Re: Quicklog, Patrick's cabin: Patrick G/Newt P
[Patrick's definition of a kiss was most simplistic: If no one was naked, no other important body parts were touched, and lips were pressed together, then this was kissing. He did not have as good a definition for when one kiss became two, man, but maybe he would consider this at a later time.
Dude was not deaf. He heard the sounds Newt was making. He might have missed the widening thighs, but he did not miss the sounds; they did not frighten him off. The span of time it took to reel Newt upward also did not frighten him off, though it did allow for a moment of thinking and retreat, but he did not retreat. His knee was firmly placed on the mattress and between Newt's thighs, and he was tipped over and bowed to kiss Newt, hands on sharp cheekbones that felt nothing like Des,' dude. There was also no long hair to grab onto, and the body against his, where they touched, was flat. He felt the hand move to his hip. He felt the purchase Newt sought on the floor to make the kiss more of a crush. He fought none of these things.
He widened his mouth over Newt's, giving Newt permission for exploration in the deliberate opening, and then he took the same in return. He pressed his thumbs with increased pressure against the dude's jaw, and then he mimicked the licking over teeth, which Patrick had never done, and then there was more of that overeager brush of tongue against tongue.
The fingers on his hip flexed, and Patrick dropped feckless fingers to Newt's throat and slid his hand where the man had freed pearl buttons earlier. The skin was hot beneath his hand, and this is what made the dude finally draw back and stand straight. He licked his lips distractedly; they were spit-shined and damp, and he was slightly tenting his shorts.
Dude cursed in elvish, and then he flopped back onto the bed (at Newt's side) and draped his forearm over his eyes.]