Newt headed off for the far end of the pool doing front crawl. He’d never swum without trunks before. It felt wrong and a bit weird, but even before he’d reached the end of the pool, he’d changed his mind. Having nothing between him and the water was freeing. And because he probably wasn’t supposed to be doing this naked, it felt even better. He’d toed the line for so long, followed the rules, now he had the chance to be a little bit bad, he was enjoying it. He’d try and get River in here with him tomorrow, though he’d have to borrow some of his swimwear. Hopefully something baggy just in case his cock let him down.
He thought again about River’s behaviour. With all the warnings, Newt really had expected him to be worse. If he’d been in River’s situation, he’d have been frustrated, angry and unhappy too. Lashing out at people who were trying to help him was sort of to be expected. Newt remembered enough from his degree course to be able to help him, and to understand what was going through his head, though he was nowhere near an expert in speech therapy. That required two years of post-grad study.
At one point, he’d thought about pursuing that and decided against it, not just because of the cost, but awareness that he might be unable to get a job afterwards because of his criminal record. It was soul-destroying to have that albatross around his neck for the rest of his life when he’d never done anything violent. Was it any wonder he wanted nothing to do with his family? They couldn’t give him back those years he’d lost or make his future what he’d wanted it to be.
His front crawl improved the more lengths he swam but when he grew tired, he climbed out. Newt pushed to his feet and dragged his fingers through his hair to shed some of thewater. He froze when he thought he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. But there was no one in the room and when he looked through the glass, he couldn’t see anyone outside, so thought he must have imagined it. Maybe a bat had flittered past the window. Newt dried himself off, wrapped the towel around his waist, picked up his clothes and went upstairs with his bag from the hall.
He picked the room next to River’s. It was a palace compared to what he was used to. Instead of a single bed with a thin mattress and cold concrete floor, this room didn’t just have a large bed, but a couch and a small table, along with a beautiful bathroom. The grey carpet under his bare feet was soft and thick. He’d probably never have a bedroom as lovely as this, ever again. Let alone the fabulous bathroom. No bath, but it was shiny clean with underfloor heating. The shower was the longest he’d taken in years.
When Newt came out of the bathroom, he dressed again. He needed to make sure River ate something. As he emerged from his room, he could hear him clattering around downstairs. Newt found him in the kitchen, making himself a sandwich, struggling to spread peanut butter. He didn’t offer to help. River was feeling helpless enough already without being reminded of it.
“Is that all you want? You don’t fancy cheese on toast? Or beans on toast?”
River ignored him.
Newt made himself a sandwich too. “Would you like a coffee or tea?”
No answer.
River picked up his sandwich and left the room. Patience and persistence were key. The years Newt had spent locked up had been good preparation for dealing with Mr Awkward.
Five
The war between them lasted almost a week. River was determined he’d win. Newt kept smiling. River kept scowling. Newt behaved as if River was being perfectly reasonable when he knew he wasn’t being reasonable at all. Newt’s tolerance drove River nuts. Particularly annoying when it was supposed to be the other way around. Max rang almost every day and River sat seething as Newt told him everything was fine, that they were getting on well and River was ‘no problem at all’.Bastard.
Childish petulance made River awkward about everything. Newt’s patience never faltered. Every day he sorted out the mess in River’s room, gathered everything that needed washing, made the bed, tidied what needed tidying, then went down with the laundry. And fucking smiled, chattering cheerfully as he did it.Bastard!
Speech therapy was another battle. Newt kept trying to persuade him to speak, showed him apps he could use and River stayed silent. Newt never gave up, just waited, tried again later, and that annoyed River more than it should have done.
Physio wasn’t a battle between him and Newt but the usual tussle with Jorge. The sessions were the only times Newt left him alone, when River sort of wanted Newt to save him. River hated Jorge with a passion. Physio shouldn’t hurt that much, should it? Not during, nor after? When Jorge had gone, River dragged himself to bed and fell asleep.
Whenever Newt came in and woke him, River just kept telling him to “fuck off.” But he didn’t.
Newt was nowhere near as easy to get rid of as the resthad been. Each time River held up theYou’re firedsign, Newt laughed and pretended it said something completely different. “I have nice hair? Thanks.” Or “You like my arse?” It had been hard not to laugh.
Food was another battle. River sometimes ignored the meals Newt had prepared and made his own. The only time Newt reacted was when River tipped food into the bin and Newt lectured him.
“Please don’t throw food away. It’s unnecessarily wasteful. If you won’t try to communicate what you want, I have no choice but to guess. If you don’t fancy it, then leave it. I can eat it another day.”
River was furious that he felt guilty. He existed on sandwiches because he was making a point. When hunger and boredom got the better of him, he scraped the meal Newt had made into a plastic container and took it to his room. It looked terrible but tasted fine. It all ended up mixed together in your stomach anyway.
He continually let his room get into a mess, dropped his clothes where he took them off, made no effort to straighten his bed. There were towels all over the bathroom floor. And a mini-mountain of shoes in one corner of the bedroom. He’d start to sort them and get fed up. Three days he did that and Newt never batted an eye. River took books off the shelves in his office and left them on the floor. Took out all the cereal boxes and left them on the work surface.
How far could he push Newt before he broke?
How much more could he take from Jorge without screaming?
On the seventh day of their battle, River woke in his room after a late-afternoon nap to find Newt sitting on the chair, as usual, but he was asleep, which wasn’t usual. Hesprawled like a lazy cat with his legs spread, arms flopped by his side and his head barely supported by the chair back. There was a book about the Romans on his lap. At least River assumed it was. There was a gladiator on the cover.
He’d noticed that Newt didn’t have many clothes. One pair of jeans, which he was currently wearing, and grey jogging bottoms when the jeans were being washed. A couple of cheap plain T-shirts. Two cheap sweaters, one with a rip. Why was that all he’d brought with him? Was he on the run from an abusive relationship? Where did Max find him?
He quietly swung his legs off the bed and pushed to his feet. Newt always seemed to be moving. Cleaning, tidying, sorting… This was a chance to see him when he wasn’t. River had noticed if he stared, it made Newt uncomfortable. Catnip to River. It wasn’t as if it was a hardship staring at him. He just didn’t get the chance to do it very often. Now, he could stare all he wanted and he went as close as he dared.
No green eyes on view but River let his gaze wander over every other inch of him. Sharp cheekbones, straight nose, strong jawline… His ears stuck out a bit from his hair, a little pointy at the top.Maybe he’s a faerie.River allowed himself a rare smile. His neck was slender and River imagined putting his mouth there, sucking, leaving a mark… And his cock thickened.Oh fuck.That was good and bad, though as long as Newt didn’t—
Newt opened his eyes, took one look at River and freaked out. He flung himself off the chair in such a panic, he fell on the floor.What the hell?River stepped away. What did Newt think he’d been going to do? Newt quickly regained his composure and pushed to his feet. Fortunately, River’s cock had also freaked out and was limp again, otherwise Newt might have had an eyeful of the bulge in his jeans.
“Planning my murder?” Newt asked.
