If there was one thing that encouraged Newton Geiszler to work out his lower body muscles, it was this. Red-faced and panting hard, he held up his entire weight as he perched, straddled in none other than Hermann Gottlieb's lap. The other scientist was shaking hard, bony hands clamped onto Newton's hips, thin fingers pushing delightfully against the flesh there. Newt was also thankful he had become such an expert and wriggling his skinny jeans down to his thighs while still kissing, not leaving the physicist any time to change his mind.
It took all of his self control not to instantly grasp at his aching erection the moment it was freed, but he knew better. Instead, he merely sighed out in pleasure against the man's lips once his arousal was exposed to the cool air of their Shatterdome apartment. Hermann fumbled weakly, but kissed back in that charmingly clumsy way that Newton just adored, responsive and nervous and everything that made the younger, eccentric man feel like a Rock Star.
Tilting back the desk chair slightly, the two kissed a little firmer. Newton was letting out sweet little keens, mewls, moans and whimpers into Hermann's mouth, while the other German man barely made a sound in reply. It didn't bother Newton too much; it only made what noises he did make feel like a hard-earned reward.
Hermann gasped when the kiss was suddenly broken without warning, lost for a moment, blinded by how swiftly the spry, lanky man darted from his lap. For a fraction of a second, he feared someone had somehow walked in; despite their shared quarters being locked. All thought suddenly left as he felt slick, wet heat wrap around his needy erection. He didn't even have the time to wonder when the fuck his pants had been open, and his boxer's front pushed aside to expose his arousal, because Newton ducked down on him until the end of his nose brushed against the zipper of Hermann's pants.
Shocked and overcome with sensation, the thinner scientist let out a pathetic little keen, which earned a thick, muffled moan from the man below. The vibrations from his voice made Hermann clap a hand down on the back of his head, curling his fingers tightly into Newt's messy hair. A sharp curse left the normally very collected man, snapping out in German and making the lips below purse around his cock.
Newton's neck turned and he looked up at his lab partner, his bright green eyes magnified by his thick glasses. Hermann's gaze just so happened to tilt downwards, and when they locked gazes, he seemed frozen. The paler, thinner man seated at his desk stared down at those animated, intensely mischievous eyes, and he watched as he began to bob his head up and down over his flushed erection. Another curse left him and made him swear, but he refused to look away. He watched with the rapt attention to detail only a mathematician could have, captivated by how his cock shimmered with saliva every time he pulled his lips up to kiss at the swollen head.
It didn't take long for the normally prudish man to see the smirk playing across those sinful lips, and for some reason it made him a fresh, new kind of emotion, a mixture of anger and arousal. He curled his fingers tighter into Newton's hair and pulled him up harshly, kissing him demandingly and hard.
Newton moaned loudly, almost too loudly for comfort, into the kiss and instantly slid back into his previous position, only this time he reached down between them, grasping his cock and angling it so it slid against the lubricious length of the other man. He kissed him back just as hard, demandingly shoving his tongue into Hermann's mouth, just to make sure he shared the taste, before he switched his grasp to wrap one hand around both of their heated lengths.
Using his thumb, Newt pushed the drenched heads of their arousals together, sliding a finger between them to get a firm grasp before he started to slowly grind his hips forward, drawing the hot, wet flesh together on hot-wet flesh. Hermann arched his back hard, breaking the kiss and letting out a strangled, quiet noise, his hips bucking up to return the friction. "You like that?" Newton whispered tensely, staring with rapt, almost addicted attention. Hermann found the question irksome, and looking into those magnified eyes was too much. He slid one hand up and pulled Newton's glasses off and kissed him again, holding them between two fingers as he wrapped both arms tightly around him, his free hand sliding flat against his back and under Newton's loose tie to light grasp the back of his neck, holding him in place as they kissed.
Amused by the demanding gesture, he decided that meant he did like it, and began undulating his hips smoothly, causing glorious friction between them. Newton broke the kiss to curse faintly, pressing his forehead against Hermann's, bracing himself with one arm against the arm of the chair. The pleasure was quickly becoming too much, especially when Gottlieb's hands once again wandered to his hips, pushing into the exposed flesh and drawing him forward.
The younger man hissed through clenched teeth, silently cursing himself for not grabbing any lubricant, because he very badly wanted to arch his back, balance his weight with his arms on the desk behind him, and watch Hermann's face as he rode him. Mnnnh, next time, he thought to himself, meeting another smooth thrust of the thinner man and flicking his gaze along what he could see.
Slightly amazed by how such a pale complexion could become so violently red, Newt actually gasped when his colleague leaned forward to kiss at his damp throat, sucking gently and breaking the contact just enough to pant a moment before returning. The motion sent a shiver up Newton's spine; Hermann never took this kind of lead in the few times e could convince him into something like that. I should really blow him more often, he mentally noted, tilting his head back with a pleased little croon.
"Nhh-" A quiet, slightly muffled noise caught his attention, and for a moment he was worried that there was some kind of distress in the man below. "Newton..."
"Fuck," Was all the biologist could formulate in reply, unable to even think straight from how fucking hot it was to hear his name whispered in abandon by the resigned man below. The curse was punctuated by a tight knot in his gut coming undone, and he came with a strangled cry, his hand clenching down on their erections as he ground hard and fast, not caring how his seed spilled messily over Hermann's sweater vest. He gasped out Hermann's name in a weak little mantra, a thrill jolting up from the base of his spine and pooling out over his ears when he felt, heard, saw Hermann reach his own climax. It was a gorgeous thing, how his brows knit and his mouth parted in soft pants, faintly whispering in German, and Newton could pick out his name among the babble, which only made him come harder.
Hermann was the first to return from the haze of orgasm, and he tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. Newton slumped, still holding most of his weight on his legs as he rested his cheek against Hermann's chest, eyes closed. For a few moments, he was very much determined to sleep like this, but the physicist below nudged him out of his sleepy haze.
"It's hot. Get off." Hermann muttered gruffly. Newton rolled his eyes, untangling himself and ungracefully sliding his rear off of him, bumping to the floor and lying back on the hard cement flooring without a care. He didn't even bother cleaning himself up or tucking away his softening cock, he just stretched out on the floor with a groan.
Hermann avoided looking at him, standing up and catching himself on the edge of the desk, his bad leg shaking. Newton watched, concerned, as his lab partner moved away from him with clear difficulty, struggling to pull off his clothes as he headed to the bathroom. "You don't have to bathe obsessively every time we do something like this," Newton snapped, quite stung this time. This was the usual procedure, but this time it felt a bit different than the few times they had done similar activities. Though this was the first time they'd actually both come together, or that there was any names being called out, or eye contact...
Rolling onto his front, Newton decided to follow him into the bathroom, prepared to ignore any and all objections. However, he was met with none, just Hermann, his upper half exposed and his hands on his belt to pull his pants down. He stopped for a moment, though, when Newton entered, a flicker of irritation creasing those taunt features, but no verbal objections came. Newt had snagged his glasses on the way in, and slipped them on as Hermann turned his back to him, eyes widening as everything came into clearer focus.
Thick white scars littered across Hermann's lower back, and in that instant he noticed that Gottlieb's bad leg didn't even have any weight on it, slightly bent at the knee and with balance just on the tips of his toes. Without saying a word, Newton stepped forward and wrapped both arms around his thin companion, under his arms and placing his hands flat against his diaphragm. He silently hissed as the unhealthily thin man's ribs made themselves known against the his palms, but he didn't back down.
"What are you doing? It's hot. Get off." Hermann muttered, gaze cast downward and hands shaking ever-so-slightly. "We're done. It's over. We... Finished," He muttered, in relation to their previous activities.
"I know." Newton muttered against the taller man's shoulder, kissing him there, then pressing his forehead against the blade. "It's called 'afterglow'. I know you weird asexual types don't enjoy it, but I like pretending you don't hate me afterward." Geiszler answered simply, pulling the narrow body closer to himself and trailing kisses across his shoulders. Hermann fell silent and went still, he even slightly leaned back into the shorter man when the kisses trailed up to the back and side of his neck, but he pretended it was just for balance.
Feeling his point was made, Newton's hands slid do hold Hermann's waist for a moment, before he finally stepped back and left the bathroom, even going so far as closing the door behind him. Hermann sat in silence, listening, and almost slumped when he heard Newton's own shower starting to run next door. Shoulders dropping, the scientist pulled the rest of his clothes off and climbed into the shower, basting it on hot.
He didn't have the courage to tell Newton that he wasn't bathing out of some perception of filth, but to soothe the aching in his bad leg. His cool fingers slid down and kneaded around the edge of the several-inches-deep gaping scar that wrapped around his upper thigh. Newton never saw the damage, and Gottlieb had every intention of keeping it that way. Somehow, though, the hurt he'd seen in the younger man's eyes, heard in his voice, when he pushed away and left, bothered him more than he ever would've expected.
Leaning against the wall with one arm, he pressed his forehead against his flesh and heave a great sigh; flinching as he heard the frustrated, emotion-fueled howl faintly through the wall, and he knew Newton was leaning against the shared wall. Pressing his hand flat against the tile, Hermann closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. Curling his fingers against the tile, he very quietly murmured a very regretful apology, voice smothered even to himself by the rushing water.
I'm sorry I can't be what you want or deserve.