Re: [Climbing: Patrick & Newt]
Chalk offered a timeline of Newt's touch—at least until wiped away. Cheek, nape, throat, clavicle, sternum, all told by ghostly trail against sun-dark skin. Newt slid his fingertips into downy blond, sparse on Patrick's chest. He was fairly gentle, careful not to overstep. He took much less care when it came to the kiss, offered after a pause that allowed Patrick to look at Newt's hand. Patrick's mouth was over his, unrelenting and hard, an insistence that the older man recognized as sublimated want—whatever it was Patrick denied himself, he meted out to Newt's lips and tongue, to the crush of the kiss.
The palm that worked itself over Newt's nipple was surprising. He'd been trying to be aware of their surroundings, even as it grew more and more impossible, but it meant that shift of gloved palm seemed to've come from nowhere, and the supple leather was achingly soft. His nipple hardened at the contact. He sighed, an exhale that he choked quiet. He didn't moan. He was excruciatingly on guard against making such sounds, as he was sure, for one reason or another, it'd be too much for Patrick. But, it did feel good—enough so, that, at first, he thought it'd been him. The moan. But, Patrick was turning impossibly red as Newt opened his eyes, and Newt couldn't help himself. He smiled. Frankly, in his opinion, it was about as good as an erection, wasn't it? In terms of letting someone know you were rather obviously interested.
But, not wanting Patrick to distract himself with feeling self-conscious about it, Newt just shook his head, briefly, too warm even in the t-shirt and borrowed trousers, and, bringing his hand back up from Patrick's chest, he held the man's face as he kissed him. It was a lingering kiss, deep and lush in its usual incongruence with the narrow, whippish man, before Newt pulled back enough to speak, words, breathless, gathering against Patrick's lips like a storm gathered on blood-dark horizon. He knew it might well get him pushed off and away, but he said it, regardless. "I rather like it." He dipped back an inch, to look at Patrick, at his eyes, to see what he made of that.