Re: Quicklog, Patrick's cabin: Patrick G/Newt P
[Newt wasn't thinking about Patrick's gender either, all things being equal. But, he was thinking about Patrick. Which was perhaps the danger of it. But, as he tasted and kissed pink lips, he thought about them. As he pressed up to broad chest, he thought about it. The flex of bicep under his hand got its due, and he knew the man's skin—if he looked—would be warm, tight, and flawless under reign of freckled fingers. Patrick's hand came to the back of his neck, where ginger hair was shorn. For whatever reason, Newt found this encouraging. Patrick wasn't lying there, simply allowing him to smear himself atop him, and that inspired him perhaps more than it ought've, because he did part his lips, and when Patrick licked in past lips and teeth, Newt only offered more.
He was shoved, and, for the flash of a second, Newt rather thought he was being rebuffed. But, before panic could set in, Patrick was there, knee between splayed thighs. Now that he needn't prop himself up in any way, Newt brought one hand to Patrick's jaw, to drag the rough blade of his thumb there, and the other hand settled flat on the man's collarbone, feeling the heat of him through that shirt.—Patrick was keeping track, he figured, of the kiss, so he relinquished himself to it. He didn't try not to be turned on, though perhaps he should've. At least he kept himself from doing anything that involved hips. He simply gave back what he got, and broached Patrick's lips with his tongue, shifting seamlessly from giving to taking.]