#ksvp16

No new specimens would be gracing the biologists dissection tables, tools, or the lab floor. Leatherback, Otachi, and baby Otachi yielded a few more unique specimens, but they were only able to keep him occupied for so long. Once the last of the dissections were completed, Marshall Hansen became very persistent with following up on the progress of all the reports Dr. Geiszler had yet to write-up. It was a daunting task for the scruffy scientist since it required the transfer and combining of notes from his notebooks, voice recordings, napkins, the backs of various PPDC memos and even squares of toilet paper. Newt did an excellent job keeping records of everything - no matter where the idea or break through happened. He just didn't do such a great job keeping it all organized. He'd already managed to turn in a number of reports, but there were still many more needing to be typed up.

Since the majority of the biologist's research had to actually do with the kaiju themselves, he was always left behind in the lab to write. Hermann had been appointed to represent the K-Science division at the conferences since his work had focused on kaiju patterns and the structure of the Breach. However, the mathematician had begun to encounter another pattern. This pattern had to do with his presentation times and how with the more conferences he attended, the less time he was being allotted to actually speak.

"It is so overwhelmingly aggravating!" bursted Hermann as he slammed a book shut on his desk and mildly startled the other scientist. Newt had been staring at his computer screen while at least being mildly aware of Hermann ranting in the background. He decided that now would probably be a good time to pay full attention and try to settle his lab partner down.

"Hermann, you keep getting louder. Relax," interrupted Newt as he got up from his work station and made his way to the mini fridge in the lab to retrieve a can of soda.

The vested scientist balled up is hands and took a deep breathe before continuing, "They do not know what they are talking about. They were not there. They did not witness the horrors first hand like the pilots and we did."

"Dude, wait. We?" the biologist spat as her turned around and pointed with his can toward the other man.  "I don't remember you being there with tentacles in your face. Or being chased down a street by a massive half-formed kaiju baby. OR witnessing a kaiju parts dealer get swallowed by said half-formed kaiju baby." 

"Newton, do not discredit the vivid nature of drifting. The glimpse of the horrors beyond the Breach in conjunction with what you had just recently experienced? It is nothing at all like the mere video footage all those politicians see of the kaiju attacks."

Newt crossed his arms as he made his way to Hermann's desk with a smirk. "I know, dude. I drifted with a kaiju. Twice. Besides Herms, I was kidding!"

Dr. Gottlieb rolled his eyes as he rolled his chair away from the desk so he could sit down. "Now is not really an appropriate time to make jest of my irritation, Newton," reproached Hermann. As he lowered himself in to the chair and rested his cane against the desk, he continued in a more somber tone, "Things did not go well during this conference and I do not foresee any additional funding heading our way. They continue to truncate my time on the floor. I can't make our case any more valid if they keep that up. The K-Science division will continue to stagnate in the wake of the Breach's closure. And there is no time to stagnate. Preparation is always key and we need to be prepared in case the Breach re-opens."

"You seriously think I'm not aware of that?" asked Newt as he sat on the edge of the desk.

"I do question your thought processes often Dr. Geiszler," replied Hermann with a sardonic smile.

"Ouch. Thanks, dude," responded the biologist as he scratched his nose.

"It appears as if they are getting comfortable," sighed Hermann while leaning his head into his left palm. He stretched out his other arm across the desk and began to idly roll a pencil with his fingers. "I believe the only reason I'm on the roster for these blasted things is due to some formality of including representation from all departments." He sounded almost defeated at the end and continued to roll the pencil back and forth.

Newt studied his lab partner for a bit. He nervously tapped his soda can a few times before finally setting it down on the desk. He then placed his hand on the desk next to the other scientist's. Hesitation ran through his mind for a moment before he reached his thumb to the side and lightly stroked the back of Hermann's wrist. The mathematician froze for a moment before he abruptly sat-up straight and quickly jerked his hand away while glaring at the man perched on his desk. A faint blush began to decorate Hermann's cheeks. "Your touch is cold from holding that soda which you have rested on my desk with no coaster."

A frown quickly formed on Newt's face and he sighed, "I think we need to talk about this."

"What? Your inability to use a coaster?" scoffed Hermann while he held his wrist to his chest and softly  rubbed it with his other hand. He held his gaze away from Newt.

"No. The real reason you pulled away. You don't like showing any affection beyond our bedroom walls."

Hermann turned his gaze further way from Newt as he continued to stroke his wrist. "I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about Dr. Geiszler. Your touch was ice cold. Nothing more."

"I'm pretty damn sure I remember my hands were ice cold, you know, the night before you left for the conference. When I climbed into bed with you and you sure as hell didn't pull away from me. In fact, you-"

The mathematician directed a sharp glare at his lab partner, "Dr. Geiszler!! We are at work!"

"Oh, come on, Herms! We live at work!" exclaimed Newt as he stood up from the desk. "And it's not like our feelings are brand-spanking new. Dude, you just said it yourself earlier, 'do not discredit the vivid nature of drifting.' We were both devastated by how horribly our first meeting went years ago and we continued to secretly pine over the other non-stop."

The blush on Hermann's cheeks grew brighter as his glare softened, "Indeed. But we are not school children, Newton. Public displays of affection are not appropriate at work."

A smirk played on Newt's lips and he sighed, "We have got to work on your super stuffy grandpa view of PDA."

The glare Hermann had been displaying shifted into an averted gaze again. "It honestly is a bit more than just that. Yes, we very well had been having quite the emotional battle in our minds for years, but as far as everyone else is concerned, we are still but colleagues."

"I'm pretty darn sure most everyone has caught on by now. I haven't exactly been the most discrete when I'm coming and going from your room. Things were rather overwhelming and intense after our drift. Words weren't going to cut it after that experience."

Hermann planted his face in his hand and groaned. "Well, even so, we have not been an actual couple for very long. Excessive displays are just a bit too much too soon still."

Newt crossed his arms as his smirk grew, "Let's get a better understanding of 'excessive' for the record. Example - my crawling under your desk to give you a blow job."

Hermann's face shot out of his hand and lit-up bright red, "Excessive, Dr. Geiszler! How dare you even mention that in here!"

A chuckle escaped Newt, "Okay, good. Hopefully you'll see a spectrum now." He crouched down next to Hermann's chair and held out his hand expectantly while eyeing the other man's wrist. There was a bit of hesitation evident on Hermann's face, but Newt kept his position steady. Soon a bone-y wrist rested in Newt's palm and he began to gently stroke the backside with his thumb. Looking up to make eye contact and with a smile, Newt continued, "So, would we classify this as excessive?"

With a slight frown wanting to tug at his lips, Hermann looked into Newt's eyes. He gazed for a bit and began to feel himself ease as his breath soon matched the pattern of Newt's gentle touch. A sigh of acquiescence finally escaped Hermann. "I do believe you have made your case, Newton."

Newt's smile spread as he continued to caress the soft skin underneath his touch. He eased himself out of the crouched position, down to a seated one on the floor. As the quiet moment continued between the two, Newt leaned his head into his partner's lap. Hermann let out a scoff. "You're sliding over on the spectrum, Dr. Geiszler."

His head not moving from Hermann's lap, Newt's smile shifted into a smirk. "Want me to slide all the way and give you a-"

Hermann interrupted him with a hush and continued with, "I'm actually quite fond of this." He placed his free hand in the mess of hair resting in his lap. "It is a rather relaxing and liberating experience to be sharing in such a subtle, yet intimate behavior with you in the lab. We already are so intimate with our respective work that we have performed here for so long. It feels absolutely complete to be here like this now... with you."

Newt practically purred, "I'm so glad we finally talked about this."

"Yes, indeed. However, it still does not change the sad state that our funding appears to be heading toward. I have simply run out of ideas on getting them to hear me out any more."

Newt lets out a heavy sigh as he nuzzles into the comfortable lap. "I should really get back to working on my reports.  If I actually complete them, I'm sure the Marshal well let me go to the next conference with you."

Hermann quirked an eyebrow. "And what do you believe you will be capable of accomplishing there?"

"I'm pretty sure I could be obnoxious enough to prevent them from cutting the K-Sci time short."

"Are you sure they will not simply usher me off the stage sooner?"

"I like testing theories."

"I will ponder on that while you continue writing. I am positive I have quite a few weeks time. Minimum."

"Hey."

Maybe it's the alcohol, or the party, or the fact that they've saved the fucking world, but as he and Hermann stumble out into the Shatterdome corridors and fall together unsteadily against the wall, it feels the perfect moment to close the last few delicious inches and press his lips against Hermann's.

His mouth is soft, sweet and delicious, lips narrow and swollen where he bites them, mouth broad against his. For a moment, it's perfect, it's wonderful-

Then he realises Hermann isn't kissing back.

Shit. Newt pulls away quickly; he'd thought- Hermann seemed to have liked the hug and in the Drift- he had seen what Hermann thought of him, in the Drift.

But when he looks at Hermann- he is rigid against him, eyes open and empty, mouth slack and still damp from where Newt had kissed him, hands clenched into fists.

If Newt had turned into a Kaiju in front of him and tried to eat him- it couldn't be worse.

"Hermann?" Newt's voice comes out tiny, fearful.

Hermann blinks, but doesn't seem to see him. Newt gently touches his shoulder and he seems to come back to life a little, turns his head to look at him. "Newton?"

And he sounds so small and tentative that Newt can't bear it, "What- oh shit, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to- please, please don't freak out-"

It's a bit late for that, but Hermann manages a frail, too-forced smile. "I'm not freaking out, you just- you just kissed me, what is there to -to freak out about?!" His voice climbs to a squeak at the last few words.

"Are you- not into this?" Which would- yeah, be a shame, but Newt can go with it. "Because that's totally cool, don't need-"

"No!" Hermann's hands shake, clenched so hard his knuckles are white; "Please- kiss me again."

Newt hesitates, and Hermann tries to smile but it's way too brittle. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, by Jove-" he stands up straight, like he was going into battle, and kisses Newt firmly on the lips.

And- Newt hasn't been kissed that much, but enough that he knows when a kiss is all wrong. Hermann's whole body is tense, his lips barely move, and it's more like a head-butt than a kiss.

"No-" Newt pushes him off. And that's wrong too because Hermann now looks like he's about to cry; "Look- I don't mind- whatever you're comfortable with, please."

"I-" Hermann looks away, covers his face with a hand, "I- no one, I've never- I don't know what I'm comfortable with."

"That's okay." Newt touches his shoulder carefully, and Hermann leans into that. "You alright with this?" He squeezes gently.

Hermann nods shakily.

"What about-" he steps closer, slides his arm over Hermann's shoulder.

Hermann tenses, then slowly, slowly relaxes into the hug. "That's nice." He sighs.

"Good." Newt squeezes him, Hermann suddenly goes rigid again, and he quickly lets go. "I'm sorry.''

Hermann doesn't answer, staring blankly at the opposite wall. "Hermann?" If he's made him go catatonic again, Newt is going to find a way to go back in time and throw himself down Otachi's throat- fuck it.

Hermann closes his eyes. "I hate this."

"Um." Newt puts his hands firmly behind his back. "That’s fine! No more PDA- or, Private Displays of Affection either- but that would be PDA too so I guess the acronym can do double duty-" he forces his mouth shut to cut off any more babbling.

"Not that." Hermann shakes his hand, steadies himself on his cane, face crumpled but Newt doesn't know if he's upset or angry or both. "I love- I want to love- that." He waves a hand vaguely at Newt. "It seems- wonderful." He looks down and yeah- he's pretty upset. "I hate that I cannot enjoy it."

"Hey- hey." Newt stands in front of him; "We can cope, I don't need hugs and kisses-" although they'd be really good, he doesn't say.

"I want to have them!" Hermann slams his cane on the ground, and Newt jumps. "I wants (want) to- hug you, and kiss you, and-" He’s going bright pink and it'd be adorable if he wasn't so miserable.

"Okay." Newt leans back against the wall. "Where do you wanna start?"

Hermann scowls at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, you're okay with this-" Newt touches his hand, "And you're getting better with this-" he gently, tentatively puts his) arm around Hermann's shoulder. "So that's a start; what do you think we can work on next?"

Hermann looks at him, "Do you really want to waste your time-"

"Like I have anything better to do-"

"You are a war hero, Newton, you could have anyone-"

"I told you not to call me that! You've been in my head; of course I want you-"

"I am broken!" Hermann slams his cane down again, looks at it wretchedly, "In more than one way. You can do so much better-"

"Just shut up!" Newt pulls his own hair in frustration and for once, Hermann actually stops. "Fuck, I need something to do, now the Kaiju- are gone." He can barely say it, doesn't know if it's exhilarating or horrible yet, "I get to hold you and kiss you again and again- that's not a problem, trust me!"

Hermann hesitates. "Really?"

"Want to start with kissing?" Newt grins, leaning in to start.

Hermann holds up a hand to ward him off, turning his cheek.

"Really?" Newt starts, and mentally kicks himself, "Sorry, sure." He touches his lips, very carefully, to the smooth skin of his cheek.

Hermann shivers, a slight, full body tremble, his eyes closed. "Hasn't anyone ever kissed you?" Surely, his Mom-

But Hermann shakes his head, and Newt expands the list of 'Shitty Gottliebs' to include Hermann's Mom. "Okay then." He kisses him again, gently, like touching his lips to a rose petal.

"You- don't mind?" Hermann breathes, as though he can't quite believe it.

"I love it." Newt takes his hands in both of his, squeezes them. Then, because they've Drifted and it's not a secret. "I love you."

Be My Valentine!

Hermann looks at the- garish red thing sticking out form under his keyboard. He pulls it free, finds the rose-petal pattern is not just a pattern; his fingers rub over the texture of dried flower petals, catches the faint, rich aroma still clinging to them.

He opens the card, and a thin stream of fresh petals spill out into his lap, red and pink and oddly heavy. He's half inclined to brush them to the floor, but-

The envelope arrives a week after Valentines Day. He tucks it under his shirt to hide it from the family, only opening it when he's upstairs in the bathroom.

He's glad he did; the scent inside is overwhelming. Newton must have emptied an entire bottle of perfume into the handmade paper. He chokes, and turns the extractor on.

-Wish I was here- is written in simple blue ink; a little doodle of an airplane flies over London monuments, dropping tiny hearts over the city.

He presses the card to his heart, meaning his shirt smells of perfume for weeks when he refuses to wash it.

Newt's email is waiting on his computer. -Did it get there? I hope the smell's still there; I smelled it and thought of you-

Maybe that had been the first warning sign. Hermann sighs. He can't imagine what Newt was thinking when he decided that the overwhelming reek of l'Aube would somehow represent him.

Well, he'd found out how wrong he was, just the next Valentines Day.

Hermann looks down at the card; open, the scent is richer, sweeter, a little musty and deep. It's more complex than the usual rose-scented body wash he uses, but it's similar, all the same. He wonders if it is just coincidence, or if the person who sent this had- noticed his preference.

He gathers the petals together into a little pile on his desk, wonders about make a little potpourri, and then opens the card again.

The card had been shaped like a lockbox, a tiny pewter key tucked into a pocket.

-The Key to My Heart-

Hermann opens the card, and the invitation drops out, and a note.

-You said you were going to Boston-

Is on the note, and Hermann catches his breath. Yes, the biology conference. He wouldn't have wanted to go, normally, but-

Decline of the Salamander panel: speaker- Newton Geiszler, MIT.

Inside the card,  is an invitation to a high-flying dinner at the hotel where the conference  is happening.

Hermann almost closes the card again. The memory hurts. He wishes he could go back and... and do what? Not go? It would only have been prolonging the inevitable. Newton was not the person he had imagined- that he had fallen in love with. He thinks he might have been able to work through that, but-

But he had not been who Newton had fallen in love with either.

Gott, what is he even doing? Hermann starts to close the card, ready to toss it in the bin and be done with this unpleasant visit to memory lane, get back to his numbers and what is actually important-

A tiny slip of paper flutters free of the card.

At first, he thinks it's another rose petal, but when he picks it up, it's a little red sampling slip, the kind you get in perfume shops.

He sniffs it, and the rich, spicy scent of l'Aube rises to meet his nose, subtle and sweet and even with so little he can catch all the intricacies of the smell, the sharpness that hits his nose at first, fading to the spice and a sweetness as rich as dark chocolate.

He looks at the tiny slip, blankly. Then he opens the card.

Hey Hermann! I can't promise a Michelin star meal this time! But if you want to come to my place at seven, I'm going to try and put together something decent from the Shatterdome slop.

Be my Valentine?

The card slips from his fingers. It slides into his lap. He looks at the petals on the desk, the tiny slip. Inhales the mixed scents of perfume and roses.

His heart- the heart he'd though quieted forever from his one and only relationship and its ruinous conclusion- wakes with a stab of searing pain.

He is twenty. Standing in the lobby of the hotel, pulling at the cuffs of his best suit. And his heart, his living, breathing heart, is awake inside him, dancing and bouncing and racing in anticipation of meeting-

The person he had met through their letters and emails. A brilliant, witty, funny man who always knew what to say. Who knew when to be quiet. Who had tact and grace and such sweetness...

And he had met Newt.

Hermann smiles weakly, runs a petal through his fingers. Newt is indeed brilliant. He is even funny- sometimes deliberately. But as to the rest-

It is madness; he should put this down and close this chapter and this card to the past and- move on, ignore this distraction for the ruin of the present.

But then, he looks at the petals, the scent that had been so offensive in that first card and is so- beguiling, intriguing, on this tiny slip. Maybe- just maybe-

He looks at the clock; it's a quarter to seven.

If he hurries, he could get back to his room, take a shower, get changed into something a little more appropriate...

He can always back out. He tells himself as he walks out of the lab, carrying the card and a clean mug containing the petals and perfume slip. He needs a shower anyway, he thinks as he strips and ducks under the tiny shower stall in his room, lathers himself and the room fills with the scent of roses.

He hasn't worn this suit in ages. Hermann insists firmly, as he takes it off the hanger. It's a bit showy, in grey and powder blue, but it's not good to leave a suit in a wardrobe for years- it's always good to give them an airing.

He steps out into the corridor. The three steps to Newt's door can be excused- it's on the way to the lab, after all-

He hesitates, held outside Newt's door. He can't go any further, can't make that one step to confirm or deny and can only hover between the two, not wanting to make this decision-

It is made for him, and the door opens. Just a crack at first, then jerked open. "Hermann?"

And it's that look. The bright eyes and tentative smile and joy- all for seeing him.

Ten years back, looking at Newt for the first time and wanting - oh so badly wanting- to see that same look in his eyes.

And Newt looking for it back.