Newt/Thomas Sangster One Shots (warning: smut)

One shot #22 ~ Chaos and the Calm

"What's that?" Thomas asked me as I lifted my shirt over my head, the radio playing in the background quietly.
"What's what?" I furrowed my brow at him, picking up a big shirt to wear to bed.
"That...mark, ok your rib cage - what is it?" He pointed to a penny-sized bruise on my lower left rib.
"Just a bruise," I shook my head.
"Where from?" He asked more seriously now, walking closer to inspect the marred yellowish-purple flesh.
"Uh...you, Tommy," I chuckled.
"What? I gave you that?" He asked in disbelief.
"Yeah, you did," I nodded, putting the bed shirt on over some underwear, and taking my hair out from underneath.

I glanced at him, and he looked somewhat upset.
"What is it?" I asked, curious.
"I hurt you?" He whispered.
"No, Thomas, I don't even remember getting it. I'm pretty sure you gave it to my by accident last time we...," I said, remembering that he gripped me so hard that his thumb left a bruise.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He said, looking almost guilty.
"Why would I? I don't know why you're so surprised, you can get pretty rough. Not like I'm complaining but-" I was cut off.
"What? I do? I didn't even realise," He shook his head, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to give you a bruise," he apologised, even though he didn't need to.
"Why are you apologising?" I laughed, brushing hair hair out of his eyes, my hand resting on his flushed cheek.
"I don't know...I feel bad," He admitted, "I want to be loving and gentle, not give you bruises,"
"I like you being a little rough," I reassured, "and anyway, just because you're a little rough with me doesn't mean it's not loving," I added.
"Has there ever been a time where I haven't been rough with you?" He asked, concerned.
"Not that I can remember—but I'm not complaining, as I said. I like it,"

"I...I want to try something," he said after a moment's pause.
"What is it?" I asked him, taking my hand of his cheek and resting it on the base of his neck.
"I want to try and be gentle," he started, "and let you be more in control,"
"You're sure?" I asked.
"Yeah. I want you to do what you want, and I'll let you." He promised.

I stood for a second, my eyes searching his - trying to figure out where this was coming from. As my other hand found its way to the other side of his neck, I began to wonder what I'd do. I hadn't been so in control before - I felt like a kid on Christmas Day.

I began kissing him, tilting my head to the right only slightly. His hands crept round my waist, resting there. He refrained from deepening it, trying to hand me as much control as he could muster. I grazed his lip with my tongue, pulling him in closer. A hand found its way into his hair, ruffling through it, whilst the other arm draped round his neck. I lifted the hem of his shirt slightly, then lifted it off completely.

I pushed forward a little toward the disordered bed, until he sat on it. I straddled him as the kiss got deeper. His hands were planted firmly on my waist, unmoving but tense, as if he were fighting his urges. I pulled back for just a second and lifted off my night shirt, tossing it to the side.

As we reconnected, my hips rolled forward in the hopes of releasing some of the pent up tension which had pooled in my abdomen. He moaned through his nose quietly as his fingers began to dig into the skin on my back. He was losing himself.

I put my hands behind me and rested them on his, lifting his fingertips slightly to remind him of our agreement. He released his grip after I moved my arms back around his neck.

He crawled backward onto the bed, I pushed him down as my fingertips delighted at the soft contours of his chest. I was surprised he was able to hand control over for so long, I could feel all the tension he was holding in his hands.

I rolled my hips down to his again, his met mine almost instinctively. He rubbed against my inner thigh, begging for more. I wasn't giving it to him - not yet.