"Let me," Newt starts. His voice is wrecked. He clears his throat. "Let me—tell me what to do, I want—I want to make it good for you, too."
Malik's hands tighten on his hips.
"What?" Malik says.
"For you," Newt says. He is flushed and he is embarrassed and he is saying it anyway. "Last time I didn't—I didn't do anything for you, I just—I just let you—I didn't even—you didn't even—"
"Newt."
"—I want to, though, I want to make you feel good too, I just don't—I don't know what to—I've never—"
Malik reaches up. Cups his jaw. Turns Newt's face fully to his.
"Tell me whatyouwant," Malik says.
Newt stops talking.
Malik's thumb strokes his cheekbone. His expression has gone something Newt has never seen on him before—open, unguarded, almost raw, and Newt is so used to Malik's face being a carefully curated performance that seeing him like this feels like walking into a room he isn't allowed in.
"I don't understand," Newt whispers.
"Yes, you do. Tell me what you want."
"I want—I want you to feel good—"
"Newt."
"I want—" Newt's voice cracks. "I want you. I want you, Malik, I want—anything, whatever you want, I'll do anything—"
Malik inhales sharply, through his teeth. His hands on Newt's hips flex.
"Anything?" Malik says, low.
"Anything you want."
Malik stares at him.
He stares at him for long enough that Newt starts to panic, starts to wonder if he has said something wrong, something humiliating, and then Malik's eyes are doing that thing, where they go dark and heavy and look at Newt like he is something rare and also something edible—and Malik says, his voice gone rough and slow as dark honey:
"I want to taste you."
Newt makes a sound.
He doesn't mean to. It is a small choked humiliating noise and he feels his face go scarlet, down his throat, across hiscollarbones, and he stammers, "You—you want to what? That's—I mean, I—that'sall you want?"
Malik smiles. It is small and dark andhungryand it does something unspeakable to Newt's insides.
"Yes," Malik purrs. His hands are sliding around. Fingers finding the waistband of Newt's trousers. "That is all I want."
"But—but I should—I can do something, I can—"
"Newt." Malik leans in. Presses his mouth to the corner of Newt's jaw. Bites him, very gently. "Lie down."
"But—"
"Lie down."
Newt lies down.
