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Minho had gone with Newt to his parents’ home for dinner only a few times since they started dating, and each time he went, he learned something new about Newt.
The first time they went, he learned that he was a spitting image of his mother and got his quick wit and razor sharp tongue from his father. Minho was grateful to them both for passing on their traits.
The second visit was the first time he’d met Newt’s little sister, Hannah, and learned just how good Newt was with children. She happily told him she was 7 and three quarters and loved kitties, sailor moon, and “Newtie” - but only sometimes. Minho was more than content to sit and watch his boyfriend interact with his sister, playing games or telling jokes to elicit joyful giggles from the little girl. He tried not to think about having his own kids with the blonde boy. (It didn’t work.)
The third time they went, Minho had been left alone with Mrs. Isaacs’ (who’d told him to simply call her Mary) while Newt went to pick his father up from the airport. Any nerves he had completely melted when the blonde woman entered the room with her hands behind her back and her dark eyes sparkling with mischief in a way that felt so familiar to Minho. He broke out into a grin when she revealed an old scrapbook with “Newton” written across the cover.
They’d spent a few minutes flipping through the pictures, Mary pointing out and explaining certain ones and Hannah joining to sit on Minho’s lap and giggle at the pictures of her big brother. Minho’s grin never faltered, until he came across one of Newt, the cursive writing below indicating he was 11 years old.
Little Newt grinned happily and held up a little model airplane. He wore thickly framed glasses that appeared to be too small given that they were sliding down the young boy’s face. He looked absolutely adorable and the Asian boy found himself wanting to see what he’d look like in glasses now that he was nearly 21.
“He never told me he wore glasses.” Minho mumbled as he stared at the photo.
Mary let out a soft chuckle and rubbed Minho’s back. “I’m not surprised; those bloody contacts of his have been glued to his eyes since he turned 16!”
Newt and his father returned shortly after and Minho didn’t dare speak a word of the photo album. He spent the night developing a plan to put into course as soon as they got to Newt’s apartment.
It was about 11 PM by the time they sleepily stumbled into the blonde’s apartment. Minho had his own just a few blocks away, but he much preferred being in the company of his boyfriend when he had the chance.
Newt slid off his jacket, and placed it on the rack with a sigh.
“Sorry I left you alone with mum,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around the broader boy.
He placed his hands on Newt’s hips and shrugged. “Nah, it’s cool. I had fun.”
“What’d you two get up to, anyways?” Newt asked as he rested his head on Minho’s shoulder. He nuzzled into his neck, pulling a breathy laugh from the boy.
“Nothing, just talked.” Minho lied, pulling the boy closer. “She’s a sweetheart, y’know. Called me ‘love’ and all that.”
Newt chuckled against his skin, causing sparks to run up Minho’s spine.
“Did ya talk about me?” he asked, pulling away from their close embrace.
Minho smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Min…” Newt grumbled, pulling away further to cross his arms. “Don’t be a prick.”
“I think I’m gonna shower,” Minho announced, making his way to the bathroom. “I’m feelin’ kinda nasty from all that shit we talked about you.”
Newt just let out a frustrated sigh and stomped into the kitchen. “I hope you buggin’ drown.”
A chest erupted from Minho’s chest as he shut the door, calling out a cheeky “Love you, too!” before making his way to the shower.
After turning on the water, connecting his phone to the dock to fill the room with music, and double checking that he locked the door, it was time to get to work.
Operation: Steal Newt’s Contacts was in full force.
He shuffled through the items sprawled across the counter top and wasn’t surprised when he was unsuccessful. If he didn’t like wearing glasses and needed contacts, he wouldn’t leave them out so carelessly to allow Minho to find them. He continued on his search, rummaging through each of the drawers twice to make sure he didn’t overlook anything.
“Where the hell are you hiding them?” Minho mumbled, digging through the cabinets beside the mirror.
The mirror!
Minho let out a mischievous laugh as he recalled the way the mirror opened, doubling as a midden cabinet. It popped open with a soft tug and Minho’s face lit up at the sight of the contents.
A single box of contacts, a bottle of eyedrops, and a dust-covered case that could only hold one thing - Newt’s glasses. Minho grabbed the box of contacts with a grin and dumped them out onto the counter. After placing the box back, he looked to the dusty case next to them. He reached a hand out but hesitated before making contact; he’d reward himself with the surprise tomorrow. He shrugged out of his hoodie and put all the contacts in it’s large pocket. Minho grinned as he discarded the rest of his clothes and slipped under the warm water of the shower. Victory was going to be sweet.
The rest of the night had been uneventful. Minho hid the sweater with the contacts in his bag, knowing Newt wouldn’t bother to rummage through it. The two watched some netflix before deciding to crawl into bed and get some sleep. Minho smiled at Newt’s sleepy goodnight kisses, and whispered a quiet “love you” as the blonde rested his head on the olive skinned boy’s bare chest. He fell asleep to the sound of the smaller boy’s even breaths with excitement for the next day bubbling in his chest.
Rays of light flooded into the room, landing across Minho’s sleepy face. He slowly blinked his eyes open and immediately noticed the lack of weight on his chest. He didn’t need to look beside him to know Newt wasn’t there, either. He never slept beside him without having some sort of contact. Feeling a little worried, Minho swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood. After rubbing his tired eyes, he stumbled out into the apartment to locate Newt.
“You’ve gotta be takin’ the piss…”
Minho’s head slowly turned to the shut door of the bathroom. Socked feet shuffled across the carpeted floor and he gently rapped on the door.
“Newt? You okay?” his voice was husky from having just woke up, but his tired expression had changed into one of an excited child.
“Yeah, yeah, bloody fantastic.” the boy groaned as he swung the door open.
His hair was a fluffy, tangled mess, and the old shirt of Minho’s he wore was sliding down his shoulder in a way that exposed the light freckles there. He looked adorable, obviously, but no glasses.
“Alright, then.” Minho shrugged, feeling a little disappointed as he plopped down on the couch to watch TV.
Newt shuffled his way into the kitchen and his tense shoulders were proof enough of his irritation about the situation. “Coffee?” he asked. Minho mumbled in affirmation, already lost on the program on the television.
Newt made his way over to the living room a few minutes later and Minho mumbled out a quick thanks as he was handed a mug of coffee. He lifted the mug towards the boy once he’d finally sat down.
“Cheers,” Minho mumbled, and both boy’s brought the mugs to their lips.
“Bloody-!”
“Holy shit, Newt!”
Both boys surge forward, struggling to get the disgusting drink down without it ending up all over the apartment.
“Did you put salt instead of sugar?” Minho asked, wiping his mouth with the bag of his hand.
“No! I mean, I don’t think so!” Newt exclaimed, putting his cup down and going to the kitchen to grab what he had thought was sugar. He handed it to Minho, who looked at it for only a moment before handing it back with a look of discuss.
“You did. You put salt instead of sugar.”
Newt shook his head. “I didn’t! You switched the contents of the containers!”
“Newt,” Minho said, standing up to take the jar again. He twisted it around so Newt could see the label.
The blonde squinted, finally making out SALT written across it. A heavy sigh passed his lips. Minho placed his hand on his shoulder in mock-comfort. Really, he had other motives.
“I think we need to get your eyes checked, babe.” he whispered.
Newt groaned and ripped the salt from the boy’s hand and stormed back into the kitchen. “Don’t need no lovin’ doctor telling me- ow, shit!”
He folded over in pain, biting harshly at the inside of his cheek and hopping around on one leg. “Stubbed my damn, shit, my toe, motherf-”
“What was that about not needing a doctor?” Minho interrupted, helping Newt hop his way over to the couch.
“Slim it and get my glasses, you cheesy bastard.” Newt grumbled through clenched teeth.
“Glasses?” Minho asked in feigned shock.
Newt groaned. “Do you need your hearing checked? Yes, my glasses. In the mirror.”
Minho didn’t dare smile until he was walking towards the bathroom and away from Newt. “You never told me you wear glasses.”
“I don’t.” he called out in response. “I looked like a piece of klunk in ‘em, so I wear contacts. Can’t even remember the last time I wore the damn things.”
Minho appeared from the bathroom a moment later, holding the glasses case like it was the most precious thing in the world. He sat back down beside Newt and pulled his legs up to tuck them underneath him. His eyes looked like crescent moons as he smiled, and Newt just scoffed.
“What are you so happy about?” he asked, reaching for the case.
Minho pulled it closer to him in response. “Can I put them on?”
The blonde’s brows knitted together as he stayed silent for a moment. Minho opened his mouth to say more when he didn’t speak, but Newt was quick to shut him up.
“Alright, alright, put them on.”
Newt couldn’t remember the last time he saw Minho’s face light up so bright. He could do nothing but shake his head, all feelings of frustration and annoyance towards his boyfriend replaced with love.
Tan fingers opened the box slowly and carefully pulled out the frames.
“They aren’t made of glass, Min. They’re from Wal-Mart.” Newt told him with a laugh, his voice holding no disdain as it had before.
Minho nodded, taking one last glance at his bare-faced boyfriend before sliding the glasses on his face.
Newt immediately felt self conscious under Minho’s gaze. He attempted to cast his eyes downward, but was stopped by a finger under his chin.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Minho asked, his voice soft and cautious.
“I look like an idiot, that’s what’s wrong.” he mumbled.
Minho’s eyes widened for a moment before leaning in to pepper Newt’s face in kisses.
“H-Hey! Minho!”
“If you think you look like an idiot, you are an idiot.” Minho whispered against his skin.
Newt squirmed at the contact despite the smile on his face. “Min, quit it.”
Just when he thought Minho was going to obey, the boy lunged back in for a hard kiss on the mouth before pulling away.
“You are the cutest shuck faced shuck there ever was.” he said, his hands squishing Newt’s cheeks.
Newt smiled the best he could with the way his face was contorted by the other’s hands. He trusted Minho enough to know he wouldn’t lie about something like this, that he’d tell him if he looked stupid.
So he leaned forward to return the silly kiss, hoping Minho would understand that his muffled “You’re an ass” really meant “Thank you, I love you.”
And he did, because he could tell that whatever sarcastic quip Minho fired back against his lips really meant “I love you, too.”