Cuteness! These chapters have been turning short and sweet lately. I'm sorry about the length, but this story's starting to wind down toward the end, haha. The last chapter will be really cute and at least a little longer, I swear. For now, read on :)-

-DAY 25: Go for a run, take a hike, do yoga, or work out with each other-

NEVER AGAIN.

-X-X-X-

"Oh my God, I'm dead."

Those were the first words Newt said when he made it back into the living room and threw himself face-first onto the couch. He stayed there, sprawled out and with an arm dangling over the side. Another exhausted groan left him.

Minho gave a breathless laugh when he caught sight of Newt's tired limbs. "Oh, c'mon, it wasn't that bad," he said, standing at the arm of the couch with hands on his hips. There was a satisfying ache in his muscles when he lifted his arms for a lazy stretch.

"It was HORRIBLE," Newt moaned, muffled by the couch cushions. "I think part of me died forever."

"You're more of a wimp than I thought you were."

"Am not."

"Mmhm," Minho hummed noncommittally. Arms still above his head he slanted a glance down at Newt. A smile spread over his lips at the blonde looking all cute in blue gym shorts and a black Underarmour T-shirt. Minho couldn't say he didn't love how that shirt clung to every lean muscle in Newt's form.

Newt grunted a complaint when Minho plunked down onto the couch next to him. Minho stuck his hand on top of Newt's head and tousled his hair. "At least you didn't faint," he pointed out. "I don't think I could've carried you the whole way back."

"How do you do that every day?" Newt demanded, not bothering to lift up his head. His arm waved feebly to bat Minho's hand away.

"Well, I don't do that EVERY day. I mean, I never have to carry Belle for half the run."

As if on cue, Annabelle bounced into the room, ponytail flying and her little sneakers thumping on the floor. Her eyes were sparkling when she beamed over at her dad. "That was awesome!" she cheered. "Let's go again!"

Newt made a pained sound and Minho grimaced. "I don't think we'll go again right now, sweetheart," he replied. "Daddy's worn out."

"Tomorrow then!" Belle declared. Spinning on a heel, she scampered into the kitchen to find her water bottle. "I could run FOREVER!"

Minho decided not to tell her that her running skills were partly because he had carried her on his shoulders for a good three-quarters of the actual run. THAT had been hard. Sighing, he switched from messing up Newt's hair to smoothing his fingers through it. He paused to massage the nape of Newt's neck and the blonde whimpered in gratitude. "You did good," Minho remarked. "I better watch out or soon you'll be stronger than me."

"That'll be the day," Newt muttered in disbelief. Gathering his arms under him, he propped himself up on his stomach. Tired blue eyes admired the lines beneath Minho's tank top, which showed off his biceps fantastically. Newt leaned his cheek against Minho's arm and closed his eyes. "I'd have to give up being lazy to get as strong as you and I don't think I can do that," he joked.

"True," Minho agreed, mischief in his voice. "You did make it back last today, after all."

"You were only a foot ahead of me!" Newt protested. Minho snickered and Newt shoved him in the shoulder. "I have a LIMP!"

"Oh, typical, blame the limp," Minho laughed. Then his laughter doubled when Newt pounced on him. The blonde pushed him down onto the couch by laying on top of him, folded arms resting on his chest. Minho let himself be shoved back onto the couch cushions and grinned up at Newt. Newt growled at his husband's amusement. "Take it back."

"Never."

"Minho."

"What're you gonna do, tickle me to death?" Minho leaned up to place a kiss on Newt's nose.

Newt grimaced, then sighed. "I can't stay mad at you," he mumbled, resting his cheek on Minho's chest.

"You're too amazingly in love with me."

"I'm too tired."