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Newt woke with a start, sweating and panting from the images that had just flared across his closed eyes. The fear and the pain that still seared through his brain and body whenever he had this nightmare still lingered, so he climbed out of bed – careful not to wake Minho – and walked with shaking steps to the bathroom across the hall.
He felt his way to the sink, as there was obviously no point in turning on the lights, and splashed the icy water in his face. It helped a bit; washed away some of the fear he knew shouldn’t be real anymore, but which still was. Newt knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep again, though, so he dried the water off his face and made his way down the stairs, as silently as he could.
There was no point in waking up Minho for this, it wasn’t something he couldn’t handle himself.
He didn’t know what time it was, but judging by the thick silence that lay over the apartment building and the streets outside, it was sometime in the middle of the night: the hours between the time when most had come home from various bars and clubs, and the time when those who started work way too early had to get up.
He found the kettle on the bench and filled it with water, turned it on and found a cup and a teabag from the cabinets. He smelled the tea to make sure he got the right one. Chamomile.
Yeah, yeah, he knew he was setting the standard for English stereotypes here, but tea always calmed him down. Say what you want.
He settled down with his cup of steaming liquid at the kitchen table, and carefully took a sip. He heard Minho before he had started on the stairs, and Newt sighed. He’d woken him after all. He wasn’t really sorry about it, though, as Minho was much more effective than tea when it came to calming him down after a nightmare, Newt just didn’t want to depend on him every single time.
When Minho flicked on the lights, the darkness in Newt’s vision changed just a few shades, but it was still nothing more than darkness. He took another sip of the tea. The air behind him moved as Minho passed, pulled out the chair to Newt’s left and sat down.
“Hey”, he said, softly, and his hand touched the bare skin on Newt’s arm. “You ok?”
Newt nodded, wrapped his fingers around the warm cup on the table. Minho’s soft fingers made gentle circles on Newt’s arm, trying to rub the pain away. It worked, and Newt closed his eyes a few seconds in appreciation. He could hear Minho stretch out to his left, and a second later, the sound of the radio filled the kitchen. The moment after he turned it on, a new song started, and Newt vaguely recognized it as Elton John. He couldn’t remember the title.
Minho turned up the volume a little, stood up, and fished Newt’s hand away from the cup he was holding.
“C’mon”, he said, pulling Newt to his feet. “Dance with me”.
“Minho, you know I don’t…”
“Just this once. I’ll lead, it’s easy”.
Newt sighed, but let Minho take his hand in his and place the other one on his waist. Newt put his on Minho’s shoulder.
There was a time
I was everything and nothing all in one
They didn’t move around much, but Minho led him carefully around in circles, barely swinging back and forth to the gentle tones of the music.
When you found me
I was feeling like a cloud across the sun
They stood almost nose-to-nose. Newt could feel his boyfriend’s warm breath on his cheeks, and he knew Minho was looking at him. He could almost – almost – picture his warm eyes, his soft expression, even though he had never actually seen him.
I need to tell you
How you light up every second of the day
But in the moonlight
You just shine like a beacon on the bay
Minho leaned his forehead against Newt’s, and Elton John’s voice flooded comfortably through the kitchen as he started on the chorus.
And I can't explain
But it's something about the way you look tonight
Takes my breath away
It's that feeling I get about you, deep inside
And I can't describe
But it's something about the way you look tonight
Takes my breath away
The way you look tonight
Newt smiled. He’d heard the song before but had forgotten the lyrics, and maybe the irony in the situation should make him sad or frustrated or angry, but it didn’t. It made him happy, a silent happiness that sneaked its way into his chest and settled there.
With your smile
You pull the deepest secrets from my heart
In all honesty
I’m speechless and I don’t know where to start
Minho removed his forehead from Newt’s, and his mouth came to a stop right next to his ear. The hand on Newt’s waist pulled him a little closer. So silently it was almost a whisper, Minho sung the lyrics to the chorus, his mouth never leaving it’s place next to Newt’s ear, his breath tickling his neck.
And I can't explain
But it's something about the way you look tonight
Takes my breath away
It's that feeling I get about you, deep inside
And I can't describe
But it's something about the way you look tonight
Takes my breath away
The way you look tonight
Newt let go of his hand, and let his own fingers come to rest on Minho’s chest instead. He tucked his head under his boyfriend’s chin where he fitted perfectly, and he soon felt Minho’s arms around him.
“It’s true, y’know”, Minho said, voice still low and soft.
“What?”
“You look so beautiful tonight”.
Newt smiled into Minho’s neck.
“Yer so sappy, Min”.
A small laughter shook its way up through Minho’s throat until it escaped from his lips.
“When you need me to be, I can be as sappy as anyone”.
Newt just murmured in response. He realized he was suddenly very tired, and he leaned on Minho as if he was a pillow.
“You’re tired”.
“Mmmm…”
“Want me to carry you?”
“Mmmm…”
Minho took that as a yes and scooped him up off the floor, carried him up the stairs and put him down on the bed. The mattress shifted as Minho climbed in next to Newt, wrapped him in a hug, and sighed. Newt fell asleep almost instantly, listening to Minho’s breathing and steady heartbeat, and feeling the warm hands gently rubbing his back.