Re: Outside the Homestead: Patrick G/Newt P
You're welcome, dude. Patrick was entirely comfortable with being climbed upon these days. It was not an entire 180 from his previous lack of comfort with close contact involving someone of the same sex (namely Newt), but there was no tension to the dude upon the steps as Newt's long leg shifted over an equally long leg encased in cotton leggings in tan. He laughed when Newt attempted to 'my dude,' and it was a youthful laugh despite the deepness of it, the war memories making it more sedate (as if Patrick needed more reasons to be too serious, man), but he was contented with his hands upon Newt's ass and the sun shining down on them both. "I was concerned you had decided not to return," he said, and this time it was not joking; the dude was serious.
"I have missed you," he agreed (with all due seriousness), hands sliding up from Newt's ass to slip beneath cream pullover and over skin that he knew to be freckled and reddening by this point; Newt was easy, man, and this was no insult. "I had begun to forget how you felt upon my lap," he concurred, though this was in no way true, and he just watched the play of consideration upon Newt's face as the Newt thought further. Patrick's light gaze did not drop to the long fingers traveling over his shoulders and chest to pluck at thread; the dude waited. "My bro is always a knob of massive proportions," he concurred, though there was sibling fondness in his voice, paired with the concern of needing to tell Adrian what he had recently learned about their potential parentage.
But a spike of quiet anger came next. He did not rage or rail, but it was there and Newt knew him well enough (Patrick knew) to recognize it upon his features. "That you might make a mistake," he echoed incredulously.