Archive of Our Own

It was nearing one in the morning, and tensions ran as high as ever. They’d lost three pilots in twice as many months, and Pentecost had been breathing down their necks for any sort of useful information for the past five. The cherry on top, Newt thought, had to be that Hermann was being even more of an asshole than usual.

Cabinets slammed and shuddered, and voices echoed throughout the lab. A piece of chalk had landed in Newt’s most recent experiment (he’d been trying to separate the compounds in kaiju spinal fluids for about four months), and Newt had, well, flipped his fucking lid. Now he was screaming his lungs out, red in the face, because Hermann had started this fight, and Newt was going to fucking finish it.

“Don’t you dare!”

“What if I did, huh? What if I put you back four fucking months like you just did to me?” Newt threatened. He held a beaker of sickly yellow-green fluid over a stack of paperwork on Hermann’s desk. He didn’t know what it was, but it seemed important, if the look on Hermann’s face was anything to go by. “I bet you’d be just as pissed as I am, huh?”

Hermann advanced on him, eyes dark and narrowed. Newt was right; Hermann was pissed. He tried not to think about how hot it was to have Hermann’s attention totally focused on him. He backed up until Hermann’s desk dug uncomfortably into his hips.

“Not only are you going to deliberately ruin the only viable progress in this lab,” Hermann spat. He didn’t stop moving forward, crowding Newt against the desk. They were so fucking close Newt could feel Hermann’s breath on his face, like tea and those lemon shortbread cookies he was always snacking on. “But to contaminate my half in the process with your– your beloved kaiju –”

Newt faked a grin and, in an attempt to regain some fucking control of the situation, tipped the beaker ever so slightly, causing the liquid inside to slosh around menacingly.

“That’s right, baby, get ready for some kaiju bile all over your–” 

Newt choked on his next words when suddenly Hermann fisted a hand in his tie and yanked, pulling Newt to the tips of his toes. His head craned backwards so he could look Hermann in the eye, and his free hand scrambled at the edge of Hermann’s desk. Newt marvelled at how strong Hermann was, to be able to pick him up like that. Newt wasn’t a skinny guy by any means, not like Hermann. He was tiny but dense, and he carried a lot of weight in his little body.

Hermann must have missed the memo, because he manhandled Newt like it was nothing. Which was pretty surprising. And surprisingly hot.

“Newton,” he said, his usually posh voice low and just a bit menacing, “give me the beaker. Now.”

Newt swallowed hard. His arm wavered, but he didn’t give in. Hermann wasn’t even reaching for the beaker. He was going to make Newt give it to him. He knew Newt would, if Hermann told him to.

Of all the times to be horny for Hermann, Newt’s body had to pick the most embarrassing.

“It’s just Mountain Dew, man, I wouldn’t actually contaminate the whole lab, that’s just dangerous, and as much as you like to doubt it, I am actually competent and good at my job, so–”

“Newton.” Hermann tightened his grip on Newt’s clothes and narrowed his eyes. His voice dropped to a register Newt had never heard. “Now.”

“Fuck,” Newt breathed. “Yes, sir.”

If pressed, Newt would never be able to explain why the fuck he just said that. Maybe it was meant to be funny, at first, a little lighthearted poking at what was quickly becoming a very sexually-charged (at least for Newt) situation. Ooh, yes, sir, big scary Hermann’s giving orders, I’m soooo scared. Obviously it hadn’t come out that way.

Hermann’s whole body stiffened, and Newt scrambled to make up for his mistake.

“Uh, yes, sure!” he spluttered. “Yeah! Totally, man. Dude. Here! Haha.”

Silently, Hermann took the offered beaker and set it on his desk. He didn’t tear his eyes away from Newt’s flushed face.

“Okay, well, I should probably get back to work, so… maybe you could let go of me and we can forget this ever happened,” Newt suggested. “Sound good?”

Hermann scowled and crowded Newt further against the desk. Their chests were flush, both heaving, and Hermann’s knee knocked between Newt’s. Newt tried not to whine at the hungry look Hermann was giving him, but he couldn’t hide the catch in his throat or the way his eyes fluttered shut as Hermann’s breath ghosted across his face.

“Stay where you are,” Hermann said. His voice was stern, but his eyes were curious, anticipating Newt’s next move.

Except Newt’s brain flew out the window forty-five seconds earlier when Hermann pinned him to the desk.

“Sure thing, bud.”

Hermann rolled his eyes, and Newt would have laughed if he wasn’t so on edge.

“What did you say before?” Hermann asked. “When you called me… what you did.”

Newt winced. “I didn’t say anything, I don’t know what you’re–”

“Newton,” Hermann tsked, “behave.”

At that point, Newt thought, you know what? Fuck it.

They were gonna bang on Hermann’s desk, and it was like one of Newt’s wet dreams fucking come to life. And Hermann was, like, into it. Newt was definitely dreaming.

“Yes, sir,” Newt answered, completely forgetting to be embarrassed.

Hermann hummed thoughtfully, eyes sliding up and down Newt’s body. It was totally not fair that Hermann was so calm and collected while Newt was a whimpering mess all from a little manhandling and a couple of orders.

“Heh. You like that, Herms?” Newt prodded. Another attempt to gain control. “You wanna be a big man, huh? You wanna make me do whatever you want?”

“Yes, I think I do,” Hermann replied without shame. Newt envied his confidence. “Do you like being told what to do, Newton?”

Newt nodded, his face hot. “Yes. Sometimes. If I– uh… If I trust the person.”

Hermann’s eyes shot back up to his own.

“So you trust me, then?”

Newt nodded again. Hermann shot him something that was almost a smile. He let go of Newt’s tie, and Newt’s legs turned to jelly. He braced himself on the desk and prepared for the humiliation of rejection.

But Hermann just braced himself, hands on either side of Newt’s hips.

“On the desk.”

Newt’s jaw dropped open, and he put a hand on Hermann’s chest (the first touch he had initiated).

“Yeah, definitely, of course, but I, uh. Gotta tell you something first?” he said, though it came out unsure. “I never got bottom surgery; I don’t want to. So don’t be surprised at the lack of dick you find down there.” Newt cleared his throat. “I get it if you don’t wanna, like– We can forget all this ever happened, I won’t be upset or anything, if it’s not what you’re, uh, into.”

Hermann’s face softened, and he cupped Newt’s face in his hands, leaned in, and slotted their lips together. Newt moaned into the kiss when Hermann’s erection ground against his thigh.

Hermann pulled away just enough to speak.

“Newton, get on the desk.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Newt sighed. He hopped up on the desk with what he hoped looked something like grace. “I was lying about not being upset, I’d be fucking devastated.”

“I know.”

With that, Hermann pressed his lips against Newt’s, sinking long fingers into his short, messy hair. Never one to miss an opportunity to show off, Newt grabbed Hermann by the shoulders and deepened the kiss. He ran his tongue across the ever-so-slightly parted seam of Hermann’s wide lips and teased his mouth open.

It wasn’t long before Hermann was just as breathless and worked up as Newt was. His tongue dragged harshly against Newt’s, their teeth clacked together, and Newt’s bottom lip stung from all the little lovebites Hermann had given him.

Newt’s eyes flicked open as Hermann pulled away. His lips were red and just a little swollen, and his hair was a little mussed up where Newt had been tugging on it. His dark, dark eyes watched Newt intently, catching his every move and breath. There was color splotched high on Hermann’s sharp cheekbones, and Newt was grateful that, finally, he wasn’t the only one blushing like a lovestruck idiot.

“What would you like?” Hermann asked, trailing kisses down his jaw and neck. He paused to suck a small bruise onto the sensitive skin right below Newt’s ear. “You’re always full of ideas.”

Newt squirmed atop the desk, desperate for Hermann to touch him. His legs spread as soon as he felt Hermann press more insistently against his thigh.

“Anything,” he said. “Whatever you want, I don’t care. Just give me something, man.”

“What do you like, then?”

“Uh.” Newt swallowed. “This is– This is really good, yeah. Uh. Just don’t hit me and don’t call me names.” Hermann’s brow furrowed, and Newt let out a self-deprecating laugh. “When you tell a guy you like it rough, sometimes he really goes for it.”

Hermann scowled. “Why would I do that?”

Newt shrugged. “Dunno. It works for some people. Just doesn’t for me.”

“Well,” Hermann replied, that one syllable absolutely dripping with pretention, “it doesn’t for me either.”

“Cool, man. So are you gonna fuck me or what?”

Hermann chuckled — like, actually laughed, with a cute little smile and everything — and Newt pulled him into a kiss sweeter than any they’d shared so far. It was slow and simple and still really, really good. That’s how Newt knew he was totally screwed. It was one thing to have a quick fuck between lab partners (friends?), but sharing soft kisses and sweet words like they had been? He was doomed.

Newt turned the kiss dirty as he fumbled with Hermann’s belt. He sucked Hermann’s tongue into his mouth and slipped past the waistband of his boxer briefs, taking Hermann in hand. Hermann’s breath caught as Newt wrapped his fingers around his cock. It was probably the hottest thing Newt had ever witnessed (although fucking everything that happened in the last twenty minutes was also the hottest thing he’d ever witnessed, and probably everything else to come, and– okay, yeah. Hermann was just hot.)

Newt liked to think he was pretty good at giving handjobs. It wasn’t like he’d had a ton of practice — most of his talents came to him naturally, after all — but it seemed like Hermann was enjoying it well enough. He whined when Newt ran his thumb over his slit, spreading precome around the head of his cock, and he grunted every time Newt stroked him from base to tip.

Hearing Hermann’s needy little gasps and groans didn’t do anything to cool down the molten hot arousal swirling in Newt’s gut. He was desperate for Hermann to touch him, touch him anywhere, give him more than just hands on his face and lips against his. (Not that that was bad! It was just… not enough, right now.)

Hermann had just begun to fuck into Newt’s fist when Newt moaned into his mouth.

“Hermann, please,” he panted. “Please touch me, I need you to touch me.”

“What do you need?”

“Your fingers, your mouth–” Fuck, Hermann’s mouth on him. The thought made Newt shiver. “I’d take anything right now, dude, I’m seriously gonna implode or something.”

“Please don’t call me that when we’re being intimate.”

Newt tried and failed not to think about the word ‘intimate.’ Not ‘when we’re fucking’ or ‘when your hand is on my dick,’ but intimate. ‘When we’re intimate.’ Like they were fucking married or some shit. Like Hermann thought of it as more than a one-time thing.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir,” Newt said with a smile, and it was only half a joke. “You like that one better?

Hermann actually rolled his eyes. “I don’t mind it. That’s your kink, Newton, not mine.”

“You’re kidding me,” Newt laughed. He tightened his grip. “Your dick says otherwise, Dr. Gottlieb.”

“You’re detestable,” Hermann replied, dark eyes narrowed. He tugged at Newt’s belt. “Up. Get these off.”

Newt did as he was told, leaving his jeans around his ankles as he braced himself on Hermann's desk. The cold air made the wetness between his legs even harder to ignore, and he shivered. It was kinda humiliating, bent over with his whole ass out while Hermann was still fully clothed, although flushed and panting. He would have been more embarrassed about it if he couldn’t feel Hermann’s gaze wandering over his body. He waited for Hermann to tell him what to do.

“Turn around.”

Huh. Not exactly what Newt had been expecting.

“What?”

“Turn around, Dr. Geiszler,” Hermann repeated, “and spread your legs.”

Newt turned around but stood awkwardly in front of Hermann’s desk. His shirt tails just barely kept him decent. Years of being on testosterone had changed his physiology, obviously. Most of it was welcome, but everything that happened to his downstairs area was kinda weird. Newt had always thought his clit looked kinda dumb, almost like a turtle poking its head out of its shell. He would have been embarrassed if it hadn’t also been an excellent opportunity to show off the tattoos sprawling up and down his thighs. He could tell Hermann’s gaze was fixated on a tendril of deep emerald ink that wrapped itself around Newt’s left thigh like a garter.

“Let me get this straight,” Newt said. “You want me to put my bare ass on your desk.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t wanna, like, bend me over and go to town?”

Hermann rolled his eyes. “Come now, Newton, do as you’re told.”

Newt flushed and hopped up on the desk again. He went to spread his legs, but his jeans were still caught around his fucking ankles, and he couldn’t kick them off. While he struggled, Hermann pulled over his desk chair and got comfortable between Newt’s open knees. The sight of Hermann’s face so close to his cunt made him lightheaded.

With an unexpected amount of tenderness, Hermann pressed a firm kiss to the inside of Newt’s thigh, right above his knee. His blunt nails scratched all the way down Newt’s calf, through the coarse hair there, and landed atop his converse. Hermann deftly unlaced his shoe and pulled his jeans and boxers off in one fluid motion. They still hung around one ankle. Apparently that was all Hermann needed removed to fuck him senseless.

Newt leaned back on his elbows as Hermann guided his feet to rest on the arms of his desk chair, effectively trapping himself in place.

“Comfortable?” Hermann asked.

“As comfortable as I can be with…” Newt gestured towards his open legs. “How about you?”

“I’m quite comfortable where I am,” Hermann replied with a cheeky little smirk. Suddenly his face turned serious. “What terminology do you use? Should I remain gender neutral or go completely masculine?”

Newt’s heart swelled in his chest. Usually his partners (not that he’d had many) never really thought to ask. It usually didn’t come up in conversation or in bed. Which– Holy shit. Was Hermann pre-planning his dirty talk?

Newt nearly moaned at the idea of Hermann’s high-strung accent wrapping itself around words like cunt and clit, his wide lips brushing Newt’s ear as he told him exactly how he was going to make Newt cum. God, he was never going to recover from this.

Hermann cleared his throat, and Newt snapped back to the situation at hand.

“You can call it my dick if you want. Whatever helps you sleep at night, dude.”

“I would like to know what you prefer.”

“Uh. The traditionally female ones,” Newt said. “It is what it is, you know? I don’t mind it.”

Hermann nodded. “Stop me if you feel uncomfortable,” he said.

“Sure, yeah– oh!”

Hermann kissed his way up Newt’s thigh, nipping and sucking little bruises onto his skin. Newt’s breathing picked up the closer Hermann got to his cunt. He threw his head back and moaned as Hermann licked into him.

“Fuck!”

Hermann pulled away, and Newt almost cried.

“Good or bad?” he asked.

“‘S good. Real good, Herms.”

Blessedly, Hermann didn’t say anything about the nickname, or about the constant stream of expletives falling from Newt’s lips as Hermann ate him out. His large hands kept Newt’s legs spread wide as his tongue fucked in and out of his hole, twisting and swirling in no real pattern or method at all. Newt saw stars every time Hermann wrapped his lips around his clit. He fisted his own hands in his hair to keep from grinding on Hermann’s face.

Newt, thinking it might be polite to warn Hermann of his impending orgasm, gasped, “‘M close, Hermman, I’m so close–”

Newt expected Hermann to pull away, but he doubled down, sucking hard on his clit and dragging his tongue through his folds. Hermann didn’t move when Newt’s orgasm ripped through him, hips jerking — he just pressed Newt’s legs wider apart. He kept going and going until Newt was shaking and panting and scrambling to push Hermann’s head away from him, he was so oversensitive.

Newt’s heart pounded insistently against his ribs, and he struggled to catch his breath as he rode out his high. Hermann ran his hands up and down Newt’s thighs, short nails scratching, teasing. Newt twitched every time Hermann’s knuckles brushed too close to his cunt.

“Holy shit,” Newt finally breathed. “Oh my god. You’re, like, way too good at that. How– How are you so good at that?”

“It was all right, then?” Hermann asked. He pulled an honest-to-god handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped his face. He looked so unsure, and Newt thought it was just the cutest thing ever. “I was quite worried. I’ve never done that before.”

“It was good. D’you want me to, uh…” Newt’s mouth was already watering from just the thought of getting Hermann’s dick in his mouth. He swallowed. “Want me to return the favor? I’d be happy to.”

“Perhaps another time,” Hermann replied.

Newt’s mind was still reeling from the concept of this shit happening again when Hermann grabbed him by his tie and sealed their lips together. Newt opened his mouth, hoping Hermann would take the hint and deepen the kiss. He did, and Newt groaned at the taste of himself on Hermann’s tongue.

Another time , Hermann said. As in, a second or third time. An indefinite amount of times. Newt imagined Hermann inviting him back to his quarters with a hungry look in his eye, pushing him against the chalkboard and taking him slowly (even as Newt begged for more), bringing him to his knees to suck him off when he was particularly frustrated with an equation. Another time. That meant Hermann thought about it too.

That was probably the thing that drove Newt the craziest. The fact that Hermann thought about it too, had thought about it before. Had thought it enough to eagerly take whatever Newt would give him.

Hermann bit into Newt’s lower lip, snapping him back to the present. Newt whined into Hermann’s mouth, shoving at his stupid tweed jacket. Hermann didn’t protest. He tore off the offending article of clothing and rolled up his sleeves, and Newt thought he might faint. He felt like a Victorian son of a bitch, getting all hot and bothered just by seeing Hermann’s bare forearms.

“You don’t happen to have a condom in here, do you?”

“Uh.” Newt let out a strained laugh against Hermann's throat. “No? You think I’m getting enough dick to necessitate me having condoms in the fucking lab of all places?

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Hermann said. “You’re… quite charming, when you want to be.”

Newt laughed again. “That’s really sweet, Herms. Not many people can make it past the tats, though. Even less make it past the trans thing.”

The look on Hermann’s face went from desperate to kind of sad, and Newt didn’t like it at all. He pressed a little kiss to Hermann's jaw.

“It’s okay. You get used to it,” he continued, shrugging. “Anyway, I’m clean, if you’re, uh. If you don’t mind the– the mess.”

Hermann flushed. “Oh! Don’t we need, er, contraceptives?”

“I mean, the birth control should probably be enough,” Newt replied. “You could just– pull out. I guess. Just to be sure.”

Some part of Newt was worried that dissecting the whole process like they were would take the lust and spontaneity out of the equation. He could feel himself getting in his own head about it, working the conversation over and over until it became something insurmountable between them; until his self-consciousness overshadowed the need building inside him. He buried his face in Hermann’s shoulder, feeling decidedly less sexy than he had felt about ten minutes before.

“We don’t have to do anything like that,” he said. “I can suck you off instead.”

Hermann’s breath caught at the suggestion, and Newt counted it as a win.

“It’s entirely up to you,” Hermann replied, “and what you feel most comfortable with. If you’d rather not–”

Newt pulled away, looking up at Hermann with narrowed eyes.

“Dude, I can’t decide if this is considerate or condescending,” he said. “I get that this is probably different for you, but come on, man. I don’t have any problems with my genitalia. Do you?”

Hermann actually recoiled at the accusation. “Newton! Of course not! If I did, we certainly wouldn’t be here.”

“Then quit treating me like I can’t make a fucking decision and tell me what you want!”

“I want to fuck you,” Hermann hissed, “but you seem like you’d rather do anything else. What do you want, Newton?”

Newt groaned and pulled Hermann into a deep, wet kiss. Hearing those words come out of Hermann’s mouth had been the only thing he’d wanted for the past five years. (Well, not the only thing he’d wanted to hear, but those things were astoundingly less likely. You’re right, Newton. I’m sorry, Newton. I love you, Newton. To name a few.)

“Fuck me,” he said, and it came out more like a plea than anything else. “I want you to fuck me. Please, Hermann, you gotta, I need it.”

“Say it again.”

“God, please fuck me, sir.”

Eagerly, Hermann descended on Newt, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses on the side of his neck and down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. His tie was flung somewhere on the floor, but Newt couldn’t care less. Not when Hermann was pressing his lips to the ink and scars running across his chest.

“I want to see you cum again first.”

Newt let out a harsh breath. “Yes sir,” he said. “Anything you want.”

This was basically everything Newt had ever dreamed of.

(Well. Not everything, of course. There’d been no candlelit dinner or flowers or playing footsie under the table or dramatic, heart-wrenching confessions of love. But that was okay. Newt shouldn’t have expected any of that stuff anyway.)

Newt whimpered as Hermann’s long fingers found their way inside him. The stretch was just this side of painful, and he hissed, grabbing Hermann’s wrist.

“Ugh, wait,” he croaked. “Slow down, slow down.” Hermann froze, and Newt gave him a little smile. “I’m good, just… gotta get used to it, is all. Gimme a sec.”

Hermann nodded. “Of course. Do let me know when you wish for me to continue.”

“Yeah, that was the plan,” Newt replied, voice strained. Apparently satisfied with that answer, Hermann continued to kiss his way down Newt’s chest. Newt cradled the back of Hermann’s head, scratching lightly at his shaved hair. He sighed. “I think I’m– oh… Wow, that’s– that’s really good.”

Hermann’s head rose from where he had been teasing Newt’s nipple with his tongue.

“Is that new?”

Newt let out a shaky laugh. “A little. You can move now.”

Slowly, Hermann’s fingers began to move again, not just stretching but fucking deeper and deeper inside him. Newt had always been fixated on those fingers. (Long, elegant, precise. Skillful. He’d spent too many nights wondering what they would feel like inside him, biting down on his lower lip hard enough to break the skin and fucking himself hard, wishing it was Hermann.) Now that they were actually taking him apart, Newt almost couldn’t believe it.

Newt nearly shrieked when Hermann hit his g-spot.

“There!” he panted. “Fuck, fuck, right there.”

Without a word, Hermann doubled down on that little spot, and Newt squirmed on his fingers, gasping and moaning his name.

“Yes, yes, keep going, keep–” 

Newt gasped, betrayed, as Hermann changed the angle and pace of his thrusts to keep him from his orgasm.

“Come on, Hermann, don’t be a — oh, fuck! — a dick.”

“Perhaps I want to take my time with you,” he said, and Newt was officially confused.

That certainly did not sound like a quick fuck. Like, at all. It was kinda the opposite. It was almost like Hermann liked him, or some shit. Which he definitely didn’t.

“Why?” Newt whined. “Why can’t you just fuck me?”

“Must I have a reason?” Hermann replied, the bastard. He slipped his fingers out of Newt for only a moment before pressing in once more with another. Newt keened as he felt three fingers stretch him open. “You– You’re stunning, Newton.”

Newt gasped and ground down on Hermann’s fingers. Shit was getting real. How the fuck was he supposed to go back to being nothing more than Hermann’s annoying lab partner when Hermann just called him stunning. He’d be hearing that in his wet dreams for years.

“So you like to be complimented,” Hermann teased. Newt couldn’t care less about how transparent he was. He nodded. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Fuck off. I’m sure you – ah! – have your dirty little – fuck – little secrets. Not really giving me the chance to– to find out much.”

“Would you like to know?”

That’s when Newt realized that Hermann was just as desperate as he was. Hermann barely ever offered personal information without either some kind of motive or weeks of pestering from Newt.

“Yes, tell me, please.”

Hermann hesitated, as if he suddenly realized what he’d offered. If Newt were a better man, he might have told him to forget about it, but he wasn’t, and he wanted to know, desperately, what Hermann liked.

“‘S okay, Herms,” he said. “It’s just me.”

“I have a certain… predilection for men with tattoos.”

A sharp laugh punched its way out of Newt’s chest, and his head hit the desk so hard it shook. Instantly, Hermann’s hands were cradling his head, and he was checking Newt over for bumps and bruises. Newt swatted his hands away, still grinning.

“I’m okay, I’m fine,” he insisted. “I can’t believe you’ve got a thing for tattoos, dude, that’s so– unexpected.”

“And why is that?”

“‘Cause you’re so proper and shit, man! You wear clothes from the 1930s and you talk like you were born in 1800 and you make everyone call you Dr. Gottlieb no matter how long they’ve known you and– it’s just kinda hilarious, man.”

Hermann frowned. “I’m glad you find it so amusing.”

“No, no, listen! I’m not laughing at you, I promise, I just–” Newt smiled. “What a coincidence, am I right?”

“Yes,” Hermann agreed blandly, “what a coincidence. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, it doesn’t hurt,” Newt lied. “Can you please go back to finger-fucking me?”

“If you have a concussion, I will never forgive you,” Hermann said, already inching back towards Newt’s cunt. “I will make your life miserable.”

“How’s that any different than usual?” Newt teased. “So. Tell me about this tattoo kink.”

Hermann rolled his eyes. “I would hardly call an aesthetic attraction a kink.”

“Well, you’ll have to give me something else, then, so we’re even,” Newt said. “A real kink.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works–”

“You don’t even have to tell me, I’ll just say ‘em ‘til you admit to one of them.”

“That absolutely does not make this process any easier. I hope you realize that.”

“I doubt you’d be into daddy stuff,” Newt began, totally ignoring Hermann’s protests, “and I don’t think you’re the kinda guy who does anything too rough-and-tumble, so that cancels out pretty much everything too weird.”

“Dear God above,” Hermann muttered. He sunk his fingers deeper into Newt, which Newt assumed was in effort to get him to stop talking. Too bad for Hermann, Newt never stopped talking. He really should’ve known that by now. “It’s bondage.”

Newt’s whole brain malfunctioned.

“Oh, shit, really? That was gonna be my next guess.”

“I don’t believe you,” Hermann retorted. “It’s not anything extreme. Certainly not as intense as your submissiveness.”

“Shut the fuck up. Tell me more.”

“Which is it, Newton?” Hermann scissored his fingers, and Newt saw stars. “Make up your mind.”

“Prick,” Newt breathed. “You or your partner?”

“My partner, for the most part, although I don’t shy away from experimentation.”

Newt laughed. “No offense, but you really don’t seem like you get enough dick to be–” (here he put on a breathless and frankly atrocious British accent) “–open to experimentation.”

“No offense,” Hermann replied, “but you’re exactly the kind of man to have a praise kink and an authority kink all wrapped up in one.”

“Oh, sick burn, Herms. Nice one. I bet– fuck, stop doing that!”

As if the stretch of Hermann’s fingers inside him wasn’t enough to drive Newt crazy, Hermann insisted on denying him orgasm, guiding him to the brink before backing off suddenly, leaving Newt hanging. It was good (it was so so so good, holy fuck, holy shit) , but Newt didn’t really have all night.

“Stop doing what?”

“You bastard, you know exactly what you’re doing,” Newt hissed. He shifted on the desk, one hand inching down his stomach. “If you don’t make me cum in the next five minutes, I’ll do it myself.”

Hermann grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the desk next to him. He looked Newt up and down, his dark eyes predatory. Newt squirmed under his gaze. He tested Hermann’s hold, but he didn’t budge.

“You’ll cum when I want you to,” Hermann said, “or not at all. Keep your hands above your waist.”

Newt swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He let out a high-pitched moan as Hermann redoubled his efforts. Yeah, he’d never be able to masturbate again. Not without remembering the feeling of Hermann’s fingers inside him, Hermann’s weight on him, Hermann’s lips leaving marks on his skin. Not without thinking of things they could’ve tried – Hermann holding him down, fucking him from behind, tying Newt’s hands behind his back and making him suck Hermann’s cock. Newt wanted it all.

“Yes, sir,” Newt repeated. His eyes fluttered shut, and he fisted his hands in his shirt. “Anything you want, I’ll be good.”

“You’ve got quite an authority kink, haven’t you, Newton?” Hermann teased. Newt whined and nodded. He clenched his eyes shut, too embarrassed to look Hermann in the face as he admitted to being more submissive than any asshole with an ego as big as his had any right to be. “Is that why you insist on calling me by my first name?” Hermann continued. “Because otherwise you’d soak through your boxers every other day?”

“Oh, fuck,” Newt sobbed. “Please make me cum, Hermann. Please, I’ve been waiting so long. I need your cock already.”

Hermann pressed their lips together and curled his fingers just so, and Newt moaned into his mouth. Their tongues swirled together, hot and slick and messy. Hermann thrusted harder and faster and deeper inside him until Newt came hard around his fingers, shaking and gasping.

“You’re lovely, Newton,” Hermann said, leaving gentle kisses on Newt’s face. “So lovely.”

Newt grabbed Hermann’s face and kissed him soft and slow. Hermann cupped Newt’s cheeks like he was something precious, and Newt melted into it. His hands migrated to Hermann’s chest, where he finally unbuttoned Hermann’s dress shirt. (Newt was basically naked, and Hermann really needed to get with the program and strip.) Hermann gasped as Newt’s hands flattened over his collarbone.

Newt didn’t know how long they kissed, but he knew he never wanted to stop. It was tender and loving and slow, even though Newt knew Hermann had to be horny as all hell. It was like Hermann wanted to take care of him. It had to mean something.

It had to mean something, but Newt was barely in his right mind — he wasn’t nearly coherent enough to mull it over just now. Not when Hermann was unzipping his stupid grandpa pants and pulling out his cock and Jesus Christ Newt was going to fucking lose his mind.

“Hey, wait, wait, wait!” he said, breathless. “Is your leg okay like this? I don’t want you to be sore later. ‘Cause I know you like to ignore it, and I don’t– I don’t wanna be the reason you’re hurting tomorrow.”

Hermann cocked his head. “I… It’s all right like this.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, of course, Newton.”

Newt nodded. “Tell me if it hurts.”

“Yes, darling.”

Newt’s heart jumped at the pet name. Hermann didn’t react at all, almost as if he hadn’t realized he’d said it.

“Promise,” Newt insisted, “that you’ll tell me if it hurts.”

“I promise,” Hermann said, and it sounded like he really meant it.

“Thanks. Now tell me more about the– the bondage thing.”

Hermann scoffed. “Why do you want to know so badly?”

“I think I could get pretty into it, is all,” Newt replied. “What do you do? Couldn’t be handcuffs, you’re too… you for that. You probably use that silk rope stuff, I bet. I’ve heard of that, it’s–”

“By God,” Hermann blurted, “what will it take for you to shut your mouth?”

Newt laughed. “Should’ve let me suck your cock, man. Can’t talk while I’m giving you the blowjob of your fucking life.”

Hermann rolled his eyes, but there was a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Newt wanted to kiss him. So he did — very thoroughly.

With all the care in the world, Hermann lined up his cock at Newt’s entrance and sunk in. Newt broke the kiss and let out a long, low moan with his head thrown back. His hands scrambled for purchase on Hermann’s back, and Newt was suddenly kind of glad Hermann was still wearing a shirt. He would’ve left angry red lines all down Hermann’s pale skin, and Newt wasn’t sure Hermann wanted that reminder.

As soon as Hermann was fully seated inside him, he paused. He leaned over Newt and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to his chest and collarbone.

“Fuck,” Hermann muttered against his ear. “You feel divine, Newton.”

Newt whined and pulled Hermann closer. Slowly, Hermann pulled out of him until the head of his cock was all that was left inside, and slowly, he pushed back in. It took the air right out of him, it was so fucking good. Hermann fucked him just like that, achingly slow, until Newt was begging for more. And the bastard just smirked.

“God, you’re so good,” Newt panted. “You’re so big. God, fuck me, Herms, please. I need more.”

Hermann didn’t change his pace at all. “Ask nicely.”

“I can’t believe you tried to make fun of me for that.” Newt gasped as Hermann hit his g-spot. He tried his hardest to grind down on Hermann’s cock, but it just wasn’t enough. “Admit it. You’re just as into it as I am.”

“Perhaps. Ask nicely, Newton.”

“God. You kinky motherfucker,” Newt laughed. It turned into a groan when Hermann sunk into him again. “Please, Hermann. Please fuck me harder, I need it harder.”

“You know,” Hermann said nonchalantly, “you’re quite bossy for someone who likes to take orders.” Despite the breezy tone of his voice, Hermann’s high cheekbones were flushed, and his mouth hung open, and a thin layer of sweat gathered on his brow and on the pale triangle of chest Newt could see at his current angle. “You’re lucky I–”

Newt groaned aloud as Hermann finally picked up his pace, fucking into him more intently. If it hadn’t been nearing two in the morning, anyone in the hallway would have heard him cry out Hermann’s name.

“Lucky you what?” Newt breathed. “What were you — oh god, fuck me, fuck me — gonna say?”

“You’re lucky I want to get off,” Hermann said, though Newt had a feeling he was fibbing, “or else I’d have left you here, wet and wanting.”

Newt feigned shock. “Hermann!” His gasp turned into a groan as Hermann started to fuck him even harder. “How — oh, fucking god — ungentlemanly of you.”

“I’m fucking you on a desk in our place of work, and you still think I’m a gentleman?”

“Yeah, it’s the accent,” Newt replied. “All the girls go– go crazy for a — yes, yes, there, fuck — crazy for a guy with an accent.”

“I’m afraid I’ve no interest in them,” Hermann teased. “What about you, Newton?”

Newt flushed. He was pretty sure Hermann already knew his accent got to him. He could count on two hands the number of times a screaming match between the two of them ended with Newt having to rush to his quarters and rub one out, always imagining Hermann’s prissy voice whispering sweet words and dirty promises to him.

“Fuck you.”

Hermann laughed, his smile wide, and Newt thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

God, Newt loved him.

He wrapped one leg around Hermann’s hip (avoiding his bad leg, of course) and pulled him forward, groaning as Hermann’s cock ground into him. Hermann fisted his hand in Newt’s hair and tugged hard. Newt whined at the sting of it.

“Fuck, fuck,” he hissed. “I’m close, Herms, I’m close. Are you close?”

Hermann nodded. “Yes,” he said, just as breathless as Newt. “You’re marvelous, Newton. You’re– You’re gorgeous, I– fuck, I’m close. ”

“Yeah yeah yeah, cum in me, Hermann, I wanna see you cum, I wanna see you,” Newt rambled. He could feel his orgasm building with every drag of Hermann’s cock inside him. “Fuck, I need it, I need you so bad, I need your cock.”

Hermann didn’t really respond so much as fuck him just a little bit faster, fingers digging into his hips so hard there’d be bruises the next morning. Every thrust came with a little grunt or groan from Hermann, and Newt savored them all, drunk on the knowledge that he was the one drawing those sounds out of the stuffy mathematician.

“You’re awfully talkative,” Hermann remarked.

“Did you expect I’d be any different than usual?” Newt panted. “Shut up, you– you love it.”

Hermann smirked and pulled mercilessly at Newt’s hair again. At the very same moment, the head of Hermann’s cock hit Newt’s g-spot, and his whole body shook as his orgasm washed over him. His thighs tensed, and his hands scrambled for purchase on the desk. He let out a low moan as his entire brain whited out with pleasure.

“Fuck, yes, Hermann, fuck me,” Newt begged. “God, I need you, you’re so good, you’re so fucking– yes, yes, I’m cumming, I–” The moan that left his mouth sounded more like a broken sob. And then, the final nail in the coffin: “Fuck, I love you. I love you, Hermann, I love you.”

Hermann gasped and pulled out, leaving Newt so horrifically empty he almost started crying for real. With Newt watching rapturously, Hermann tugged on his cock once, twice, and came in spurts across Newt’s belly. His eyes were closed, and his mouth was slack, and it sounded like the breath was punched out of him. 

Newt did that.

Newt did that.

Newt had actually wiggled his way under all of Hermann’s layers of repression and Downton Abbey cosplay and had made him look like that. Sweaty and messy and fucked out of his mind.

And Newt hadn’t even done most of the work.

This was the best fucking day of his life.

Without a word, Hermann whipped out his handkerchief (again! Newt couldn’t believe it.) and wiped Newt clean. They were both panting like they’d tried to outrun a kaiju, chests heaving, sweat making them sticky and gross. It was awesome.

“Dude, that was–” Newt swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. What was it he’d been yelling as he came? “I mean– uh.”

Hermann’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and Newt followed the movement shamelessly. Unfortunately, Hermann didn’t fail to notice, and he flushed, his high cheekbones turning pink.

“That was–” Newt tried again. “That was really– uh.”

Hermann was quiet, staring down at Newt with wide eyes. Not the good kind of wide, either. It was more like a weird mix of the kind where you didn’t know what the fuck you were looking at and the kind where you couldn’t believe you’d just fucked up that bad.

“Uh. Earth to Hermann?” Newt prodded, his stomach twisting. He got the feeling that this was one of the good things his father always told him he couldn’t have too much of. “You feeling okay?”

That question must have snapped Hermann out of whatever internal panic he’d been going through, because he hurriedly zipped up his pants and collected his clothes. In no time, his sweater vest was back on and the sleeves were rolled down, though the jacket stayed on the back of his chair. Newt just lay on Hermann’s desk, shirt open, pants and boxers hanging around one ankle, feeling like the biggest fucking idiot in the world.

All of a sudden, nothing mattered but covering up. Newt scrambled to pull up his boxers, hopping around a little to pull his jeans past his hips.

“Dude–”

“It’s late,” Hermann said. His voice was rough and he wouldn’t look at Newt. “It would do us both good to get some rest.”

“Right,” Newt agreed.

Hermann nodded, more to himself than anything.

“Well,” he said, “good night, Dr. Geiszler.”

And. Well. If that wasn’t the most heart-breaking shit Newt had ever heard.

“Night, Hermann.”

Newt watched him go, lab doors sliding firmly shut behind him. Once he was alone, he put his head in his hands and convinced himself not to cry.

Newt holed himself up in his room for two days, lying around in bed and blaming himself for everything. He should have just poured the Mountain Dew all over Hermann’s shit like he’d threatened to do. He should’ve had the common fucking sense to take a step back and think about what he was doing for one goddamn second before he pulled Hermann into that kiss — or had that been Hermann’s idea?

Whatever. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that Newt’s stupid brain couldn’t hold all his stupid love for stupid Hermann, and it had all come tumbling out of his stupid mouth in the middle of the best orgasm of his life. What mattered was that Hermann obviously hadn’t felt the same way, or else he wouldn’t have pulled his disappearing act.

It was nearing 1AM when Newt’s phone buzzed. It was a struggle finding it in the chaos of his bedsheets, but when he did, his heart fucking soared. He wiped his eyes (no, he hadn’t been crying, he was just tired, fuck you very much) and took a deep breath.

Hermann had left him a voicemail. At 1AM. Those voicemails were usually for something fun. Even if Newt wasn’t feeling up to it, it was nice to know that Hermann was. That everything might be okay between them.

Hermann’s voice rang through Newt’s room, made tinny by the quality of his phone and the less than stellar reception they got in their quarters.

“Dr. Geiszler,” he began, awkward as ever, “I’ve been thinking on the matter, and I think– Well, to put it shortly: I would be willing to forget what transpired between us if it would make things… easier. I fear we’ve crossed some sort of line. Please respond to me promptly with your thoughts on the matter. I’d like to move past this if we can.”

Newt sighed and shut off his phone, throwing it back into his sheets. He tried curling up and going to bed (just so he didn’t have to think about Hermann anymore), but he couldn’t get his bead to stop spinning or his chest to stop aching.

He sent off a text to Hermann before forcing himself to close his eyes and think of anything else.

ok.

Maybe he expected to go back to normal, maybe he expected something stiff and unsure. Whatever it was, Newt didn’t expect for Hermann’s gaze to lock onto his neck (and the smattering of dark red-purple bruises along his jaw and down his throat) the minute he walked into the lab two days later. He didn’t expect Hermann’s lingering glances or his sultry once-overs. He didn’t expect for Hermann’s eyes to be on him nearly every second they shared the lab together, stern face absolutely unreadable but for the admiring quirk of his brow.

It was nice, and maybe Newt leaned into it a little too much, but could you blame him? He’d take any chance to show off, and if Hermann was watching, Newt was gonna give him a damn good show.

He became twice as clumsy as before, dropping shit over and over again just to bend down and pick it up. He felt Hermann’s eyes on him every time, no doubt alerted by the clang of a plastic pen on the hard metal floors or the flutter of unstapled papers as Newt tripped over thin air and sent them flying. Every time, without fail, Hermann’s gaze was on him. Admiring him.

He let Hermann catch him looking a couple times too. (The surety of his fingers flying across the chalkboard, the crease between his brows that formed every time he got stuck on a problem and Newt had to check his math, the long pale column of his neck bared with every stress-induced tug on his collar. Newt could go on.) Just to confirm the fact that, uh, this was extremely mutual.

Newt was halfway under his desk searching for a falsely dropped pen and hoping Hermann thought his ass looked good when he spotted something way more interesting than any attempt at seduction.

“Holy shit!” he cried. “God, that’s gross. Hermann, I need a flashlight, dude, I’m making major discoveries over here.”

Hermann just sighed. “What on Earth are you doing on the floor?”

“You remember that sandwich you told me not to eat at my desk ‘cause it was, like, not in accordance with lab safety measures, or whatever?”

“No, but I’m assuming you’ve found a part of it.”

“Bingo!” Newt replied. “You coming with that flashlight or what, pal?”

“I’m right here,” Hermann said, his voice close, and Newt startled so bad he almost banged his head on the top of his desk. Hermann stared down at him, holding out his headlight with an incredibly neutral expression. (Looked like Newt’s little show didn’t work, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care at the moment.) Their fingers brushed as Newt took the headlight, and he kept his gaze anywhere but Hermann’s face.

“Thanks, man,” he said. Newt turned back to his discovery and frowned. “Hey. Could you do me, like, the biggest favor?”

Hermann scoffed. “More than I already have?”

Newt shrugged even though Hermann couldn’t see it.

“If you’re busy don’t worry about it, but you looked like you could use a break. Humor me, Herms. Write my notes with me. Your handwriting’s better than mine anyway.”

Much to Newt’s surprise, Hermann settled in his desk chair without complaint. He opened a drawer and cursed when he found it empty. Newt was still perched under his desk with his ass out, but he didn’t seem to care all that much.

“Is that why everything you own is on your desk? The drawers serve a purpose, Newton, you really ought to be more organized.”

“Dude, why do you think I have so many fucking pens? Outta sight outta mind, yanno? Look, there’s a blue composition notebook I keep for odds and ends. Grab a pen and start writing.”

“A please would be nice.”

Newt totally ignored him. “Uh, subject has been in an uncontrolled environment for over a month, possibly two, no more than three.”

“That is disgusting, Newton. It’s a wonder the whole lab doesn’t reek of rotten cheese.”

“Oh, good point! Write that down.”

“For god’s sake,” Hermann muttered. “I cannot believe you call this nonsense science.”

“And I get paid for it,” Newt laughed. “Bet that boils your blood, huh? Looks like the sample has the same viscosity as the mucus secreted by the kaiju’s skin cells.” Newt dug some latex gloves out of his pocket and snapped them on. Sweat gathered on his forehead and on the small of his back, and he dropped to his elbows to crawl just a bit closer to his discovery. “Feels like it too.”

“Please tell me you’re not touching it,” Hermann said. “For all we know, you’ve created a deadly kaiju fungus.”

“Nah. I’ll have to test it, but it looks like the bread just molded as usual and the kaiju mucus just kinda… got on it? Huh. Are you writing this down?”

“Is that important?”

“It’s all important, dude. I think the mucus is preserving it a little. Oh, dude, what if it has restorative properties? You know how dogs lick their wounds and shit?”

Hermann’s pen stopped moving. “You think the kaiju might be able to heal themselves in battle.”

Newt could practically hear the gears in Hermann’s head grinding overtime at the implication that his jaegers might have to battle self-healing monsters.

“I think I need to run some tests,” Newt replied. “I wouldn’t worry about it until it turns out to be a real problem.”

“By that time, it’ll be too late to develop the right code.”

“Okay, yeah. I think they might be gearing up for it, but they don’t have as quick an evolution rate as they want us to think. There’s no way it’s viable yet.”

“Are you quite sure?”

“Yeah, man. Plus, your jaegers kick ass,” Newt said. He didn’t hear Hermann’s reply, too focused on the task at hand. “You still got the notebook?”

Hermann wrote dutifully for about ten more minutes before Newt thought he should let him get back to his own work. Newt clicked off his headlight and turned to face Hermann, sitting on his knees. He froze when he realized the position they were in, with Newt on his knees between Hermann’s legs and Hermann looking down at him with something desperate in his eyes.

Newt’s mouth was suddenly very dry.

Hermann– well, he wasn’t not hard. Newt could see the slight bulge where his cock was thickening (just from seeing him on his knees? Hot), and God, Newt wanted it in his mouth, hot and heavy on his tongue, hitting the back of his throat, making his eyes water.

God, he was horny. He wanted to sit on Hermann’s lap and ride him for as long as Hermann would let him. He wanted to run his hands over Hermann’s shoulders and chest and press sloppy kisses down his throat. He wanted to kiss Hermann soft and slow and sweet. He wanted to cuddle afterwards with Hermann’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist. He wanted Hermann to love him.

It almost felt like love when Hermann slowly reached out to cup Newt’s jaw with one large hand. In an instant, Newt had ripped off his gloves and his headlight. It had been a week since Hermann had touched him, and he wanted nothing more than to be touched again. One hand rested on Hermann’s good knee. Hermann didn’t shake him off.

Hermann’s hand migrated from his jaw to the top of his head, and his long fingers carded through Newt’s hair. Newt’s eyelids fluttered closed at the sensation. His whole body melted into it. He was putty in Hermann’s hands.

Suddenly, lips were on his, and Newt surged upwards to meet Hermann’s enthusiasm head on. It was hot and slow and careless, like they had all the time in the world to waste exploring each other’s mouths. It was amazing. Newt was in heaven.

He didn’t know how long they kissed, but he knew his knees were beginning to ache. Newt broke the kiss and climbed onto Hermann’s lap, careful to avoid putting any weight on his bad leg. Hermann’s hands came to rest on his hips, and Newt couldn’t help but groan at the feeling of Hermann’s clothed cock (fully hard now) pressed against his thigh.

Newt rested his forehead on Hermann’s shoulder, breathing heavy. He swallowed hard as Hermann’s hands caressed his waist and thighs. He could live forever just in this moment, with Hermann holding Newt like he loved him.

It had to mean something. It had to mean something, but it didn’t. Newt already knew that. And while Newt might have been desperate, he wasn’t eager to get his heart broken just to get off. (He’d spent years getting himself off to the thought of Hermann; it shouldn’t be any harder now.)

Then again, Newt had a habit of doing stupid things on purpose.

He kissed Hermann again, and he would have gone a lot farther if his phone hadn’t started to ring as soon as he pressed the heel of his hand against Hermann’s cock. He ignored it at first, swallowing all the desperate little sounds falling from Hermann’s lips.

A second time the phone rang. Hermann slipped it out of Newt’s back pocket and set it on the desk behind him. Then he set his hands on Newt’s ass and squeezed. Newt let out a little whine as his hips searched frantically for friction that wasn’t there.

His phone buzzed even more loudly on the hard wooden desk. Newt broke their kiss with a soft curse and finally answered it, wincing at the sound of his own breathless voice.

“Hey, Tendo! I’m kinda in the middle of something, I don’t have time–”

Tendo laughed. “Trust me, I know, brother. And I’m happy for you, really, but you gotta at least learn to lock the door, man.”

Newt’s stomach swooped. He looked down at Hermann with wide eyes before scrambling off his lap. 

“Uh,” he said into the phone. “What?

“Someone more important than me is bound to walk in sometime. Be careful. Allison and I got caught a coupla times–”

“Tendo,” Newt squeaked. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You and Dr. Gottlieb!” Tendo said with a laugh. “Congratulations, man. I would have said so earlier but, as you said, you were in the middle of something.”

Newt’s head was spinning. He wished Tendo was right. He wished he and Hermann were actually together and not just doing whatever the fuck they were. He wished he’d gotten enough courage to just fucking tell Hermann the truth, and he wished Hermann felt the same way.

“I didn’t even hear the door.”

“Yeah, no shit. I was gonna stop by to ask if you wanted to play cards tonight — the Kaidonovskys’ family sent some of that good vodka again — but I can tell you’ve got better things to do. You’ll have to tell me how that all worked out later this week.”

“Yeah okay thanks bye Tendo.”

Newt hung up the phone and stared at it in his hands, wide-eyed. Hermann didn’t make a sound.

“You know,” Newt said slowly, still looking down, “I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

Hermann was silent. Frozen still.

“It’s kinda– tricky, with us working together and all, and, you know, feelings get in the way sometimes, and it’d just be easier if– if we forgot about it. Like you said.”

Newt finally looked up when Hermann stood. His face was so pinched it looked like he’d swallowed a mouthful of vinegar. He stood totally still but for the fingers flexing on the head of his cane.

“Of course, Newton. You’re right.”

Newt had always wanted to hear Hermann say that, but now was really not the best time.

“I am?”

“Yes. Emotions are pesky little things indeed. It would be a disservice to ignore them, and I am not foolish enough to hold your word to be the truth.”

“Uh. What?”

“I can’t blame you for…” Here Hermann paused. He looked uncertain, and sounded even more so. “Certain words exchanged in the… the heat of the moment, if you will… they’re to be taken with a grain of salt. Don’t you agree?

Newt furrowed his brow. God, Hermann was annoying sometimes. As if the accent wasn’t posh enough, he had to go and talk like he was living with Queen Anne or some shit.

“Are you telling me,” Newt said slowly, “that you think… I didn’t mean it?”

Hermann nodded. “It would be selfish of me to expect you to–”

“Wait a second, wait. You think I didn’t mean it?”

“What’s the alternative?”

Newt felt like he was gonna explode.

“That I fucking meant it, you moron!” He threw his hands in the air and paced up and down in front of his desk. “You asshole. You asshole! ” Newt rounded on Hermann, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You didn’t wanna deal with it so you pretended it didn’t exist. You left me that damn voicemail telling me to just– just forget about it, like I could just do that! Why the fuck would you do that?”

“How am I supposed to react to a confession like that?” Hermann argued. “You expect me to ask for clarification as if this is some undergrad lecture? Expect me to put myself on the line–”

“Yes!”

“Why, when I already know the answer?”

“Because I did!” Newt shouted. “I put myself out there! I fucking– We had sex, Hermann, that doesn’t mean nothing to me, okay, it’s actually kind of a big deal, and you didn’t give enough of a shit to even ask me about it, you just decided we’d forget about everything and then we obviously didn’t forget about it. Did I mean to say that? No. Did I mean it, though? I–” Newt’s voice faltered as he locked eyes with Hermann. “I… Yes. Yeah. I meant it. Like it or not.”

Hermann’s eyes were wide as he spoke.

“It didn’t mean nothing to me, Newton.” His voice was soft and sounded like it might shatter if Newt breathed the wrong way. So he held his breath when Hermann spoke again. “I didn’t know. I–”

“Well, now you do,” Newt said. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “So, uh. I don’t blame you for not– you know. It’s whatever. Look, thanks for taking notes, I– we should probably get back to work. I got a lotta new stuff to deal with, and, and I know you’re busy, so– we should… yeah.”

Hermann just stared at him. He made no effort to move at all. Honestly, Newt was kind of surprised Hermann spent this long on his side of the lab to begin with.

“Newton,” he said, taking two cautious steps forward, “I’m sorry to have caused you pain. I was trying–”

“Yeah, it’s whatever, dude, you didn’t know,” Newt interrupted. He ignored Hermann’s scowl and continued, “I would love to stop talking about it. Not to be dramatic but this is probably the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, so–”

Newt’s brain shut down as soon as Hermann grabbed his hand. All he could do was think about how nice their hands looked together: Newt’s sturdy, kinda pudgy fingers, nails bitten down to the quick, enclosed by Hermann’s own, bony and pale and fucking freezing. He only looked up when Hermann spoke.

“Newton, I’m begging you: shut your blasted mouth for two minutes so I can tell you I love you too.”

Newt’s jaw dropped open. “No way. Seriously?”

Hermann rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. He squeezed Newt’s hand. Newt thought that maybe he was going to die, or he was dying, because there was no way Hermann would ever mean that in real life.

“Yes, of course, darling,” he said. “How could I not?”

“Oh, shit, man. That’s like–” Newt let out a little laugh, intensely aware that tears were gathering in his eyes. “That’s like… so sweet. That’s– There’s, like, tons of reasons to not love me, dude, I–”

“Nonsense,” Hermann replied, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “There are plenty of reasons to love you.” He scowled and gripped Newt’s hand tighter. “I am sorry I hurt you, Newt. I was trying to protect myself from harm, and in doing so, I pushed you right in its way.”

Hermann’s apology flew right over Newt’s head. (He would deal with it later. Right now, there were more pressing matters to discuss.)

“Oh my god, you just called me Newt?”

A light blush crept its way onto Hermann’s cheeks. It was the cutest thing Newt had ever seen.

“I–! Well–!” he spluttered. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“I mean, yeah,” Newt said. It was his turn to blush, apparently, because his face felt like it was on fire, and he couldn’t look Hermann in the eye. “I, uh… I kinda like that you call me Newton, though. Nobody else does, and it’s– I dunno, it’s dumb.”

Hermann gave Newt a soft look. “It isn’t. Newton is a lovely name, my dear.”

“I like– I like the pet names too.”

“I’m glad. I’ve certainly thought of you that way for some time.”

Newt’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh my god, dude. That’s such a good point. How long have you liked me?”

Hermann shot a quick glance at his watch and let out a sigh.

“I’ll grant you this one,” he said, “but after that, you’re right, we must really get back to work. If you can hold out for a few hours, I’ll answer any other questions you have.”

Newt nodded, but his brows furrowed. “Why a few hours?”

“Er, yes. Right,” Hermann said. He was suddenly nervous, staring down at their intwined hands, his fingers fidgeting with Newt’s. “I was hoping you’d let me take you to dinner. On a... date.”

Newt could have cried. “Yes!” he said. He gripped Hermann’s hand tighter. “Yeah, that sounds awesome. That sounds totally awesome. Where are we going?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” Hermann admitted. “You choose.”

“Sweet. I know this great ramen place not too far from here, you’ll love it,” Newt said. Hermann nodded, and Newt gave him a blinding smile before his brain caught up to him. “Wait! How long have you liked me?”

“Since the moment I met you,” Hermann replied easily. “I realized I had fallen in love with you as soon as you sat down across from me in that cafe.”

Newt nearly swooned. He settled for wrapping his arms around Hermann’s waist and tucking his face into his bony shoulder.

“That’s so romantic, Herms. But it looks like I got you beat.”

Newt didn’t have to see him to know Hermann was scowling.

“How?”

“I knew you were the one for me as soon as I read your first letter.”

“That can’t possibly be true.”

“Yep! You can ask anyone. You called me a ‘brilliant scientist’ and then proceeded to tear my latest paper to shreds, dude,” Newt laughed. “And it wasn’t because I was young or unprofessional or anything. It just just ‘cause it was full of holes I totally overlooked. I fell in love right then and there, and I wrote you back as soon as I could.”

Hermann squeezed Newt tighter and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“We’ve got work to do, darling.”

“I know,” Newt said, voice a little muffled. “Just give me a few more minutes.”

“Oh, all right,” Hermann sighed. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

Hermann tucked Newt squarely under his chin, with an arm around his shoulders and a hand scratching lightly at his hair. Newt melted into the embrace and grinned to himself, feeling the happiest he had in a long time.

“I love you, Newton.”

Newt shivered. He didn’t know if he could ever get used to hearing Hermann say that. He didn’t know if he wanted to — maybe he could feel this good all the time.

“I love you too.”

“Hey,” Newt said eventually, staring up at Hermann with the best approximation of puppy-dog eyes he could muster, “does this mean I get to see your fancy bondage rope and shit?”

“Oh, for the love of God–!”