Newt feeds her sandwiches, right there on the workbench. He cleans it first, and they eat a meal of butter and meat on crusty bread. There's also the hard cheeses she favors, imported from England. For dessert, Newt produces lush red grapes with a flourish, and while Tina initially eats them with her own hands, by the end of the evening, slim fingers brush her lips to pop one in, occasionally stealing a kiss along the way. Tina makes a point to reciprocate, and before long they are doing far more kissing than eating.
"Hmm, wait," he eventually demurs, when his hands have found her waist and her fingers are lost in his hair. He squints at the clock. "We need to settle the creatures for the night. Will you help me? It won't take long. Then, I have something to show you."
Tina makes a show of appearing to give the matter a lot of thought, tilting her head and wrinkling her nose. "I dunno, Mr. Scamander," she says, biting back a smile. "It's getting late and I'm awfully tired." She waits until he opens his mouth before hurrying on. "Then again, if you promise to wash my back when I'm through with yours, I guess I can be persuaded."
Newt laughs and lifts his gaze from the floor. "Of course, Miss Goldstein." He eyes her happily while passing her a pail of feed. "Come on, you handle the creatures you're comfortable with, I'll settle the rest. Meet back here when you're finished." He brushes her nose with his lips, making her laugh.
Tina nods her agreement, and they part ways.
They rendezvous at the shed, as promised, and Newt transfigures some bath towels before joining their arms and leading her through the case. Tina gives him a confused look but Newt deftly avoids her gaze and leads her into the wand wood, past the trees with their weight of Bowtruckles and further still, to a shaded glen with slanting bars of golden, late-afternoon sunlight. He parts a trailing bit of lacy ivy and steps aside, gesturing for Tina to enter.
Tina isn't sure if it's a strath or a cove or a fairy-ring, but whatever it is, it's beautiful. A small, lichen-covered beach slopes down to a tranquil pool, fed by a small waterfall that gurgles over moss-covered rocks. Small plants grow on the edge and artificial sunlight glints off the clear water. She feels the various privacy spells protecting it as she steps closer, and when she turns to look at Newt, he is looking carefully away.
"I spent a long time in the desert," he explains. "I wanted to have an oasis of sorts, and once I invested the magic in making it a reality, I saw no reason to take it away. So I kept it, and it's traveled with me ever since." Newt raises his head and breaks into an amazingly sunny grin, green eyes crinkling. "Now you know it's here, and I expect it'll be quite difficult to keep you away."
Tina spreads her arms to encompass the entire space, wearing a disbelieving smile. "Newt, this is wonderful! Did you bring me here to swim? Or are we going to take a bath in the pool?"
Newt looks distinctly pleased, but instead of answering he removes his trousers and socks and steps out of his underwear. He turns his face toward the fake sun and breathes deeply, eyes closed in bliss. "So many layers," he murmurs, seemingly to himself. "It is not natural to live so shielded from nature."
Tina hears his words, but chooses to use this unguarded moment to observe him, a wandering magizoologist in his natural habitat. In the light of the case, with his form bared entirely and his eyes turned away, she can take the full measure of him. She can linger lovingly over the lean planes of his body, swathed in supple muscle. She can note the smattering of freckles that cover him entirely, including the curve of his rear. And the numberless, colorless scars, which she's felt and seen but never truly observed.
Newt turns toward her, smiling at her frank appraisal. The magnitude of his smile increases when Tina's eyes dip below his waist to that secret part of him, now soft against his thigh. "You're considering me," he murmurs in a voice as thick and warm as honey. He moves behind her and parts her hair to kiss the nape of her neck, slow and languid. "That's not entirely fair," he breathes into her ear. "Not when you're still wearing clothes."
"Make right this injustice, then," she sighs, deliciously distracted, and his mouth quirks into a smile as it trails over her throat. Newt hums and makes quick work of removing her blouse and trousers, adding them to the pile of his clothes. He lowers his head to trail damp, open-mouthed kisses over her shoulders and arms, dipping his tongue into the cleft of her clavicle and breathing against the hollow of her throat. Tina shivers as her skin pimples, and he rumbles happily before nipping her suprasternal notch.
"We came here to clean up," he reminds her, as his mouth unfurls against the skin covering her sternum. Tina makes a noncommittal sound while tracing senseless shapes into his back, and he discovers the swell of her breast, tracing its circumference with his tongue. Newt drags his lips over the curve and takes a nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking over the stiff peak. Tina's hands find his hair and dig in, nails scratching his scalp as she delights in the attention.
Newt treats the other breast similarly before pressing his cheek to her chest, breathing deeply. "We should do what we came here for," he apologizes. "But that doesn't mean we can't continue other things later." Tina makes a noncommittal sound at that but allows him to pull away.
He takes her hand and leads her into the water, pulling her to her waist. He drops a chaste kiss on her cheek before he turns and dives, disappearing beneath the surface with hardly a wave. His wet hair straggles into his eyes when he surfaces, and Newt rakes it aside impatiently before leaning in for a quick kiss. He moves away before it gains traction, however, tutting at her gently before turning and swimming to the edge of the pool with confident strokes.
Tina watches as he gathers a handful of leaves from the small plant on the edge of the water, and submerges them. Then, using them much like a cloth, he drags the bundle over his shoulders as luxurious bubbles spring forth. "They're soap plants," he says, lathering his arms and chest as he explains. "They're native to Italy and parts of Greece, and I cultivated some so I would never have to worry about hygiene while traveling. It's terribly inconvenient to run out of soap when you're weeks away from the closest village and unable to Apparate. Dangerous, too."
Tina digests this information, before opting to walk around the edge of the pool instead of swimming, nervous how her clumsy efforts would be received. She ducks beneath the water, and when she comes up Newt has moved on to his face and hair, eyes screwed shut as he scrubs. He dives once more, then climbs out to wash the lower half of his body, standing on the shore to cleanses every inch.
Tina watches him, shamelessly admiring the view, before carefully washing her own face and neck and hair. Newt wades back and gathers a fresh bunch of leaves, watching her in turn. He follows her when she strides onto the small beach to clean her lower half, and he washes her back with long, sure swipes. Tina returns the gesture, and she does a thorough job of it, leaving them both slick with bubbles. They join hands before re-entering the pool.
She is still avoiding the deeper middle so Newt cups his hands to sprinkle water over her back, a surprisingly evocative gesture. He touches her reverently when the soap is all washed away, her skin wet and incredibly smooth beneath his hands. Newt uses his touch to subtly guide her further into the pool, and when the water reaches her shoulders he swims in gentle circles around her before capturing her mouth in a floating kiss.
The gentle lapping of the waves rocks them where they are connected, mouths moving in concert as their hand's touch and glide and press. They tease each body part in turn, and before long they are pressed together urgently and interrupting their kiss to gasp or moan into overheated skin. Newt folds first, urging Tina toward the edge of the pool to where a small collection of stones pile in a roughly seat-like shape. He lifts her out of the water and deposits her on the lowest rock before slithering up her body for another heated kiss.
Tina gasps when his chest brushes her nipples before he takes one into his mouth. He nibbles and sucks and teases until she chokes, at which point he switches his attention to the other side. Newt rises from the water to kiss her again, all tongue and firm lips, before sinking down to press a kiss below her navel, tongue lapping at her wet skin. Tina inhales sharply at the sensation. He drags his mouth lower, trailing through her damp curls until he can press open-mouthed kisses on her mound.
Tina's hands fly down to knot with his while she sucks in a quick breath. Newt smirks and flicks his tongue out, eyes rolling up to meet hers. "May I?" he asks, careful to keep his voice pitched low. Tina gulps, wide-eyed, and he rests his cheek against her inner thigh in a soothing gesture. "It's all right. Sucking and licking are very natural, primal urges." He drops his eyes to take in the sight of dark curls and moisture that has nothing to do with water, and Tina watches his throat work. "I won't push you, but I would very much like to try, if I may."
Tina swallows, and her voice is unsteady when she answers him. She moves her hands to his hair, cradling the back of his head as he bobs against her. "You can try," she manages after a time. "If you hate it, stop. If I hate it, I'll tell you to stop. Is that alright?"
"Oh yes, Tina," Newt breathes. "That's perfect." He deposits one last damp kiss before allowing himself to sink until he's eye-level with her center. His hand trembles slightly as he reaches out to brush against her damp core, brushing through the sparse hair with two fingers. He uses those same fingers to gently part her outer lips, revealing the flowering complexities within. Newt's breath shakes with his sigh, and he drifts forward to place a series of small kisses there, feeling her heat against his mouth.
Tina goes very tense and very still against him, and when he pulls away she releases her breath in one loud gust. They share a look and she shakes her head, a little desperately. "No, no, 's good!" she hastens to reassure. He brings his lips back to her, only this time his mouth is open when he kisses her, and he adds a little flick of his tongue. She mewls at the contact, and he recognizes this as a good sound, an encouraging sound, so he does it again.
Tina tastes slightly sweet and slightly bitter, here, and she smells of the sea. Newt is intrigued, and he wonders absently if this part of her ebbs and flows like the tide, so he sets his mouth against her more firmly and commences a thorough investigation. He finds that licking her lower down, where he would typically fill her, makes her moan liquidly; further up, tongue firm against the crease of her slit, and she hisses. Higher still, and he encounters the hidden gem he knows relishes a calculated brush or stroke, so he focuses his attention there, brushing with the flat of his tongue before curling around it.
Tina dissolves into bliss above him, small cries leaving her throat as she slumps bonelessly. Newt finds that concentrating on her and keeping himself afloat requires too much thought, so he wraps his arms around her thighs as she tightens against him. Focus no longer divided, he closes his eyes and dedicates himself fully to the task, and soon she spits a curse and keens, bright and sharp, and her sex quivers lushly. Newt tightens his hold to contain the sudden bucking of her hips. Tina's short nails cut into his skin when she clenches and arches and shatters, fluttering against his mouth while her body draws bow-tight, his name spilling from her in adoring gasps.
Newt urges her through her climax and calms her with slow pulls of his tongue until Tina sighs deeply and slumps back. He dips his face into the water to clean it and strokes her legs as she sits up and measures him. She looks past his shoulders into the clear water, where his own arousal juts proudly from his body. She smiles, and it's a coy, heated thing. "We should take care of that," Tina says and uses her leverage to haul him in for a kiss.
It is slower and deeper than the kisses they shared earlier, a layering of passion and desire and love. Tina slips from the rocks to join him in the pool until her hands find him, grasp him, stroke him. Newt moans into her mouth as she works him expertly, and soon he's breaking away to kiss her shoulder and neck. "How do you want to do this?" she whispers. "Do you want me to use my hands? Do you want me to use my mouth, the way you just did on me? I'm not afraid to try." Her words sear his blood. "Or do you just want...me?"
Newt's teeth sink into her shoulder with a growl, and he has to collect himself before he can answer. "You," he manages, reduced to words of single syllables. "You. Always."
Tina nods. "Maybe next time," she murmurs and allows him to brush his fingers between her legs. He touches her until her hips loosen and she rolls against him with pleased sighs. Newt drinks from her mouth with helpless intensity, until they're both left gasping and wanting, and Tina breaks the kiss to take his hand.
She leads him to the edge of the pool, to a large, flat stone ringed in moss. She drapes her chest over the earth, supporting her weight on her well-formed arms, while her lower half bends and folds until her pert behind is in the air, the heart-shaped folds of her sex enticingly on display. Tina cranes her neck to look over her shoulder, a worried crease wrinkling her brow. "Will this work?" she asks, and her face smooths when Newt nods and makes a thoughtless noise of assent, a series of molten pulses working through him and stealing his breath.
Newt's mind reels at the sight before him, while his heart pounds a frantic tattoo against his ribs. He moves like a man in a dream when he positions himself behind her, one hand finding the swell of her derrière, the other dipping lower between her thighs. Tina moans encouragingly as he brushes over her springy curls, and she trembles when he dips two fingers in, testing her readiness. He finds her slick and ready and takes the time to suck his fingers clean before lining them up.
Another torrid surge washes over him and Newt clenches his jaw while he rides it out. When it passes, he rubs himself against her until he feels more in control. Tina makes an impatient sound and twitches against him. "Newt," she admonishes, and her obvious yearning allows him to shove aside his own hesitation. He makes an apologetic sound and pushes forward, filling her in one long, delicious stroke.
The angle and position are novel, and she is unbelievably hot and tight around him. Tina sighs happily as he fills her, and he keeps his hips still to flatten one hand on the small of her back, the other finding and tangling in hers. Tina shares a smoldering look from over her shoulder while bracing her free hand, and she twitches her hips, encouraging him to move. He finally does, drawing out and sinking back in, the sensations causing them both to shiver, and she sighs and relaxes her arm while his eyes drift close.
"Merlin, Tina," Newt gasps when they find their rhythm. Her hapless response sounds like agreement. He allows his head to fall back, eyes taking in the patchwork ceiling of his case as she mewls and vibrates beneath him. He tries desperately to keep the pull of her at arm's length. She's close to climax, he can feel that, but he's closer and he isn't sure he can contain his response long enough to see her through.
Newt growls and slows his pace, desperate to fend it off when the first tendril of release curls through him. When slowing doesn't work, he removes himself from her far enough to work a hand between them. He grasps the base of his shaft with two slim fingers and squeezes hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Tina makes a bereft sound and Newt closes his eyes. He brings his other hand around, to where she likes to be touched, and brushes against the knot hidden there until she trembles and sighs.
Newt feeds himself back into her when he's feeling in control again, and before long she's rolling her hips and crying out. He keeps his tempo unwavering where they are connected, and his fingers remain steady where they rub. Soon, Tina's releasing his hand in favor of using her arms to brace as she pushes against him, impaling herself in her bid for completion. She hisses and turns her head to catch his eye, and her gaze sears through him.
Newt firms his grip on her and increases the pace until he's snapping his hips against her like a whip. Tina chokes as his other hand works faster. She clamps down on the part of him sunk deep into her with a whine, bucking against him while her sex quivers and suckles his length, and he's gone—the thread restraining his own release frayed beyond repair. Newt comes in long, shuddering runs, pared to the bone with the magnitude of it and too senseless for coherency. His cry echoes through the case, forcing a momentary halt to the typical cacophony.
In the silence that follows, there is only the harsh rasp of their breathing.
Newt collapses gracelessly onto her, retaining just enough presence of mind to catch most of his own weight. He draws two shaky breaths before leaning to the side, falling onto his back and slinging his arms over his eyes. He breathes, deep and trembling and rough until he can remember who and where he is, and what he was doing. Then he lifts a languid hand to brush Tina's leg, urging her to lay beside him. He keeps his wide eyes trained on the ceiling and eventually her face drifts into view, half-dried hair fluffed around her head and her eyes soft and worried.
"Are you alright?" Tina asks, pushing an errant curl off his forehead. Newt isn't sure he can talk yet so he shows a thumbs-up gesture, and she brushes his fingers with hers. "We can't sleep here," she reminds him, and he nods weakly. "Just making sure you know. Will you be okay to move soon?"
Newt gives it serious thought before croaking, "Five minutes." Tina gives him an incredulous look and he shrugs one shoulder minutely. "Ten minutes?" he tries, and she appears mollified. She drapes herself across his chest and traces lines into his ribs and sides, raising goosebumps and effectively keeping him from falling asleep. She kisses the scruff of his jaw and he hums when she finds his mouth. The kiss is slow and lazy and content, but enough to temporarily rouse him.
Tina stands, seeming no worse for wear, and helps Newt unsteadily to his feet. A deep, pleasant ache settles into his muscles when he's upright, and he stumbles into his underwear while Tina puts on her blouse and slacks. She gathers the rest of their clothes but leaves the unused towels, leading him through the case to the shed, and up the tall, narrow steps.
Tina tucks him into their bed, and Newt asks if she's joining him with a bone-cracking yawn. She cards her fingers through his hair and smiles. "No," she says, watching his eyes drift slowly closed. "I still have some paperwork from earlier to go over, so I'll stay up and do that. Then I'm going to take an actual bath and come to bed."
Newt huffs gently and touches her wrist. "Don't work too hard," he mumbles, and she looks away, as she always does whenever he shows concern. He's asleep when her eyes return to his face, so Tina brushes her lips over his cheek and watches him settle deeper into the bed, sighing happily.
She stands to finish her work, turning at the door for one last loving look and thinks that the day hasn't been so terrible after all.