-Um, of course I made a part two to this. I didn't expect to get such wonderful reviews and I had to write down this idea for these two. I hope you like it and please excuse my (once again) excessive use of Minewt fluff. I tend to pack a ton of it in there... XD-

Newt...wasn't used to having a boyfriend. It wasn't like he'd ever had one before and he'd certainly never had one like this before. It wasn't every day, after all, that you found out the bully that had been tormenting you was your soulmate. Newt hadn't chosen for that to happen and honestly, when it did, he still didn't want anything to do with track star, Minho Park. But soulmates didn't have a choice; they were physically magnetic to each other, unable to stay away. He'd found out that that much was true, when Minho had come to him at a football game and confessed that he couldn't keep away from him anymore.

Now, two and a half weeks later, Minho himself was realizing a lot more about soulmates. Every time he was near Newt, he could feel his chest glowing that same, soft red glow it had when he first realized what Newt was to him. The same thing happened to Newt. Now that he'd finally confessed to being with Newt, Minho was trying to treat him as best as he could. Maybe it was guilt too, for what he'd done to the blonde before.

Either way, he was being the best boyfriend Newt could've asked for. There was just one problem:

He couldn't tell if Newt really forgave him because, well, after three weeks, he'd never let Minho kiss him.

There'd been multiple times, missed chances and stolen moments together. After a football game they'd gone to together, Minho had been so caught up in how adorable Newt looked, with his blacked-rimmed glasses and swimming in Minho's leather jacket. Unable to help himself, he'd backed the blonde up against his car. He'd thought they'd have their first kiss then; Newt started stammering and blushing cutely, and closed his eyes when Minho brushed their noses together. And then...he'd politely, gently, pushed Minho away, claiming it was cold and they'd better get home.

Minho brushed it off at the time, thinking that maybe Newt wasn't ready to take their relationship farther than handholding yet. But now...now he couldn't figure out what he was doing wrong. When they were watching a movie at Newt's house, cuddling on the couch, Minho thought he had another chance. But when he leaned in, Newt had stood up quickly, saying he was going to get a drink. Similar things had happened since then, with Minho making the first move and Newt running away. Minho had no clue what was wrong. Maybe Newt didn't forgive him yet, for all the awful things he'd done before. Maybe he was growing tired of Minho. But that was impossible, wasn't it? They were soulmates. Surely, there hadn't been some sort of...mistake there, right?

Minho hoped not. He really did.

He thought he'd have another chance tonight.

The couple was out in a field just outside of town, where Minho had parked his car. It was an uncharacteristically chilly night for the Fourth of July and once again, Minho had loaned his jacket to Newt (just because he loved seeing Newt in it). There was a fireworks display starting soon and the two had a great view from here. No one ever thought to drive out here to see the fireworks. Only Minho knew about this place and he'd wanted to take Newt there. He loved how this place looked at night, with fireflies darting like sparks through the grass and the star-studded sky overhead. However, all thoughts of the scenery were drifting away in the presence of Newt, leaning against the hood of his car next to him.

Newt was in the middle of explaining something about his summer homework, gesturing with his hands and blue eyes alive with thought. He was always passionate about getting good grades in school. Truth be told, Minho was busy watching Newt's expressive hands and imagining those slender fingers in his hair. He swallowed. "Newt?"

"Huh?" Newt asked, as though coming out of a daze. He blinked over at Minho, questioning. Flaxen hair flopped down into his eyes.

Minho, a boot resting on the bumper of his car, grinned over at his boyfriend. "You're cute when you talk about school and go all nerdy on me."

"O—oh." Blushing, Newt glanced away from him, then back again. "I guess I kinda get carried away sometimes..."

"I don't mind."

"But you like...sports and things like that." Newt's words were emphasized with his gaze roving over Minho's Glade High Track sweatshirt.

"So?"

"So, I'm not..." Trailing off, Newt fingered the too-big sleeve of Minho's jacket. The unspoken words hovered over his lips.

Scooting over, Minho let their shoulders brush together. "I don't care," he reassured the blonde. "Why would I care? You're my soulmate." The smile that spread over Newt's face at that made Minho's heart swell in his chest. He smoothed Newt's hair back and affectionately nudged his glasses up on his nose. He remembered how he'd stolen them before, refusing to give them back and shoving Newt into a locker. His soul ached. "I'm sorry for everything I did before," he added in a lower voice. "You know that, right?"

Newt's gaze flicked downward. "I know," he replied. "But you changed. And no one's ever treated me like you do." Looking back up at Minho, he leaned their shoulders together. "I forgive you, Min."

Minho gave a little shiver. He adored the nickname Newt had given him recently and he longed to hear it again and again. Slipping a hand into the back of Newt's jacket, he wrapped an arm around the blonde's waist. He felt Newt shudder at his touch and press into him more. The warmth of body heat flooded into him, making him dizzy. This. Just this. His chest was glowing, warming the fabric of his shirt. He knew that Newt's was too. They were meant for each other, and no one else would ever make them feel like this. With the thought spurring him on, he touched two fingers to Newt's chin. "Newt," he breathed, tipping Newt's chin up.

Newt stiffened. His eyes were blurring, they were so close to Minho's. His breath slipped out and tickled Minho's lips, sending a white-hot flame down his spine. He dropped his gaze to Newt's lips, the sweet, soft curves of them so close. He wanted to taste them on his so badly, it hurt. When he glanced back up at Newt's blue eyes, he noticed the way they were fixed on his mouth. The longing in them had him giving a soft wanting sound as he started to close the distance between them.

And Newt jerked backward, avoiding the almost-kiss. Again. Minho blinked at him and Newt toyed with the hem of his jacket nervously. "I—I..." he tried once, dissolving into silence. Minho could see him searching for words and his heart sank.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, dropping his hand from Newt's face. "I can take a hint."

Newt's brow furrowed. "What d'you mean?"

Bracing his hands on the hood behind him, Minho stopped touching Newt altogether. (even though the aching glow of his soul told him to never stop, never ever) "You don't want to kiss me," he said flatly. "I get it."

"W—what? No, I—" Motions unsure, Newt hooked a finger in the neckline of Minho's shirt. "I never said I didn't want to. Of course I want to kiss you, Minho, I've wanted to for..." Cheeks turning pink, he bit his lip. "I've wanted to for a long time. But..."

Hope stirred in Minho and he studied Newt in confusion. "But what?"

"I've never...kissed before," Newt confessed in embarrassment. "I always think that I'll just...get it, but then you start to do things and I don't know..." He stammered himself into silence and hid his face in Minho's chest, evidently mortified. "I'm an idiot," he mumbled.

Minho stared down at the top of Newt's tousled hair and relief made his shoulders sag. That was all. Newt did forgive him and he did still want to be with him. He was simply nervous about his first kiss. Chuckling, Minho ran a hand over Newt's hair. "You're not an idiot," he said. "Everyone gets nervous."

"Including you?"

"Including me."

After a second, Newt lifted his face from Minho's chest and looked up at him. "...when was your first kiss?"

Minho shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like talking about his past relationships with Newt. "I was a sophomore," he admitted. "It was a girl named Megan, and I kissed her at a party. It wasn't...special or anything. I didn't even like her."

Newt nodded, as though thinking about this for a moment. "So...so how was it? I mean, you wanted to kiss her, right?"

Smiling wryly, Minho skimmed a fingertip through Newt's silken hair and down his cheek. "I don't think it was like how kissing you will be," he replied. "Because I didn't want to kiss her as badly as I want to kiss you."

Newt's ears burned crimson. When Minho's fingertip continued in tracing around the ridge of his ear, Newt's lips parted, a gap of sapphire light leaking from the open leather jacket. Seeing his body react to Minho's touch made goosebumps rise on Minho's skin. "I'm still nervous," Newt admitted in a tiny voice, even as he cupped the back of Minho's neck.

"Just relax, angel," Minho whispered. He looped his arm around Newt's waist again, keeping their sides pressed together. Newt was the one leaning in now, their foreheads touching, then their noses, and then, finally, their lips. Minho was irreversibly lost.

Newt tasted like honey, and sugar, and summer. Everything was tentative, but perfect nevertheless. Newt didn't know what he was doing. His hand on Minho's neck was shaking, but Minho had expected all of that. He just kept teasing Newt's mouth with tiny kisses, taking the lead. The soft touches drew a delighted little squeak and half a smile out of the blonde. Minho nearly grinned himself. Then he pressed a longer, closed-lips kiss to Newt's mouth, not taking it too far yet. He wanted to test this, to see how comfortable Newt was with everything. Newt responded with a gentle hum, half a giggle because the mood was still pretty light. Then Minho took Newt's bottom lip in his teeth and tugged lightly. A gasp escaped the blonde and Minho took his chance. He urged Newt's lips apart with his own and the kiss took on an entirely new meaning.

They were only kissing for a moment, their lips slotting together perfectly. When Minho's tongue barely grazed Newt's for the first time, Newt made a throaty noise and broke it. They stared at each other, breathing raggedly, flushed. "What?" Minho managed to ask, struggling to catch his breath. Holy hell, he wasn't used to how one kiss from Newt could completely unravel him.

"I just..." Reaching up, Newt touched his lips with his fingers. "I wasn't expecting that, that's all."

Minho grimaced. "Was it...bad?"

Newt's eyebrows shot up. "Are you kidding me?" he asked incredulously. Then he was gripping the front of Minho's sweatshirt and hauling their lips together again. Minho's mind flew away.

It was hot and deep before he knew what was happening. Newt was clinging to him like it was all he wanted, and Christ, his tongue was much too clever, and Minho wanted moremoremore. His soul was pulsing with light now, seeping through his shirt. It urged him forward, told him to not stop and ravish Newt here, now. Newt licked his lower lip and tangled his fingers in Minho's spiked black hair. Whimpering, Minho pushed off from leaning against his car. Facing Newt now, he took the blonde by the hips and hefted him up. Newt didn't protest when Minho set him on the hood and stepped between his knees. Rather, he made a truly delicious sound and wrapped his arms around Minho's neck to get closer.

They were full-on making out now. Minho couldn't care less. He smoothed his hands up Newt's jeans, over his thighs, the curves of his hips. He relished every purr that fell into his mouth from Newt's lips. He knew, in that moment, that he wanted this forever. "You're so shucking gorgeous," he breathed between their frantic kissing. "I can't believe how I never noticed, how I treated you. I was so stupid, Newt, so stupid. I'm sorry."

"I forgive you," Newt gasped out. "Minho, I forgive you, Minho, Minho..." Minho's name was all he could say, slipping out in whispers as he lost himself in more heated kisses. Shifting backward on the hood of the car, he tugged Minho with him.

Hot fire lit up Minho's insides as he bent over Newt, actually climbing onto the hood with him and caging Newt's hips between his knees. He moved to stretch out on top of Newt, twining their legs. Bracing his forearms on either side of Newt's head, he ducked to kiss him again. Newt's lips moved with his languidly, a hungry mewl slipping out of him. His fingers danced down Minho's chest to the hem of his shirt. Daringly, he snuck a hand underneath and felt the strength of Minho's toned abs. The touch sent a jolt through Minho's body and he gasped. Newt had never touched him like that before. It was intoxicating. "Newt," he murmured, and pressed his mouth to Newt's so hard, it pulled a groan out of Newt. Newt angled his head desperately, letting Minho lick the breaths from his tongue.

They were crazy for each other. The only thing that made them pause was something hard bumping into Minho's nose. There was a muffled, "ow," from Newt and Minho tore away from the kiss, puzzled. He looked down admiringly at Newt's heated lips and mussed hair. And damn, he didn't know how much he would love seeing Newt's glasses fogged up slightly. A burst of laughter escaped him and Newt grinned sheepishly. "Sorry," Newt mumbled, fingering the rim of his glasses. "I think they hit you."

"It's fine. Here, let me, sweetheart," Minho cooed, easing the glasses off of Newt's nose and folding them closed. He tucked them safely in his back pocket. Then he sank his fingers of a hand into Newt's hair and ran it between his fingers. "Can you see all right?"

"Yeah," Newt answered. "I'm fine."

"I'm not used to seeing you without them." Minho trailed little kisses down Newt's nose. "You look cute."

"Cute?" Newt repeated, the happiness clear in his voice.

"And stunning." Minho pecked Newt's lips, then moved down to touch his lips to his chin. "And sexy." Newt laughed then, and it was the sound that Minho's soul longed for every day. "What?" Minho asked uncertainly.

"No one ever calls me sexy," Newt giggled, shaking his head. "I'm too much of a nerd to be, t—to be—" He cut off then, because Minho had ducked down and was kissing his neck. No one had ever kissed Newt's neck before. His head fell backward, back arching up, and his fingers clenched in the back of Minho's shirt. The hottest noise Minho had ever heard was the moan that escaped Newt's throat then.

They were all over each other. Minho was tasting the curve of Newt's throat under his lips and Newt's hands mapped out his body. No clothes came off, but every part of them ached with wanting it. Even though he'd only just graduated from high school and Newt was still a junior, Minho didn't know if he'd be able to hold back. If he'd kissed a little lower to Newt's collarbone, or if Newt's hands had strayed too far up the back of his shirt, he didn't know if they would've gone farther, as far as they could go. Luckily, they were stopped when Newt tried to splay his hands over Minho's back pockets. "Ow," he muttered again, making Minho draw back. Newt's face screwed up in confusion, then cleared when he realized what had happened. Blushing, he slipped his fingers into Minho's back pocket and pulled out his glasses. "I forgot they were there."

Minho smirked. "That's what you get for trying touch where you shouldn't," he teased, nuzzling Newt's neck and making him squeak shyly. He was much too adorable. Minho watched in silent affection as Newt put his glasses back on and gazed up at him with pure adoration. Leaning down, Minho pecked Newt's lips again, before slipping his hands under Newt's back; he helped the blonde sit up again, moving to sit beside him with his arm around his hips.

The two sat like that, much like they had before. But this time, Newt rested his head in the crook of Minho's shoulder and Minho hooked his fingers through the belt loop of Newt's jeans. Minho nosed Newt's hair. "Newt?"

"Hmm?" Newt hummed drunkenly, glancing up at the sky. The fireworks would be starting soon.

Minho took a deep breath. "Newt, I—I know we've only been dating for three weeks, and um, that's not a really long time, but we are soulmates, so..." Closing his eyes, he decided to just say it. "I think I love you."

There was silence. Minho braced himself for a disappointing answer. Then Newt stretched up to softly kiss his ear and whisper there, "I love you, too, Min."

Minho couldn't take it. He turned his head so that their lips met again, in a softer, tender kiss.

Fireworks lit up above them.