That was a yes. That was a yes! A yes--his brilliant, annoying, beautiful nerd/best-friend/labpartner/drift-partner/Hermann said 'yes'!!! Their lives, together-- No. He shouldn't let Hermann do this, he really should insist they go home, because their work was everything, it was how Hermann measured much of his worth and how they would go down in the history books; it was their life's work, their names, their reputations, their success, their fifteen-minutes, their legacy, their everything...
Everything they had ever wanted and they were postponing it. Hermann was postponing his much-deserved glory. Achievements, fame, notoriety and the esteem of their colleagues...pushed back. For Newt. For himself. For the two of them, together, and the chance to continue on as they were: sharing a lab, sharing a bed, sharing a mind and life.
Hermann had picked Newt/them...over his career. The irony was not lost on Newt, even if thinking about his mother wasn't high on his priority list at the moment.
This was love. Sacrifice and compromise and enduring devotion. If it was too fast, too soon, it didn't matter. It was what they both wanted. It might even have been what they wanted from each other--as friends, as colleagues, as confidantes--during those years of letters. And now he had it. He wasn't worthy and he never would be, but he was selfish and he wanted it. No, not it. Not with just anyone. This. Specifically this with this man.
Newt's breath hitched and his skin prickled with excitement, a tingle rising deep within his nerves like he was standing too close to an electrical current, and he should savor this moment for as long as he could tether himself back enough to do so--but despite his flair for the dramatic, Newt had no patience. His energy easily overwhelmed his ability to make words form and he melted into the breath of space between them to kiss Hermann.
no subject
Everything they had ever wanted and they were postponing it. Hermann was postponing his much-deserved glory. Achievements, fame, notoriety and the esteem of their colleagues...pushed back. For Newt. For himself. For the two of them, together, and the chance to continue on as they were: sharing a lab, sharing a bed, sharing a mind and life.
Hermann had picked Newt/them...over his career. The irony was not lost on Newt, even if thinking about his mother wasn't high on his priority list at the moment.
This was love. Sacrifice and compromise and enduring devotion. If it was too fast, too soon, it didn't matter. It was what they both wanted. It might even have been what they wanted from each other--as friends, as colleagues, as confidantes--during those years of letters. And now he had it. He wasn't worthy and he never would be, but he was selfish and he wanted it. No, not it. Not with just anyone. This. Specifically this with this man.
Newt's breath hitched and his skin prickled with excitement, a tingle rising deep within his nerves like he was standing too close to an electrical current, and he should savor this moment for as long as he could tether himself back enough to do so--but despite his flair for the dramatic, Newt had no patience. His energy easily overwhelmed his ability to make words form and he melted into the breath of space between them to kiss Hermann.