mitsubishievo | (no subject)

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The day felt long, a strange staccato of events from waking up in the morning, but when he got back to the house finally, he was feeling alive. Vital. He knew Newt would be home by the time he got back, but he still called out when he stepped in the door.

The kittens came running, gangly limbs all over each other, and Kavinsky fed them as they sniffed his boots and made sure he was him. Satisfied, they settled into more important things than him, and he stepped over them to poke his head into the office.

He approached Newt from behind and draped over his shoulders, nuzzled into his ear.

"Hey sugar," he breathed. At least his voice was the same, unlike turning into a girl. "You miss me?"

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"Always," says Newt, but then he has the change to look up and actually look at Kavinsky. He raises his eyebrows, ignoring a sudden ruffle of arousal at the sight of him.

"Wow."

Kavinsky smiled at him, that tender one with just a little bit of edge that he did when he wasn't sure how something was going over. "Yeah? How's the jawline look? I can't believe Darrow fucked me with this haircut to wake up to, man, this is awful. I need to fix this."

"You look fine," says Newt, grinning, standing up from his desk and stepping in, curling his arms around Kavinsky's neck. "You look more than shucking fine. You're taller."

Kavinsky laughed, because he'd noticed that too. He'd had to adjust the seats in the Evo a bit to accommodate the change in height. He smiled and wrapped his arms around Newt's waist, holding him close, bent to kiss him softly.

"Little bit," he said, and smudged another kiss against him. "Also, like. Ten years older or something, I'm pretty sure? This is a serious trip."

"Does that make the fact that we're married kind of wrong?" says Newt, grinning, leaning into the circle of Kavinsky's arms, pressing up against him. He has to tilt his head back further than usual to kiss him.

Kavinsky grinned at Newt, a lazy thing against Newt's lips. He liked the way that Newt had to stretch up to him like this, the way his body flexed in his arms. "You sayin' I'm too old for you, sugar? Nah, nothin' wrong with being a little bit older. You can just call me daddy or something."

"Pervert," huffs Newt, rolling his eyes. "Surely calling people daddy is more your style than mine, shank? Unless that's what you're in the mood for."

Kavinsky found himself a little flush at the back of the neck, even with just that tease, that quick snark at his expense. The word sat in Newt's accent, and Kavinsky liked how it sounded.

He squeezed him gently and laughed. "Wow, I can't believe I'm being called out like this. Rude boy." He slapped Newt's ass playfully. "Respect your elders."

Newt grins at the slap; it doesn't really sting through his jeans and Kavinsky hasn't settled into anything, yet, he can tell. "I don't care what you look like," he points out. "You're about five minutes older than me."

"Sassy," Kavinsky breathed. He gripped Newt's ass with both hands and lifted him up, just a touch. Getting used to the height was taking a little bit, but with the couple extra inches, he'd gotten a little bit stronger too, he realized. He was pretty sure he could pick Newt straight up, if he wanted to.

No, instead, he wanted to hold him close and rock his hips against him, supporting him on his toes. He smudged his mouth against Newt's ear. "You're not even a little extra turned on, thinking about fuckin' an older guy, sugar?"

Kavinsky's hands urge him up onto his tiptoes and Newt leans forward into the kiss. "I'm a little bit shucking turned on thinking about fucking you. I don't care how old you are."

"Yeah, yeah, when aren't you into the idea of fucking me," Kavinsky teased tenderly. He kissed Newt, slow and a bit filthy, and squeezed his ass some more. "We'll get to that. I'm still trying to figure out if I want you to call me daddy when I bend you over or not."

"It's true," says Newt, grinning, squirming a little to press his hands into Kavinsky's hands. "I'll call you anything you want."

Kavinsky laughed softly and kissed Newt again, and then bullied him toward the day bed. He didn't often get in these moods, but when he did, he was happy to work out the tension with Newt. More than happy. He sighed against Newt's mouth, and then shoved him, gently, back onto the bed, his hands falling to his fly.

"God," he breathed, and grinned so hard he thought his face might be stuck. "God, I love you, sugar."

He can't really sprawl out on the day bed the way he would be able on the bed in their room, but he doesn't mind. He lets his knees fall apart as he looks up at Kavinsky.

"I love you too," he says.

Kavinsky looked at him, tilted like that, knees falling apart, and his heart surged in his chest. He opened his jeans and pulled his cock out, already half hard. Slowly, he stroked himself, and then knelt on the edge of the bed so he could smear the head of his cock against Newt's mouth.

Newt opens his mouth sweetly, his eyes tilted so that he can look up as he swipes his tongue over the head of Kavinsky's dick.

He grins. "You taste the same."

Kavinsky shivered at the sight of it, of Newt teasing like that. He took his hand off his cock and stroked his fingers into Newt's hair, holding but not urging him, not yet. "God, I'd hope so," he murmured, and laughed a little.

Newt ducks his head, sliding his lips down over Kavinsky's cock. He's not as good at this as Kavinsky, but he's definitely got better with practise and he enjoys it. He groans softly, the sound muffled by the press of Kavinsky against his tongue.

For a moment, a couple bobs of Newt's head, Kavinsky just relished the sight of it. His knees dug into the mattress and his fingers flexed against Newt's scalp, and then, slowly, he rocked his hips. He knew he couldn't fuck Newt's mouth, not the way that Newt would fuck his, but he couldn't quite still his hips. Not when Newt was slick and wet and making such pretty noises.

He appreciates the care that Kavinsky is taking with him just then. He bobs his head, sucking Kavinsky's cock and curling his fingers around what he can't get into his mouth.

"Fuck, sugar," he breathed. He loved how Newt had gotten more and more used to this; he didn't ask for it a lot, but he knew Newt was as happy to do this to him as he was to do it for Newt.

"You look so good, sugar." He let his accent slip a little, just a touch, and sighed. "So fucking good."

Newt can't imagine what he looks like; he can't picture it. If he thinks too much about it, he starts to get flustered, so he just lets himself get lost in the act, sucking Kavinsky's dick, humming around the length of him.

"Oh, shit, sugar," Kavinsky breathed. He rocked his hips just a touch harder, just to see how much Newt could take. He didn't want to get off like this, but it felt good. Really good. "That's it. That's it, just like that."

Kavinsky's cock nudges against his gag reflex and Newt has to pull away for a moment, keeping just the head in his mouth as his eyes water a little before he goes back to sucking.