Warming: more adult content in this chapter, of the full-blown-sex variety this time. Again, if this is not your thing, you can read down to the third line break and skip the rest without losing any real plot.
December 11, 1926
Newt is awakened by a musical burst of feminine laughter. It takes him a disorienting moment to realize that it doesn't come from his bedmate—couch-mate?—but rather from the other side of the room.
He cracks open one eye, wincing when it's speared by weak sunlight, and takes a cautious look around. Queenie stands by the bedroom doors, wand held loosely between her fingers and gaze mock-stern as she takes them in.
"Well, it looks like somebody had a good night!" She exclaims. Newt feels heat flood his face.
"Um—er—" he says eloquently, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
Queenie slaps her hands over her mouth and giggles madly, doing an odd, happy little bounce where she stands. "Oh, Mr. Scamander," she gushes. "You've no idea how happy Teenie will be! She's been mooning over you for days. She may have even had a daydream or two." She winks saucily, and his mind goes back to how they'd defiled the couch last night.
Newt shakes his head briskly to drive that image away before turning to observe Tina. She's still deeply asleep, lips parted in gentle snores. He very slowly extricates his numb right arm from beneath her, careful not to disturb her rest, and discreetly checks to make sure his pajamas are fastened before sliding out from under the covers.
He winces at the pins and needles in his limb as he rubs feeling back into it, his mind inevitably returning to their pleasant activities of the previous evening. He watches Tina sleep, smiling slightly as her face flashes through his mind: blissed-out and satisfied, focused and hungry, delicate hands rubbing against his—
"Yech!" Queenie groans, closing her eyes. "It's bad enough you two forgot your privacy charms, I do not need to see my sister in that state!" She winces prettily while rubbing her temples. Newt hastily pushes all thoughts of Tina to the back of his mind.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles to her feet. "Next time, we'll make sure to use the proper precautions. Um, assuming there is a...next time." He finishes with a wheeze, aware of just how forward it sounds, but Queenie smiles gently and lets him off the hook.
His arm has regained feeling so he drops his hand and squints out the window before glancing at the clock. "It's quite early, Miss Goldstein. What are you doing awake?"
"Call me Queenie," she says with a fragrant wave, and Newt inclined his head in acknowledgment.
"Tina's alarm woke me up, actually," she explains while floating into the kitchen. "She's going back to work today so I got up early to make breakfast. She wasn't in her bed and I wondered where she was, but I wasn't expecting to find you two wrapped around each other."
She flashes a teasing smile but grows serious as she sets about preparing eggs and toast. "You two could be good together, Mr. Scamander. I know how you think about her. Promise me you'll do your best to make her happy."
Newt discovered early on that looking at Queenie wasn't nearly as difficult as looking at other people. Possibly because he has no interest in her outside of their strange, tentative friendship, or maybe because she reminds him so strongly of Jacob—someone else he'd rarely averted his eyes around. Either way, he finds himself most comfortable with watching her cheek and jaw as he fumbles around his own mind, trying to find the easiest way to voice his thoughts.
"I'll do my best," he finally settles on, knowing how weak and insufficient the words sound. Queenie can see the truth of the statement in his heart, however, and she beams.
"That's all I ask," she chirps as she turns back to the stove. "I can't have my Jacob but Tina...well, as long as she gets her Newt, I guess I'm happy."
Jacob. Jacob!
A nebulous, half-formed idea solidifies and lands with an almost audible thump in the fore of his mind, causing his companion to stiffen and whirl to face him. Queenie appears to be struggling against a radiant smile, unwilling to give into hope just yet but unable to refrain entirely.
Newt struggles valiantly to untangle the threads of his thoughts and push them forward, allowing her to view them. She gives in, a smile as bright and golden as sunshine spreading across her face.
"Mr. Scamander," she breathes. "He'd be able to get his bakery. Oh, it would make him so happy!"
She crosses the room and enfolds him in a floral embrace, as light as air against him. Newt gives her a token pat on the back and she beams at him when she turns away to skip back to the stove. He watches her bemusedly, warmth infusing his chest at her obvious joy, and wonders if this is what it feels like to be an older brother.
"I'd imagine so," she chirps, and he rolls his eyes gently. "You should go wake Tina up," she goes on, cracking eggs into a skillet. "I think she'd rather see you first thing. Be sure and give her a sound one, smack on the kisser!"
Newt chooses not to dignify that with a response, ambling instead into the living room. Nervously, he ensures his bedclothes are smooth and runs a distracted hand through his hair in a useless attempt at taming it. He perches gingerly on the edge of the couch to take her hand, rubbing the calloused pad of his thumb over her smooth skin. "Tina," he croons. "Tina, love, it's time to get up."
Tina makes a soft sound in her sleep and shifts, her hand tightening around his. Newt squeezes where they are connected before brushing a knuckle over her cheek. "Come on, Tina." He finds he can't use his normal tone of voice, instead gentling it to something he'd use with a sick or injured creature. "Wake up. You return to work today."
Tina comes awake all at once, eyes blinking open and honing on him with startling focus. "Newt?" she asks, squinting in confusion before sitting up and looking around. She glances at the clock, at him, and down at herself before returning her eyes to him. "Um, last night...that wasn't a dream, was it?"
"No, it wasn't!" Queenie calls breezily from the kitchen. Newt tosses her an annoyed glare over his shoulder. Bugger out of the conversation, he thinks at her, only half-joking. She snorts laughter into the toast she's buttering.
"It was not," he says much more calmly while turning back to Tina. She swallows and looks at his fingers, which are holding hers warmly, before covering the hand pressed to her cheek with her own.
"Good," she says emphatically, and leans forward to kiss him.
It's slower and softer than many of the kisses shared the previous evening, but no less passionate. He sighs when they eventually part, before leaning in to place a line of small nibbles along her cheek. "My, you are good at that," she breathes into his ear, and he feels the shiver that runs through her. Tina wraps her arms around his waist to tug him closer, and he melts into the embrace while inhaling the clean scent of her hair.
"That's enough of that," Queenie says eventually, sounding apologetic. "Tina, you've got work and just barely enough time to get ready. Mr. Scamander, I need your help with a few things today, if you don't mind. It's time to close the bank, you two."
Thoroughly chastised—though in the nicest way possible—Newt untangles himself from Tina and helps her up. She brushes her mouth over his cheek fleetingly before wandering toward the kitchen and sitting down to Queenie's sumptuous breakfast. She makes an irritated sound while glancing at the clock before bolting eggs and toast and washing it down with strong, black coffee.
Newt and Queenie eat at a more leisurely pace and wait until Tina's safely ensconced in the bathroom before turning to each other.
"This morning," Newt says urgently, and Queenie nods.
"We'll go and feel things out, see what's what. Tina and I have work tomorrow, so you can do it then, or you can drop it off tonight. We'll see after we snoop a bit!" She speaks rapidly out of the corner of her mouth and pastes on a smile when Tina returns to the apartment.
"No hot water," Tina growls as she slams the door behind her. "I don't know why that keeps happening, but I had to take a whores bath in the sink. I'm going to feel filthy all day." Newt focuses very hard on the fork in his hand while doing his utmost not to think about the activities that had led to her feeling so dirty. He suspects he does a bad job of it if the blush infusing Queenie's face is any indication.
Sorry, he thinks, and she waves a weak hand.
"Well, I have to go," Tina says after sending a hard look his way. Newt scrambles to his feet, very nearly slipping in his haste, and walks her to the door.
"When will you be home?" he asks while helping her into her jacket.
"I'm not sure," she replies, looking nervous. "It depends on a lot of things, but I'll try to be home early. I'd like to spend some time with you tonight. Talking and...other things..." She trails off and chews her lip. Newt leans forward to displace her teeth, nibbling her lip gently before kissing her soundly.
"Talking and 'other things' sounds wonderful to me," he reassures in a whisper as a slow smile spreads across his face. "Now, off you go. Mustn't be late on your first day back. Do try and stay out of trouble, Tina. I only have so many favors to call upon."
Tina laughs and kisses his forehead before hurrying down the steps. He hovers until he hears the front door close behind her; then he sighs and closes his eyes, leaning against the wood while trying to reign in the whirl of his thoughts.
"You got a lot goin' on up there, Mr. Scamander," Queenie says dryly. "Don't worry, she's just as happy and confused as you are. You two are made for each other."
She hums thoughtfully, and Newt hears the sounds of her getting dressed. He carefully keeps his eyes averted until she's finished.
"Now c'mon, let's go track down my Jacob."
Newt strides toward his case. "Allow me to feed my creatures. You can help, if you'd like. It'll go much faster that way. And please, call me Newt."
"Newt," she chirps, following him. "I can do that. Let's get these beasts fed so we can hit the road!"
Finding Jacob's factory is easier than either of them anticipate. They loiter outside the gates in hopes of catching a glimpse of him until a foreman drives them away.
"He's lucky I didn't hex his soup bone off!" Queenie seethes as she strides ahead, and Newt makes a careful mental note to never end up on the working end of her wand. She throws him a half-amused, half-frustrated look until he ventures a timid smile.
"It isn't entirely bad," he gentles. "We now know what shift Jacob works, and what time he will be relieved. I will come back later and drop the case. You won't be able to see him, but I'll let you take it from my mind if you'd like. If it wouldn't be a bother, I could use some help gathering the Occamy shells. Perhaps you'd accompany me when we return to the flat?"
"Apartment," she corrects airily and drops a teasing wink. It's enough to restore her good mood, however, and Newt flushes with relief before allowing her to lead him to a local café.
She treats him to a serviceable scone and over-steeped tea, and Newt carefully hands over the last of his American currency. "I've no use for this," he explains awkwardly, "and I won't be an undue burden on either of you. Please take it, with my thanks."
Queenie tucks the money into her coin purse without a word, still smiling softly at him. "You really are a good man, Newt Scamander," she tells him softly, and he isn't sure what to say to that so he doesn't say anything. Instead, he drinks his tea and tracks the flow of people around the establishment, absently chewing his scone before allowing her to lead him back to the brownstone.
Newt uses a Gemino spell to replicate his case, including the bad clasp. Queenie helps him fill it with silver occamy shells until the sides of the case groan, and Newt is forced to employ a few minor charms to help him heft it.
Returning to the factory is a calculated risk, but one he's willing to take. It breaks his heart a little to leave Queenie behind, but he meant what he said: he would record it all with his well-ordered mind and let her drink it from him later. He reflects fondly on how novel and bizarre it is, to be welcomed by not one woman but two, before Disapparating to the factory and disillusioning himself until the change-of-shift horn sounds.
In the end, it goes off better than he could have hoped. He times it well and stays out of sight until he's within feet of Jacob. Then he bumps into him in a calculated move and, quick as a flash, swaps the cases.
"So sorry—sorry!" He infuses his voice with as much of his so-called 'accent' as he's able to muster, hoping that it may jog some stray memory of Jacob's, before moving swiftly and purposefully through the crowd.
Newt ducks into a convenient alley and watches Jake struggle onward with his new, heavier load. It's all in Merlin's hands now, he thinks, but he can't suppress the grin that spreads across his face.
Newt shares the memory with Queenie, as promised, and she drinks it from his head slowly, relishing it like fine wine. He's careful to relegate his thoughts and feelings about Tina to the back of his head while she pokes around, and she sighs wetly when she finally releases him.
"He'll be fine now," she decides, and Newt debates sharing a theory with her. In the end, he can't stand to see her suffer, so he worries his hands and wonders how to broach the subject.
She feeds him soup heavy with vegetables, and Newt waits until the bowls are pushed away before giving her his full attention. "There may be a way for him to remember," he begins slowly. "The Swooping Evil venom—in my trials, it only worked on bad memories. Positive memories were sometimes tarnished, but they usually remained almost entirely intact."
He watches the hope dawning across her features and clears his throat roughly. "Jacob may yet be able to remember you, and us, if his memory were to be properly jogged. Say, by seeing an individual for whom he has a certain...affection."
Queenie crows with delight before flicking her wand to clean up their supper. "Oh, Newt!" she enthuses, hands clasped between her breasts. "That would be swell! Oh, I'll have to go visit his bakery for sure now!"
He nods, glad she understands his meaning, before allowing her to shoo him from the kitchen. He climbs into his case to tend to the creatures, spending extra time with the depressed erumpent and stroking the occamies, chasing the niffler and delousing the demiguise before returning to the apartment to nurse a glass of Dragon's Fire whiskey.
"You're sleeping in the bedroom tonight. I'll take the couch," Queenie murmurs after a time, and he raises his glass in a toast of thanks.
"Pour me one'a those, would ya?" She asks, so he does, and they sit and sip their drinks in companionable silence, Queenie working on a new and lovely dove gray dress while he flips through one of Tina's charms books. Eventually, the clock chimes nine and she glares at it while making an unhappy sound.
"I'm sorry, Newt," Queenie sighs. "I have to go in early tomorrow for some stupid meeting. I'm going to have to ask you to go into the bedroom so I can get my beauty sleep."
Newt shrugs and drains his glass before sending it to the sink. He fetches his bag and sneaks to the bathroom to perform his evening toilet while Queenie dresses the couch. When he returns, she's already in her nightclothes and the couch is prettily made with linens.
"You can lay down in Teenie's bed," she says with a giggle. "Whatever you do, don't do anything in mine. I don't need to be thinking about it."
Newt swallows as he feels the tip of his ears heat up. "We'll be careful, Queenie," he promises, and she grows serious.
"I know you will, honey," she says, giving him a gentle, one-armed hug. "You treat my sister right tonight, okay? Don't go giving her any trouble." She drops a soft kiss on his cheek before floating away. He watches until she's out of the room and the door is closed firmly behind her.
"Trouble. Right," Newt muses while tucking himself into Tina's bed. He searches her selection of books until he finds a likely candidate, and turns to the index in search of a very specific spell. Then he settles down to read, one part of his brain on high alert for any sign of his woman.
Newt's drowsy and nearly asleep when Tina materializes before him, looking slightly wild and very worried.
"I am so sorry," she bursts out in a whisper, reaching up to yank off her cloche hat. "We found Mr. Graves, and it was a mess while we got all that sorted out. I had to stay and help because we didn't have enough security."
Newt comes awake in an instant. "They found Graves? Is he well?"
Tina sighs and shrugs out of her jacket before pulling her blouse from her trousers. "No," she says finally, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. "I don't know what Grindelwald did to him but it wasn't pretty. He just babbled when we tried to talk to him. He was badly injured and delirious with pain."
She grimaces delicately and bends to pull off her brogues. Then she leans close to brush her mouth against his. "I'm beat. Gimme a few to clean up, then I'll come to bed."
He nods and watches her steal out of the room. Newt returns her book to its rightful spot and smooths the sheets while he waits, mind drifting along without any conscious oversight, diligently researched spell forgotten.
Tina returns after a short while and he can smell her soap. She hesitates for only a moment before pulling off her blouse and trousers, looking at him carefully, almost shyly as she stands in her foundation garments. "Um. Do you still want to do...that?"
Newt nods while giving her his softest smile. "Of course, Tina. If you're still willing, that is."
She swallows before loosening and peeling off her girdle and stockings and dropping her step-ins, reaching for her pajamas until Newt clears his throat gently. She glances at him and he shakes his head once, quickly. Tina narrows her eyes at her bed clothes before returning them to the wardrobe. Then she's crossing the room, moonstone skin glowing in the low light that shades her curves and angles, and Newt's throat goes dry.
Newt pulls her into his arms with a sigh to bury his face in her slightly rounded, sexy little belly, while Tina finds and pets the nape of his neck. Moving to his knees, he kisses a slow trail over her sternum. His hand molds to the curve of her breast, her nipple going instantly hard against his palm. He tweaks it while making a pleased sound in the back of his throat, causing her to sigh.
Newt drags his mouth further downward, covering her chest and stomach with kisses before dipping his tongue into the hollow of her navel. Crouching, he licks a broad strip over the top of her mound while Tina hisses and rakes her nails across his scalp.
Newt unfurls and stretches his neck to reclaim her mouth until she whimpers and he can feel the tremble in her thighs. He breaks away to pepper her face and jaw and chest with small, scratchy kisses. Sucking a dusty pink nipple into his mouth inspires her to keen and dig her fingernails into his shoulders.
Newt pays careful attention to her breathing as he worships her breasts, first one then the other. Her nipples are bright red and ravished when her breathing starts to hitch, so he crouches and nips at the crease of her thigh instead. "Tina," he asks, infusing his tone with sensuality. "Can I taste you?"
Tina voices a liquid moan and Newt shivers when the blood flow in his body suddenly redirects southward. Heat coils in his groin, hard and insistent, and he kisses her deeply enough to bruise before gentling it.
"Lie down," he whispers, supporting her as she props herself on the pillow. He covers her with himself, fully clothed against her nakedness, and groans at the heady feel of her lethal curves through his pajamas.
Tina grasps his top, her fingers sliding against his buttons without fanfare. He shrugs it off and she claims the skin on his chest, shoulders and back for her own. He presses his face into her hair as she tastes him experimentally until an eager tongue finds his flat nipple and his groan reverberates through them both. She does it again, until he trembles as lightning flares through him.
"Yours are sensitive, too," she muses, and her skin absorbs his chuckle. She presses her face into his textured neck and he gasps when she kisses and sucks the skin there, leaving faint love-bites behind. "Um, Newt? Before you...you know, will you let me..." She trails off to look purposefully downward, and he can't hide the small smile tugging on his lips.
"Of course, Tina," he breathes, and her hands find the waistband of his pajama bottoms. "Go ahead," he encourages softly when she hesitates.
His Tina draws a deep breath and yanks them down, eyes never leaving his face. Newt shimmies his hips to assist before leaning over and kicking them off. Then she's watching him, and he isn't sure if it's nerves or anticipation that stilts her hands and eyes.
"It's all right," he murmurs, pitching his voice low. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Tina. We can stop if you want."
She stares for another moment before shaking her head, sucking in a deep breath and pushing him gently away. Tina guides him into a crouch while she kneels before him, eyes slowly trailing down his body until they stop just below his navel. She closes her eyes briefly before dropping them, landing on the secret part of him with a gasp and a sigh.
Newt looks at himself critically, trying to see things from her perspective. It's an impressive enough sight, he supposes. He's not excessively large and he isn't disappointingly small. If he had to compare it to anything, it would be his hands: elegantly built, obviously capable and with a smattering of freckles throughout.
He watches as if in a dream when she raises a hand and boldly meets his gaze. Then she wraps her long, cool fingers around him, and he's forced to squeeze his eyes shut.
She strokes him experimentally and his head falls forward of its own accord, a long, ragged sigh escaping him. She does it again and a molten pulse works through him, originating in his core and radiating outward as she settles into a rhythm. He allows her explorations for only a few moments before fumbling to cover her hand with his own. "No more of that," he admonishes gently, "Or this will be over before it's properly begun."
Tina blinds him with her smile and lets him go. She arranges herself across the pillows to part her legs invitingly, tugging him over her by the wrists. Breathless and dazzled by her sultry gaze, he drops to lie between her thighs, hands hooking into the bend of her knee while he takes her in from below.
She is delicate down here, and Newt has to remind himself to breathe as he examines her lovingly. Three experimental fingers cover her entirely, and Newt presses his forehead into her leg while squeezing his eyes shut to control the primal urges that surge through him.
Easy, easy, he rebukes himself. He drags his eyes back to her center and takes in her swollen outer lips, plump and glistening, enticing him to touch and taste. Newt uses the tips of his fingers to part her and reveals the folds hidden within, pearly with fluid. Above them, swollen with arousal, the bud of her clit implores a roving finger or the exploratory sweep of his tongue.
Newt groans and bites his lip. He wants to bury his face in her quim and lick and ravage until she begs for him to stop. He longs to suckle her clit until she bucks and keens his name in a bid for release. Instead, he spreads her wider to explore the flower hidden within, the silky petals and narrow maw meant to accommodate something more than his tongue or finger.
She moans, and something darkly erotic curls around the base of his spine. He dips his mouth to her abruptly and draws his tongue over her, starting at the base of her slit and ending atop her tight bud. Beneath him, Tina trembles and moans and does not ask him to stop.
Her flavor is heady, salty and sweet and entirely Tina. He intensifies his explorations while her thighs come to moar on his shoulders, heels digging into his back as she moves against him. He welcomes the pressure of her strong legs because it keeps him grounded in the moment. He stiffens his tongue and jabs it into her, sampling the nectar within as she grinds unashamedly against his face.
Newt switches up his technique, curling his tongue around the nub of her clit until a primal roll takes her hips. He uses the press of his arms to contain and ride out her bucking, jaw loose as he moves with her before wrapping his lips around her bud and sucking while burying two fingers in her heat.
He can feel her drawing tight around him, so he flicks his tongue against her in quick, delicate strokes until she keens and shudders, yanking his hair. He presses harder, thrusts faster, and she pulses around his fingers and sobs his name when she comes.
Newt rides her out patiently, waiting for the tell-tale quivering to fade before resuming his slow laps. Warm, slightly sweet fluid trickles from deeper within and he licks it up with a happy groan, sampling the evidence of her release. He persists until she yanks his hair impatiently, thighs trembling against his cheeks.
"Newt," Tina gasps, voice thick. "Please."
He nips her inner thigh in parting before sitting up and making a show of sucking his fingers clean. She watches with avid eyes while his tongue flashes in the dark until she moans and clutches him with trembling legs. He voices a laugh, as rough as water through a throat of stones, and she makes another choked sound.
"What do you need, love?" he purrs, and she tugs his arms. He resists her pulls, determined to hear her say it.
"You," Tina finally breathes, frustration edging her words. "Newt. Newt, please."
"What part of me?" he asks, teasing without shame. Newt allows her to pull him over her until her nipples cut into his chest and their thighs bump together. He waits for her to say it, patiently watching her face.
Say it, and I am yours, he thinks fleetingly.
Tina growls her frustration, thighs squeezing his shanks when Newt drops his head to suck her neck. "I need you inside me," she finally manages on an exhale, and it isn't really the words he seeks but it's enough. Newt hums and releases her skin, the dark urge curled around his spine simultaneously expanding and contracting in a species of triumph at the confession.
Tina. My Tina.
"Do you want me to make you come again?" he asks plainly, and the sensuality in her answering moan makes his skin tingle. He clenches his teeth while measuring his breath, his hands fisting the sheets.
"Yes," she gasps. Newt pulls her beneath him until her legs wrap loosely around his waist and they are lined up. He presses his lips to her ear and hums when her hand guides his way. Tina hisses when he nudges her, a warmth of a different sort engulfing him as he presses his advantage, splaying open her outer petals to sink into the jungle heat hidden at the core of her being.
He moans when their centers meet and grinds to a halt, hips trembling with restrained potential. Tina wraps around him and crosses her legs over his back when her hands find a temporary home on his shoulders, her eyes heavy with lust.
Just like quicksand, he thinks dazedly as her heat seeps into his skin.
Tina rolls her hips beneath him, causing electricity to trickle down his spine. She runs her fingertips down his scarred back before sinking her fingernails in, leaving livid red marks. They moan in unison as pleasure/pain skitters across his nerves until Newt masters himself enough to move, withdrawing almost entirely before pushing back in. Tina's mouth falls open as she exhales her pleasure.
Newt rocks them together, hands flitting between her hair, her breast, her hip. Her nails rake over his skin, blunt teeth christening his chest and shoulders. She gives and he takes, groaning her name into her hair. He gives and she takes, holding him close and gasping his name in the dark. He surges into her deeply, drawing them both out, and her textured walls grip him tightly when he shivers, on the brink and losing control.
"You need to come," he manages through clenched teeth, and Tina gasps loudly. He stretches his neck to nip her wrist before motioning with his chin. "Help yourself," he begs, and her fingers drift between them to circle her clit. Newt watches through slitted eyes, hissing through his teeth as she works herself over. He can feel her fingers brushing where he thrusts into her, and his head falls forward as he surrenders entirely to hedonism.
Fucking her is like burying himself in warm, quivering velvet and he does it over and over, powerless to stop, each shuddering thrust urging him closer to the primitive edge. He squeezes his eyes shut when he feels Tina coil around him, arching into her release while moaning his name, quim pulsing unmercifully. Her fingers stop their rubbing to tangle into his hair, spreading her musty essence around as Newt's mouth latches onto her neck, biting hard enough to leave a lavish bruise before soothing it with the flat of his tongue.
Tina presses her hands into the small of his back, urging him on as the knot at the base of his spine dissolves in a molten flux. She is still fluttering around him spasmodically when he surges into her, hard enough for the headboard to count the beats. Tina whispers his name reverently at his fervor, gentle hands holding him together when he jitters apart.
Newt growls when his climax sweeps him, bone-hard and sharp and primal. He buries his face in her neck, smelling soap, sweat and her, and shudders to a halt, completely overcome.
Tina's fingers brush the length of his spine as she murmurs sweetly in his ear. Newt settles over her as carefully as he can manage, taking his weight on unsteady elbows and knees to kiss her. She accepts this until his trembling becomes unbearable and he withdraws from her with a low sound, friction setting his teeth on edge. Fluid trails after him, a combination of her honeyed essence and his seed, which he cleans with a mindless flick of his fingers.
Newt kisses her before laying back and flinging a freckled forearm over his eyes, blotting out any extraneous stimulation. Tina rolls to trace his chest and stomach with curious fingers, trailing goosebumps until he can think clearly, his thoughts gradually falling into their usual pattern.
He catches her wrist and kisses her palm, insecurity stealing into his chest. "How was that?" he asks, nervous of the answer but unwilling to let it go. Tina hums thoughtfully and takes his hand to thread their fingers, curious mouth finding an enticing scar on his chest to taste. He slowly relaxes under the gentle press of her tongue.
"Perfect," she declares, and he chooses to believe her. "I...Newt, I've never known anything like that before."
Newt raises his arm and cracks an eye open to watch as she ducks her head and blushes. He smooths a hand over her sex-rumpled hair while his thoughts flow like honey, mellow and golden. It takes a while to come up with a suitable reply
"That wasn't entirely me," he finally settles on. "You helped yourself."
Tina shakes her head. "Not really," she insists. "You did it all. You made me feel wanted." Her eyes skip away shyly while Newt reflects on this. He leans in to kiss her lazily, and she is smiling when he pulls away. "It was wonderful," she reassures, and her body is a warm and sated weight where she presses against him, eyes hazy in with afterglow.
"It was," he agrees. Her fingers draw lines between the freckles dotting his chest as Newt closes his eyes and allows his mind to drift serenely. "We should do that again," he mumbles, half asleep and not thinking, and Tina's laugh thrums through him and warms him from within.
"We should," she concurs, and he smiles and knows no more.
