Re: [quicklog: newt/nameless]
[If Adrian could see any of this - and it would break precedent - and Nameless was aware, he didn't let on. He approached fucking Newt easily, with zero hesitation. Who gave a fuck if he pissed Adrian off? That was just gonna be a side effect of his fucking life going forward. If he wanted to fuck Newt, he should be able to. If Newt didn't want to fuck Adrian, then that was Adrian's problem to solve, not his. He lived that fleeting triumph on the edge of a moment, that he had won over any whining of Newt's conscience. He loved it. He did. He loved being against someone's better judgement. It washed the taste of the last few days clean from his mouth.
Newt's mouth tasted like whiskey, and so did his, and there was still a little smoke burn in it, Newt's fingers grazing along the shaggy edge of his hair (it needed a cut, but he liked it long) and slid along the small of his back. He felt a tug, deep in his gut, that said he ought to take this a little slower. Enjoy it a little more than last time, good as it had been to fuck Newt legless in a few sticky minutes. A little voice in his ear whispered that it might not be quite so easy to get here, next time, that he should enjoy it while he had it, but he brushed it off. Easy? No. But he wasn't gonna let himself by crushed by Adrian March.
He didn't think much about the implications of telling Newt how lucky he was. It was true. Nameless was confident enough to know he deserved to be appreciated, and that he had something on the line here too. There were other men - other men even in this little town - who he could spend the night with tonight. There were men who would be accommodating. Easier. But Nameless wanted to fuck Newt. So he was lucky. If Nameless had won a silent victory over Newt's reticence, then so had he, and he was smart enough to know it.
Newt was pretty. Objectively speaking. He kind of wanted to put the flat of his tongue on a freckle in some private place, which was weird and still made his cock surge.] No. [Playful, his head tipping down against his shoulder. There was no sense fucking around and pretending it wasn't true, was there?
His eyes lit up at the mention of 'magic tricks,' intense, a little wide, waiting for the hit.] Love 'em. [He sat back a little, still straddling him on the grassy slope, and waited for fireworks. Last time Newt had pulled out a spell that got him lubed up and ready to fuck, so Nameless was genuinely interested to see what he had up his sleeve (ha ha) this time.
He actually yelped a little when Newt's buttons started unbuttoning themselves.] It's like Beauty and the fucking Beast. [He sat up, enough that Newt's pants could unbutton themselves, enough that his shirt could open up and fold away. He watched, hungry for what was underneath.] What's that? [He asked, of the spell mentioned, distracted by the expanse of skin beneath. He still had all his clothes on, and he was going to have to rectify that sooner rather than later.] Does that one unwrap my presents for me too? [He grinned, eyes a little mad-wide with excitement.
They were far enough from town, and it was just late enough, that nobody was likely to wander by and clutch their fucking pearls and call the cops. He rested a hand on Newt's stomach, lips a little pink from crushing against his. The thickets of scars on the knuckles of that hand seemed somehow more real when Nameless was there. After all, they belonged to him. Adrian couldn't have them, any more than he could have this.
He slid his hand into the gap left by the loose button, pressing the open v of Newt's pants wide, seeking soft ginger curls.] Who taught you that spell? [Curiosity, but also a realization. Sly, amused.] Did you learn it from a book? Were you picking out bad books from the library? I bet you were. Shutting the door, locking the lock, and sliding a hand around your cock. [He brushed his fingertips along the base of his cock, still trapped in his pants.] Am I close?