Re: Outside the Homestead: Patrick G/Newt P
"I don't know either," Newt said of comprehending why Adrian, as of yet, hadn't moved on—or, rather, distinctly seemed not to've in glaring moments. "And he doesn't seem to understand why that's troublesome either." To be honest, Newt would give quite a lot, as well, if it'd make Adrian find someone else and, of course, to give himself (and Patrick) the same peace Patrick wanted for him. Newt sighed again, a small, soft sound amid sunglow, and he gave Patrick a grateful smile, small as it was. "Thank you." Newt broke the rules of engagement, only briefly, to kiss Patrick. There was certainly heat to it, not so far removed, but, mostly, it was but a bubbling up of Newt's appreciation, both for Patrick and that he was here.
He was moved along, with Patrick's lap as the vehicle, as the man resettled them both a few feet further back. Patrick leaned back against the side of the house, and Newt, much helped by the arm under his arse, thank you, smiled again, this all pleasure. Dryly, he agreed to the charming smile and wink, "Oh, yes, of course. We must." Now, Newt did mean to ask what it was Patrick needed to tell his brother, but the other man was helping him with the pullover and it seemed only fair to, in turn, help him with his trousers. As Patrick glanced down, Newt smiled again. "Have I ever?" He asked of playing fair, only to laugh as a pair of twigs grew upward, at Patrick's behest, to finish the job with the pullover. Soft wool was scraped off of skin, fully, revealed the usual galaxy of freckles, the patch of red hair in the middle of Newt's chest, the light toning of his arms. The cold kept small nipples tight and he felt the immediate prickle of gooseflesh, even in the summer night's air.
"Is that fair," Newt began, inching back a bit on Patrick's lap, to lace fingers into the ties of the man's leggings, "because it's you being unfair in kind?" He glanced up through fringe, his gaze golden and molten, and he spread his thighs over Patrick's, so he might reach in to the opening of the man's leggings and find his cock. With fingers around shaft, Newt leaned forward once more, lids drawing down to shield his gaze in lashes, as he parted his lips just so over Patrick's own. "Now," he teased, stroking quite lightly, fingertips dragging more than palm, "you can tell me you've missed me again."