Re: Capital club: Patrick G/Newt P
[Newt didn't have any expectations, really. Except that, at some point, this would end, and he'd rather need to get a hold of himself. That was the extent of it. Otherwise, every second it carried on was a pleasant surprise, every pull closer, every push of tongue. Newt, just as he gave that small press of hipbones to hipbones, sucked on Patrick's lower lip, before pushing back into the kiss as it became more insistent.—Now, he wasn't rock hard either, but he was well on his way, and the resistance only made things worse for Newt. In the sense that it was all rather exciting.—But, Patrick pulled away, and, you know, Newt wondered if he ought thank Merlin or God or someone for intervening here and reminding him to cool his heels. Or, perhaps, he ought just thank Patrick.
They stayed very close. Newt was breathing through his nose quite hard and he licked his lips reflexively as Patrick said they could go to his place. Only to kiss. Newt remembered then that they were in quite the public setting, and he gave a jumpy smile as he pulled back in centimeters.] Of course. [He grabbed his glasses from the bar and slid them on, before blinking dazedly at Patrick, at his mouth. It took his brain a moment to chug into action. He snatched Patrick's hand in his then, and with only a glance spared to see if the dark-haired man was anywhere near, he pulled his friend behind him and back toward the loo.
Assuming Patrick came along, Newt pulled them into an empty stall again and locked the door. And, if he was able, he pulled Patrick up against him and Disapparated in a hook behind navel, a slight press of blackness, then—pop!—they were in the shed.]