This story was originally published on November 4th, 2017 and is being uploaded here for the sake of thoroughness.
Warning for smut. Also, this is a continuation of my ficlet "A Rose on Shore," denoted through the italicized beginning, though you don't have to read that first for this to make sense.
(He comes and goes, and months turn to years. Inevitably, the time comes when she has to tell him that she's the one who plans to leave. They spend the week circling each other, both of them ready to engage in a different sort of battle but neither willing to shatter their fragile peace.
On their final night together, as she listens to his breathing from the other bed, neither of them sleeping—she makes her move.
"If you love me, then love me," she breathes into his skin as she joins him, and he does.)
The curtains flutter in the late August breeze, thunder rumbling in the distance as Tina listens to his breathing from across the room.
In, then out. Slow, as if Newt's measuring his respiration, using it as a marker against the inexorable crawl of time. A shallow inhale, a beat of silence, then a slow, shaky exhale. Over and over, the sound filling her ears until another replaces it: the creak of her teeth grinding hopelessly against one another.
Newt's breathing stops. There's a humid rustle of sheets, the ghostly outline of a freckled forearm slinging over his brow, and a gusty sigh. Tina watches him in the dark, tracing the outline of his profile until he turns to look at her from across the distance between them.
Her nightgown sticks to her skin, her shoulders and the small of her back clammy with the combination of unrelenting humidity and sweat. Tina throws off her light sheet with a growl, watching him watch her carefully, before stalking over to the window. Thunder grumbles in the distance when she sticks her head out to take deep breaths of slightly cooler air, using it to soothe her prickling skin and the yearning in her heart, until a hand lands tentatively on her shoulder.
"Tina?" Newt asks in a low, worried voice.
His palm burns hotter than the stifling air of the bedroom. Tina does her best to ignore it while meeting his eyes, which are startlingly close to her own. Surprisingly, he doesn't flinch away from her level gaze. Instead, he blinks while tilting his head, the question clear.
"I'm sorry," she bites out. "It's the heat, it's killing me." Tina shrugs her shoulders miserably, displacing his hand. It hovers uncertainly when she goes on. "My nightgown is sticking to me and I itch all over. Mercy Lewis, I hate summertime in New York!"
Newt stares past her. Sweat trickles down the nape of her neck as she matches his frown with one of her own. The curtains lift with another blessedly cool gust of air, a volley of thunder sounding from much closer as they close their eyes and lean into the temporary reprieve.
His hand settles on her shoulder once more. They both pretend not to notice.
"You should have my bed," he says after a long beat of silence. "It's closer to the window, so you'll get more of the breeze." He meets her eyes. "Please, Tina. I insist."
A flicker of lightning paints his face in purple and blue, throwing his freckles into stark relief. Her breath catches in her throat, the retinue of thunder seeming to echo throughout her chest. She thinks of her slow admission of days earlier, when she'd informed him of her intentions to leave for the European front. She recalls the way he'd closed off afterward, wishing her the best of luck in clipped tones before maintaining a careful distance between them.
(She remembers what he'd told her about his own wartime experience during the many late-nights spent lingering over tea when he couldn't sleep for nightmares, and the tears shed in remembrance.)
Sudden understanding fills her, a lucky flash of lightning-quick insight that illuminates the full and detailed topography of his heart.
"Do you love me?" Tina blurts.
Newt's fingers tighten convulsively around her shoulder before retracting with a hastily mumbled apology. She doesn't allow him to look away when he tries to shrink into himself, gently cupping his jaw to force his chin up. She meets his eyes, acknowledging how much this must cost him but determined to finally have it out. "Do you love me?" she repeats calmly.
He gulps, but he doesn't try to look away again. "I—" he begins, only to huff in frustration when his voice cracks. He fetches a deep breath before trying again. "I do," Newt says, and his voice is steady. "I do, Tina."
Grinning, she moves into his space, forcing him to take a step back. Her hand finds his, returning it to her shoulder. He squeezes gently before meeting her eyes. "Do you...feel the same? About me, I mean?"
Tina laughs, for what feels like the first time in years. Another step brings them to the edge of his bed, and he inhales sharply when they come to a jarring halt, her chest pressed against his. The light fabric of her nightgown rasps over his pajamas, the slight friction causing her nipples to tingle pleasantly.
"I do," she admits and voices a breathless laugh. "I have for a long time, Newt. I just didn't know how to tell you."
He looks at her as if she were a revelation. "Oh," he breathes. "Oh, Tina."
Her arms go around his neck on instinct when they meet somewhere in the middle, his lips sliding over hers in unmistakable possession until he gentles the kiss, gradually pulling away to nip at her mouth. "Tina," he says in a low, urgent voice. She silences him by reclaiming his mouth, flicking her tongue experimentally against his teeth until he grants her entrance, delighting in the ragged gasp that escapes when she traces the roof of his mouth before pulling back all at once.
"Show me," she sighs while skimming the edge of his jaw with her lips. He groans once, low and masculine, and the sound is enough to make her forget her nerves, the heat, even her own name. She realizes, with another dizzying flash of insight, that she would go to war just to hear him repeat it. "If you love me, then love me."
Newt's hands settle on her waist, fisting her nightgown before relaxing. She reaches for the thin straps on her shoulders and wastes no time pushing them down her arms, allowing her nightgown to fall away in a whisper of fabric. Newt stares at her with wide eyes, taking in the length of her body before sinking onto the edge of his bed.
He breathes her name reverently, one hand stroking short circles over her hip, the other notching into the small of her back. He leans in to press his lips just above her navel, causing her to gasp. Newt drinks in her face while slowly kissing his way over the soft curve of her belly to the delineation between her stomach and the juncture of her thighs, the crisp horizontal line that defines the boundaries of decency.
She meets his eyes, and he pulls his mouth away from her skin just long enough to speak. "Is this what you want?"
Her relieved sigh takes all her remaining doubt with it. "Yes. It is."
Tina burrows trembling fingers into the mop of his hair when he nods before moving lower, finding it damp and heavier than she expected. She fingers the coarse strands as he suckles red and purple marks beneath her navel, his mouth more humid than the air of the bedroom, his lips sending tendrils of expectant heat curling through her belly.
His hard hands slide around to her backside, gently cupping and kneading the lunar curve until he stands without warning. He urges her chin up to kiss her lingeringly while lightly dragging the tips of his fingers over her spine, causing her skin to hump into gooseflesh. Her nipples harden as he takes her hands to guide them to his collar.
"Help me with these?" he whispers, tipping her head back. She groans when slightly chapped lips hover over her pulse-point, pressing gently as she frees him from his nightclothes.
Newt casually shrugs out of the top half of his pajamas before kissing her. The contact is open-mouthed and heady as she touches his skin, tentatively at first but with growing confidence, tracing the outline of countless scars. He groans when she experimentally scratches her fingernails across his shoulders, only to shudder as she toys with the waistband of his pajama bottoms.
His hands slide along her front in retaliation, palming her breasts as his thumbs rasp across her nipples before drifting lower. Calloused fingers frame the damp curls at the juncture of her thighs before boldly slipping between them, causing him to gasp in surprise when he finds her already molten.
"I told you," Tina purrs as he brushes his mouth over the soft skin of her neck. She slips her hand into his pajamas, feeling the groan that works its way up and out of his throat, the triumphant curl of his lips as they press against her shoulder. "I want this. I want you ."
His only response is a crooked finger, delving between her slick folds. His teeth scrape her collarbone when she jerkily shoves his bottoms down, sucking her in gentle apology while stepping out of them. Tina widens her stance as he works her core, spreading her moisture around until the calloused pad of his finger circles the bud of her clit. He strokes her teasingly while dragging his mouth down her throat and chest to perch on the edge of the mattress.
Newt adjusts the torque of his hand to better focus his strokes, tipping his head back to watch her as he refines his touch. Tina gasps, a quiver working through her when his fingers hit at just the right angle. He murmurs a triumphantly breathy, "Found it," into her skin before pulling her closer. He turns his head to take a nipple into his mouth, sucking it deep as his tongue rasps over the peak before releasing her with a wet pop. Tina gasps when he does it again on the other side, bringing her hands to his shoulders as her knees tremble.
Tina watches him through bleary eyes, his fingers stroking her quivering core, his mouth occupied with teasing her breasts. She moans when he presses his face into her cleavage before leaning on him heavily as her entire center thrums in warning. Smiling slightly, he flicks her clit one last time before drawing his hands away, settling them on her hips to kiss her while using her downward pressure to shift them both.
Newt stretches over the mattress to pull her into his lap. They share a breathless moan when she circles his length, her knees bracketing the flange of his hips as she strokes and teases. His fingers are still slick with her arousal when they squeeze her thigh, his breathing deep and labored. She smirks when he looks at her through wide eyes until his head falls back with a groan, his throat working.
Slim but strong fingers wrap around her wrist without warning, halting her movements. She looks up into the face of a nymph, sweaty and disheveled and sharp with lust, pupils noticeably blown even in the dark of the room. He swallows and dampens his lips before speaking.
"Enough of that, please," Newt whispers hoarsely, "or this will be over before it's really begun."
Releasing him, Tina rolls forward to kiss the hard plane of his stomach, delighting in the muscle tone there. Newt props his upper half on one elbow while pulling her over him. He kisses her mouth sweetly as his hand slides down her body to trace the outline of her quim until she moans. He gasps sharply at the sound, and she uses the momentary lull to prop herself against his chest while rolling her hips suggestively.
"Have you done this before?" Tina asks, finding his eyes.
Newt gulps before nodding once, a short jerk of his chin. "I have," he confirms while surging upright. The move forces her back and down, causing her molten center to brush his length. He hisses while gathering her close, his hands supporting her from beneath as she settles lower over him. "Have you?"
Tina reaches down to hold him in place while sliding over his length, short twitches intended to tease and inflame. "I have," she groans, and kisses him. "But it's been a long time."
"Like this, then," he sighs against her mouth. She nods in agreement before firming her grip, guiding him to her entrance. Newt finds her eyes on a trembling exhale, one hand threading through the hair at the nape of her neck, the other sliding around her waist to support her. Tina groans deep in her chest as she sinks down, inch by slow inch until she's seated in his lap and stretched around him, her body trembling as he holds her close.
"Oh, Tina," Newt murmurs and extends his arm behind him. He supports them both as she adjusts to the feel of him, his hand tangling in her hair as she digs her nails into his skin and, emboldened by the gentle press of his lips over her jaw, begins to move.
They fall into a natural, easy rhythm, rocking together with the emphasis of gasps and moans until Tina kisses him. Their lips slide together hungrily enough to alter the tempo of their thrusts, causing her to plead his name until he angles his hips, in short, syncopated counterpoint. Sensing the power building in her, the promise of release, he presses his lips to her throat while working a hand between them.
"Tina," Newt whispers as he rolls her clit between his fingers. Tina gasps when her thighs begin to tremble, her eyes drifting closed. He nips her earlobe before tasting the tender skin behind it, breathing, "Please let me feel you," just in time to trigger her spasms, to feed her moans as her core contracts rhythmically, her entire body pulling into itself when she comes.
Newt groans as he stutters on the brink of his own release until she seals their mouths together, gasping against his lips when she jolts down onto him while clawing at his back. Tina breathes his name and he snaps his hips until the knot at his center dissolves, clutching at her, panting adoration into her skin.
Heavy breathing in the aftermath of passion spent and the sheets rustle when they collapse. They lay in a sweaty tangle, sprawled over the mattress with Tina's cheek resting on his stomach, Newt's arms wrapped loosely around her shoulders.
She waits until their breathing has calmed to lift her head, pressing her lips to his damp skin as he watches her through lazy eyes. Tina tastes the rime of salt coating him before pressing her ear to his chest, memorizing the thud of his heart and the steady whoosh of his breathing.
"What are you doing?" Newt asks her softly.
Tina can't help but smile at the bass-note of his voice through his sternum. She traces the scattering of freckles over his collarbone before answering.
"I'm listening," she says in a low voice, "so that I don't forget this. So I can remember it when I'm not here ." She kisses the patch of imperfections, lingering to soak in the texture of his skin before sighing shakily.
Newt exhales shakily while running his fingers through her tangled hair, causing her to lift her head. He meets her eyes, black on green, and blinks slowly before outlining her lips with the tip of his index finger. "I understand, Tina, because I'm doing exactly the same thing," he admits with a fleeting smile. He tugs her gently to guide her in for a kiss, cradling her jaw with a calloused hand until they sigh together, foreheads touching as they settle.
"Can I stay?" Tina asks nervously. He smiles, stroking her back before flicking his wand toward the window. A cool breeze swirls through the room, kissing their skin and causing them both to sigh in relief.
"Of course," Newt murmurs. He tugs the sheet over them both while holding her, and the distant thunder rivals the beatings of their hearts as they drift off to sleep, fingers laced intimately over his chest.