driftsintobuffetline | random loose threads

[It's sweet in a way, the way that Newton wants to make this work, to cater more to his desires, but it's also terribly nerve-wracking]

I was a different person in college, Newton.

[Before he'd had to consider his disease, before the war started and it disabled him. He hasn't exactly had much time or inclinations for such indulgences since, let alone rediscovery. Until now of course. He fidgets, mind coming up blank]

My only complaint really is that I can't be rougher with you, but that's something neither of us can help.

[Newt is regrettably an all or nothing kind of guy and he's moderately worried that if he is given the chance, he will take take take. Why he's worried, he doesn't know. Hermann's always let him get away with a lot of shit, but he's always kept Newt in check.]

Fair enough. And let's be honest, because this exercise is pointless if I'm not, but I wouldn't mind you being a little rougher, either. I like you a little mean.

Anyway, I'm working on that, the blood thing, not for sex specifically, but because I'd like you and Liebling to be immune in case something happens. But immunity to poison is usually gained through mild, gradual exposure and so I'm hesitant to actually ...have you do that.

[It's an eternal concern and preoccupation, to avoid even accidentally drawing Newton's blood in any form because going catatonic is not what anyone would call a desired outcome. So he's careful and avoids scratching Newton, works him open slowly and with gloves, and doesn't apply anything but the lightest suction to the man's skin. He generally compensates for that viscous streak by being rather physically demanding and tugging, pushing, and pulling Newton as he likes.

It's something to work around while they sort out a solution. More pressingly, if Newton were to ever be injured, he may not be able to so much as touch him. But he's not a biologist and regrettably has left that work to Newton amid the man's other dozen projects. He doesn't know anything about poison immunity and only really understands how vaccines work, which sounds similar.

And extremely dangerous. If it wasn't Newton, he wouldn't even be considering it]

Of course. Well I certainly wouldn't want to use Leibling as our test subject. Have you had any progress with your mice?

[The level of safe-sex required for Hermann's survival is absurd and sometimes frustrating--it's like having a disease. But it's the second thought, that his own minor injury could mean Hermann can't touch him, that he could bleed and KILL surrounding victims, that scares him most. It is too full of variables. It's something he cannot properly prepare for or prevent, no matter how well they plan.]

No. And I mean, there's no sure way to know MY toxin will be something you can build up immunity to. It's mostly a theory. I think snake tamers do it, but depending on how the body processes the toxin, we could just be talking about building up a bunch of that junk in your system and killing you slowly.

I've had some luck with antivenom administered via hypodermic needle after the fact, and maybe that will lead to more. It doesn't solve anything now, but... [A sigh. He leans into Hermann's shoulder.] ...sometimes I just think, you know, a power-suppressor isn't a bad idea.

Yes, I know.

[It's the most obvious solution, and would be ideal if it would only affect Newton's toxicity. But they have the drift to consider.]

Well it may not be immunity, but an antivenom is still significant progress in the case of accidental contact.

[Which does make it sound like Newton has some sort of contagious disease. And carrying around a bunch of needles just in case hardly sounds convenient.

Hermann presses a kiss to the top of Newton's head]

We could do more research into it. If we understand how the power suppressors function, we could learn how to apply it in different and less permanent forms. And possibly even counteract that effect should the need arise.

I am never going to tire of you saying you don't want me to just flat-out neutralize my side of everything. [He kisses Hermann's shoulder because he's comfortable, curled up like this and doesn't want to move.]

Maybe I can make a power-specific suppressor. Since neutralizing the blood in me isn't going to work and immunization isn't working. I'd like to stop worrying about bloody noses and papercuts.

Of course I don't. If you decided to do that, then I may as well go along with it. Working through an incomplete Drift is an experience I'd rather not repeat.

[But he's also grown used to his abilities and would be more reluctant to part with them. Hermann loops an arm behind Newton's back, fingers curling about his shoulder. Comfortable- yes, as his lingering nerves settle]

But I wouldn't abandon the idea for an anti-venom. Develop that for emergencies, then look into a more sophisticated approach perhaps. I know you've already been working on identifying the different biological factors between your abilities.

I'm working on it, yeah. Sometimes I'm just tired of how long scientific discovery takes. Like...we gave ten years of our lives, Hermann, ten years...building giant robots, mapping breaches, and studying alien biology and all it took was the inelegant solution of grabbing a kaiju carcass and riding the motherfucker into the Breach and then detonating a bomb.

[Granted, they needed some of that time to develop the Jaegers and perfect them enough to defeat Kaiju while they worked to find the Breach. And there was politics regarding what they could attempt and could not, especially once detonating a bomb at the Breach DID fail... But. STILL.]

Ten years. [He traces an invisible line down one of Hermann's pantlegs.] What am I missing? Is it really so complicated or am I going to spend years looking for an answer to this, only to find I was missing a single variable that would have made all the difference?

[A sigh.]...This was not what I was going to talk about. We were going to talk about kinky shit and fun stuff and how we should totally reenact every one of those fancomics.

All the lights were off in the apartment, curtains drawn shut to ward off the city lights.

Newt turned on the stars first, in the living-room, letting Hermann's gift from Christmas spread up the chalkboard walls with pinpricks of light. Some brighter than others, some in clusters like nebula and galaxies. As he moved around the room, space reflected onto his tee-shirt, his freckled face and tattooed skin, and shined in his glasses.

He took a sip of the dark wine--Xavier's visiting gift also caught the starlight--and flipped the lightswitch in the hallway.

Changing the bulb had been worth the hassle. Their scribbles on the wall glowed under the black light... Cute little illustrations of Liebling nomming on a Kaiju and notes about theories, math, recipes... But the real star of the evening was the almost magical glow on Newt's left hand. The blue stones were the EXACT shade of Kaiju Blue he had studied for years, bright and luminescent, the color of a Kaiju preparing an attack, a Kaiju as a Jaeger's blade slices into it, their beauty and their threat. The inlaid diamonds also faintly glowed with a surprising blue hue and Newt turned his hand over, admiring the sparkle this way and that, raised his hand towards the light on the ceiling, a smile of wonder in his eyes.

The ring was so much better than perfect.

Stars lit up the living room in the dark, and while the projection was something he wouldn't tire of for hours, his main focus was the man walking toward the hallway, and the narrow dark light that came on above him.

Newton's wonder was worth the sum he'd paid for the stone and materials multiple times over. The stone glowed an ominous blue, but it was beautiful in his partner's hands. On his hand- his ring finger specifically.

Hermann cast about for Liebling before shifting his cane forward, and came up to loosely embrace Newton's back. The Drift was so saturated with awe, love, and fondness to he felt ready to burst with it. Just days ago, this man had agreed to marry him and it still floored him to think about- likely would for some time.

"I looked at many diamonds. Blue diamonds as well, but it seems that most often is the case that the fluorescence is brighter with a lower quality stone, and finding both a clear stone with high luminescence was incredibly unlikely. For all I could have searched for one, the effect was altogether dull in comparison."

Hermann kissed the side of his head, resting his arm over Newton's stomach.

"I'm glad you like it."

Newt exhaled a happy sigh and leaned back into the embrace, his arm resting over Hermann's, careful with his wine-glass, but regretting having the drink with every second.

"I love it. I love the lengths you went to for this. I-- Do I have to trade it in for a wedding band? Can't I just wear this forever? Still get married--" Married. Holy cow, he was going to get married. Not only had Hermann agreed to marry him, Hermann had ASKED him. This was real. This was not a test, this was totally real and they were going to fix March 2017 to be what it always should have been: him and Hermann in Anchorage, equals, friends, understanding each other on another level as they had always wanted to--and they were going to overwrite history with their own new story. He was going to hear Hermann say, in front of a crowd of people, that he wanted to spend his life with Newt.

Again.

He would hear Hermann say that again, because Hermann had already pledged it in a video the whole network saw, and that Newt had spent far too long rewatching like it was his favorite movie. They were going to have wedding photos! They were going to be married, honest to goodness married, not just the old married couple shtick they always have had. Hermann would have a ring--he traced the bare finger lovingly where it rested against his stomach--and they would be husbands. This was it.

Newt craned his neck back to brush his lips against Hermann's. "--You know I would have said yes even if you'd picked up a piece of sea-glass off that beach instead."

Hermann smiled and kissed the corner of Newton's lips.

"You likely would have accepted if I'd simply asked," he noted with amusement. "As evidenced by your first proposal."

But he'd wanted a more traditional formality behind the gesture. If Newton had offered him a ring, the matter would have been entirely different.

"But you don't need to trade your engagement ring for a wedding band. You could wear them both if you'd like."

Hermann reached up and teased the wine glass from Newton's fingers. Taking a step back, he raised the glass and drank the rest himself. He made a face in the light, shuddering a moment, then ported the glass elsewhere. All that just to twine their fingers together. He cleared his throat and tipped his head against Newton's.

"Mmn better savored, but liquids don't teleport well."

When Newton suggested a date, Hermann was suddenly aware he had a fair bit of work to do. Work that would take him out of Newton's immediate visual range for several hours. That alone was almost enough to ask to reschedule, or even just go along and schedule another date for a week later, but on the other hand, he really wanted to surprise his 'date'.

So he took his phone and texted an entire conversation with Newton while he worked, reassuring him he'd 'be home' in time for them to go out again.

Though he barely made it, it was still with a wild joy that he pulled up in front of their apartment complex with two minutes to spare. In his own custom sports car, all sleek edges and low-riding suspension, colored a deep maroon.

And wheels.

The whole of it positively screamed IMPORT DRIVER but it was just so beautiful that Hermann could hardly bring himself to care. Oh, he'd missed the feel of the road and the sheer freedom that came with owning a vehicle. He stepped out and circled around to the curb, ghosting his fingers over the glossy painted finish of the spoiler, and placed a call to Newton.

"Yes, you should come down now. Our ride is here."

He hoped all his excitement hadn't already ruined the surprise.

Hermann's excitement was so palpable, Newt wasn't even sure what to make of it. A date was exciting, and it was nice to be welcomed back, but he really didn't think his absence of 5 days was enough to warrant this weird, giddy, beautiful vibe Hermann was giving off.

It made Newt antsy to be away from him for the time it took for Hermann to arrange whatever it was he was working on--FOREVER--it must have been big and important, because it was Hermann who was most worried about being separated. Our ride is here sounded promising. Newt took the stairs, straightened himself at the bottom of the flight, and met him outside the apartment complex.

"Holy--!" He came around the car, eyeing it in awe, running gentle fingers just over the top of one edge, then with a huff of condensation from his breath, buffed out the finger prints left with the soft fabric of his tie. Newt crouched and examined the under-carriage, admired the curves and angles of the body, circled around the car and then peered in at the interior behind the semi tinted windows. "Sweet."

Hermann had outdone himself. She was absolutely gorgeous, like a newly commissioned Jaeger, back when they were rolling out of the assembly with sleek bodies, new paint, and actual funding. Stunning. The Bond car that was Hermann, deep down inside.

He came to a stop on the opposite side of the car from Hermann and grinned at him over the top of the hood. Newt didn't really fancy himself a car buff--and maybe this was a bit of Hermann's personality and interest rubbing off on him--but the car was hot.

"I am having some really inappropriate thoughts right now. Just thought you should know."

Hermann laughed, reveling in Newton's awe and admiration. She was lovely, but his date was an entirely different type of wonderful.

"Of course you are." He smiled over the hood and opened the door to slide into the driver's seat. His cane went into a custom slot built into the door and fit neatly as he pulled it closed.

His fingers ran over the steering wheel again and he spun it just to feel the tires shift smoothly with the movement. Mechanical perfection.

"There are a few small things that aren't completed. Mainly some interface functions and damage proofing, but she's perfectly road worthy now. She's even got legal plates and fully insured."

He pat the dash, then turned to Newton. "Anywhere particular you wanted to go for dinner?"

Newt followed suit and slid into the passenger seat, buckling in. His fingers traced the dash and the gearshift, then wandered over to Hermann's knee to rest comfortably there.

The list of additions Hermann still intended to make caused Newt to laugh. What a NERD. It was nice, though, to be back in a car where they could actually feel the ground underneath when the wheel turned.

"How about that nice Italian place, the really intimate one with the waitress who thinks you're cute?"

The hand on his knee was an old thrill in a new, if possibly distracting way. So long as it didn't get up to too much, he wouldn't have to ban it. Though he did fluster a bit as he fumbled with his seatbelt.

"I swear you think anyone that so much as glances in my direction is attracted to me. But yes, alright, Italian it is."

He put the car in gear and checked the mirrors just in case, then pulled out along the driveway, steering with care around the bends. For all he effectively test drove her before, he still enjoyed the responses to slight shifts of the wheel and presses to the gas and brake.

"Of course, she is hover-capable for any off-road parking or small obstacles we may encounter, and fully functioning."

"Please. She was, like, super attentive." The waitress so did have a crush on Hermann, Newt was convinced of it. And it wasn't just because of the attentiveness. She kept looking at him, like she secretly wanted him to insult her. Newt knew that feeling well. Also, he was pretty sure she took a picture of them he spotted later on a Geislieb fansite.

Of course the car was capable of all that. Was there nothing Hermann didn't think of?

"But what sort of gas mileage does she get?" he teased. "And zero-to-what in how many seconds? How many cup holders, man? You're not answering the important stuff."

"She's a fuel-efficient model with 103 combined mileage per gallon, and capable of accelerating 0-60 in 2.5 seconds. Six beverage holders if you must know, and two trays. Of course, the trays with two extra holders only fold out as necessary."

He hit a button on his door at a light, and a black flat surface emerged from above the glove compartment, complete with a small circular indent for a can or bottle.

"I'll have to remember to store a wealth of napkins and cleaner somewhere, as I rather imagine we'll be eating fast food a bit more often now."

He was not a car person and definitely not into them THAT way, but there was something kind of sexy about all the little add ons Hermann had installed and the way the tray seamlessly disappeared into the dash. It was sleek in the way the Jaegers were, their wartime equipment wasn't, and Newt loved it.

He was getting bothered over a car--Hermann's car, but a car. How dumb.

"I rather imagine you'll need cleaning supplies for more than just that," he murmured, retracting the tray back to its hidden position. Then, he reached for the middle console of the dash to explore the radio options, changes stations obnoxiously until he found something loud, regardless of genre.

Hermann rolled his eyes but was still smiling when he turned at the next light. Up until his eardrums reminded him that yes, his car was also equipped with a powerful stereo system.

He glared and sighed under the awful music, then reached over a moment to turn the volume down considerably.

"If you please, I was going to tell you about how the front seats can fold down and provide more room in the back of the car. And I'm sure you've noticed the windows are tinted."

"...You kinky bastard," he grinned and strained his shoulder-strap out so that he could stretch around to look behind at the seats and the amount of space potentially available. "I'm beginning to think I shouldn't have ever gotten in this car with you, Dr. Gottlieb. You've had an agenda from the start, clearly. Only thing you're missing is a shag carpet and then you'd totally have a love-mobile."

Newt settled back into his seat and let out a low whistle and a breathy laugh. "Wow, dude. Confession: I almost feel out of my league here. Like I'm dating the millionaire playboy. I'm supposed to be the rockstar taking you in overpriced cars to dine in nice restaurants. Or fast food joints. Whatever. This is hilarious. Fantastic, but hilarious."

"Millionaire playboy," Hermann half-laughed, smiling out at traffic and waiting for the light to change. "Really now. Just because I can anticipate requiring more room in the back at some point in the future." Though really, why else would they ever need the front seats down?

The light changed and he focused on making it through the intersection unscathed.

"While I'm certainly not either of those things, it's well enough that I can both surprise and delight you at points. About as close to 'rockstar' as I'm likely to get."

He laughed with Hermann. Must you roll those r's so wickedly, dude?

Newt reached over initially to flick Hermann's ear or something equally obnoxious and changed his mind before completing the gesture, instead, skimming the back of his fingers against the side of Hermann's cheek and over his ear, almost as if tucking hair behind it. The cool metal of his ring brushed Hermann's skin before Newt settled his hand against the top edge of the driver's seat backrest, just behind Hermann's head.

Hermann looked gorgeous in the reflection of streetlights on the clean glass of his car, with the gentle glow of the dash in front of him--all angles and yet with a softness...like a performer on stage--and if Newt was staring a little too long, well too fucking bad.

Finally, he broke the spell and shrugged. "...If you let me put you in leather pants, that'd be a little more rockstar."

He wished he didn't have to keep his eyes on the road. All he could manage was a quick smile in response to the sweetness of Newton's touch. Really, once they were parked he'd have to kiss him for it.

"Unfortunately, I highly doubt leather pants would look particularly flattering on me. I'm much too thin." Not to mention they'd probably be uncomfortable but he'd let Newton entertain the notion.

"There, look on the GPS to make sure I have the correct address, I'm not wearing my glasses and I haven't programmed any speech capabilities yet."

random loose threads

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June 2016. IDK exactly

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July 27th, 2016

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