Warning: smut! This was originally published on Ao3 on March 18th, 2017 and is being uploaded here for the sake of my own ego.
Also, this is written in an experimental, rather a pretentious style. So there's a warning for that, too.
"I've always thought of it as 'skin hunger'," Newt says musingly, clear out of the blue, and Tina stares at him in confusion. She's thoroughly flummoxed for a full two seconds before she recalls their conversation over breakfast, her wondering aloud at how intently he'd touched her on each return, and rolls her eyes. She stops to adjust her hold on the case and squeeze his arm gently.
"Why is that?" She asks, and he smiles at her shyly when they start walking again.
"I suppose because it feels much like hunger, only it's in the skin instead of in your belly. It makes you itch all over, and only contact with another human will sate it. It's...very hard to describe."
Tina juts her chin playfully, expertly weaving around a stalled pedestrian without breaking her stride. "And what kind of 'contact' would that entail, Mr. Scamander?" There's a playful challenge in her eyes and tone but he doesn't rise to the bait; instead, he looks thoughtful as he glances around.
"You're thinking sex," he answers in a low voice, and for the second time in just as many minutes, Tina's jaw drops. "But it isn't that, or at least not just that. Something as basic as a kiss can go a long way toward alleviating it."
Tina kisses Newt first, the fact of which seems to please him to no end.
They are on the docks, instituting their second unavoidable separation. He had returned days earlier, delivering a copy of his book and revisiting sunshine and warmth into her life. They dance carefully around the silent, unacknowledged thing at the core of their relationship, but that doesn't stop the lingering looks. Or the fleeting touches—the brush of an arm, a cautiously optimistic finger when passing an item to the other. His shyly offered elbow, whenever they left the apartment.
Tina doesn't miss the slow way he gazes at her lips sometimes. She wonders if he noticed the way she stares at his neck and throat, wholly fascinated with the burnished skin there, curious what it tastes like; how it would feel beneath her mouth.
Newt finds the resolve to take her hands as they're saying goodbye, facing each other while autumn winds whip their hair into matching stormclouds. His eyes go from her face to her chest and throat, before landing with an almost audible thump on her lips. Tina smiles at him, and his tongue flashes out to touch his upper lip, lightening-quick. The sight entices and draws her in, and she forgets every reason for waiting in favor of wanting.
Tina leans forward without preamble to guide her mouth to his. There's no tongue and very little pressure at first, just heated weight—until he gasps into it and presses close, angling his chin and orchestrating the purest, sweetest kiss she's ever known. His hands come up to frame her face while her arms go around his shoulders, and he eventually relinquishes her mouth to press open kisses to her cheek and jaw, body trembling in her arms.
"Tina, my Tina," he breathes, over and over, and she can feel the dampness on his cheeks.
"A kiss." She sounds skeptical.
"Yes."
"A kiss. That's it?"
Newt waits until they cross the broad avenue and they are out of the main crush of pedestrians before answering, voice pitched even lower than before. "A hug is the politest way, but that doesn't always...satisfy. A kiss is better. Touching intimately, better still." A surreptitious look around, then: "The more charged the contact, the better you feel afterward, and for a longer period of time."
Tina chews on this for the length of a block, mouth twisting curiously. She sneaks glances at him from the corner of her eye and Newt endures it for a full five minutes before sighing. "I know that look, love. Just ask the question already, and I'll do my best to answer to your satisfaction."
She bites it back for another minute before allowing a teasing smile to creep over her face. "Charged contact, you say? Is that why, sometimes, you'd come back and…?" She makes a vague gesture with her hand, eyes crinkling, and Newt nods stiffly while staring at the sidewalk.
"Yes, Tina. I'm...I'm very sorry."
Tina finds him in the case.
He's hard at work in Frank's old enclosure, at last swapping out the artificial Arizona desert for something more suited to his latest creature acquisition. Tina watches him while shading her eyes, warmed from within by something other than the strong desert sun as he moves, fluid and wholly comfortable in his own skin. Hard work and perspiration eventually inspires Newt to peel off his layers, and she openly admires the flex of sinewy muscle when his shirt joins the growing pile.
He gleams bronze and gold and scar-silver, and Tina squirms in place. She clenches her thighs as heat pulses between them and catches her lip in her teeth when he turns and waves. Poetry in motion, she thinks and recalls the feel of his hand in hers, the corded strength of him pressed against her to instigate wholly-indecent embraces.
Newt ambles over to her, smiling broadly for her sake, and Tina stands to kiss him in greeting. She presses close and then closer still, until their kiss strengthens, deepens. Expands, as it so often does, to become larger than them both and unable to be contained. He draws back to press molten lips to the pulse point at her throat and she gasps, loud and ragged, while her fingers find the scars on his striated back.
Tina ends up pressed to warm canvas, blouse loose and buttons askew, one of his hands covering her breast while the other grinds against her core. She rocks against him unselfconsciously, the friction of her step-ins and trousers spurring her to the edge as he kisses her chest, neck, and jaw.
Newt groans directly into her ear when her leg comes up to wrap around him, and she cries out when the tension snaps and she crumbles, shuddering against him mindlessly as her fingernails cut into his shoulders. She comes down eventually, and he helps her straighten her clothes before dropping a tender kiss on her mouth.
Newt steps away and, to his credit, doesn't try to hide the bulge in his trousers. Neither does he draw attention to it; instead, he makes as if to carry on with his day, and Tina refuses to allow that to stand.
She catches his wrist, and now it's his turn to be spun and pressed into the sun-drenched surface. She kisses his forehead and the laugh-lines around his eyes; she brushes his cheek and his temple, and he smiles faintly when she pulls back to read his face. Pressing her mouth against his jaw makes him gasp raggedly, and the flick of her tongue makes him moan.
She quickly discovers his neck is just as sensitive as hers and she lavishes it with enthusiasm until his breath hitches and his hands are clenched against her skin. "Tina," he manages, and she kisses that away from him too.
Newt's chest is a patchwork, motley collection of scars, freckles, moles and sun-kissed skin. She tastes, suckles, kisses and licks every inch of it before running the flat of her tongue over his nipples. He groans deeply at that, and she nips to signal her approval. His fingers mold to her crown when she drops to her knees, tonguing at the delineation of his trousers before her hands find the buttons hidden at the placket. She meets his eyes from where she kneels before him, a silent question. His throat works as he swallows before he nods once.
Tina's fingers slide against his buttons, loosening them one by one while he makes soft sounds, restless fingers tangling in her hair. She parts the wool to reveal the pearly buttons of his underwear, and those are also subject to her will; they relent without a fight, and she meets his eyes as she tugs the fabric down, past his slim hips and lower still until it's tangled around his ankles.
She breaks their staring contest to take him in, curious hands fingering his length before stroking experimentally. Newt chokes as his head rocks into the canvas with a rustle. Tina barely notices, focused entirely on the warm, velvety, freckled spur right before her nose, nested in wiry copper and excitingly new to her.
Tina purrs while unfurling her tongue to taste him. His length is warm and slightly salty, pleasantly full against her lips, and Newt chokes and tenses with every curious lick. She flicks over the blunt tip experimentally and his head drops forward to choke on her name. Then she wraps her lips around him, and he closes his eyes with a groan.
Tina drags her teeth on accident, the first time she bobs her head, and Newt hisses. Her second experimental dip is better and sees him moaning, which becomes a low, chanted refrain of her name as his fingers knot in her hair, his hips trembling beneath her. She dips and suckles, swirling her tongue and collapsing her cheeks to test his thresholds. It isn't long until he's vibrating with restraint, before Newt goes tense and silent and still, choking out a warning just in time for her to draw back far enough not to be drowned.
He groans deeply, sounding every bit like a creature signaling a successful rut as salty fluid spills onto her lips and tongue. She swallows until he makes a pained sound and gently but firmly extricates himself from her.
Newt wobbles against gravity before slowly collapsing onto the floor, drawing her into the ring of his arms with a shaky laugh. His lips find her forehead and temple, and Tina presses close to soak in his regard as he murmurs wonderingly into her hair.
Tina stops, and Newt keeps walking for a few steps before realizing she's not there. He pauses and seems to steady himself before turning, expression carefully neutral. She closes the gap between them in two strides and sets the case at her feet to take his face in her hands.
"Newt."
He looks away, unable to meet her eyes. She ducks her chin to fill his vision and he, at last, blinks and makes eye contact. Tina smiles and drops a chaste kiss on his mouth. He tenses, visibly distraught with the direction of the conversation, before sighing and wrapping his arms around her. He initiates a second, more loving kiss before releasing her.
"You aren't angry?" he asks as he bends to scoop up his case.
Tina shakes her head and fetches her own parcel. "Not at all. I benefited regularly from it, remember?" She drops a wink, and he gapes.
Tina has had her back against a wall, both literally and figuratively. She never knows it to be such an enjoyable experience until now.
She strokes the hair covering the shaggy head between her legs, and Newt halts the indecent curl of his tongue to suckle the skin on her inner thigh where it is draped over his shoulder, leaving behind livid purple marks. She rolls her head forward to see that his eyes are closed, mouth pressing warm, shaky halos into her skin as his fingers trail over sinew and muscle. He scrapes her with his stubble when he brings his mouth back to her center, pursing his lips to suckle until she keens and digs her crown into the wall.
Newt flicks his gaze up to her and she stares back while moaning loudly. His eyes glow blue in the golden light of dusk, fixed on her without hesitation or shame. He blinks slowly and Tina trembles when he relaxes his jaw to further his reach. A calculated swipe and she breaks, arching up on tiptoes and grinding into his face as she climaxes. He hums in satisfaction, his clever tongue seeing her through.
She returns to herself to find him squatting before her, far from passive. He's taken himself in hand, rocking into his fist while his tongue drags across her skin. She can feel his jerking movements telegraphed through the thigh slung over his shoulder, and she moans encouragingly as he tenses.
Newt's working hand comes up to swipe through her essence before wrapping around himself again. He gasps at the newfound slickness, and Tina's brain stutters when his eyes seek her's once more. She twitches her hips against his mouth and tugs his hair until he finally looks away, pressing his forehead into her leg and breathing deeply.
She's still too keyed-up to move so she uses her voice, instead. "That's it, Newt," she breathes, and other endearments intended to spur him to the brink. He steals more of her slickness and buries his face between her thighs without warning, causing her to cry out, pulling at her hard and shuddering while his come pours over his hand.
Tina strokes his hair until they are both calm, and he tastes like her when she kneels and kisses him.
Newt's face is ruddy with embarrassment as he leads her into the canvassed alley leading to the Port Authority. There's nothing shy in his gaze when he looks at her over his shoulder, however. "Of course I remember," he murmurs, and Tina swallows at the way his low voice thrums through her. "I couldn't forget if I tried, Tina."
She moves closer to take his free hand, squaring her shoulders. "Do you have the tickets?" she asks, unsubtly changing the subject, and he pats his inner pocket before nodding. Tina gazes at the long gangplank, looks at him, and then directs her stare out over the water.
"Storm's coming in. We're going to sail right through it, looks like," she murmurs, and Newt inclines his head toward the ship before stealing one last kiss.
"Are you nervous?" He asks, and she thinks about it for a moment before shaking her head in the negative.
"No. We only have the one room, with the one bunk, and I think...I think I know how we can take our minds off the weather."
He stares at her plainly before moistening his lips. "Tina. Are you sure?"
Her answer doesn't require much thought. It's been on her mind the entire week, and the storm is merely a convenient excuse. She nods and turns the full force of her smile on him, heartened when he gasps and blinks rapidly. "Yes, I am, Newt."
He takes a long, slow look at her, eyes lingering over his favorite aspects of her features. Then he squares his shoulders and leads her to the gangplank and the water, toward their future and life together.
"In that case, my love, we have a ship to catch."
Flashes of lightning streak across the single porthole set in the hull; inside the room, storm-clouds of a different sort gather.
Newt is sprawled indecently between her thighs, tongue working her center as Tina pets his hair. He groans with every stroke and she digs her heels into his back as she teeters deliriously on the brink. His mouth stops pulling at her long enough for three fingers to fill her, stretching her deliciously as she arches and groans. He resumes his luxurious pace before her hips buck strongly enough to displace his mouth.
He lifts his head and looks her over lazily, propping his jaw on one hand. "Do you think you're ready?" he asks lazily as his fingers crook, causing white lightning to sheet across her vision. Tina blinks it away and lifts her head to meet his eyes, finding him flushed and disheveled and wonderfully debauched.
"Will it hurt?" she asks, and Newt swallows.
"It shouldn't," he murmurs before licking a long strip from the bend of her knee to the crease of her thigh. She sighs and he peppers the expanse of skin below her belly button with a hundred kisses. "I intend to make you feel pleasure, instead of causing you pain," he says into the cup of her navel before running his tongue out to taste. A molten pulse works through her, stealing her breath. His fingers withdraw from her and she groans, suddenly bereft. Newt pushes them into his mouth indecently, sucking and licking them clean while Tina fists the scratchy sheets.
"I know you'll do your best," she gasps when she's able to snatch a breath from the air, and he huffs against the underside of her breast. Newt wraps his lips around her nipple instead of answering, causing her to keen and arch and scrabble against his back, and he moves to cover her with his body. Tina welcomes the press and weight of him, something dark and primal guiding her actions, and there's no thought in it at all when she wraps her legs loosely around him.
He groans deep in his chest, the vibration tingling against her skin, and eases the pillow from beneath her head. He guides her hips up to work it beneath them. "This will help make it better for you," he explains shyly, and she kisses him deeply while he lines them up.
Newt breaks the kiss to drop his gaze, and Tina lifts her head to watch him advance until blunt pressure rents her outer defenses and she opens like a flower to grant him access. He sinks in, and there's a brief lick of pain, there and gone again—then he's seated fully and she's stretched beyond all previous sensations, deliciously full.
Newt exhales shakily to stare at her in wonder. "I'm inside you," he murmurs dazedly, reaching out to touch her cheek with unsteady fingertips.
Tina sighs raggedly, leaning into his hand. "Yes, you are." She shifts, and electricity tingles through where they are connected, causing her to sigh brokenly. "Now please, Newt—move..."
She encourages him with the press of her calves, and he gulps before withdrawing and thrusting tentatively. There's an initial tender rub before slick friction takes over. He repeats the motion, rocking their hips together, and Tina gasps when pressure and tension combine and spark along her nerve endings. The third retreat and surge see him settling against her with a sigh, his fingers and mouth seeking skin as the ship tosses, grinding them together with punctured moans and panted promises.
Thunder cracks as Newt nibbles her earlobe. "That's it, Tina," he encourages when she draws tight beneath him, arching against his chest in a desperate bid for contact. One of his hands reaches for the steel support of the bunk while the other captures her breast to roll her nipple between his fingers. He kisses her deeply, the stab of his tongue mirroring where he plunges into her, until breaking away with a ragged sound to bury his face in her throat.
Tina keens and writhes against the sheets, mouth open in abandon as he drives her closer to completion. The ship shudders, their hips meet in one particularly hard surge and she's there, riding the crest of the storm within as they endure the storm without. She keens to announce her release and he plucks the sound from her mouth, sealing them together until she collapses into a sweaty, sated tangle beneath him.
"Newt, Newt, Newt," she breathes, clinging desperately to his arms, and he smiles and eases them into a soothing roll, not unlike the pitch of the ship. He presses moist lips to her jaw asTina sighs and melts into the contact. She wraps her arms around his shoulder to pull him close, feeling the ridge of his scars against her breasts and stomach. She presses her mouth to his ear as he trembles.
"Will you finish inside me?" Tina asks lowly, and he shudders. He nibbles her jaw before raising his head with an effort, hips going still. Newt blinks down at her, torrid eyes focused intensely on her face.
"If that is what you wish," he says slowly. His eyes drop to take in her body and where he sinks into her before refocusing on her face with a shaky exhale. "And—and if the seed should find soil, Tina?" He kisses her tenderly. "What then?"
Tina smiles and wiggles her shoulders against the mattress. "Then, I suppose our child will have parents who love them very much." She turns serious at his expression and rises onto her elbow to trace his mouth with her thumb. "I can't imagine ending our first time together like this any other way, Newt. I'm not trying to...to trap you, if that's what you're thinking. So I'll leave it up to you."
Newt kisses the pad of her thumb before wrapping his lips around it. Tina gasps, and he shares his smile. "I know that, Tina. I just worry that the curse of expectation may be too heavy a burden." A pause, a quick breath...then: "May I make you an honest woman? When we reach land, I mean. Will you allow that?"
Tina grins, as bright and welcome as the sun after a storm, and presses their faces together. "Of course you can," she breathes happily, fingers tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck. "Of course, Newt."
He kisses her with feeling, and as it often does with them, it grows. It deepens and expands until he presses her deeper into the mattress and worships the long line of her throat. His hips resume their previous tempo, rocking into her as she clutches him close and breathes her adoration for him into the still, thick air of the cabin.
Heat builds and overflows and she's released for a second time, attempting to climb into his skin as she gasps. Newt presses close and closer still, his mouth molten when a fine tremor takes him. He spills over the edge shortly after she does, breath ragged as he chokes her name, his warmth filling her when he presses deep and grinds to a halt.
Rain swishes against the hull as he recovers, the tips of her fingers tracing over his back and spine. "No changing the course now," he says eventually, and she sighs happily. He kisses her tenderly and smiles with his eyes. "Have you any regrets, my love?"
Newt sounds apprehensive, despite his relaxed expression, so Tina appears to give the matter serious thought. He rests his cheek on her chest when holding his head up becomes too much work, and she strokes his hair gently as she answers.
"No, Newt. None at all."
Sunrise at sea is almost heartbreakingly beautiful.
Tina tangles their fingers together with a content sigh. She's bundled in his coat against the sharp sea breeze and leaning into his chest. Newt's arm comes around her with a happy sound to press kisses into her temple and behind her ear.
"Did I hurt you?" He asks eventually, green eyes fixed on the horizon, and Tina presses her lips to the shelf of his jaw.
"Not at all," she sighs happily, and he ducks his head to kiss her small mouth.
"I love you, Tina." He says it without fanfare, as though he were commenting on the weather or the state of one of his creatures. This doesn't bother Tina; his hands and body have always, always been adept at speaking her language.
"I know. And I love you too, Newt." She kisses the corner of his mouth, and his eyes smile down at her.
"How wonderfully convenient." He sounds smug and hopeful, so Tina kisses him playfully one last time before turning back toward the sunrise. He lays his chin on her shoulder and pulls her close, and they wear matching smiles when the first ray of golden sunlight spills across the deck.