Minewt fluff. You're welcome :)

And thanks again for such amazing reviews!-

-DAY 16: Take a bubble bath or shower together-

It was sickening, how sweet Minho could be sometimes.

-X-X-X-

The day pretty much sucked. In every possible way.

First, Newt's computer had broken in a shower of sparks. Now he couldn't send his newest pictures to Sonya, up at her photography gallery shop. So no money was going to be made by Newt. Then, his freakin' illness had picked today, OF ALL SHUCKING DAYS to give him hell. He had a monster of a headache throbbing against the inside of his skull. It had started early that morning and progressed throughout the whole day. Finally, after sprawling out on the couch for hours, he'd succumbed to it and taken his medicine. It only helped a little though. He still had the damn headache.

AND THEN, Belle had gotten home and burst through the door like a lunatic. She started shouting about how she wanted Daddy to play with her and Newt, despite all his protests, was suckered into it. Unfortunately, Belle wanted to play a game that involved jumping up and down on her bed while Newt laid on it; the goal: getting him to fall off. Well, he was certainly happy that he didn't fall off, but the constant shifting and bumping of the mattress had sent an ache into his muscles.

He'd been eternally grateful when Belle grew tired of the game. He actually managed to get her to sleep and she was back in her room, peacefully napping now. As soon as her eyelids slipped shut, he was out of that room. He threw on old black sweatpants and a white tank top, then collapsed onto the sofa. There was no way in hell he was moving from this spot. No way.

"Hey, Coal," he mumbled, as the calico cat pawed at his leg from the floor. "You tired too?" The cat mewed curiously in reply and Newt dangled an arm over the side of the couch to scratch her ears. Her fur was silk-soft to the touch, making him smile slightly. She started purring, rubbing her head against his palm. "At least you love me."

At that moment, there was the clicking of the front door swinging open. Then the sound of a guitar case being set down and Minho's voice. "Hey, where is everybody?"

Well, Coal was gone in two seconds flat. Newt sighed in defeat as she darted away, tail flicking eagerly. He listened to Minho toeing out of his boots and making it a few steps forward, before Coal tackled his legs. "Coal!" Minho exclaimed in boyish delight, and Newt couldn't help but smile again. "C'mere, kitten..."

There was a flurry of purrs and paws batting Minho's knees. That cat had a serious obsession with her owner. Minho seemed to return the affection, because he was still in the hall, petting his precious cat. Newt felt a strange twinge of jealousy. He wanted some attention after such a rough day. Clearing his throat, he called to his husband, "hi, Minho."

There was a shift as Minho presumably stood up from kneeling next to Coal. "Hey, Newt," he replied warmly. "You in the living room?"

Newt frowned poutingly. He'd wanted to be called "angel" by that low, lovely voice. "Yeah, I'm in here."

"Where's Belle?" The padding of footsteps moved through the hall as Minho entered the living room. Pausing beside the couch, he blinked when he glimpsed Newt laying on his back. "Why're you lying down?" he asked.

"Belle's back in her room, sleeping," Newt answered the first question. Then he shifted slightly and winced. "And I'm lying down because she screwed up some joints while we were playing earlier."

Minho grimaced at Newt's strained expression. "You don't look so good," he remarked cautiously.

"I don't FEEL so good." Sighing, Newt raked a hand through his blonde hair. "I had a bad day."

"Really?" Moving over to kneel next to the couch, Minho took Newt's hand. He intertwined their fingers and studied Newt's face.

"Yeah. Laptop broke and I gotta headache. Not to mention how much everything aches after Belle's shucking game."

"Aw, baby," Minho cooed in sympathy, placing a kiss to Newt's knuckles.

Swallowing at the fondness in the gesture, Newt used their closeness to admire his husband. Minho had on the most amazing black skinny jeans and a gray sweater. His always-styled hair gleamed like ebony velvet, bringing out a great contrast to his olive skin. Even with the slight bagginess of the sweater, his broad shoulders were clearly outlined. Newt told himself that since he had a bad day, he deserved a chance to imagine hauling Minho onto the couch with him, maybe getting his hands up in that sweater...

His enticing imagination was interrupted when Minho grazed his lips to Newt's knuckles again. "Do you want me to do anything for you?" he asked sweetly.

Ravish me right here on this couch, Newt thought feverishly. He swallowed the words though. "No, I'm fine," he muttered. "Just being a wimp, I guess."

"Are you sure?" Minho ran his lips absently down Newt's palm. He found the ragged scar on Newt's wrist and trailed little kisses along it.

Newt closed his eyes, basking in the soft lips on his skin. "I'm sure," he hummed distractedly. "I'm just gonna lay here for a while longer."

Minho seemed to think for a moment. There was silence from him. Then he released Newt's hand. "Okay." There was a creak from the floor as he bent to kiss Newt's forehead. "Let me know if you change your mind," he murmured.

Was he pitching his voice down on purpose? He knew Newt loved it all husky like that. The blonde scolded his stupid reactions to Minho and nodded silently. He didn't trust his voice to stay steady if he spoke. He listened to the sounds of Minho standing up and walking away. It sounded like he was heading farther back into the house, down the hall that led to the bedrooms. Newt assumed he was going to change or something. Newt didn't blame him; it was nice to be in lazy clothing after this day.

He dozed for a while longer, unmoving. The dull throb in his head had subsided to a nag near the back. But it was bearable. The pain in his muscles was not, however. Wrinkling his nose in discomfort, he tried stretching out a bit. Arms above his head, he pushed his toes into the arm of the couch. It felt good, the way his spine cracked once and his arms pulled. But it was only temporary relief. "I hate my life," he muttered to himself, relaxing onto the cushions once more. "Officially hate it." He needed a massage. Or a spa to go to. Or a relaxing vacation. Or a—

"Newt, get up."

Newt jerked in surprise at Minho's sudden reappearance. Opening his eyes, he squinted up at Minho, who stood over him again. "What d'you mean?" he asked. "I can barely move."

Minho shook his head, a half-smile quirking his lips. "Doesn't matter," he replied. "Get up. I gotta show you something." Propping his hands on his hips, he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"What is it?" Newt asked suspiciously.

"Just trust me."

"...okay." Pushing himself up on his elbows first, Newt clambered off of the couch. His brows rose slightly when Minho eagerly grabbed his hand and led him from the room. "Whoa, wait, what?" he stammered, stumbling a little behind. His limp always grew worse when his body ached like this, so it was harder to keep up. What was Minho so excited about?

"You're gonna love it," Minho assured him, glancing back once. His dark eyes glowed.

Newt cocked his head in puzzlement, but didn't argue anymore. He let Minho lead him past the kitchen and down the hall that ended in their bedroom. At first, he thought that Minho just wanted sex. I won't argue with that, he decided, already getting high on the idea of stripping Minho's clothes off under him. But Minho halted before he reached that door. Turning into the bathroom, he pulled Newt after him.

"Hey, what're we—?" Newt stuttered, as Minho dragged him through the doorway. He nearly tripped over himself as they entered the white-walled room. He heard the door shut behind him with a heavy click and tried to glance at their surroundings. He caught a glimpse of something orange on the sink, but then Minho was cradling his jaw. Newt's eyes widened as Minho kissed him passionately, teasing his lips apart and tasting his breath. Minho was kissing him the way he had on their wedding day, all soft and slow. He tasted so good and Newt whined from the back of throat as their lips moved together.

Minho chose then to pull back, resting his forehead to Newt's with a slow smile. "Surprise," he said quietly, and stepped aside.

Newt looked into the room—and gaped in astonishment.

The bathroom light wasn't even turned on; that orange he'd seen earlier came from a fat red candle glowing on the sink. There was another next to it, and still others, scattered artfully about the room. They all tossed up a scent of cinnamon, making the room smell like Christmastime. The bathtub had been filled with steaming water, a towel folded neatly beside it. Piled on top were iridescent bubbles, reaching nearly seven inches high above the water. It was the most inviting scene Newt had ever seen in his life, especially after this DAY.

He turned his incredulous gaze to a very hopeful Minho. "Minho...did YOU do all this?" he asked.

"Well." Minho toed the floor, lowering his gaze bashfully. He was painfully adorable. "I knew you needed something to cheer you up and I've been saving the candles for a while..."

Newt couldn't stop staring at him. "You did this?" he repeated.

"Um, yeah, I just thought—"

"I bloody love you." Newt flung his arms around Minho's waist and pressed himself up against him. Staggering, Minho chuckled, returning the embrace. "I mean it," Newt announced into Minho's chest. "I love you, and I can't remember the last time someone did this for me, and it's so amazing, and shuck, I love you so shucking much." He rubbed his cheek against Minho's chest, breathing in the smell of Minho's cologne from his sweater.

Minho gave a pleased hum at Newt's words, stroking his back lovingly. "That's what a husband's for, right?" he asked.

Newt whimpered then and hugged Minho tighter. "I'm so freaking glad you're my husband," he stated, and Minho dropped a kiss to his head.

"I'm glad I'm yours too," Minho murmured. Then he gently pushed Newt back by the shoulders. "Now, relax, sweetheart. I'll come back later to make sure you didn't drown."

Newt cast a knowing look up at Minho, ashen-blue eyes playful. "Or to try and see me through all those bubbles...?"

"Maybe," Minho admitted, and rubbed their noses together once. His breaths turned shaky as Newt leaned up and pecked his lips. "I gotta go and let you enjoy this. Or I might try to take those pants off for you."

Newt brightened at that, but Minho stepped back, giving him space. After a last, tossed-back smile, Minho slipped out the door. He pulled it closed behind him, leaving Newt alone in the candlelit room. Linking his hands behind his back, Newt surveyed the room again. A wide grin worked itself onto his face. How incredibly lucky he was, to have Minho all to himself. And to have that awesome bathtub beckoning to him from across the room. He took the hem of his tank top and tugged it off easily, starting a pile beside the sink. His sweatpants soon followed. Then, glancing back at the door, he fiddled with the waistband of his boxers. Half of him really hoped Minho would walk back in right now. But finally, he sighed and slipped the clothing off on his own. Wearing nothing but his wedding ring and an M tattooed on his chest, he dipped a foot in the water.

"Bloody hell," he hissed, because it was hot. But after a moment, it started to feel good. Really good. He relaxed as he stepped into it and slowly stretched out across the tub. The bubbles tickled his skin and made him sneeze when one nudged his nose. Sinking under them, up to his chin, he sighed blissfully. The heat cradled him from all angles, melting the aches from his body. He nearly whimpered in relief when his bad leg went below the surface.

"Shuck," he exhaled, closing his eyes. He could just lay here forever. The flames dancing from the candles threw flickering light across the ceiling. In the dim, orangey light, Newt drowsily let the water take his weight. He was going to have to remember to thank Minho for this later. It was utter Heaven.

As if on cue, a quiet knock sounded on the door. "You all right in there?" Minho's voice asked.

Opening his eyes, Newt glanced over at the door. "Yeah," he answered. Then he added, "you can come in."

"Okay." With a whisper of sound, Minho pushed open the door and snuck inside. He was careful in the way he closed it again. "Don't wanna wake up Belle," he explained, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. Then he smiled fondly at Newt. "You like it?"

"I love it," Newt answered with feeling. "It's awesome."

"I knew it."

"Yeah, well. You know me pretty well."

"I do, don't I?"

"Don't get cocky." Newt shot him a warning glare.

Minho just shrugged with a shoulder flippantly. Then he shuffled his feet, turning sheepish. "Well, um," he stammered. "I'll leave you alone now."

Newt frowned in disappointment as Minho turned back toward the door again. The fluidity of his movements was intoxicating to watch, especially in those tight jeans. A wave of longing washed over Newt. "Wait, er, Minho," he called, sitting up a bit.

Minho paused and looked back questioningly. Oh God, he was so sweet.

"You can...um." Newt's ears burned and he had to glance down, then up again shyly. "You can...get in with me...if you want."

To his sheer delight, Minho blushed. "Why?" he asked, a hint of mischief entering his voice. "You want me to?"

Newt recognized that look. The question swept him up in fantasies of Newt and his husband in the bathtub together, water dripping down the sides, Minho moaning his name as he gripped the edge of the tub... Newt squished those thoughts before they drove him mad. "Yeah," he answered coyly. "I mean, I do."

"Thought you wanted to relax," Minho teased, facing Newt more than the door now.

"Who says we can't relax together?"

"Angel, you're making me crazy, talking like that." Minho smirked that lazy smirk he got when he pretended to talk all sexy with Newt.

There was that pet name Newt adored. His hands itched to touch Minho. "Just get in here," he mumbled and slipped into the water up to his nose.

Chuckling at the blonde's shyness, Minho grabbed the hem of his sweater. Newt was instantly alert again, watching as discreetly as possible as Minho stripped his sweater off. Flawless skin rippled over sleek muscle in his arms and chest, his N tattoo plainly visible. And Christ, don't get Newt started on Minho's six-pack. Minho was grinning as he undid his belt buckle. He knew Newt's eyes were on him and he liked it. Newt was too caught up in watching Minho strip to care. He swallowed as the button of Minho's jeans came undone and those lovely skinny jeans slipped down. He actually flushed and looked away when Minho's briefs followed. Bare feet padded on the tile, and Newt scooted forward to make room behind him in the tub.

"Do you want to...Oh." Newt's blush deepened as Minho climbed in behind him and lifted him up by the hips. A sharp sigh escaped as he was settled back onto Minho's lap, back against Minho's toned chest. The touch of their bare skin under the soap bubbles made him swoon. "Ohh..." he repeated, slower and drunkenly. He leaned back against Minho, head resting in the crook of Minho's collarbone.

"Damn, you were right," Minho said appreciatively. "This is amazing."

"Told you," Newt mumbled.

"Mmmm," Minho hummed in bliss, rolling his shoulders to relax them and sinking a bit deeper beneath the bubbles. Newt could imagine his lashes drooping as he held Newt in the hot bath.

They laid like that for a while. Neither of them spoke much. There was a very drunk, slow feeling in the air. Newt reveled in Minho's added body heat on him and tangled their legs, tracing Minho toes with his own. Minho was dipping his hand in the water and using his fingers to trickle droplets on Newt's shoulder. He did it again and again, a lazy routine in the warm room. Newt caught his hand once, before it could enter the water again. Minho stirred slightly. "What?"

Lifting Minho's hand, Newt watched their fingers overlap. Their wedding rings shone side by side. He rubbed his thumb over Minho's. "We're married," he murmured simply.

"I know," Minho joked. "You asked and I said yes. I'm glad you remember all that though." Newt was silent. Minho shifted, trying to see Newt's face. "Newt? ...Isaac?"

Newt sighed and let their hands fall back into the water together. "You're the only person who still calls me that sometimes," he commented.

"Feeling sentimental?"

"Do you remember Siren's Paradise?" Newt asked suddenly, barely above a whisper.

Minho didn't answer for a long moment. A long breath eased out of him. "Yes," he confessed. He wrapped his arms around Newt's middle and buried his face in Newt's neck. "Yes."

"Do you...remember what happened there?" Newt could feel Minho's hair on his ear, not yet wet. "Our first time?"

A low noise came from Minho's throat. "I still dream about it."

Newt shuddered. Bringing a hand up, he threaded his damp fingers into Minho's spiked hair. "I want to know what's in your dreams," he said softly.

"You." Minho nuzzled Newt's neck. "It's always you, and the way you looked that night..." He trailed off with a tiny whimper and kissed the tip of Newt's ear.

Newt was blown away by the amount of love he felt in Minho's words, the utter helpless love. "You really are this in love with me, aren't you?" he asked, fascinated. "You really couldn't live without me."

Minho kissed Newt's ear again, then took his earlobe in his teeth and sucked lightly. Newt sighed roughly. "I wouldn't survive a day," he whispered in Newt's ear, "if you didn't love me back the way you do." He nosed Newt's hair, inhaled his scent. "Why'd you bring up our honeymoon now?" he asked curiously.

Newt's eyelids drifted lower and he snuck a hand down to Minho's hip. "I want you to make love to me the way you did then," he breathed.

Minho's body tensed. "Newt, I...I didn't plan on—" His words were swallowed when Newt shifted in his lap to grind suggestively back against him. Newt felt Minho's hips lift up and a whimper tore from husband.

"Please, Minho." Newt reached up to cup the back of Minho's neck. Turning his head and tipping up his chin, he brought their mouths together.

The angle was a bit off but it didn't matter. Minho grabbed for Newt's hips and kissed him like he'd never kissed before. Lips and teeth tangled as they desperately searched for more of each other. Newt could taste Minho's tongue, licking the soft gasps out of Newt's mouth. He rocked their bodies together again and Minho bit down on his lower lip. "Oh god, Newt," Minho choked out, before Newt claimed his mouth again. He ran his tongue over Minho's lips, then past them, and Minho started panting. One hand came up and grasped Newt's hair. Newt whined into Minho's lips as Minho carded the golden hair back off Newt's forehead, messing it up.

"Min," Newt exhaled, as Minho broke the kiss abruptly. Then Newt was tilting his head off to the side as Minho kissed his neck. Minho licked the water from Newt's skin, then scraped his teeth up Newt's throat. The hand on Minho's hip tightened. Newt closed his eyes as Minho mouthed along his neck, finding all the right places and nipping them teasingly. At one point, he sank his teeth in harder and Newt was embarrassed by how readily he mewled in pleasure. Then Minho was grinding up against him and Newt couldn't stop making obscene noises.

"My Newt," Minho whispered huskily, "my angel." He rolled his hips up and Newt hissed, grasping the edge of the tub. Water bounced up around them.

"Min...Ah...God..." Newt couldn't take anymore. Moving up on Minho's lap, he grabbed for both sides of the tub. Breathing hard, he slowly sank himself down onto Minho, gasping at the feel of it. Minho seized his hips, choking on a sound. Newt waited until he felt like he could move.

"A—are you...Can you—? Ohhh God," Minho mewled as Newt pushed their bodies together, rocking against him. There was a muffled smack as Minho's palm landed on the wall for support. The water whispered around them as they moved, harsh breaths and wet skin filling the air. Newt trembled as Minho took over, grinding his hips up into Newt's with a languid, easy rhythm. He felt Minho sit up just enough for Newt to toss his head back onto Minho's shoulder. Minho's fingers of one hand were splayed across Newt's stomach, pulling him onto Minho with every movement of their bodies. Minho drove into him particularly hard and Newt arched his back, huffing out a breath by Minho's ear.

"Please, don't stop," he begged, as Minho moved slightly faster, sliding his hand up Newt's chest.

Minho kissed at Newt's shoulder. "I won't," he murmured shakily. "I—I can't."

Their movements were desperate now, delicious, frantic. Newt made little breathy noises every time Minho slid into him, searching for anything to keep him sane. One hand clung to the edge of the tub and the other grabbed for Minho's hip and thigh. The hot water slipped up the walls of the tub as Minho kept rocking himself into Newt. Growling, he brought his lips to Newt's ear and whispered soft, soft things to him that made Newt gasp for air. Then Minho slid his hand between Newt's legs. He did something that made Newt's eyes roll back, body jerking against Minho's. "Min," Newt managed and snatched the back of Minho's head with a hand, crushing their lips together. They kissed wildly, gasping, biting each other's lips. Newt tangled his fingers in Minho's hair, soaking it so that strands flopped messily into his eyes.

"I love you," Minho moaned into Newt's mouth, through the press of their bodies together. Newt ground onto him in reply and Minho gave a tiny sound of pleasure, biting his lip. "I love you, Isaac Newton, I, God, I love you so much."

Newt dropped his head back, a breathed, "I love you, too, Minho Newton," leaving his lips. And then his climax was rippling up inside of him, hitting him like a lightning bolt, and he couldn't breathe. His hand fell onto Minho's, fingers entwining as Minho arched up under him. Newt couldn't think, not with Minho groaning in his ear, telling him he'd reached it too. Newt's body tensed up and at the last second, Minho pressed a hand over Newt's mouth. Ecstasy racked Newt's body and he cried out into Minho's hand, grasping Minho's side.

For a moment, they were still, the tremors ebbing away. The water settled around them again. Then Newt carefully removed Minho's hand from his mouth and lifted himself off of Minho. A low whimper came from him at the loss and his arms shivered to hold him up. He felt Minho wrap his arms around his waist and kiss the nape of his neck. "Lay back, darling," Minho whispered. "I have you."

Carefully, Newt stretched out on top of Minho again, though this time not in the way they'd been joined before. Minho's strong arms folded him up against a warm chest and Newt sighed. Minho kissed the side of his head affectionately. "Thanks for the bath," Newt ventured quietly.

Minho's lips curved up against his hair. "I wasn't exactly planning on joining you," he pointed out. Ruefully, he touched a flop of black hair. "And now my hair's all messed up."

"Sorry." Newt turned his head to brush his lips to Minho's jaw.

"Nah. I like it when you mess it up." Minho leaned his head against Newt's. "Means you like it."

Newt nuzzled at Minho's neck in return. Then he drew back to gaze at him. Minho's hair was truly a mess, rumpled and damp, no longer spiked. His dark eyes were all melty and his lips flushed from rough kisses. He looked at Newt in that just-made-love way that could make Newt's body weak. "Do I tell you you're gorgeous?" Newt asked.

Minho's gaze slid away coyly. "Yes."

"Good. Just making sure." Newt cuddled up against his husband and closed his eyes. He started smiling.

"What're you smiling about?"

"We're married."