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“What on Earth are you doing?” Hermann asks impatiently, looking down at Newt, whose head is between his thighs. Newt appears to be studying Hermann’s cock with a serious expression as if it were one of his Kaiju samples.
“Herms, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to fit all that in my mouth.” Newt says, poking the side of his shaft - which makes Hermann’s dick twitch, and that’s never not going to be amusing to Newt no matter how many times he does it. “I mean, you’re not really bigger than the reported average - but I’m pretty sure people lied in that, let’s be real - but still, six inches is a lot to put in your mouth, you know?”
“Number one, I recall that we agreed that you will not call me that. Number two, you do know you have no obligation to shove it all in your mouth, yes?” Hermann sighs, rolling his eyes. “And three - may I remind you that you asked me if you could do this. The only thing I really want you to do right now is to stop gawking at my genitals as if they’re some sort of alien species.”
Newt snickers, his hot breath hitting the sensitive skin of Hermann’s inner thigh. “‘Genitals’. Super sexy, Hermann. How will I ever contain myself?”
Hermann rolls his eyes and pretends that his face isn’t turning a blotchy shade of red.
“And besides – I like alien species.” Newt waggles his eyebrows and hears a sharp exhale from Hermann’s nose. He’ll count that as a laugh.
Newt isn’t exactly what many would call the “ideal bed partner” – he’s been far too chatty about his work while being fucked, managed to accidentally insult someone halfway through a handjob, and had fallen asleep without reciprocating sexual favors to his partner more times than he would like to admit. Given that his foot has taken permanent residence in his mouth, many past partners had determined that there isn’t exactly room for much else in there.
But in spite of this, he decided years ago that he wanted to have some part of Hermann in his mouth, and Hermann had been looking oddly wound up for the past week. Neither of them have time for dating these days, and even Hermann was showing that he craved some sort of stimulation. But Hermann understood the idea of being “married to his work” and was already well accustomed to Newt’s habits of saying the wrong things at the wrong time, and being an ass without really thinking about it.
Hence, the request and agreement. It was pretty brilliant, really.
Newt sighs and situates himself more comfortably between Hermann’s knees. His pants are tight around his thighs and he wonders if wearing different pants would have been better for this – these ones are a little tight when he’s in this position already. He rolls his neck in a circle once and shrugs backward. Hermann taps his finger on the wooden armrest impatiently as he watches.
Newt exhales deeply and wraps his hand around the base of Hermann’s cock. “Alright, I’m gonna do it now. Get ready to have your weird argyle socks knocked off, Hermann.”
Hermann grumbles something about how “argyle is a fine pattern, thank you very much, Dr. Geizsler” as Newt strokes his length slowly with one hand, using the other to hold onto the arm of the chair and steady himself.
But for some reason, every centimeter he moved his head forward made the thing look like it had started to get larger in size at a disturbing rate, and obviously dicks don’t do that, but it is pretty disconcerting – thinking of someone’s dick undergoing exponential growth, that is. His heart begins to race in anticipation – he’s suddenly not sure if this Hermann is going to fit, no matter how big Hermann says his mouth is. He closes his eyes in hopes that it’ll stop his mind from distorting everything in front of him, and opens his mouth to take the head of Hermann’s prick into it…
And misses, a bead of precome making a wet spot on his cheek.
Newt curses internally - is he really that nervous? He wants this, but why is it so weirdly difficult to make it happen? This shouldn’t be scary. This isn’t scary. How is it possible that he’s afraid of putting someone’s junk in his face? Newt’s face flushes in embarrassment, feeling his cheeks and ears burn.
“… Are you certain you still want to do this?” Hermann’s voice sounds skeptical.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course I am!” Newt laughs awkwardly, glancing upward at Hermann’s blushed but concerned face before darting his gaze away. “Uh, just new to it. Don’t worry, I’m all good!”
Hermann purses his lips together and nods. “If you say so, Newton.”
Newt takes in a deep breath, and breathes out yet again, mentally preparing himself. He’s not going to fuck it up this time, at least if he has a say in it. “Alright. Okay. Let’s do this. Take two.”
He steadies his hand around Hermann’s cock again, and decides to go slower as he leans in again. He keeps his eyes open just slightly, and presses his lips to the head hesitantly, softly. If it were on Hermann’s lips, Newt is pretty sure that it’d be considered chaste. A chaste kiss on the dick. Newt tries not to laugh at the thought.
But Hermann inhales sharply at the contact and Newt hears the slight creak of wood from either side of him – Hermann must be grabbing onto the chair tighter. Newt gives himself a mental high-five for that one. So far, so good, he thinks.
He starts to stroke Hermann at the base while pressing kisses more firmly to the head of Hermann’s cock, letting the wet inner part of his lip touch the skin, and relishing the sound of Hermann’s contented sigh. He can taste the precome he’d managed to smear across the tip after his first attempt. It’s nothing exactly surprising – it’s pretty much exactly what he had expected it to taste like, given its composition, but it’s… interesting. Interesting enough to make Newt want to taste it more fully.
He closes his lips just enough to cover the slit and starts to suck slowly, the taste coating on his tongue. Newt smiles a little when he hears Hermann stifle a groan behind his hand, which he hadn’t noticed had moved from the chair to his face at some point.
Newt lets his eyelids drop lower, opens his mouth wider, and take the entire tip past his lips. A low groan rises out of his throat at the new stretch of his jaw, and at the sound of Hermann’s breath suddenly hitching and starting to pump in and out of his chest more rapidly than before. He starts to suckle at the skin lightly and a small, strangled noise comes from above him, accompanied by a slight twitch of Hermann’s thighs. Newt tries rubbing his tongue around the head, and he can’t deny how much likes the way Hermann’s cock feels on his tongue and on the inside of his cheeks. He expected it to be kind of fun, but this feels far more exciting than he originally thought it would be.
Hermann sighs Newt’s name under his breath as he runs a hand through Newt’s hair, pushing it back. Newt feels his prick throb at the tender gesture, and he uses his free hand to try and pop open the button of his fly, but the position makes it nearly impossible with one hand. He sucks a little harder by accident in his frustration, but is rewarded by Hermann gasping and tugging at his hair. The corners of Newt’s mouth quirk upward in what would be a grin if his mouth wasn’t occupied at the moment. Newt prides himself on being a fast learner and he moves his mouth down further, keeping the same amount of suction and adding more licking into his technique.
Then Newt makes the mistake of opening his eyes, glancing upward at Hermann.
Hermann’s head is thrown back, but Newt can see that his thin lips are parted just slightly and his face and neck are flushed a deep rosy color in contrast to his usually pale skin, and Hermann’s chest is rising and falling quickly under those multiple layers of cotton and wool. Newt stops for a moment, letting Hermann’s prick rest heavily in his mouth as he stares at the sight above him. Beautiful. Hermann looks beautiful right now. He swallows thickly.
But suddenly beautiful Hermann is looking back down at him, his pupils wide under his heavy eyelids. Hermann’s lips twitch as if he were going to ask something, and Newt cuts him off by quickly pushing more of his length into his mouth as a distraction.
And fuck if that didn’t hurt.
Newt gags and Hermann squawks, tugging Newt away roughly by his hair and letting his spit-slick erection fall from Newt’s already sore lips. “Good god, don’t injure yourself!”
Even though tears are forming in the corners of Newt’s eyes, the pulling at his hair sends a jolt down through his spine and strike right in between his thighs and forces a weak groan from his mouth. Hermann loosens his grip on Newt’s hair and mumbles a sort of apology that Newt can’t really process as having individual words, but at least he can understand what Hermann probably meant by it.
“I-I’m fine, I’m fine…! Don’t worry about it, Hermann.” Newt coughs and waves one of his hands up at him. “A-And keep your hand there. ‘s good. Great, actually. You can keep doing that. I just got too, uh, ambitious - it’s all good. Please don't freak out?”
Hermann swallows, looking guilty for some reason entirely unknown to Newt. “You’re certain about that? We don’t need our only expert left on Kaijus getting injured from something so… utterly embarrassing as this. And involving myself.”
Newt wants to correct Hermann’s awkward pluralization of “Kaiju” and mention how that was almost sweet of him to say until he had gotten all self-centered again, but instead he wraps his lips around Hermann’s cock again, taking care not to choke himself this time. He hums an “mmhmm” that sends vibrations up Hermann’s spine and results in him tensing up, then relaxing more again. No more fuckups, Newt thinks to himself. He’s going to do this right this time.
The impromptu attempt at deepthroating had been painful, sure, but now Newt feels himself salivating more, making the motion of bobbing his head up and down the length he can comfortably reach far less difficult. Hermann’s hand returns to tugging at his hair when he pays extra attention to the underside of the head, right where it meets the shaft, and he can feel Hermann’s legs trembling after he moves his hand that had previously tried to wrestle with the button of his jeans to tug Hermann’s pants down far enough to start fondling his balls.
Hermann breathes out his name, now adding in a small half-whine of pleasure to the mix and in Newt’s esteemed opinion, it sounds awesome. He’s not going to let himself look up again, but he’s sure that Hermann probably looks even better than before and it makes his ears feel warm again.
Newt starts to feel spit dripping down to his chin and how swollen his lips had become, but he doesn’t want to stop. Each downward motion of his head forces a low groan from his throat and makes everything inside of him feel like it’s being coiled in tight - too tight, even. His breath is getting shorter, more frantic, and every sound that comes out of Hermann’s throat is like music. The fact that he’s the one making Hermann make these noises only makes it better.
He wants to take more of Hermann into his mouth, but curses his horrible gag reflex and opts for sucking and stroking Herman’s prick more quickly than before. Maybe if he practiced, he’d get better at it. Practicing sucking Hermann off. Being able to do this again. Being the only one who’ll do this with Hermann – the thought makes him whimper.
But Newt wants to be better at it right now, because he’s thinking of Hermann holding him still and fucking his face thoroughly. Newt wants it so badly. He wants to have Hermann squirming under his mouth, so desperate that he can’t hold back anymore and fucks his mouth hard, and Newt would let him. He’d watch Hermann’s face expressing some kind of blissed-out ecstasy that only Newt could give him. The thought makes Newt groan loudly and his hips desperately search for friction, but his cock only throbs painfully and shifts against rough denim.
Hermann’s hand tightens in Newt’s hair, and he bites his lip. “Newton, Christ, Newton…!”
Newt wants to go faster like how Hermann is urging him to, but he doesn’t know if he can. His neck is aching, his mouth is sloppy and wet, and he feels like his dick is hard enough to break his zipper open, but Hermann is so close and he wants to hear and feel and see and taste Hermann when he comes – he wants it so damn bad. He wants to be good at this.
He sucks harder, but Hermann hisses at him to be more gentle. Newt can’t process large strings of words at the moment, he’s still able to stop himself from being so rough and applying so much pressure. He wants to make Hermann scream, but not in the way that Hermann will hit him for; he’s going for screaming more in the “sex god” meaning of the word. He’s got time to figure out how to make it better – he’ll make sure Hermann knows that.
Hermann starts fisting at Newt’s hair more forcefully, and Newt lets out a filthy, deep moan when Hermann stops holding back and starts thrusting shallowly into Newt’s mouth, just shy of too far. In this position, his glasses are getting jostled off his face and it’s too good – it’s not exactly what he wished for, but it’s close enough and so good. He moves his hand away from cupping Hermann’s balls to rest on Hermann’s hip to feel them stutter forward ever so slightly, and it makes him feel dizzy. The tightening sensation in his groin gets unbearably intense and Newt comes in his jeans hard with short yelp, muffled by Hermann’s cock.
“Newton, oh, Newton, oh… oh, Newton, please…!” Hermann starts to ramble breathlessly as Newt continues sucking and licking at his cock even though he’s lightheaded. “I-I… I… Christ, Newton!”
Hermann comes half in Newt’s mouth and half on his chin with a jerk of his hips, moaning deeply and making Newt’s cock give a pathetic, short throb even after he had just come mere seconds ago.
Newt rests his head against Hermann’s thigh, breathing heavily. He feels the combination of spit and come drip from his slack mouth and off his chin. It falls onto his jeans, but he’s already made a disaster of them himself, so he can’t be bothered to care. He tries to match his breathing to Hermann’s which has already started to settle, but he feels too elated, too ecstatic and he doesn’t know why. His heart is thumping wildly in his chest and he feels Hermann’s hand loosen in his hair to stroke it gently.
“Are you alright, Newton?” Hermann asks, his voice shaky but obviously satisfied.
Newt looks up at him and can’t be bothered to care that he probably looks like a debauched mess rather than some kind of sex god, and a sheepish, pleasure-drunk grin starts tugging at the corners of his swollen lips.
It aches too much to smile as wide as he wants to.