maskormenacelogs | [closed] the affliction of the feeling leaves me wanting more

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[closed] the affliction of the feeling leaves me wanting more

WHO: Hermann Gottlieb, Newton Geiszler
WHERE: Their lab at Starktech, their apartment in De Chima
WHEN: May 10th
WHAT: Newt has a new toy. He's going to use it.
WARNINGS: NSFW ~~Power suppression. Tattooing. Yelling, feels, maybe sexy-times? I honestly don't know with these two--they can make a mountain out of a molehill and lbr we let them.~~

It had been three weeks since the pair had stirred up a small discussion in Hermann's post with their failed-anon request for a power suppressor and now, with two such devices in hand, Newt hoped the fuss was worth it. Oh, it would be worth it. Granted, yes, he DID want them for the sake of not being a walking bio-hazard should anything remotely dangerous happen, but the real motivation? Not nearly so altruistic.

Not nearly so altruistic and he planned to never EVER tell anyone else exactly why. (It was no one else's business anyway, right?)

All that fuss for a power suppressor just to get a tattoo? Just to make sure his boyfriend didn't bite his lip too hard or treat him too roughly and end up in the hospital (or worse)?

Hell, even Newt could hold his tongue and not tell their teenage tech supplier that the new bracelet was more about getting jiggy with Hermann than protecting the masses. It didn't matter anyway. It WOULD protect people from Newt's powers should something go wrong, but the most important thing was, it would protect Hermann and Liebling on a day-to-day basis and let Newt get what was probably the most grossly sentimental tattoo of his entire lifetime.

All in all, it was totally worth it, regardless of what other people thought.

Still, despite Hiro's assurances that his power suppressor was more than adequate, Newt wasn't taking chances. He spent the better part of the afternoon running experiments:

A slice across a finger.
Suppressor ON: red blood gushed from his vein. Toxicity level: 0
Suppressor OFF: blue blood mingling with the already expelled red. Toxicity level: back to dangerous. Healing resumed, and the tissue had grown back over the cut in minutes. A quick wash, and he was back to safety.

In the reverse, just to make sure he didn't poison himself
Suppressor OFF: blue blood. He let himself heal, cleaned the blood off, turned back on the suppressor, then took a small dab of the blue blood and put it on the surface of his skin.
Suppressor ON: sample remained toxic and when placed on Newt's skin, the effect was a less potent version of the usual power. So, he was still somewhat immune, but not entirely. Turning back off the suppressor saved him from needing to use an antidote on himself.

...Good to know.

The only downside--and let's be real, it was a pretty huge "con" amid the long list of "pros"--was losing the Drift.

The silence in his mind was almost deafeningly lonely and the strong and aching longing, no longer accented by the Drift's reach for his other half, was entirely Newt's own.

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Hermann expected quiet.

The Drift was quiet when one of them was asleep. The occasional passing impressions of images and feelings during dreams, but otherwise mild and contained. He'd expected it would be more or less the same, but in reality, this was closer to the week and a half he'd spent mentally severed from Newton, constantly reaching for him and only grasping dead air.

Fortunately, having a suppressor of his own prevented that particular level of desperation, but the silence, the utter silence of his own mind astounded him and it was almost worse.

For nine months now, he'd been half of an active drift. Near-constant mental connection and feedback transmitted back and forth, and now there was only silence and the echoing emptiness of his own thoughts; things he used to relish in for the focus and clarity that accompanied them. Newton was on the other side of the lab, well within visual range, but the line dividing them may as well have been an entire ocean.

Uncertainty - yet another expected outcome.

Was their relationship a byproduct of the Drift? No, logic was quick to inject, but they'd certainly relied on it as a communication crutch. Would their familiarity now be enough to keep them balanced? Or would they resort back to their volatile behavior in the wake of any miscommunications?

In theory, it would be good for them to iron out, to operate as separate units within the context of a relationship so that the longevity of that relationship could be effectively measured. Hermann was prepared to propose as soon as the ring was finished if they managed to survive Newton's recovery without threatening a break up. It would be the final proof he needed-- but only if they made it.

Needless to say, work was a wash.

He tinkered, optimized bits of code, scratched notes, and watched Newton as often as he could manage without outright staring. He didn't feel Newton slice into his finger, a relief as much as it was concerning. Between all of that and the sudden need for physical closeness to compensate for mental isolation, he certainly wasn't accomplishing anything worthwhile today.

If they were drifting now, Newton would already be well aware of all of this, would have more than likely beaten him to the punch by now. It felt so strange to be speaking without any emotional preamble, a sort of steady indicator of the line of each other's thoughts, if not a direct lead in.

"We could leave off early today, once you've collected your results."

The familiar tell-tales that Hermann was going to speak were all there: the cessation of work and a soft, barely-there inhale just before he primly opened his mouth and yet... The voice at the other end of the lab surprised Newt. He was so used to that tingle of anticipation, that underlying thought of I'm going to say something that preceded actually doing so.

Newt looked up from his work. Hermann looked different, now that he wasn't in some ways an extension of Newt's thoughts. He was as he had been for so many years: a foreign body, a foreign mind, yet familiar and still so endlessly fascinating. And now there wasn't even a window, a hint, into Hermann's mind. They were as they had been before...as normal people were.

"Verdict is in: if it's blue, don't touch it. Otherwise, they work."

He slid his pen and notepad to a corner of the desk unoccupied by clutter. Leaning forward, arms against the desk, he grinned.

"So....what are you thinking?"

Hermann's lips curved, affection rolling through him in a way that was quick to remind him he'd need to actually express that more often, rather than rely on the drift to communicate it for him. The thought was a daunting one.

And while he hadn't doubted Hiro's work given the Drift was severed, it was still a relief to know that Newton's blood had returned to normal. He'd stepped around that long enough.

You know what I'm thinking, wasn't quite true, but they certainly weren't strangers anymore. Some things weren't going to change.

"Well we do have some time to make up for. Unless you've already scheduled your appointment?"

Talking across the room, across the line, brought back memories of their lab in Hong Kong and many a shouted conversation while working on their separate tasks--no matter the space between them, or the emotions, sometimes it felt like they were the only two people in the whole world.

Newt's smile broadened toothily. "You horn-dog. That was not what I meant, for the record. I was just asking." Sort of. Mostly. Alright, he was kind of baiting that response and they both knew it--they really knew each other too well even without the Drift, and he loved that. Newt loved the idea that someone understood and respected him and he understood and respected them on a deep (even if not complete) level. "But, no, I haven't scheduled the appointment yet--"

He pushed his palms against the desk and eased back his chair.

"So you wanna play hooky, Doctor?"

They'd only been discussing it for weeks. Adding spontaneous suggestions whenever either of them had to be a bit more careful in the bedroom.

Looking forward to it certainly, yes. Newton seemed to thrill in the idea of being thoroughly ravished, and why not? He'd fantasized of leaving marks on Newton's skin that wouldn't fully fade for weeks, and by then there would be half a dozen more.

And then of course, there was the matter of Newton's tattoo- a very permanent mark he was less certain of. But they could worry about that later.

Hermann glanced at the time, then reached for his cane and stood.

"I'm not working on anything with an immediate deadline and we certainly stay late often enough that I doubt Mr. Stark will take particular issue if we leave two and a half hours early."

Edited 2016-05-11 05:52 (UTC)

"Hooligan." He grabbed his jacket and tossed it on as he crossed the lab to Hermann's desk, straightening the collar so it looked appropriately cool. "You sure the Drift's not active? Sounds like I'm influencing you."

They'd been talking about this for weeks and now they were finally poised to do this. And while Newt was definitely excited, it WAS planned, and Newt was terrible with planned things; it was so much easier to act spontaneously. This felt kind of like that dinner they went to, Date #1, when they were sitting across the table from each other, unsure how to just communicate.

Or maybe that was just Newt. Probably just Newt.

So he resorted to what he did best: babbling.

"You know, this is going to be an interesting experiment. We've never ...done anything without the Drift. Like, we've never even tried to get each other interested, let alone actually had sex--I mean, even when we were aged down, we were still Drifting. It was kind of like having a cheat-sheet or training wheels, I guess. ...Though...actually," he added, a thought just occurring to him. "We might LAST longer without the Drift feedback compounding the experience."

Hermann flushed, glancing swiftly about the lab like he might turn to find a nearby person looking appropriately horrified.

"Newton! You do realize we are still at work." But he couldn't deny that the thought had occurred to him. Prolonged pleasure in contrast to a more intensive experience. It would be interesting to discover, with renewed patience on either end without the other's lust distracting from a more leisurely pace.

Hermann cleared his throat, standing straight and assured no one had heard. "You can speculate all you like once we're home."

Of course by then, Newton might not get the opportunity to say much at all.

"Pfft-What? You act like I don't say weird and vaguely indecent shit all the time. Where have you been for the last ten years? Nobody cares. The rats definitely don't. What're you going to do, file a complaint for sexual harassment if I speculate all the way out the door? Because I might. You know me and speculation; I've got to talk through the process. I'm sure our cab driver is going to LOVE this ride."

Was this conversation going to continue outside of the lab and all through Starktech? Probably not, at least not where some of the younger ears might hear. If he happened to consider in more detail on the elevator ride up to their apartment, however...well.

He sidled up and leaned on the desk, brows raised in a teasing challenge and lopsided grin kind of coy, cute, totally cool and meant to be more than a little frustrating. "Come on, Herm. I've got a brand new pair of roller skates, you've got a key, and all that. Let's take them for a test drive, hm?"

"There was nothing vague about those remarks, Newton," he growled, working not to be moved by the man's impish behavior- easier now that he couldn't feel the humor and tease tickling at the back of his brain.

God he hoped their taxi ride was mercifully quiet. Should probably check on the status of his car soon.

Newton absolutely wasn't endearing. He wasn't. Hermann favored him with a look of obvious disapproval.

"You're going to be like this the entire way home, aren't you?"

Newt was atrocious at feigning innocence, especially when met with that absolutely gorgeous look of disapproval. If Hermann wasn't genuinely annoyed--which Newt was banking on being the case--then he was especially scowly to try to avoid smiling. Which was the best, and fueled Newt's fire to be even worse. He pursed his lips and could not avoid his own smile as he shook his head no.

"Hermann, please." He closed the space between them and played at straightening the collar and lapels of Hermann's jacket with a kind of domestic sort of ease. "Give me some credit. I DO have some decorum and modesty." He pat his boyfriend's chest fondly, if a little patronizingly. "Don't worry, dude. I'll keep my foreplay purely above the waistline and totally PG." A wink. "Just for you."

Hermann raised skeptical eyebrows, Newton's claims at utter contrast with several years of firsthand experience. His clothing wasn't in desperate need of straightening, but no one else was around, and it's not as though he truly minded. After all, those same hands would be removing said articles of clothing in all likelihood.

It's your mouth I'm concerned about. It's a thought that actually implies far more than he'd intended, and Hermann's rather grateful for the fact it wasn't transmitted or he'd have to suffer through a number of lewd offers before they even made it out the door.

He cleared his throat again and gestured toward the doorway. "If you're finished, then. You are missing several months worth of marks I'd like to get started on as soon as possible."

"You make it sound like you're going to give me a lashing. I don't know if I should be turned on, or concerned."

His laugh was slightly breathy, and his hands trailed down the sleeves until his fingertips brushed Hermann's cuffs and then, taking Hermann's free hand, he threaded their fingers together. The power suppressor slid back down along his wrist with the movement and Newt looked down at the change in weight. A warm feeling blossomed in his heart, overwhelming the flirtatious mood of a moment earlier.

"Before--" He paused, shifted a little awkwardly, and now it was his turn to glance around and make sure they were alone. "Before we head home, before that's a thing we are doing, can I just say--I'm going to say one thing. Just. Hear me out," he raised his hand like he expected an interruption, or didn't expect one because Hermann was Hermann and not Newt, but wanted to stave one off anyway. "This needs to be said because it hasn't, not independent of the the Drift, really, and it deserves to be said, and while maybe this isn't the place or the time or the right vibe... I want to say it like this, before it's charged with something physical. And the lab is as good a place as any to do this--"

Hermann has the most gorgeous brown eyes. His mouth moved and he tried to get his voice to work...

"I love you." A nod, as if reaffirming it. "I love you, Hermann, and I just wanted you to hear that without the Drift, without the drama of the submarine, without sex or foreplay or the fanfare of saving the world, or anything else between us. Just those words."

And that was a heavy, though pleasant, interlude and now, after, he wasn't entirely sure what to say or do. He let out a breath, almost another laugh, smiled, and tugged Hermann's hand and stepped toward the door as had been the plan before emotion got the better of him. "Now, ok, yeah, back to your agenda."

Hermann stared, following with a stilted half-step forward then halting much like his mind had.

It shouldn't really be so astounding to hear, given they were both very well aware of that fact on either end. But the words themselves were still rare- as often they simply didn't feel necessary, and he was still floored by them every time. Perhaps because he knew just how difficult such an earnest confession was to make.

And there was a pressure to do that now, but the words felt forced and unnatural on his tongue, so he instead closed that other half step and went for a kiss instead. Breaking one of his own rules in the lab while he was at it, but physical expression had always been easier than verbal.

His heart ached for the drift, to communicate all the affection he could never adequately muster into words, and wondered if perhaps he would be the one failing this experiment. He'd shown Newton, so there should be no doubt, but still he worried.

Hermann parted from him on a wet breath and sincerely wished they were already home.

"I'll go with you," he said without quite meaning to. "When you- to your appointment, that is."

Edited 2016-05-13 07:57 (UTC)

He didn't need a reply, or he hadn't said the words expecting them returned here and now, but he was not about to object to what Hermann did offer in return. The kiss... Had they ever kissed without the Drift between them before? Never. It was so intimate in a way the Drift had never allowed with all its over-stimulation and over-awareness. Here was the pure, raw feel--Hermann's lips against his and the love and affection and desire were all Newt's own, not a shred of it augmented or mirrored by Hermann's. This was what it REALLY felt like to kiss the man you were in love with, without the frills of the Drift, just the connection of two passionate minds and bodies and--

Oh. Wow.

Surprise and joy sparkled in his eyes. "Really? You'd do that for me--"

And catching himself on the ironic echo of words said worlds away and months earlier, he stopped short and kissed Hermann again with a kind of giddy excitement. "Let's go home, right now, before I get too appreciative," he hurriedly whispered against his lips and then stepped back and offered his hand.

Hermann took his hand with a smile, and didn't bother dropping it when they left the lab. Practically the entire staff knew by now, and until just a minute ago, they hadn't so much as kissed inside the building. Things should remain professional at work, and hand-holding definitely tested that condition, but today would be an exception it seemed. He wanted the physical contact, a desire of his own that would have been in question before, now indisputable.

He was happy. More feelings he attributed more to Newton than himself, Hermann often suspected that his was bolstered by his partner's energy and while grateful for it, worried. But he was indeed happy- they both were- and now they were heading home early with anticipation brewing between them.

He squeezed Newton's fingers, mind already several steps ahead, but also one behind. "You'll need to call the cab then, unless you think you could manage a bus ride with proper conduct."

"I am the epitome of proper conduct, Dr. Gottlieb. You're the troublemaker." Newt adopted something of a posh accent and stopped at the end of the hall in front of the elevator, turning to step in closer to Hermann and, in a moment of self-restraint, did not wrap an arm around Hermann's waist as he wanted to do. Work, right, Hermann would probably appreciate behaving.

And not eyeing that maintenance closet.

Alright, maybe a cab was in order. He pulled out his phone, swinging their joined hands idly, and tapped the app, making the necessary arrangements with a couple button pushes before stepping into the elevator with Hermann when the doors dinged open.

He felt like such a teenager, giddy and excited and, okay, that was his normal state, but this was new, different, like starting to date Hermann all over again, like the letters--

Newt could not stop grinning.

"There's probably security cameras in here, huh…?"

The drift was silent, but even unable to read the man's thoughts, Newton was bright and full of energy. While he was no expert in reading body language, it was easy to see his partner was happy and some degree of devious.

Hermann jabbed the lobby floor with the butt of his cane. The doors closed and he glanced up, around the elevator interior.

"Yes Newton, there are security cameras." Not a particularly difficult line of thought to follow, really. He turned his amusement to Newton's grin, charmed by the consideration despite his general aversion to public displays.

"We'll be home soon enough. Do try to behave yourself."

"Do try to behave yourself, he says. I'll behave my way right into your pants. I'll behave SO well, you'll be begging for me by the time we get home, I'll be--"

Newt's mouth snapped shut as the elevator dinged and the doors opened to allow someone to join them. Glancing down at their joined hands, Newt then looked up at Hermann with a guilty (if rather Cheshire Cat) smile and tried to look nonchalant and (more importantly) keep his mouth shut. By some miracle, e succeeded in the latter and by the time the lobby doors opened, he was ready to burst with repressed energy.

Do NOT shout something and embarrass Hermann--Do NOT flag down Jo and try convey wordlessly and in gestures that you're getting some tonight--Do NOT snog Hermann in front of the nice receptionist--Do NOT...right, DO glare at the security guard because excuse you, MINE. He barely made it across the lobby without an incident and, as they stepped outside, he had to say SOMETHING or risk doing something that would have him sleeping on the couch for a year.

"Do we need to stop anywhere on the way home?"

It wasn't until they step outside that his grip on Newton's hand loosened a bit. Still embarrassed about the close call in the elevator and the dangerously explicit road those words were taking, he was a bit flushed, and that translated to a tighter grip as he worked to get that under control.

"Er, no," he said, clearing his throat and peering around for their cab. "It would be better to simply head home at this point, then venture out later if necessary." Usually he was all about efficiency, but their minds were very much elsewhere and Newton had looked ready to explode just from crossing the lobby.

"You do realize the glaring bit wasn't particularly necessary."

"Wha- Who glared? I didn't glare. Alright, if he could keep his eyes to himself, I wouldn't HAVE to glare, okay? If you want to be stared at, that's fine, but I don't want my boyfriend ogled so--Hey, I could have said something instead, ok? But I didn't. See? I exercised restraint. If he wants a hot-nerd, he's going to have to get one of his own. I called dibs."

The taxi pulled up in the driveway roundabout.

"Now you're sure?" he asked, leading them up to the car and yanking open the curbside door for Hermann to get in. "You're sure you have everything you want or need back at the apartment. Like, I know we just went shopping the other day, so we're not going to have another first-time issue, but you don't need anything?" The chance that meticulous Hermann would have forgotten something was unlikely, but Newt was trying to behave and talking about shopping (even loosely about sex toys and products) was a good way to keep himself from talking about other things.

Hermann settled into the cab, highly doubtful any longing stares were cast in his direction. But Newton had always been the jealous type and had a tendency toward exaggeration.

"No, I'm rather certain we're well-stocked. Now please get in the car, Newton." He made sure his limbs and cane were tucked in before the door shut, and gave the driver their address as Newton circled around.

"As it is, I'm not sure of your ability to handle a ten minute ride, let alone additional stops. ..Unless there's something you're interested in picking up."

"No, no, I'm good."

He scooted into the cab, sliding over until he was more or less in the middle of the back seat. His thigh brushed Hermann's pant-leg and his hand went to rest, without a second thought, just on one of Hermann's knees, just between them, in a not indecent but certainly fairly intimate gesture, his thumb rubbing gently at the crest of his knee.

The car started down the road and the cab driver wisely minded his own business.

Newt leaned over to whisper into Hermann's ear, nearly laughing before he even put the juvenile thought into words. "But for the record, I think I can handle a ten minute ride if you're offering one."

Color flooded into his face and Hermann gripped the hand on his knee like he thought it might go somewhere far more scandalous if he didn't keep it there.

"Newton!" he hissed, low and accompanied by a furtive glance toward their driver that was probably more telling than anything else. Now would be the time he'd communicate just how much trouble Newton would be in if he wasn't able to make it home without embarrassing himself, but without the drift, it was certainly more difficult to subtly convey.

Not to mention the image itself was hard to get rid of, considering it was a position they took up with some frequency. And while they're both optimistic about lasting longer, ten minutes of stimulation was asking a bit much.

He tightened his hold on Newton's fingers. "You are going to pay for that."

"That a promise? Because it better be a promise. I'm trying to make sure you're all hot and bothered before we get in the front door, okay, so please say you're going to repay me by making me pay for it."

The driver peered back at them through the rear-view mirror and then went back to trying and failing to ignore them. Newt pat Hermann's cheek with his free hand.

"You're, like, bright red, babe. Take a chill pill before you get a hernia from all this embarrassment." He eyed Hermann coyly and dropped back to more private, teasing tones. "Besides, I'm not going to sex you up in the back of a cab, as much as I know you'd like me to. We'll join the mile-high club first. Far classier. Much cooler."

Yes, and whose fault is that!?

Hermann leaned back with a hand covering his face, able to feel the throb of blood underneath while his ears positively burned. It wasn't fair that Newton could tease him to this degree and not feel any of this embarrassment for himself. He wasn't sure what was worse- Newton's blatant suggestion, or his quieter ones. Granted, those were vanishingly unlikely scenarios, but the thought of them was certainly enough.

It was a good minute or two before he regained control over his facial muscles and yet another to feel comfortable enough to drop his hand. He cleared his throat and settled for a glare.

"I promise there is a great deal of retribution in your very near future, wherein I fully intend to extract several apologies from you under duress."

Newt tried his damnedest to look contrite. But the grin was impossible to smother, even hiding it against Hermann's shoulder. God, he was so weak to a blushing Hermann, the way that pale skin lit up, hot to the touch, flushed pink to the tips of his ears--Newt kind of wanted to nibble on those ears. Ok, he really wanted to. And the whole hiding his smile thing wasn't working because he could smell the laundry detergent and Hermann's soap and the faintest hint of the warm smell of his skin and wanted to burrow into Hermann's layers of clothing and just--

We should have taken separate cabs, he thinks. This is torture.

"I could get down on my knees right here and make it up to you," he murmured, half into Hermann's jacket sleeve, just to push it further, to tease Hermann more and to give him more to punish Newt for later. He tried to move his hand from under Hermann's, just slide it up his leg a few inches. "Come on, Hermann. Let me show you how sorry I am."

Hermann's spine straightened against the back of the seat, mouth snapping closed. The ripple of desire shivered through his body in a hair-raising flash of hot-cold sensation. He swallowed and refused to let Newton's palm do more than shift in place, which was certainly telling enough in regards to intent.

It was terribly effective. He probably loved Newton best on his knees, head buried in his lap. Just the thought threatened to run him short of breath and oh yes, Newton had very much to answer for.

"I despise you."

At this rate, he wasn't certain that he wouldn't accost Newton in the elevator if they were unfortunate enough to have it to themselves. And of course, he didn't trust Newton not to try anything regardless.

But they were almost home. Surely..

"Oh god, I love being despised by you," he said, voice low, gaze hooded as he smirked up at Hermann's stern profile. "You have no idea how much of a turn-on it is. The way your mouth does that thing, that disgusted little prim pout..."

He nuzzled Hermann's shoulder, reaching his other arm over, turning in his seat, to rest his palm low on Hermann's stomach, just above where Newt knew his belt lay under the sweater vest.

"That's a very nice sense of propriety you have there, Hermann. It would be a shame if someone..." His hand attempted to brush downward. "...offended it."

Out of his peripheral, he could see the familiar blur of their apartment complex's driveway, the brightly-flowered hedges lining the curb. Almost home. How much further could he push Hermann, Newt wondered, before he snapped and did something back?

It was a testament to how well his body was conditioned to respond to Newton's touch that he very nearly leaned into it before he stopped himself. Which really only resulted in a slight jerking motion and the confiscation of Newton's other hand. Color still running high, Hermann tried somewhat ineffectively to glare down at Newton, mouth otherwise perfectly pinched into a sour expression.

He both loved and hated Newton's masochistic tendencies. It made him a delightfully responsive lover, if rather difficult to 'punish' effectively. Because Newton found some strange thrill in his varying states of irritation, which of course meant that he'd act up entirely for that reason at points. Now of course, it suited both of their purposes well, but it was hardly the place.

No matter..

Hermann drew Newton's wrists away from his person and leaned in, voice pitched very low as the car pulled into the driveway.

"I am going to enjoy tormenting you very much."

Newt inhaled slowly and closed his eyes, pressing his lips together as he indulged in the gorgeous tone of Hermann's voice, the tight press of slender fingers around his wrists, and just what that suggestion voiced meant. He didn't allow himself to open his eyes until the car stopped. With an equally measured exhale, Newt readjusted his glasses, shifted in his seat (skinny jeans were a mistake), and nodded.

He climbed out of the taxi a little awkwardly, all things considered, paid the fare, and then rounded the back of the car to come along curbside and collect Hermann.

Kissing him now would be a mistake--they might never make it up to their room with their dignity intact. That's why, as soon as the taxi pulled away, Newt did just that.

"Well I do hope that y-"

Hermann's pointed barb went unfinished, drawn instead against Newton's mouth and lost to the heated press of the man's lips. It was all he could do to keep up, and the urgency there threatened to break his resolve.

"N-Newton." He transferred his hand from where it'd naturally come to rest on the back of Newton's head to his shoulder, and forced a bit of distance between them. Something he probably wouldn't have managed if the drift had been active.

And much as he'd like to remain entirely smug about the state of Newton's jeans, they still had yet to navigate through public spaces until they reached their apartment.

Hermann licked his lips and swallowed. "Let's make it in the door first, because if I have to teleport one of us up there instead, I can't promise too much."

"Right." He nodded, not quite moving from where Hermann had pushed him back to. "Right. The door. I got this." Newt ran a hand through his hair, tugging it into disarray and trying not to pursue Hermann's tongue back into his mouth. "God, we're like a pair of horny teenagers, aren't we?" He laughed, a little rough around the edges of his voice, hand sliding down his face, across stubble and then to his collar to readjust it. "It's worse than the Dri--the you-know-what."

Which meant it was all Hermann--well, the both of them--but purely organic, purely mental and emotional and biological and not...not the Drift at all. Some of it was the newness of doing this without the Drift, and some of it was the promise of a little force and some power games, but it was still their attraction. Even if the Drift inspired them to stay together and pursue this further...it never ceased to be reassuring that they could just get it up for each other without the stimulation of the Drift.

Then again, Newt was pretty sure he'd had a science boner for Hermann since Day One.

"So, yeah, I guess we should--uh. Yeah. Come on before we get ourselves arrested for public indecency." He led the way, speeding up to open the lobby door, holding it for Hermann, anxious to get up to their apartment to the point of nearly corralling Hermann into the elevator. They had it blessedly to themselves and Newt positioned himself resolutely at the other side of the elevator, against the wall, opposite Hermann. Maybe if he stayed here, they'd make it upstairs alright. Hermann wouldn't incite anything, right?

Six floors. Six of them. Only six.

Hermann focused on the digital floor numbers above the elevator doors and tapped impatient fingers over the grip of his cane. He made it ten minutes, he could handle another two to get up to their floor and into their apartment proper. Even if he was all too aware of Newton's arousal and how easy it would be to step toward him and brush a hand over the front of his jeans in a very deliberate tease.

The doors could open anytime, he dutifully reminded himself. Imagine that bit of misfortune. Or maybe if he committed to snogging Newton against the elevator wall, any sensible person would have the decency to simply wait for the next one.

God, he was not that desperate. They really were like teenagers. How awful.

The doors finally opened on their floor, and Hermann reached back to pull on Newton's wrist, tugging him firmly out of the elevator and down the hallway, eyes already locked on the door he knew to be theirs.

Oh, what fun it would be to pin Newton against--

Keys.

Hermann fumbled with his, but his fingers did decide to cooperate after a moment, and he shoved the door open with a pointed look at Newton to precede him.

"Living or bedroom- choose one."

Every second was a painfully long wait and he didn't even need the Drift to guess what Hermann's mind was thinking, griping his cane like that, impatience written into his stance. Or maybe it was just what Newt wanted him to do, but regardless. They barely restrained themselves. It was less and less surprising to Newt that six months ago, they'd jumped each other barely fifteen minutes after their first kiss.

By the time Hermann had their door open, Newt had made up his mind on location even without the command. He tugged the keys free from the lock on his way in, threw them onto the coffee table in passing, where Liebling could play with them and Hermann could find them again, and shucked off his jacket en route. He turned at the start of the hallway to face Hermann and braced a hand against the wall, trying to undo the laces of his Converse shoes with the other without sitting.

"Bedroom, if you haven't guessed. Anyway, can't believe I made it without jumping you in the elevator," he said, running his mouth because he didn't know how NOT to. "I mean, I was halfway to hitting the emergency stop button, just to see what we could get away with before anyone came to get us out. Pretty sure at least one of us could have gotten off in that time--"

Hermann shut the door, locked it, and stepped out of his shoes. His jacket shrugged off and hung on their coat rack, he advanced on Newton with rather single-minded intent. He pulled on Newton's hair and pressed his height advantage, crowding him against the wall for a very thorough snogging that felt very much overdue.

The edge of urgency gradually tapered off, secure in the knowledge they were home, would brook no interruptions, or be subject to prying eyes. But of course that didn't mean he wasn't just as eager. His hand dropped between them, fingertips alighting around the shape of Newton's erection through his jeans. No real pressure, only a slight rubbing motion to draw attention toward the touch.

He released Newton's mouth for a smug smile.

"Oh yes," he rejoined lowly, with the same idle strokes. "You behaved for thirty seconds, as opposed to the entire ten minutes you spent being generally inappropriate in the back of the cab."

About fucking time, he thought, as Hermann's mouth finally crushed against his in a deep and urgent shared kiss. Newt's hands migrated their way under the back of the sweater-vest as his own back pressed against the chalkboard wall behind him, smearing against the seat of his pants a colorful city-scape with attacking Kaiju-sized Liebling that he'd drawn last week.

Newt practically whimpered, his hips pushing into the touch that Hermann refused to give enough of. Oh please. Oh please. Hermann was such a tease when he was pissed--or playing pissed, it really didn't matter which. He had a way of being vindictive that made Newt question his own sanity with how badly he enjoyed being the target. Glasses askew, his gaze followed the tilt of those lips into their smile and swallowed, eager and still so very hungry for more.

"Story of our lives, dude: Making a scene in the back of a cab." A small gasp that ended up being more of a clearing of his throat. "What're you going to do about it, huh?"

Hermann's smile split into something positively wicked.

His fingers trailed up to Newton's collar and deftly worked at undoing his tie. Sliding the fabric from around his neck, he nudged them in the direction of the bedroom door.

"Suffice to say, you owe me an apology and I intend to collect until I feel you've properly repented."

He circled around and set his cane aside for a moment in order to draw Newton's hands behind his back and tie his wrists together. Satisfied, Hermann settled on the foot of the bed and stripped down like he might on any other day and in no particular hurry. Only his body said differently, and he gestured Newton to the floor.

"I recall promise of you kneeling and expressing your remorse."

"Oho ho, is that how it is. Collect until I've repented, huh? Hope you can hold out that long."

He let himself get herded into the bedroom where he stood obediently, despite his words and general air of rebellion, and let Hermann do what he intended. Hermann had bound his wrists, but not gagged him or blindfolded him, which meant Newt was fully prepared to mouth-off and, oh yeah, definitely going to look.

How many times in the last six months had he seen Hermann strip? Innumerable. Well, not innumerable, and Hermann would have detested the mathematical hyperbole, but...many. A great many. Watching that slow reveal of that pale skin as Hermann untucked his shirttails and unbuttoned his top with nimble fingers (god, he loved Hermann's hands), precise and deliberate and frustrating--just like Hermann--and Newt was falling in love with him all over again. Why was he in turned-on by this gorgeous, nerdy pain-in-the-ass. He wanted him SO BAD and the damn skinny jeans were relentlessly tight.

"Seriously. SERiously. You finally get me non-toxic and this is what you go for." For all his remarks, however, Newt made no attempt to prevent his hands from being tied and, when Hermann was ready, he kneeled as commanded, smirking. "The greatest mathematical mind of our generation finally has his any-which-way with his boyfriend. And he demands a blow-job. Brilliant. I'd say I'm sorry," he said, leaning down to nudge Hermann's thighs wider apart with his cheek and chin. "But you know I'm not."

Hermann's smile faltered, attention drawn to the lips responsible for the warm breaths ghosting over his thighs. The flattery certainly helped Newton's case and it took some self-control not to lean forward and offer himself up.

"Y-yes, well I can achieve orgasm anytime I'd like, but without the drift, it won't trigger your own."

He swallowed, fingers digging into the edge of the mattress and the rest of his words came quick and a bit high, like he expected to lose them at a given moment. "..I will then be able to deal with you at my own leisure."

At his own leisure. Newt peered up at him over his glasses, pupils large, an enamored smile tugging at his lips. He raised his brows in a hopeful and surprised expression, as if Hermann managing to voice that plan was unexpected.

"Maybe I should take my time, too," he said with a wicked smile.

Newt, unlike Hermann, was not very good with delayed gratification--he wasted little time, shifting forward and sitting down on his heels, treating Hermann to the positively pornographic and rather ridiculous image him, tongue out and mouth open, licking up the length of his cock.

"Unless you'd like to take control?"

Fire followed in the wake of Newton's tongue. A sweet, burning pleasure that left him breathless and entirely transfixed on the man before him. He looked entirely too happy to be there and a chill crawled up his arms.

"You are.. positively sinful," he managed after a moment of thinking nothing else.

Hermann reached out tentative fingers to brush through Newton's hair and considered both options.

"Not this time. Perhaps that would be better with the drift active. For now, enjoy it while you can."

Oh yeah, and you're going to hell with me.

Grinning, he buried his face into Hermann's lap as Hermann stroked his hair. With the glasses on, it was slightly awkward, but he nuzzled his stubbled cheeks against Hermann before finally looking up.

"Oh, I intend to."

Eyes raised, he watched Hermann's face as he dragged his tongue over the head, then closed his lips over the top and sucked.

Hermann inhaled a sharp breath, hips twitching forward and shuddered through another wave of hot-cold lust as it spread from his thighs and crawled up his spine.

If he were the religious type, he'd be praying for his immortal soul right about then. Newton could be attributed to one of those vile succubi that seduced men and stole their life through their lips or some such. If any such claims held any water, then what on earth were they complaining about?

He could worship Newton for his proficiency in bed and in fact, planned to - at length - once this was over. Which oh, while it wouldn't be as quick as before, still wasn't likely to be particularly impressive. But really, what did any of that matter when he had Newton Geiszler's head in his lap? Mouth so exquisite his heels dug into the sides and his toes felt ready to curl.

"It's.. really.. quite unfair you're so good at this."

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[closed] the affliction of the feeling leaves me wanting more

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