Could you write another Greaser!Newt sequel? I labsolutely loved the last parts and I'd be happy to read anything you can come up with xD(And if you could make it a first time fic I would love you to pieces xD)
why.........certainly
somewhere in part of the greaser newt cinematic universe found, found here, here, here, and here. probably set after the first one but before the second? setup for this fic also partially inspired by a scene from this AU I recently wrote because it’s too cute to not use
rated 18+ 🌚 MOSTLY anyway
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“This is horrendously cliched of you, you know,” Hermann says.
Newton puts his father’s convertible in park and turns to him with what he clearly hopes is an innocent smile. Hermann does not fall for it: he knows that smile by now, and it’s rarely followed by anything innocent. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Newton says. Then he gives an exaggerated shiver. “Gee, it sure is cold out tonight, huh, Hermann? Need a sweater or something?”
“No,” Hermann says.
“My jacket?” Newton says. “Wanna borrow it?”
“No,” Hermann says.
Newton extends one arm and settles it around Hermann’s shoulders. “How about that? Nice and cozy?”
Hermann glares at him. It is, in fact, very cozy being tucked up that close to Newton, but he is not admitting that to Newton at any cost whatsoever, so he gives an exaggerated shiver of his own to make his point. He perhaps does it too well: Newton is startling and pulling his arm away at once, leaving Hermann feeling oddly disappointed and bereft. “I’m not trying to get fresh or anything,” he tells Hermann seriously, “I swear.”
“Then why, exactly,” Hermann says, “have you taken us here?”
Hermann was not born yesterday. He knows all the young couples in town drive up here to park among the secluded bit of trees for some alone time, and furthermore, that there are about three other cars there tonight with passengers clearly come for that express purpose. Then there is, of course, Newton’s recent behavior towards him, which has bordered on suspiciously sensual. Bold, even. Touching Hermann’s hair while they kiss; putting his hand on Hermann’s knee at the cinema; moving his mouth south of Hermann’s jaw, even, to nip tentatively at his neck before Hermann ultimately shoos him off.
He knows what Newton is hoping for tonight. He simply hasn’t decided if he wants to give it.
Newton’s face splits into a grin. “Okay, maybe I am a little bit. But only if you want. We could just see a movie instead.”
A movie--almost definitely some inane monster flick, where Hermann will get bored halfway through and Newton will insist on explaining half the pseudoscience to him, which will be almost as intolerable as the movie itself. Or...
Hermann undoes the top few buttons of his cardigan and bares his throat to Newton. “You may touch me,” he declares.
The sound Newton makes is halfway between a whimper and a groan; his eyes go straight to the newly-revealed bit of skin. “You mean it?” he says.
Yes, Hermann realizes, yes, he does. Newton is annoying, and obnoxious, and hardly what Hermann would term sweet, but he does have the tendency to make Hermann--very occasionally--smile. Like now. “Yes, Newton,” he says. “Only don’t make a mess of me above the collar. My father--Newton!”
In his haste to climb into Hermann’s lap, Newton knocks into the gear shift and almost sends them flying out of park. “Oops,” he says, divesting Hermann of the rest of his sweater. “How many layers are you wearing, man?”
“A n--normal amount. Newton, ah--” Newton’s teeth go to his neck. “I said--not above the collar.”
“Don’t be a square,” Newton mumbles into his skin. He kisses over the indentation his teeth left behind and shifts in Hermann’s lap. For his small stature, Newton has quite a bit of mass, and he’s putting a strain on Hermann’s knee that isn’t exactly comfortable. Hermann hisses in pain as Newton continues to nip at him.
“Backseat,” he says. “Newton--leg--”
“Aw, fuck,” Newton says. “Right, sorry, sorry, let me--”
They do a bit of an awkward shuffle to the backseat of the car. Newton resumes kissing him, though this time he straddles either side of Hermann’s waist, his knees able to spread out comfortably on the spacious bench. There is a noticeable bulge in the front seat of his denim trousers. “I brought a rubber,” he breathes in Hermann’s ear. “Will you...?”
Hermann shivers. “Not tonight,” he says. “I’ve not prepared for it in the slightest.” These things require preparation, you know. And, besides--the backseat of a borrowed car seems so terribly gauche. Not romantic at all. (Not that Hermann needs it, or anything with Newton, to be romantic.)
Newton laughs again, breath ghosting hot over Hermann’s ear. “I meant you to me,” he says. “I--brought stuff. To do it. You know.”
“Oh,” Hermann says.
Newton produces the condom and a small repurposed honey jar of petroleum jelly. He presses both to Hermann’s fist. “Whenever you want,” he says.
It’s easier said than done. Especially within the confines of such a tight space. Newton manages to get his his t-shirt off and his trousers down as far as his knees before giving it up as a bad job; Hermann doesn't so much as make it down to his undershirt. “I don’t think this is going to work,” Hermann finally declares.
“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” Newton whines, “I almost got my shoe off, look, gimme five more--”
Hermann scowls up at him. “Don’t call me sweetheart. We’ll simply have to wait until we’re somewhere more comfortable for all that.” Then, because Newton looks disappointed, and because Hermann’s erection has not subsided in the slightest and he would not mind getting off to some degree: “There's, er, no need to stop kissing me. I did say all that. Do feel free to carry on with everything else.”
