-ONLY 30 SHADES OF GRAY-

-This little fanfic is based off a 30-day relationship challenge I found on Pinterest. Basically, it's thirty different, fluffy stories about Minho and Newt being married and doing married-couple things. I hope you like it, cuz this is gonna be one of my longest stories on here. Enjoy, and let me know what you liked about this first chapter! :)-

-DAY 1: Sign up for a class together or learn something new together-

They did not sign up for a class together, unfortunately. However, they did learn something new. Or, well, Newt learned something new and rather amusing about Minho.

-X-X-X-

It was Wednesday, and it was raining, and Newt was bored.

There was absolutely NOTHING TO DO. Belle was back in her room, having gotten home from school two hours ago. She'd burst through the door with damp, straggly hair and annoyance in her green eyes. Then she'd complained for thirty minutes straight about the horrid weather and how her favorite navy dress had been ruined. She was very young, but she was still a girl. Newt had spent a painstaking amount of time combing the knots out of her autumn-red hair, before pulling it into a ponytail for her. Now she'd run off to her room, to play with her dolls, she'd said.

Newt didn't mind being alone without her for now. He was tired and there wasn't anything better to do. He worked from home now, thanks to the Flare that prevented him from driving very much; he sent pictures up to Sonya at Framed and she sent him the money when one was sold. It was a nice system and now Newt could help out around the house again. But he didn't feel like doing any of that now. All he could do was wait.

Waiting for Minho to come home sucked. Especially when it was raining so hard outside, that everything was darkened by stormclouds. Newt shifted to a better position on the couch, cross-legged while he watched a movie. It was some romantic thing about French people or whatever. He was barely seeing it. He wore shorts, but the chill from outside made him put on one of Minho's oversized, charcoal-gray hoodies. Every once in a while, Newt would nuzzle into the neckline and breathe in the smell of mocha and Minho's cologne. It was addicting.

"Ugghh, this movie is stupid," he muttered to himself. Snatching the remote off the coffee table, he started clicking through the channels.

Suddenly, the sound of a lock unlatching made him jump; someone was at the front door. Newt's immediate, irrational thought was Kyle. Cursing his mind for such a thing, he rubbed at the scar on his wrist. He refused to ever touch the uglier one on his neck. Post-traumatic stress, maybe. He hated it.

It was, of course, Minho at the door, because as soon as he stepped in Coal threw herself at him. "Hey, I'm—Whoa!"

Newt chuckled as there was a thump, followed by a loud meow of greeting. That cat was crazy about Minho. "You all right?" he called.

"I'm fine!" came the sarcastic answer. "You won't believe how—Dammit, Coal, calm down!—how ugly is it outside!" There was another, oddly musical thud and Minho swore; he'd probably dropped his guitar case. "Is Coal in heat or something?!"

Newt wrinkled his nose. "Um, I don't think so," he replied uneasily. "...why?"

"I think she thinks my shoe is a cat." A louder meow came then and Minho muttered something unintelligible. Newt smiled to himself. Poor Minho. Everybody was in love with him today.

"Anyway," Minho sighed, the sound of him kicking his shoes off echoing in the hall, "was your day as boring as mine?"

"Pretty much." Newt looked up as Minho came around the couch then and instantly snorted in laughter. "Your hair is beautiful," he remarked sarcastically.

Minho's hand went straight up to his head. "Seriously?" His black hair had lost some of its spike and was damp from the rain. "Oh great, I'm hideous." Uncaringly, he raked his hands through it, thoroughly tousling it into an adorable mess.

"Yeah, I can't believe I'm married to you," Newt joked.

"Ha ha, you're hilarious."

"Thanks."

"Smug, much?" Tossing himself down onto the couch next to Newt, Minho stretched out his legs beneath the table and his arms above his head. The action showed off the arch of his body beautifully in his jeans and a cute, black-and-white striped shirt. Newt bit his lip and tried not to stare.

"So why was your day boring?" Newt asked.

"Eh, nothing really happened. A little kid tried to play guitar. That was interesting." Minho rested his hand automatically on Newt's knee, fingers stroking absently.

"Why? Was he bad at it?"

"He was five."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Newt shrugged. "At least you know you have a future customer then," he remarked mildly.

Minho hummed in agreement, dark eyes on the TV screen. It was hard to concentrate, really. He was still rubbing Newt's knee and Newt was getting a little fuzzy-minded. They sat quietly for a few minutes. The buzz of the TV was the only sound, apart from the pounding rain on the roof. But silence never lasted long with Minho around. "Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked suddenly.

Newt blinked over at him, uneasy when he saw the expression on Minho's face. "Forgetting what?"

Minho let his eyes fall bashfully, but there was nothing bashful about that wicked smirk. "You always kiss me when I come home," he pointed out lightly.

Newt rolled his eyes. "Oh, really? Who says I have to do it everyday?"

"I do," Minho replied, suggestively sneaking his hand up Newt's thigh.

Squeaking, Newt batted his hand away. "Fine, you shuck-face, c'mere." He clasped the back of Minho's neck and pulled him in. Minho scooted across the couch to get closer and they kissed for only a moment; Newt cut it off short, trying to hide how even a second of kissing Minho made him breathless. "Well?" he asked, eyebrows raised in question.

Minho ran a thumb over his lower lip, as though remembering the taste of Newt's kiss. "I think you can do better."

"Whatever," Newt scoffed, looking away. "You're not getting another." His voice faltered when Minho cupped his cheek.

"Angel," Minho murmured mischievously, "you know you can't say no to me." Drawing Newt in, he pressed their mouths together again.

Newt closed his eyes, and let this kiss last much longer. Tipping his head, Minho easily parted Newt's lips. His tongue found Newt's and prompted a tiny mewl from the blonde. Newt could feel Minho's satisfied smile curving against his mouth. "Arrogant," he growled into Minho's mouth, biting his bottom lip.

"But you like it," Minho murmured, sighing blissfully as Newt carded his fingers through Minho's hair.

He is an arrogant shank, isn't he? Newt thought. Well, two could play that game. Without breaking the kiss, he uncrossed his legs and crawled across the couch. Minho exhaled roughly as Newt climbed onto his lap and straddled his hips. Locking his hands in Minho's hair, Newt kissed him like he was going to war. He pressed their bodies together and tugged just enough at Minho's hair to make him grinned as hands clung desperately around his waist.

"Who's arrogant now?" Minho asked huskily, running his nose down along Newt's.

"It's about time you let someone else on top," Newt replied suggestively.

"Careful." Minho hooked his fingers in Newt's hoodie pocket to tug him closer. "Belle's home and she's never heard you beg for me before..."

"Ugh, you really are full of yourself." Newt splayed his fingers at the smooth skin of Minho's neck, thumbs on his jawline. Tilting Minho's head up, Newt kissed him again, deeper. His tongue traced the line of Minho's lips teasingly and Minho's fingers knotted in his hoodie. Newt's body buzzed with every touch. Being married had gotten him used to this, to having Minho whenever he wanted. He was incredibly lucky. When Minho started rubbing Newt's back through his hoodie, Newt's hand dropped away from his face and landed accidentally on Minho's ribs. That was when it happened.

Minho jerked and shoved Newt's hand away, giggling.

Newt stared. Minho NEVER giggled. Ever. He was so surprised, he just gaped at Minho like a moron. "Minho, did you just—?"

"No," Minho answered too-quickly, the faintest blush appearing in his face.

Newt realized what had happened and a wide, knowing grin spread over his face. "Oh my god, no way." He sat back on Minho's lap, shaking his head. "You're ticklish."

"Am not," Minho denied.

"You totally are! How come I never knew before?"

"I am not!"

"Min, c'mon, I can tell."

"I was just...Um..."

Newt laughed gleefully. "You're actually ticklish!" he crowed, and Minho growled at him. Then Newt looked him over and a dark smirk twisted his lips. "Where else are you ticklish?"

Minho's eyes widened. "Don't you dare," he said, and tried to get out from under Newt.

Newt pushed Minho back down by the shoulders and then immediately dug his fingers into Minho's ribs. Minho let out a burst of uncontrolled laughter, shoving uselessly at Newt's hands. Grinning broadly, Newt didn't relent; Minho squirmed under him, laughing himself breathless. "Stop! Agh, Newt!"

"No way!" This was revenge for every time Minho had ever tickled Newt. Minho's ribs were certainly ticklish, but Newt wanted to find the other ticklish places on him. Snickering himself, he switched his hands to the sides of Minho's neck. He probed with his fingertips and Minho snorted, shoulders shooting up to try and block it out. "Newt! Quit it!"

"This is awesome!" Newt cheered. When Minho finally managed to grab Newt's wrists away from his neck, Newt just sent them somewhere else. Deviously, he slipped his hands under Minho's shirt. Of course, Minho's stomach wasn't ticklish because well, he had toned muscle there (not that Newt didn't enjoy touching it for the moment). But as soon as Newt stuck his fingers in Minho's sides, Minho's hips lifted off the couch in protest.

"Newt!" Minho gasped out between chortles. "Please!" Newt attacked his sides again and Minho giggled like a girl. He tried twisting away from Newt, but but the blonde was still pinning him to the couch. Newt's fingers climbed up Minho's sides to his ribs again and back down. He was enjoying himself way too much as Minho struggled and laughed beneath him. He'd never seen Minho acting so childlike and carefree, and he'd certainly never known that Minho was so ticklish.

"Oh my God, I'm begging you!" Minho tried to get up and Newt stopped him again. "Newt!"

"Okay, okay," Newt sniggered and finally pulled his hands from Minho's shirt. "That's revenge for tickling me, you shank." He playfully punched Minho in the shoulder.

"Sorry..." Minho's chest rose and fell as he got his breath back, rubbing his sides. Wincing, he offered Newt an apologetic smile. "Damn, I didn't know it hurt so bad afterward."

"Jerk."

"You're the jerk; you just freaking attacked me."

"You deserved it."

"Ugh."

Newt bent down and placed a sweet kiss on Minho's nose. "Guess I am the arrogant one now," he teased.

Minho huffed. "Whatever."

He had to make a run for it before Newt decided to take a little more revenge.