Minho stretched, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face. And he never was happy in the mornings. He wasn't as homicidal as Newt, but waking up fully content and ready to take on the world? Yeah, not a normal feeling he associated with waking up.

Of course, not every morning was the day after finally asking out the boy he had been pining over for a month and a half. Brenda and Jorge could finally stop leering at him. And as soon as they even hinted at liking someone, Minho was going to be ruthless.

Also, today was a snow day. So great day all around.

And, morally, the only way he could utilize this extra day was by lying around doing nothing. He had no choice. Minho snuggled into his pillow before turning his head and cracking open an eye.

His laptop charger was against the wall. One perk about being RA was that he had no roommate, the downside of that was that he had no potentially nice roommate that would grab his shit from the other side of the room AKA more than four feet from his bed. His laptop was dying and he may have woken up content with life, but that didn't mean he was willing to leave his cocoon of blankets. The heat (or lack thereof) in the dorm buildings left much to be desired.

He was in a predicament.

His door knob jerked. Minho may have jumped and tumbled out of his bed with a tangle of blankets. An irritated sigh was heard in the hallway.

Knock, knock, knock.

Minho smirked. He could think of only a few people that could be. And by a few, he meant hopefully one.

Knock, knock.

"Open the bloody door!"

Minho grinned, kicking off a particularly twisted sheet. "But I'm so comfortable in my bed."

Newt's silence sounded supremely unimpressed.

"And it's too early for this."

"It's noon," Newt said dryly through the door.

"Exactly!" Minho exclaimed, dumping his blankets on the bed and shoving his dirty clothes against the wall. Newt had seen his room in worse state, but that was before. He wanted Newt to be comfortable. Of course, everything else was still in a disorganized heap...Minho shrugged. Newt's room would be the same state as his if Alby wasn't OCD.

"Minho..."

"Newt, babe, I would move for you, but...effort," Minho said, drifting towards the door.

"Oh, fuck you."

Minho slammed the door open, dragging a startled Newt inside. "If you insist."

"Shank, you were waiting for that," Newt muttered, not resisting too much as Minho shut the door behind them and tugged Newt towards his bed. Newt was still in his PJs and his hair was matted to the right side of his face. He looked adorable.

"No, really?"

"Shut up," Newt said, no heat behind his words. He instantly burrowed in Minho's warm blankets. Minho subtly tested the recently-developed boyfriend waters by wrapping his arms around the perpetually cold Newt and folding in on him. Newt snuggled back so Minho counted it as a success.

"Not that I'm complaining," Minho said, wrapping a leg around Newt. Newt nestled impossibly closer, "I'm just surprised you walked through the cold hallway to get here."

Newt hummed. "Alby left to get food."

"Ah," Minho said, frowning. He's sure that answers his question somehow, but he would rather continue cuddling Newt than analyze it too much. Alby probably went to the cafeteria. It was a few hundred yards away from the dorms and remained open despite the snow day. College kids still had to eat.

"To the cafeteria." Bingo. Minho should be a detective.

"I figured," Minho mumbled, nuzzling Newt's bed head.

"That's outside."

"The cafeteria is indoors."

"The building is outside."

"Yeah...?"

Newt huffed. "Feed me."

"Oh, you're using me."

"Obviously," Newt said. "I'm not walking through snow and ice."

Minho smirked, running a soothing hand down Newt's arm. "Why do you hate the snow so much?"

Newt turned so they were face-to-face. His warm breath puffed on Minho's face as he sighed. Minho bit back a grin. Newt's hair was sticking up everywhere. It made for a great picture. Shame his phone was on his desk, assuming of course he could either make Newt oblige to have his photo taken or distract him. God, Minho was already going to be the half of the couple that wanted to photograph everything. He could already tell. "Because it's cold. I have no desire to be cold. Cold kills people. Have you heard about Buffalo? They got eight feet of snow and now they're worried about floods because that amount of snow is fucking unnatural. Snow is evil. Cold is evil. So. I avoid it or bundle up."

Minho chuckled. "You're cute when you're angry."

Newt scowled—adorably—flicking a piece of hair out of his face. "I'm not cute."

"You really are."

"No."

"Yes. I'm allowed to comment on your physical appearance with no repercussions now," Minho said. "It's rule 36 of the Boyfriend Contract."

"Alright," Newt said. "Then let's talk about your hair."

"My hair?"

Newt nodded. "Your hair is unbelievably vexing. I don't understand it."

Minho blinked, running a hand through his hair. "Vexing?"

"Yes! Did you just wake up?"

Minho nodded hesitantly.

"Fucking knew it," Newt said triumphantly. "Your hair is so effortlessly perfect all the time. I don't know if it's an Asian thing or a Minho thing but not everybody rolls out of bed with model hair. Some people have to work at it."

Minho preened. "Isn't your 'working at it' running a comb through it?"

"Shut up, your hair looks all stylized and shit. Like you put effort into it. It's unfair."

Minho shrugged. "Some people got it, some people don't. Don't worry, babe, I'll still accept you and your peasant hair."

Newt made a point of ruffling Minho's hair and then glaring at the result. Minho smiled innocently. "I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because I have food?"

"...I can't fight that logic."

"It is brilliant logic," Minho rolled out of bed, not smothering his laugh when Newt rolled with him. Newt practically convulsed when the cold hit him and quickly burrowed back under the blankets.

Newt glared at him over the blankets. "Shut up."

"Didn't say anything," Minho said, grabbing a pizza box from the fridge and then tossing his laptop charger closer to his bed. Newt, because he is a lovely person, caught the charger and plugged it into Minho's laptop. He grinned, situating the pizza box on the foot of the bed and leaned over Newt. Newt raised an eyebrow as Minho caged him in with his arms but didn't otherwise react. "You're brilliant, by the way."

"You're lu—"

Minho cut Newt off with a kiss, grinning at Newt's startled expression. Surprising Newt was quickly becoming his favorite pastime. He cupped Newt's cheek, tilting his head for a better angle. Newt's lips just began moving against his own when Minho rolled to his side of the bed with a departing, obnoxious smack of lips. Newt frowned at the lack of contact. Minho smiled softly, tangling their fingers together as he grabbed his paper towel roll.

"Oh, it's already like that, huh?" Newt drawled, wrapping Minho's arm over his shoulder.. "We haven't even gone on a date yet."

"This could be considered a date. You are using me for food."

"Details," Newt dismissed, grabbing a slice of pepperoni.

"Wait, how did you know I had food?"

Newt rolled his eyes. "You have an escape plan in mind in case the zombie apocalypse breaks out while we're in college. I felt like assuming you had food when you knew snow was in the forecast was not that much of a leap."

"It's good to be prepared," Minho defended.

"I didn't say it wasn't."

"Double negative, English major," Minho teased. "So you did mean to say it was?"

"Your plans are very good," Newt enunciated. "Better for you?"

"I wasn't the one who butchered the English language."

"I did not butcher the English language. You're so dramatic."

Minho put a hand over his heart. "Excusez-moi?"

Newt's unimpressed expression was ruined by his twinkling eyes. "What do I see in you?"

"Perfect hair."

Minho probably should have expected the pillow shoved in his face and, considering that Newt wasn't even an inch away, the pillow stung more than what Minho thought was strictly necessary. Newt patted Minho's head after he collapsed on the bed, smirking at his pout.

"Pizza?" Newt offered innocently.

"You're asking me if I want my own pizza?"

"Yep."

"Give me a slice. We're watching Netflix."

"You're such a diva," Newt said, tossing a slice at Minho's face as he reached for his laptop.

"Aww thanks, babe," Minho said, lifting the greasy pizza off his cheek.

"No problem, darling. So what do you want to—gross, stop. Why?"

"You put grease on my face, I put grease on you. I have to keep the moneymaker clean."

Newt wiped his arm off with a nearby towel. "Disgusting."

"Karma is a bitch."

"Apparently," Newt said before frowning. "Why are all inanimate objects girls?"

"To be fair, living objects can also be girls."

"You're not helpful."

"I learn from the best."

Newt rolled his eyes. Minho smirked. "So what are we watching?"

"Netflix."

Newt sighed. "Why must you do this?"

"I only try to help," Minho insisted.

"Why do I find that hard to believe?"

"Do you have trust issues?" Minho mused, wrapping around Newt from his reclining position. Sitting up seemed like so much effort right now. And Newt was so comfortable. "We can talk about our feelings if you want."

Newt ran a hand through Minho's hair. "You're really not as funny as you think you are."

"Don't worry. Even if I'm half as funny as I think I am, I'm still hilarious."

Newt snorted. "Whatever you want to believe, darling."

"Thanks for the sincerity, babe."

"Hey," Newt said, pushing Minho's chin up, forcing their eyes to meet, "I'm here for you."

"When the rain starts to pour?"

Newt's eyes suddenly widened, jerking up to type on Minho's laptop. Minho squawked at his pillow's abrupt departure. "We're watching Friends. Friends is on Netflix, right?"

"Maybe?"

"No, why," Newt said distressed after a few seconds of rapid typing. "It doesn't come on Netflix until January. January. And, despite what the weather thinks, it's not even winter yet."

Minho wrapped an arm around Newt, crowding behind him so he could hook his chin over Newt's shoulder. "Want to watch it illegally online somewhere?"

Newt turned his face, capturing Minho's lips briefly before sliding off the bed. "Definitely."

"Where are you going?" Minho asked, frowning. He was not whining. He was merely concerned why his boyfriend escaped his grasp with only a peck on the lips. It wouldn't be retaliation from earlier...probably. He extended a beckoning hand. "Come back to bed."

Newt smirked but kept out of Minho's reach. "I'm getting hot chocolate from my room, which is an appropriate beverage for a Friends marathon."

"You're moving for me? Through the cold hallways?"

Newt spun around at Minho's door, his cheeky grin not quite covering the fondness in his eyes. "You're worth it."

Minho flushed at Newt's impish grin as he turned the knob and left. Their relationship isn't even 24 hours old and Minho felt giddy. He always had the nagging worry that the transition from friends to more would be awkward but everything felt so natural. Thank God for snow and late night fire alarms. He was hoping to keep Newt for a long time.

The door jerked in its lock. Minho laughed as loud swears erupted from the hallway.

"Stop locking your bloody door. I was gone for maybe th—"

Minho grinned, yanking Newt in his room, cutting off his rants with a kiss.