Re: Quicklog, Patrick's cabin: Patrick G/Newt P
They do like to baby you. I can understand it, from Connie, especially, since she mothered you. Adrian—perhaps it's how he understands your relationship. He's narrow views of these things, sometimes. [It was one way or not at all, to Adrian. Newt knew that from experience.] I'm glad she's well. I know it was quite the rough year for all of you. You're building a pool, you said? Somewhat early for it, but it seems a good start. [Newt smiled.] I know you won't.
[The brushing past the brushing past got another long look from Newt, but he left it, as he'd done most times before.—Now, if he felt at all uneasy at the difference in age between himself and Patrick, well, it certainly didn't stop him, did it? Newt rather forgot to say anything about it. Patrick remained fast in bed, and Newt stood. He espied Pickett, outside the little house on a branch, and he knew the bowtruckle wouldn't go too far.—He crossed the room to the bed, his stomach a churn.] One of my clubs, is it? [It was something to say, but nothing thought about with any concentration. Newt should've tugged Patrick up from the bed, but he was a train on rails now, a planet on parabola path, and he let his knee find the feather bed between Patrick's thighs.—If this was a bad idea, he certainly didn't realize it. He only knew that he'd been given permission to kiss Patrick, which he'd rather wanted to do since seeing the sod at Destiny's. He was alert to any changes in body language, any stiffening or signs of discomfort, but if there weren't any brightly telegraphed, he put his hands to either side of the other man on the bed. Close, and his gaze caught with Patrick's, then slipped to the man's mouth when he was close enough. He leaned against him bodily, to kiss him, leaving no time or room for doubt to bloom—hopefully in either of them.]