Hermann hurried across the rain-slicked courtyard, shoulders hunched against the wind. Fortunately the building's lobby entry code hadn't changed, and soon enough, exhausted and chilled to the bone, he was able to darken Newt’s doorstep once more.  He jabbed the buzzer before he could lose his nerve, and listened for the digital chime from within.  In the silence that followed, he tried to centre himself with some square breathing. Four in. Hold for four. Four out. Hold for four.  His heart thundered in his chest, but he focused particularly on the small, ordinary things, like the calming scent of what smelled like almond cookies coming from across the hall. The greasy takeout bag stain left on Newt’s novelty Kaiju Crossing doormat. His reflection on the keyless entry number pad.  Almond cookies. Grease stain. Number pad— just let him be home. if he's home, i can make everything alright…  But standing there in this unfamiliar hallway, in the shadow of the new Newton’s world, Hermann felt wrong. Out of place. Unwelcome. It hadn't taken long after their last encounter to deduce that Hannibal Chau was likely the benefactor behind this extravagance and luxury, which raised a troubling question: What, exactly, did Newt have to offer that warranted a deluxe condo in Deep Water Bay?  surely it can't just be that—it couldn't only be that … could it? His fingers tightened around the glass bottle neck again. Almond cookies. Grease stain. Number pad.   Just as he began to second-guess himself, the front door jerked open with a rattle.  "Oh!"  Hermann stumbled back as a short figure wearing tinted glasses stuck his head through the gap. “Well, well,” Newt whistled with a tart smile. “Look what the Kaiju dragged in.” There could be no turning back from now on. 

GIF by jadon-geiszler

Why hadn't Hermann just let him talk about the fucking kiss that day? Why had he waited until it was already too late?! Why couldn’t he have just spit it out!?  but what about me?! He was sure Hermann had feelings for him. But with each day, Newt's grip on reality weakened. The headaches grew worse, the nosebleeds more common, and the craving was eating him alive— why couldn't i just fucking control myself for once?! why do I give in to every stupid fucking impulse—why didn't I fight harder?! what the fuck is wrong with me?! god, why did I do this?!  The mantra of self-hatred spiralled, tightening around his frenzied mind like a noose.  useless, stupid, fucking idiot. broken piece of shit. I'm the worst, the fucking worst, just fucking— —give up!!! Something… snapped. A fragile line somewhere deep in his psyche gave way.  It was like the floor had dropped out from beneath him, and he was falling into something vast and dark and endless, the red haze fading into emptiness.  For several glorious seconds, Newton Geiszler felt absolutely nothing at all. His racing heart slowed.  In the quiet of that bottomless void, he heard something—or felt it.  Not a voice, but an idea.  A whisper.  A push. And as soon as he accepted it, the pain inside his head receded, peeling away like the tide pulling from the shore. The relief was immediate. Consuming. It washed through him in a cool wave, leaving behind a strange, heavy stillness.  “…Oh,” he gently sighed. 

Finally, Newt broke the silence. Still clutching the bloody handkerchief to his nose, he exhaled slowly.  “Hermann… I'm tired.”  The older man straightened his back, but sank down onto his knees beside him, giving him his full, wearied attention. “…I know.” “...It's like just thinking about you gives me a fucking migraine these days.” Newt set Hermann's empty bottle down with a dull thunk, holding his head in his hands for a moment. “You just… couldn't be normal about anything, could you? Nothing could be simple, huh?”  It stung. “...‘Normal’ and ‘simple’ are not terms people use to describe me,” Hermann mumbled, immediately regretting it, but to his surprise Newt glanced up with an amused huff. Emboldened, Hermann cautiously reached out to place a hand on Newt’s shoulder.  Newt swatted it away at once, his eyes narrowed. “Don’t. Don’t, dude,” he hissed, blocking Hermann off from further contact with a raised arm—a ward. “Ah—I'm sorry…!” “I’ve got too fuckin’ much on my mind right now!” Newt exclaimed, his voice cracking under the weight of his exhaustion. “I only—” “—like, alright, maybe I have been avoiding you, fine, you got me. But you know why? It’s ‘cause I don't need more fuckin’ drama from you on top of everything else!” Despite the sting of the rejection, and the words that followed, and Hermann knowing he was to blame for some of Newt's suffering, there was… such a strange pang of relief. “I understand, a little… I think. The apartment… the job offers, the interviews,” he sympathised, his rich, dark eyes daring to lift upwards again. At last, he remembered the smouldering cigarette between his fingers, and quickly brought it back to his lips. “The nightmares, too, I'd wager…” Newt's icy glare could have lowered the temperature in the room .  “Righto. And where’re we going with this, Dr. Freud?” he scoffed, tendons pulsing in the hand that held his handkerchief.  Warily, Hermann sighed a cloud of smoke up towards the vent, his heart still pounding sickly in his chest.  “I never wanted any drama between us,” he explained. “But still, I made a few mistakes...”

The stained handkerchief fell from Hermann's mind until after they were in an old cab and finally heading back home. He jolted suddenly, stirring them from their comfortable reverie. «I just remembered!! I, I m-meant to give this back to you… after that time,» he apologised in their native German, pressing the rag into his companion’s hand. «Sorry, it's… uh…» Newt seemed quite caught off guard, but when he finally reacted, he laughed, and it was soft and warm. “Danke, Herms." Hermann let out a smiling breath in relief and leaned back in his seat. Orange street lights glided across his face and lap in a soothing rhythm as they passed beneath them, and he squinted up into each electric halo as it flew across the sky. He had finally returned the handkerchief, and Newton hadn’t minded at all… how his heart burned in his chest at the thought. It actually took him a moment to realise that he was happy. such a perfect night… if this is a dream, let me sleep, because reality could not compare… He remained fixated upon the faded dusting of freckles on Newt’s cheeks for a while, that youthful complexion contrasting so cleanly with the creases of age that had also begun to appear in the corners of his eyes and mouth. The man looked tired, and a little drunk, but happy. His presence anchored Hermann, grounding him amidst the lingering dizziness and fatigue. Despite the more embarrassing aspects of the evening, there was a new warmth between them that hadn't been there before. Things were different, but in a way that felt like coming home — it was the most natural thing in the world for Hermann to then lean his head upon Newt's shoulder, and soon felt the weight of the night and the alcohol pulling his eyes closed. Soon enough, he found that Newt had seen him safely all the way to his doorstep in the K-Science dormitories. Amazing… before today, Hermann would never have guessed Newton Geiszler possessed a chivalrous bone in his body, but today had already been so full of surprises. Frankly, this was the least of them. Still so drunk and dazzled, Hermann had not only missed the cue to say goodnight, but wound up tripping right into Newt’s arms. s-so soft… sturdy… Newt caught him with ease. His old band sweatshirt smelled like cigarettes, body spray, and sweat, and Hermann couldn’t stop himself from breathing it in deeply as he gazed up at him with wide, dark eyes, enamoured. Newt had been his very first kiss with another man, after all, and the thought filled him with joy. It was him. What else could he do but thank him? Maybe it wasn't exactly normal to say, but it had felt right, and Newton's response had delighted him all the same: “ — my pleasure! maybe we could… even do it again sometime, heh~" Because all Hermann wanted in the world was to keep this plucky little biologist in his arms and kiss him until the Sun burnt out, and ever after.