-Of Teachers & Flirtations-

-Part One of another Minewt story is here! I really do have no life, people. I can't believe that I'm already posting another story. Annywayyy, this was a little thing that came to mind one day, and I finally decided to write it. I hope you all like it and honestly, I don't know if there'll be a rating-change. (cuz I mean, I don't really want one, but when have Minho and Newt ever kept their hands off each other? XD)

If you like it, leave a review! Make my day brighter! :D

Read on, people!-

"You're weird."

Belle blinked and turned to look at the brown-haired boy standing next to her. They were standing out in the warm, spring air, on the sidewalk outside Glade Elementary School. The school buses always showed up late every day to take the students back home, so they were left waiting outside the red-brick school. Not that she really minded. It was nice outside, all cheery and full of sunshine. And she couldn't wait to go home. Dad had promised to teach her a new song on guitar today. It was a great day.

That is, except this part.

"I'm not weird," she replied matter-of-factly. She wasn't really mad yet, just stating the truth. She didn't think she was weird. And she didn't know why Billy, the boy next to her, thought she was.

Billy scoffed. "Uh, yeah you are," he argued. "You're the weirdest girl in school; everyone says so." Billy was older than Belle, a fifth grader, so she supposed he kinda knew "everyone."

"No, they don't," she said anyway. "Katie says she thinks I'm cool."

He wrinkled his nose. "Katie?"

"Yeah, Katie." She flipped flame-red hair over her shoulder and pointed at a girl with short hair and blue eyes a few yards away. "She's my best friend."

Billy followed her gaze, but just snorted. "Katie doesn't know nothin.' You ARE weird, I know it."

Belle was beginning to feel a little hurt now, and annoyed too, but she always tried to be nice to people. So she simply replied, "no, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are," he persisted obnoxiously.

"No, I'm not."

"YEAH, you ARE."

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you ARRRRE."

"No, I'm not."

"YEEAAAH, you ARRRE." Billy thrusted his face close to hers that time; his breath smelled like candy he'd stolen from the teacher's desk and his eyes were sickly green. Belle took a step back, appalled. His mouth twisted up into a sneer. "Ya wanna know HOW I know you're weird?"

She didn't say anything. So he asked again. "Huh, Annie-belle? Ya wanna know HOW?"

Belle bristled. She HATED that nickname. Hated it. Several kids had started jeering that name at her because they knew she'd been an orphan, like Annie from the musical. "Don't call me that, Billy," she muttered, adjusting the blue straps of her backpack.

"I'll TELL ya how, Annie-belle," he went on, as though she'd never spoken. "I know cuz you're a freak."

She looked at him with wide, hurt eyes, then glared. "I am NOT a freak."

"Yeah, you are. You come from that freak-show family."

"My family are not freaks," Belle protested hotly.

"Oh, please. Have you seen them lately?" Billy was grinning outright now, malicious and enjoying himself. "My mom came to Open-House this year, and she saw them too. She says they're against religion."

"They are not!" Belle argued. Her hand were balled up into fists at her sides. She could feel the gazes of curious students burning into her now, as others noticed what was happening. But she didn't care. "My family's awesome! You're just jealous!"

"Jealous of what?" he shot back. "Some orphan who got two dads? That's just wrong."

"It is not!" she yelled.

"Yeah, it is!"

"No, it's not!"

"Yeah, it is!"

"NO, it's not!"

"Yeah...it...IS!" At the word "is," Billy planted his hands on Belle's shoulders and shoved. Gasping, she stumbled back, tripping over her own feet. She bounced onto the sidewalk with a painful thud, falling onto her back. Cries of shock rose from the surrounding kids, but they all stayed where they were. They wanted to watch what was going to happen next.

Belle got her hands under her and propped herself halfway-up on her elbows. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but she refused to cry in front of Billy. Swallowing, she glanced up through strands of hair as he stood over her in triumph. "Man, you don't even know how freakish you really are," he crowed.

Belle sniffled. "I'm not freakish," she mumbled pathetically.

"When's the last time you saw what a normal family looked like?" he asked nastily. "Cuz it sure ain't the one you got!"

"Stop it," she muttered, voice thick.

"My brother said they make him wanna puke when he sees them. He knows all the twisted, icky things they do cuz he's in high school."

"Stop it..."

"He said they ARE against religion, cuz God would never want two guys to get together, or even live together, like your dads."

"Stop it." Belle clambered to a standing position again, rubbing her scraped elbows. She was half-afraid he'd push her down again.

"AND he said that he won't even touch em, they're so disgusting!"

"STOP IT!" Belle shouted, tears beginning to stream down her face. Billy's form blurred in front of her. "Stop talking about them like that!" She was aware of a buzz going through the other kids. A distant hum began, signaling the arrival of the school buses.

Billy glowered at her as the first bus parked in front of them with a screech. "Just face it, Annie-belle," he spat. "You're never gonna be normal." Then he turned away from her and walked toward the school bus. The doors opened with a hiss as he approached. Other kids surged forward to follow, their casual chatter opening up again after the fight. It was like it'd never happened only moments ago.

Belle stared after Billy as he left. She didn't follow the other kids. She'd wait and get on last, sit next to Katie maybe. SHE didn't think Belle's family were disgusting. The last kid was climbing up the steps, so Belle made her way slowly to get on next. As she did, she glanced back over her shoulder at the school. A teacher was watching from the doorway.

-o-o-o-

Belle's school bus always arrived home at the same time every day. So normally, either Newt or Minho would go outside a few minutes before to meet her at the road. She'd jump down the steps with her fiery hair flying, a huge smile on her face. If Newt was the one meeting her, she'd run up and hug him around the middle; she'd immediately launch into a full story of how her day had gone. If Minho was the one meeting her, she'd race from the bus and he'd kneel down to scoop her up onto his shoulders. Then they'd walk back to the house together and laugh about some weird thing the teacher did that day.

The bus would be here in about five minutes. Someone had to go watch for Belle.

Unfortunately, Newt and Minho both couldn't do it because they were too busy getting tangled up in each other.

"Minho," Newt laughed breathlessly, as Minho ghosted kisses down his neck. "Belle's gonna be home soon."

"We have some time," Minho argued. He was lying on his back on the living room couch, with Newt on top of him. He wrapped his arms around Newt's waist, trapping him against him.

Newt rolled his eyes at his husband's stubbornness. "Min, someone has to get her," he pointed out. "And we don't have that much time."

"Five more minutes." Minho glided his fingers down Newt's back, then shoved his hands under the pale blue fabric of his T-shirt. His palms seared into the bare skin of Newt's back and he sighed sharply.

"We don't have five more minutes," Newt told him flatly.

"Aw, come on, angel," Minho pouted. "I just wanna hold you." He inched his hands a little higher and found the place beneath Newt's shoulder blades, kneading the skin. Newt gave a tiny whimper of bliss and let Minho massage his back for a few moments. Minho smirked victoriously. He loved when Newt made those adorable, yet hot little sounds with Minho, that let him know how crazy he was making him right now.

Newt's eyes were a foggy, dark blue, full of the want he was fighting. "Minho, we can't..." he trailed off as Minho moved his hands to his lower back and continued to rub circles into his skin. Newt's eyes fell shut and he tucked his head beneath Minho's chin. His body melted into Minho's.

"Can't do what?" Minho asked playfully.

Newt hummed softly. "Can't...um..."

"Hmm?"

"...I don't remember."

Minho grinned and hooked a leg over Newt's to keep him flush against him. "Well, I know what you CAN do, sweetheart," he murmured mischievously. He kissed Newt's jaw softly, then his ear, nibbling at his earlobe. He heard Newt gasp.

"We are not having sex on this couch five minutes before Belle gets home," Newt announced, snapping at least halfway out of his trance. He lifted his head from Minho's chest and sent his husband a glower. Planting his hands on Minho's shoulders, he went to push himself up. With a startled yelp, he found himself tugged back down by Minho's strong arms around his waist and Minho's leg around his thigh. "Minho," he scolded.

Minho blinked innocently. "What's the matter, baby? I thought you wanted to stay with me." He lifted his head to nip at Newt's bottom lip. Newt growled, low and sexy, and pulled back more. "Don't be like that," Minho purred, enjoying every second of teasing Newt. "We have three more minutes to do whatever we want. You can start by taking those jeans off for me." As he spoke, he slipped his hands even lower, pressing them over Newt's back pockets.

Newt gasped and grabbed at Minho's hands to push them back to a politer place again. "I don't want to stay with you, we have only TWO minutes, and no, I am not taking my pants off for you," he rattled off. "So behave yourself."

"You're no fun," Minho complained in reply.

Newt arched an eyebrow at that. Then, faster than Minho could blink, he pressed their mouths together. Minho was surprised at first, but as soon as Newt's hands came up to his chest, he closed his eyes. Newt was kissing him roughly, parting Minho's lips and running his tongue along his teeth. He sucked on Minho's bottom lip and Minho gave a low moan of need. As soon as he heard it though, Newt took his chance; he pulled back and twisted out of Minho's arms. Standing up, he tugged at his rumpled clothes. "Sorry, Min," he said, as his husband gave him a disappointed expression, still lying on the couch. "But someone's gotta go get her."

"Nooo..." Minho groaned, raking fingers through his tousled, black hair. "Come back." He reached out to Newt plaintively and Newt almost sank back into his arms. The blonde bit his lower lip. Because Minho looked so gorgeous lying there, navy tee revealing a tantalizing four inches of his abs, jeans clinging much too low on his hips. And god, the way his shirt outlined his broad shoulders and chest made Newt ache to touch him. But he knew Belle would be home any second. Someone had to be the sensible one, and since Minho never was, it had to be Newt.

"I can't, love," Newt replied regretfully, almost whining. "I want to, but I can't."

"Angel..."

"Don't make me want you more, Min."

"Ughhhhh, finnne." Minho sighed and dropped his arm to let it dangle over the side of the couch. He scowled up at the ceiling as though it was to blame for this. "It's been three days since we had sex," he muttered under his breath, and Newt laughed.

"You'll survive," Newt assured him, a smile pulling up one corner of his mouth. He received only an unconvinced grunt in reply, so he made his way out of the living room toward the front hall. As he walked be smoothed his mussed, golden hair, a tint of pink in his cheeks when he remembered Minho's hands threading in it. He'd only meant to give Minho a single kiss when he found him on the couch. He didn't mean for them to end up making out wildly, Newt's shirt shoved up to his chest and his hands all over Minho. It only showed that Newt had no control around his husband, and that Minho felt the same about him.

They were screwed if they ever had to go somewhere important, because they were most likely going to be late.

Newt had reached the door now and he swung it open. Just in time too. The bright yellow school bus came roaring up to the driveway, brakes squeaking. It pulled to a clumsy halt by the mailbox. Newt took a few steps outside and paused to wait as the doors shifted open. A smile broke out on his face as a little redheaded girl came bounding down the steps and up the path to the porch. Belle's shoes clattered on the white-painted, wooden steps as she ran up them. The bus started off down the road behind her.

"Hey, Belle, how was—?" Newt didn't get to finish his sentence because next thing he knew, Belle had tackled him around the waist and was hugging him hard. She buried her face in his stomach, trembling. He blinked and cautiously pulled her back so he could kneel in front of her. "Honey, what's wrong?" he asked, smoothing the hair back from her face.

Belle's emerald eyes glistened. "A b—boy named Billy made fun of me today," she stammered, as though she was about to cry.

Newt immediately felt that surge of fatherly protectiveness which made him want to kick this boy's ass. "He made fun of you?" he echoed. "What'd he say?"

"He called you and Dad disgusting and other awful things," she told him, sniffing.

Newt's eyebrows rose. This kid had been insulting...him and Minho? He was about to ask her something else, but she looked so close to tears, that he wilted. "Oh, sweetheart, come here," he said and she stepped forward into his embrace. Newt hugged his daughter close, her thin arms looping around his neck. She was small enough to fit against him perfectly, snuggling into the comfort of his chest. He stroked her hair until she stopped shivering with held-back tears. "You wanna go inside now?" he asked softly.

She nodded. Straightening up, Newt let go of her and led her back inside. The door shut with a click behind them, announcing their presence. Belle hurried ahead of Newt and beat him to the living room. Crossing his arms, he followed at a slower pace. He emerged from the doorway in time to see Belle scampering straight across the room to Minho, who had sat up on the couch. "Hey, there she is," Minho greeted, a grin tugging at his lips. "What did you—Oh." He looked down at her in faint surprise as she flung her arms around him the way she'd done to Newt.

"Why're people jerks?" Belle asked, voice muffled by Minho's shirt.

Minho's good mood faded. "Why're...what?" He folded his arms around her comfortingly, one hand resting at the back of her head. Over her head, he sent Newt a questioning look.

Newt took a deep breath. "Belle said some kid named Billy made fun of her at school," he explained.

"WHAT?" Minho bristled. He glanced sharply at Belle. "What did he do? What did he say? Did he—?"

"He called us disgusting," Newt interrupted, before Minho could plan to unleash his full wrath on this Billy.

"Called who disgusting?" Minho asked, raising hard, dark eyes to Newt again.

"Us, Minho. You and me."

Minho didn't say anything after that. He held Belle closer and murmured something to her that sounded like a reassurance. She said something back and he placed a kiss on her forehead. Then he gently set her down on the couch and stood up. "Kitchen?" he asked Newt, pointing to it as he walked. It wasn't a question, exactly.

Newt sighed and trailed after Minho into the kitchen. Once they were out of sight of Belle, Minho folded his arms angrily over his chest. "That little punk."

"Minho..."

"I can't believe he did that to her. You saw how sad she was."

"Yeah, I know. But we won't be any better, if we start calling some fifth grader names too."

Minho tossed his hands up in frustration. "Then what're we gonna do?" he asked. "Because, believe me, I'm doing something about this. Who's the teacher up there?"

"Ms. Baker," Newt answered automatically. He knew where this was going. "You gonna call her, or should I?"

"Oh, I'm calling her," Minho replied. He crossed the room to Newt's side, where the phone hung on the wall. Snatching it into one hand, he dialed the number they'd memorized as Belle's teacher's school number. He'd barely punched in the first number, however, when the phone actually started ringing in his grasp. "Shuck," he muttered, startled. Rolling his eyes, he answered. "Hello?" He turned to look at Newt with wide eyes. "...oh, hi, Ms. Baker."

Newt felt his own eyes grow round. She was calling HERSELF? Crap, that argument must've been bigger than Belle let on. He slung his thumbs in his pockets as he waited for Minho to go on.

"...Actually she just told us about it...yeah...Oh, I'm sure Billy's a wonderful kid," (insert severe sarcasm here) "but I still want to see some kind of punishment for this...Of course...Talk with us?" Minho glanced at Newt. "At a parent-teacher conference tonight?" At Newt's nod, Minho replied, "sure, we can come. Do you want Belle to be there? ...oh, okay...No, I understand...All right...Bye."

He hung up then turned to Newt with a huffed breath. "Okay, here's the plan: we gotta call someone to watch Belle while we're at this conference tonight because Ms. Baker just wants to speak with us. Something about it being better for the student."

Newt thought for a moment. "I can call Thomas," he suggested. "He doesn't live too far away. Or Brenda."

"Call Brenda. Belle loves her. Some inner girl-connection thing, I think." Minho cracked a smile at that, but it lasted for only a second. "I hate that someone made her feel like this."

"Yeah," Newt sighed, looking at the ground, "me too." Inside, his heart constricted for another reason too. People actually found him and Minho...disgusting?

"Hey." Minho rested his hands on Newt's shoulders, making their gazes meet again. "I hate that he made you feel like this too."

"He can't be the only one that thinks that about us," Newt replied in a flat voice.

"Yeah, he isn't. There's tons of people who think that. But I decided I didn't care a long time ago." Minho rubbed his hands up and down Newt's arms. "I know that a lot of people think it's wrong," he murmured. "But I've fallen in love with you, Newt, and I found this beautiful life with you. How can something like that ever be wrong?"

Newt never knew what to say when Minho said things like that, so he smiled fondly. "It isn't wrong," he said quietly, blushing just a bit. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Minho returned his smile and touched his lips to Newt's forehead. When he drew back, there was a new gleam in his eyes, that old flame that only Minho had. "All right," he announced. "Let's go make sure a fifth-grader's ass gets kicked."

Newt cast a glance heavenward as Minho jogged from the room to find his cell phone to take with him. "That's not the point of this meeting," he called after him.

"Uh, not yet, but it will be!"

Newt shook his head in hopelessness. Then he reached up into one of the kitchen cabinets and snagged his bottle of pills, the ones he took to manage symptoms of the Flare. Taking a glass from another shelf, he filled it halfway with water. The last thing he wanted was to start hallucinating and acting insane in front of Belle's teacher. He tossed back the pill with one swallow, wincing. Part of him wished it would have the same effect as getting drunk because if Minho had it his way, this was gonna be a lonnnng night.