Spoil Me
Title: Spoil Me
Pairing: 2min
Rating: PG
Genre: fluff, marriage!au
Warning(s): mpreg. yeah I know
Word Count: 1585
By the end of his first trimester, his twelfth week, Minho noticed he was beginning to show. His skinny jeans would no longer button over the small bump protruding from between his hipbones, and his ribs were becoming less visible. The lean muscle he had built in the past kept him from showing too obviously, but now he could smooth his palms down his stomach and feel the gentle slope of his soft, pregnant belly.
This physical sign of his pregnancy was a cold dose of reality for Minho. Disregarding the morning sickness that was finally ebbing, the increasing mood swings even he couldn't deny and the fuzzy ultrasounds that Taemin had clutched his hand through, this suddenly made it all real. It was a little bit scary, to catch a glimpse of himself in the window or the mirror and see his belly, small and round, pushing out from beneath his shirt. Exciting, and scary.
He didn't feel ready to have a baby; give birth, whatever he should call it. This whole situation was incredibly foreign and weird and Minho still wasn't completely used to it, to be honest. Men didn't get pregnant; that kind of thing didn't happen in real life, or at least his life. But here he was, living every day thinking about the person inside him. His child. The child he was having with Taemin.
Minho didn't regret it, even if only for that reason; this was Taemin's child. He might have been insecure, still a little shell-shocked definitely scared, but the thought that he was having Lee Taemin's child still made his knees weak every time he thought about it. He could never regret that, accident or no.
Lee Taemin was the love of his life; it was as simple as that. Before this had happened they'd been in a very close relationship. They were best friends, lovers, and had just moved in together a few months before discovering that Minho was pregnant. Though Taemin had unequivocally accepted Minho and their child upon receiving the news, Minho was still biding his time in marriage. He wanted their child to grow up in a stable home, wanted more than anything to raise a family with Taemin, but he didn't want his hormones or their child to guilt Taemin into a binding he wasn't ready for.
So right now, life for Minho was focused on Taemin and the child now bumping out from underneath his shirts and making him regularly ill…in a good way. Yeah, pregnancy was definitely changing him. For the most part, he was trying to take it one day at a time; otherwise he'd probably just spend most of his time curled up and crying in bed.
It was hard to get used to all the foreign things his body was doing, but Taemin was understanding, gentle and so, so caring. He was spoiling Minho, to be honest, but Minho thought he deserved a bit of spoiling from time to time, in his condition.
//
When Taemin came home from work sometime during Minho's thirteenth week (everything was timelined by Minho's pregnancy now), it was to find Minho sprawled out on the couch in the living room, shirtless and sweaty. His overgrown hair curled at his temples and over his neck, flopping over his eyes as his head was thrown back on the arm of the couch carelessly. Minho had his sweatpants riding low and both hands crossed gently over his belly as he laid still, eyes closed. Taemin grinned at the sight.
After quietly setting down his bag and removing his shoes, Taemin padded over to Minho, crouching by the sofa in order to see him.
"Minho-yah," he prodded gently. "Are you asleep?"
Minho cracked one eye open, lips already pulled into a pout he probably didn't know he had.
"Well, I've been trying," he mumbled, brow furrowing slightly. "But your kid is giving me heartburn and I can't sleep."
Taemin couldn't stop the chuckle from slipping out. He made up for it by reaching out and gently pushing Minho's hair off his damp forehead. "Aw, I'm sorry. I'll scold him later." When Minho was silent, Taemin smoothed his cool hand down Minho’s cheek and asked, "How has your day been otherwise?"
"Hm...I'm tired," he said, gazing up at Taemin, letting himself continue to be soothed. "But every time I lay down I start to feel sick again, and also I've been so hot today for some reason, as if somebody turned up my thermostat…and plus my nipples are like swollen, Taemin-ah, I swear I'm actually growing breasts or something they're so sensitive. I can't even wear a shirt practically. But that doesn't matter anyways because I'm so hot."
This all spilled out in a rambled mess of pent-up frustration, and Taemin kept quiet all throughout the sudden rush of complaints, speaking only when Minho had settled back into a defeated pout, brows now pulled up pathetically and eyes dark and big.
"Sensitive, huh?" Taemin murmured, hand sliding down Minho's neck to his chest, rubbing a thumb over one tender nipple. Minho started, his eyelids fluttering as he made a noise somewhere between an affirmation and a whimper. So sensitive.
Taemin smiled, giving another teasing caress. He leaned forward to kiss Minho’s neck when his head lolled to the side, mumbling something like “I’m sorry to hear that” before sucking at the skin there. Minho’s hands twitched to clutch at Taemin’s lower back now, offering no more complaints. Taemin turned him to absolute putty.
Thoroughly enjoying himself, Taemin brought his other hand up so he was stroking both thumbs over Minho’s nipples, reveling in the incredibly soft flesh even as it hardened under his fingertips. They were indeed a bit swollen, like Minho had said; just another affirmation of his condition. Pleased with the thought, Taemin gave a slight pinch, tweaking the nipples playfully. When Minho opened his mouth on a gasping moan, Taemin slid their mouths together, kissing him.
Minho let himself be kissed; discomfort temporarily forgotten as Taemin continued his ministrations, thumbs pressing gently again. Lost, Minho moved his hands from gripping Taemin’s shirt to tangling into the hair at the nape of his lover’s neck, pressing their mouths together more satisfyingly.
Taemin broke away first, with a wet smack of his lips from Minho's, one hand drifting down to caress Minho's stomach.
"I noticed you're starting to show," he said with a smile, sitting back a bit to look at Minho fully.
Minho nodded, giving a vague effort to collect himself after that kiss, oversensitive body still reeling. That was another aspect of pregnancy that he had yet to get used to. Lately Taemin barely had to look at Minho the right way to have him in a daze, ready to beg for something he didn't know he’d wanted two seconds ago.
"You're beautiful, you know," Taemin said, admiring Minho's belly.
"Who're you talking to, them or me?" Minho knew it was a petty question, but that didn't stop it from coming out of his mouth. Taemin looked up, face beaming.
"Both of you," he said softly, leaning forward to kiss Minho once again. "You're gorgeous, Minho-yah. More beautiful every day."
Minho scowled a bit, nibbling on Taemin's bottom lip. "I don't feel that way," he replied, forgoing the fact that he would usually hate to be called beautiful, of all things. "I feel tired and hot."
"I know." said Taemin. "But you can’t see what I see, which is my gorgeous lover, all laid out for me, with my baby--" and here he pulled one of Minho's hands down to press their palms together over his stomach "--just beginning to make himself known."
Taemin silenced any other words Minho may have had by pulling him up into a sitting position, turning to maneuver himself onto the couch behind the elder. He scooped Minho deftly into his lap so he wouldn’t have to get up, Minho’s back still pressed up against the arm of the couch.
Cupping one hand on the back of Minho’s neck, Taemin leaned forward to connect their mouths once again, the other hand reaching around Minho and rubbing the tension out of his lower back.
He was so glad to be back home with Minho. Perfect, pouty Minho.
"I'm home now, Minho-yah," he whispered between long, unhurried kisses. "I'm here, so now I'll take care of you, hmm?" Minho only hummed in the back of his throat, more focused on pressing his body as close to Taemin's as possible in their current position. "I love you, you know that, right?"
At that, Minho broke away, nuzzling his face into the curve of Taemin's neck. "I know," he whispered in turn, finally relaxing in his lover’s attentive hold. "...I love you, too," he responded, a bit shyly. Taemin smiled, dropping a kiss onto the curve of his neck.
It was very comfortable, Minho thought, sitting like this; their arms looped around each other, faces close and words quiet. As he felt himself beginning to finally drift off, comforted by the intimacy, Minho knew he was lucky to have Taemin. Adoring, teasing, wonderful Taemin. He cuddled closer, happy for the first time that day. Taemin hummed softly and began rubbing Minho’s back again, eyes closed.
"Everything will be okay," soothed Taemin, hugging Minho gently despite his sweaty body. "Just let me take care of you. That's what I'm here for."
"Okay," sighed Minho, tipping on the verge of sleep. "Okay."
Pairing: 2min
Rating: PG
Genre: fluff, marriage!au
Warning(s): mpreg. yeah I know
Word Count: 1585
By the end of his first trimester, his twelfth week, Minho noticed he was beginning to show. His skinny jeans would no longer button over the small bump protruding from between his hipbones, and his ribs were becoming less visible. The lean muscle he had built in the past kept him from showing too obviously, but now he could smooth his palms down his stomach and feel the gentle slope of his soft, pregnant belly.
This physical sign of his pregnancy was a cold dose of reality for Minho. Disregarding the morning sickness that was finally ebbing, the increasing mood swings even he couldn't deny and the fuzzy ultrasounds that Taemin had clutched his hand through, this suddenly made it all real. It was a little bit scary, to catch a glimpse of himself in the window or the mirror and see his belly, small and round, pushing out from beneath his shirt. Exciting, and scary.
He didn't feel ready to have a baby; give birth, whatever he should call it. This whole situation was incredibly foreign and weird and Minho still wasn't completely used to it, to be honest. Men didn't get pregnant; that kind of thing didn't happen in real life, or at least his life. But here he was, living every day thinking about the person inside him. His child. The child he was having with Taemin.
Minho didn't regret it, even if only for that reason; this was Taemin's child. He might have been insecure, still a little shell-shocked definitely scared, but the thought that he was having Lee Taemin's child still made his knees weak every time he thought about it. He could never regret that, accident or no.
Lee Taemin was the love of his life; it was as simple as that. Before this had happened they'd been in a very close relationship. They were best friends, lovers, and had just moved in together a few months before discovering that Minho was pregnant. Though Taemin had unequivocally accepted Minho and their child upon receiving the news, Minho was still biding his time in marriage. He wanted their child to grow up in a stable home, wanted more than anything to raise a family with Taemin, but he didn't want his hormones or their child to guilt Taemin into a binding he wasn't ready for.
So right now, life for Minho was focused on Taemin and the child now bumping out from underneath his shirts and making him regularly ill…in a good way. Yeah, pregnancy was definitely changing him. For the most part, he was trying to take it one day at a time; otherwise he'd probably just spend most of his time curled up and crying in bed.
It was hard to get used to all the foreign things his body was doing, but Taemin was understanding, gentle and so, so caring. He was spoiling Minho, to be honest, but Minho thought he deserved a bit of spoiling from time to time, in his condition.
//
When Taemin came home from work sometime during Minho's thirteenth week (everything was timelined by Minho's pregnancy now), it was to find Minho sprawled out on the couch in the living room, shirtless and sweaty. His overgrown hair curled at his temples and over his neck, flopping over his eyes as his head was thrown back on the arm of the couch carelessly. Minho had his sweatpants riding low and both hands crossed gently over his belly as he laid still, eyes closed. Taemin grinned at the sight.
After quietly setting down his bag and removing his shoes, Taemin padded over to Minho, crouching by the sofa in order to see him.
"Minho-yah," he prodded gently. "Are you asleep?"
Minho cracked one eye open, lips already pulled into a pout he probably didn't know he had.
"Well, I've been trying," he mumbled, brow furrowing slightly. "But your kid is giving me heartburn and I can't sleep."
Taemin couldn't stop the chuckle from slipping out. He made up for it by reaching out and gently pushing Minho's hair off his damp forehead. "Aw, I'm sorry. I'll scold him later." When Minho was silent, Taemin smoothed his cool hand down Minho’s cheek and asked, "How has your day been otherwise?"
"Hm...I'm tired," he said, gazing up at Taemin, letting himself continue to be soothed. "But every time I lay down I start to feel sick again, and also I've been so hot today for some reason, as if somebody turned up my thermostat…and plus my nipples are like swollen, Taemin-ah, I swear I'm actually growing breasts or something they're so sensitive. I can't even wear a shirt practically. But that doesn't matter anyways because I'm so hot."
This all spilled out in a rambled mess of pent-up frustration, and Taemin kept quiet all throughout the sudden rush of complaints, speaking only when Minho had settled back into a defeated pout, brows now pulled up pathetically and eyes dark and big.
"Sensitive, huh?" Taemin murmured, hand sliding down Minho's neck to his chest, rubbing a thumb over one tender nipple. Minho started, his eyelids fluttering as he made a noise somewhere between an affirmation and a whimper. So sensitive.
Taemin smiled, giving another teasing caress. He leaned forward to kiss Minho’s neck when his head lolled to the side, mumbling something like “I’m sorry to hear that” before sucking at the skin there. Minho’s hands twitched to clutch at Taemin’s lower back now, offering no more complaints. Taemin turned him to absolute putty.
Thoroughly enjoying himself, Taemin brought his other hand up so he was stroking both thumbs over Minho’s nipples, reveling in the incredibly soft flesh even as it hardened under his fingertips. They were indeed a bit swollen, like Minho had said; just another affirmation of his condition. Pleased with the thought, Taemin gave a slight pinch, tweaking the nipples playfully. When Minho opened his mouth on a gasping moan, Taemin slid their mouths together, kissing him.
Minho let himself be kissed; discomfort temporarily forgotten as Taemin continued his ministrations, thumbs pressing gently again. Lost, Minho moved his hands from gripping Taemin’s shirt to tangling into the hair at the nape of his lover’s neck, pressing their mouths together more satisfyingly.
Taemin broke away first, with a wet smack of his lips from Minho's, one hand drifting down to caress Minho's stomach.
"I noticed you're starting to show," he said with a smile, sitting back a bit to look at Minho fully.
Minho nodded, giving a vague effort to collect himself after that kiss, oversensitive body still reeling. That was another aspect of pregnancy that he had yet to get used to. Lately Taemin barely had to look at Minho the right way to have him in a daze, ready to beg for something he didn't know he’d wanted two seconds ago.
"You're beautiful, you know," Taemin said, admiring Minho's belly.
"Who're you talking to, them or me?" Minho knew it was a petty question, but that didn't stop it from coming out of his mouth. Taemin looked up, face beaming.
"Both of you," he said softly, leaning forward to kiss Minho once again. "You're gorgeous, Minho-yah. More beautiful every day."
Minho scowled a bit, nibbling on Taemin's bottom lip. "I don't feel that way," he replied, forgoing the fact that he would usually hate to be called beautiful, of all things. "I feel tired and hot."
"I know." said Taemin. "But you can’t see what I see, which is my gorgeous lover, all laid out for me, with my baby--" and here he pulled one of Minho's hands down to press their palms together over his stomach "--just beginning to make himself known."
Taemin silenced any other words Minho may have had by pulling him up into a sitting position, turning to maneuver himself onto the couch behind the elder. He scooped Minho deftly into his lap so he wouldn’t have to get up, Minho’s back still pressed up against the arm of the couch.
Cupping one hand on the back of Minho’s neck, Taemin leaned forward to connect their mouths once again, the other hand reaching around Minho and rubbing the tension out of his lower back.
He was so glad to be back home with Minho. Perfect, pouty Minho.
"I'm home now, Minho-yah," he whispered between long, unhurried kisses. "I'm here, so now I'll take care of you, hmm?" Minho only hummed in the back of his throat, more focused on pressing his body as close to Taemin's as possible in their current position. "I love you, you know that, right?"
At that, Minho broke away, nuzzling his face into the curve of Taemin's neck. "I know," he whispered in turn, finally relaxing in his lover’s attentive hold. "...I love you, too," he responded, a bit shyly. Taemin smiled, dropping a kiss onto the curve of his neck.
It was very comfortable, Minho thought, sitting like this; their arms looped around each other, faces close and words quiet. As he felt himself beginning to finally drift off, comforted by the intimacy, Minho knew he was lucky to have Taemin. Adoring, teasing, wonderful Taemin. He cuddled closer, happy for the first time that day. Taemin hummed softly and began rubbing Minho’s back again, eyes closed.
"Everything will be okay," soothed Taemin, hugging Minho gently despite his sweaty body. "Just let me take care of you. That's what I'm here for."
"Okay," sighed Minho, tipping on the verge of sleep. "Okay."