driftsintobuffetline | random loose threads

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random loose threads

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2016
January 29 - Returning from Submarining
February 13 - What are you thoughts on MARRIAGE?
February 16 - Day 1, Soviet Occupied Import Cities
March 12 - They were supposed to talk about Miles and Greg, but talked about themselves instead
April 14th - Kinks, Tatts, and Power Suppression
June - Admiring the Ring
July 27 - Hermann's New Car
After the Kaiju Test - Need a New Apartment

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After Newt returns from ~~war~~ the submarine kidnapping.

Peace would be nice. I was getting kind of fond of peace.

[Newt stops just outside the doors of Starktech and looks up at the sky, out at the landscaping, at the cars and the birds and the city and the bustle of life. He had started to take it for granted again--peace, life, the world untarnished by Kaiju. Nine days with just a cell and other captives is a good reminder of how quickly life-as-you-know-it can disappear. He remembers vividly, holding Hermann after Mako vanished, the terrible, horrible feeling of 'at least they didn't take Hermann from me' and the realization that Hermann is life-as-Newt-knows-it.]

Come on, Herm. Let's go home.

Edited 2016-02-04 07:16 (UTC)

Yes, alright.

[Home. No longer a silent apartment and an empty bed. It's the warmth of that statement and the returning hope that makes him wish he had a free hand to join with Newton's. Together in everything as they should be.

He considers attempting to send the laptop home, but as he expected, they don't have ten minutes. The cab pulls up in but a few and Hermann stands back to wait for Newton to open it as it's become customary. He could manage of course, but he'll hardly dissuade the man from thoughtful gestures.

The laptop goes on the seat, his cane propped just inside the door, and he can finally offer a hand to Newton once they're both settled in. Hermann instructs the driver to the apartments and leaning back, lets the tension drain from his body. It's an almost unbelievable relief just to have a solid, physical connection to Newton again.]

I am never going to let that happen again.

[ His hand firmly in Hermann's hold now, he thinks of how many times they've sat together in the back of a taxi since they've arrived in this world, how many arguments and companionable conversations, kisses and tears and shouting... but this is the first reunion. And hopefully only, Newt thinks, though there is one glaring issue to that wish. Instead, he will just hope every parting ends in another reunion because this is infinitely better than the alternative.

He almost asks 'what?' to be contrary or out of habit or what exactly, he's not sure. But he doesn't have to ask what. He's pretty sure he knows. There's so much conviction in that voice, laced with so much underlying pain, but Newt can't help arguing.]

That's all well and good, Hermann, but we didn't have a choice.

Yes, I'm very well aware of that.

[Because of course he is. It's obvious that none of them- but especially Newton- would never have chosen captivity. Knows his conviction flies in the face of false hope and isn't particularly logical.

But he still wants it. Wants it badly enough that he's willing to force into a reality with whatever means he has available to him- and perhaps even those he doesn't]

What I disliked most wasn't the distance, but the fact I couldn't find you. I knew that if only I had the coordinates, I could.. [He shakes his head] I... I searched Siberian landscapes, wrote countless formulas, gathered data on every base I found and scoured Russian coastlines, then began speculating on the Arctic. I never.. you were in Antarctica, Newton. It would have been the very last place I..

[Helplessness, despair, and with an overarching sense of failure, his fingers tighten around Newton's] Suffice to say it was.. very frustrating.

[ He doesn't say that he thought, however briefly, of Antarctica, because it wouldn't do them any good now. He had thought about it, but he'd also considered they could have been in the Pacific somewhere, the Arctic. Anywhere. He'd even, very very briefly (because he liked pet theories like that), contemplated that they weren't even with Russians. That they were maybe tucked away in a Great Lake, with Americans pretending to be Russians to incite something more political than he was able to comprehend at the time.

Hermann's words give him an idea, one he doesn't really want to voice until he has confirmation that it can and will be able to happen, because he doesn't want to give Hermann false hope. But he thinks he'll have to talk to a certain genius about nanotech. Hell, Newt would microchip himself like a damn dog if he thought it would stay.

But the heartbreak and failure seeping into him from Hermann across their connection is too much and he can't keep his mouth shut. Newt squeezes his hand back.]

I'll figure someth--We'll figure something out. Look, we'll find something that works. And keep trying until we find it. There has to be these...frustrations to incite change! 'Necessity is the mother of invention,' right? The necessity has been addressed, so we'll invent the necessary solution. You did everything you could with what you had, Hermann. Listen to me, Hermann: you. did. everything. you. could. This has always been a two-man job, right? K-science has always been this, us, two complimentary sides--three, really, if you want to include the Jaegers--but! But the point is! Your math can work miracles, but it has always been up to me [begrudging aside] (and the Jaegers) to get you that data. I failed you on that here, but I am going to make this work now, Hermann. I'm going to make sure you have your data.

Newt kicked the door closed, tossed his jacket down on the arm of the sofa and then followed it with the shopping bags (more jeans, shut up, Hermann) onto the seat.

"Wow, dude," he blabbered on at Hermann as Newt moved around the living room, kicked a cat toy out of the way and watched Liebling chase it until it stopped and she decided it held no further entertainment for her. "So, okay, sorry I'm late, but you would not believe the lines. I swear, the mall was like Christmas season again, holy shit. But I got a really good sale on the razor--like you'd even approve--and the jeans weren't so bad either, so it was worth it, but man. Glad I had no reason to go near the Bath-and-whatever store or Victoria's Secret, because those looked like nightmares." He had wandered to the kitchen and returned with a glass of juice. "And the jewelry stores! Shit. You'd think everybody in De Chima was proposing tomorrow."

Newt let the phrase hang there in the silence of his pause for a moment, knowing he was probably approaching this very heavy-handedly, but while very creative, he often knew of no other way to tackle things except head-on and with little finesse... even if that really amounted to sticking his whole hand in a boiling pot of water to test the temperature.

He took a sip, then went on. "I always thought if I got married, I'd probably do something dumb and rockstarish like go to Vegas. What about you?" he asked as he hunted down a coaster before Hermann killed him for using a magazine like an uncultured swine, or--heaven forbid--used no coaster at all. "You ever thought about it?"

Edited 2016-02-06 08:11 (UTC)

Admittedly the crowds were most of the reason Hermann didn't go along with Newton. That and it was good to reaffirm that they didn't always need to go everywhere together even in the wake of Newton's recent kidnapping. But he dealt with that quiet fear by working on one of his many pet projects.

Hermann made sympathetic noises throughout Newton's explanation and barely looked away from his screen until the phrase 'I got married' successfully brought all of his thought processes to a screeching halt. Rewind.

If. He said if. With heavy emphasis.

Hermann closed his laptop and set it down, leaned back and peered at the lenses of his glasses. Somewhere between Newton coming through the door and returning from the kitchen, the conversational tone had changed.

"What- married on the whim of inebriation? Certainly not."

"Of course you wouldn't." Hermann was doing a very good impression of a sexy, stern librarian with those damn glasses on, but Newt was totally going to focus and pull through this conversation. He was not going to think about taking those glasses off carefully and kissing that prissy, thin, down-turned mouth.

"I'm just saying if you did--got married, I mean, not specifically in Vegas and not specifically inebriated..." After taking another drink, he set down his glass again with a smack of his lips. "Which, by the way, I did not actually say would be my state-of-mind, no matter what the cliche image of a Vegas wedding is--if you got married, how did you picture it? Some straight-forward, cut and dry, go to the clerk's office and sign a certificate and you're done? Or didn't what? Or nothing? Marriage is maybe just not mathematical enough?"

Hermann winced, but at least the man had the sensibility to find a coaster, even if his table manners would forever be lacking. There was only so much one person could do.

Upon finding no smudge on his glasses, he returned them to his face and fixed Newton with an assessing stare. The conversation felt contrived somehow, the queries much too pointed, and his heart leapt ahead of itself with those implications. He took a breath, muddling through waters that told him not to brush this off despite the discomfiting nature of this conversation.

He came very close to simply asking what the point of the question was.

But Newton was already assuming an utter lack of interest, and it was times like this (like with the car, about sex and now marriage) that it felt like Newton didn't know him at all. How boring he must seem to someone as vibrant and energetic and daring as Newton.

Hermann frowned.

"No, I- if I were to ever marry, I'd always thought about something rather elaborate. I'd prefer to do so only once, after all. I suppose I am something of a traditionalist in that sense. But I believe anything less would seem insincere, and I am very good at planning. It would be one of the few ways I'd be able to showcase everything I'm sure I would otherwise fail to openly express."

Like what Joaquin said: Don't you think it would be nice to have that kind of symbolism? To have some way of showing others that, hey, you care about someone and they chose to care about you back just as much... Yes, yes he did. But he wasn't allowed to talk about the Drift, which was by far the most loving, momentous gesture anyone ever had made for Newt. The line on the floor was had been annoyance, once, and despising, and was now a symbol of fondness. The chalkboards on their walls, also, affection. The kiss on New Years. But the only ones he could show off were the ones Newt himself had put into their shared space or initiated. Hermann, while justified, had said no to the discussion of the Drift and so the greatest gesture of friendship and love that Hermann had ever given Newt went into a box and got spoken of only in private conversations with trusted few and almost always scientifically.

He couldn't show it off. He couldn't wave it in front of people and brag and say 'Hermann did this for me!'

And Newt knew this next thought was bullshit, but that didn't stop his brain from thinking: Maybe Hermann just doesn't want people to KNOW what we mean to each other. Lately, he had even stopped letting Newt play the game of 'let people believe we're married' which was fine. Newt had just wanted to get someone to genuinely believe it. The thought tickled him immensely and he thought it'd be a lot of fun for someone to ask Hermann out of the blue someday how his 'husband' was doing (and he wanted to hear it, and watch Hermann sputter and blush).

Sometimes, Newt had wondered if he was being too hopeful, if he was lying to himself. But Hermann was still here and that steady presence was love and devotion embodied and he knew that, really. The promises were between just the two of them. So this...intrigued him. Hermann never stopped surprising him.

Newt scooted forward, drink forgotten, his interest on Hermann. "And after the wedding? I mean, after that all cools down and the honeymoon has worn off?"

Some nameless feeling stole over Hermann, a sense of distance and insecurity that prompted him to fold one of Newton's hands into his. He knew he was terrible at romantic expression, that he had an excessively difficult time forcing silly affectionate thoughts into verbal sentiments. Knew that Newton must often feel under appreciated because of his unwillingness to be vulnerable. And one day it might not be enough anymore, even with the drift.

A self-fulfilling prophecy if ever there was one.

His shoulders hunched and Hermann stared at their hands, thumb tracing over Newton's pinky and brushing over his wrist. After marriage..? Just what was Newton fishing for?

"I don't know, Newton. I try not to think about how difficult it would be to be married to me. My disease will progress and I will deteriorate." Not exactly the blissful future most envisioned after marriage. Hermann studied the patterns of color staining Newton's wrist with far more focus than they warranted. The pang of sadness faded and he managed to keep his voice steady.

"Then I start thinking that perhaps it's best that I don't, that I simply retire back to Germany because I don't know how long I could handle burdening the person I loved most, let alone any children."

Edited 2016-02-07 02:24 (UTC)

Children. Something icy and fearful ran through his veins and he glanced over to find Liebling cleaning herself on the cushion they had finally forfeited to her. Newt looked down at their joined hands and tried to be brave, tried to remember he had a shot.

"We all deteriorate, Hermann. It's called aging. Sometimes the unexpected happens, too, like someone gets hit by a car. But when you sign on to marry another person, I don't know, I think you're supposed to read the terms-of-service and check the box that says 'in sickness and in health' and then 'I do' and so, I mean--" He shrugged. Newt knew what he meant; he didn't know if Hermann knew what he meant, but he hoped it was clear. "It's supposed to be kind of a contract, you know. Or not a contract, that sounds too legal. A pact. A, uh, handshake."

He was starting to feel nervous and sad and a little ill in his stomach from worry knotting it up and, emotionally, it was hard to tell who began and ended where. He decided to go for broke. "Where are we going to live in Germany?"

Hermann stared.

Finally looked away from their hands to Newton's expression and tried to piece together what was going on in the man's head. Rarely an easy endeavor, even with the drift cluing him into his emotions. Of which there were always many, and all hopelessly tangled with his own.

Was that what he was after? Gauging his interest in marriage to forecast where he fit into his future? Well he didn't exactly give him a wonderful picture, but he'd never been an optimist. He would deteriorate at an accelerated pace and likely experience the health complications of a man twenty years older than himself. Who knew when he'd stop walking?

Admittedly, marriage had always been an unlikely prospect.

But he'd thought about it not long ago. While Newton was in captivity and he'd spent those lonely nights tossing and hating the emptiness of his own being. Thought about how desperately he never wanted to live like that again when he returned and realized it meant that not only was he inescapably bound to Newton, that he didn't want anything less. But was that real, or just impressions leftover from a silent drift?

Suddenly he held a much higher respect for Raleigh Becket.

Germany.

Like Newton expected to go with him. Which of course he did. They were in a relationship now with no plans to separate. So if neither of them ever married, they'd both retire? Newton wanted to look after him, even in the later stages of his disease? Or was he perhaps hoping there was a future wherein they married one another? Which version of reality were they even discussing?

Hermann didn't have answers for any of it, only questions of his own. He raised a gentle hand to Newton's face, brushing over the stubble across his jaw and tipped his chin up.

"I always imagined my home town.. I loved it as a child, and my visit last year was a reminder of just how much I've missed it. But it wouldn't be pleasant for you. I'll lose my mobility and independence, perhaps even lose my mind." And it was that last possibility that frightened him most. Without his mind, all that was left would be nothing more than a shell of who he had been.

"Are you telling me you'd stay through all of that? You, a person that can't wait ten minutes for water to boil properly."

Water. God, Hermann, was that what you thought of him?

"I'd be shit as a caretaker, okay? Is that what you'd like me to admit, because I do realize that, Hermann." Newt leaned into that gentle touch. "But I also have no interest in or commitment to a boiling pan of water and I hope you realize that you're NOT that, you're a human being, one that I have a great deal of love and respect for and if you think I'd leave you to just some nurse or to wallow away in loneliness and self-pity, then you've got it all wrong. Look, I'm not saying I'd be perfect. I'm not; we both know that."

Caretaker was not a role Newt had ever envisioned for himself. He was terrible at sympathy, had no patience, had poor compassion. He knew what MS could do to a person, had known for a long time. But he wanted to make sure there was someone who loved Hermann, cared for him, could put up with his crap because Hermann was an asshole sometimes. He wanted to be that person, not because it was noble or right, or because Hermann deserved that (Hermann deserved better than Newt could ever offer), but because he wanted to be that person simply because he loved Hermann.

He loved him. More than Newt had ever even realized possible. He'd never really understood romantic love before, or marriage. Sex obviously trumped whatever marriage meant, or his parents wouldn't have bailed on theirs for each other. And yet sex could only go so far because Monica bailed on his dad when Newt came into the picture. What he had with Hermann wasn't about sex or romance. His heart felt ready to burst when he was around the man; he wanted Hermann, adored him, fancied him, was turned on by him in every conceivable way (mentally, physically, emotionally...). So essential to his life was Hermann Gottlieb that Drift or no Drift, Newt could physically feel the withdrawals from him on the sub. Hermann was everything. Newt wanted to see him each day, to talk to him, share ideas, and even if such happiness was doled out in snippets of time between bed pans and medication, and eventually lost all together, he would rather lose Hermann slowly over years than to ever cut it off with him again. They were partners.

There was nothing beautiful about leaving to preserve some perfect mental image of Hermann. Hermann was imperfect from the beginning. But he was still everything.

"But I can't--won't live without you." His energy was restless and Newt wrung his hands and fidgeted with Hermann's vest. "You know that. I know it's not going to be glamorous. Or easy. Or ideal. I promised in August that I'd fight it with you, and that continues to be my goal, but even if we can't, if we're losing--I'm here with you. I'm telling you, yes, Hermann. I'd stay, to help if you want me to, or just to stay. I'm staying."

"Newton..."

Newton's love continued to astound him. How could one person possess such passionate emotions? And then choose to direct them at him of all people. Whereas he struggled to express all of his own and felt like he was constantly scrambling to catch up.

Everything with Newton was fast-paced and bordered on overwhelming. Even a confession of this magnitude, promising endless devotion in the face of the bleak future painted for them was too fast. It was.. it was essentially a wedding vow. Every word of it spoken with such a sincere compassion that he could see it.

Newton dressed in white, Newton's presence behind him as he pushed him along a slight valley road, sniping back and forth in a warm spring wind. Closed in during the winters, wracked with cold and snappish, but their bed was soft and warm and comfortable.

His eyes brimmed and Hermann suddenly knew with startling clarity that he was never going to marry anyone else. Like always, it was nothing he could verbally express, but this time more because his throat was stuck closed and would give way to ugly sobs the moment he tried to speak. It was bad enough that quiet tears spilled over when he was finally forced to blink.

Hermann pulled Newton in close, clinging to him with shaking hands, and drew in a ragged breath as he did so.

Never leave me, never leave me. I love you, Newton, I do.

Vague impressions--memories? no, not memories...--of Germany danced through his head. Them. The two of them, together, in a life that was not perfect, but was beautiful because they were together and he half-laughed, half-cried as he had the thought of himself in white and wanted to argue that'd be Hermann--but no, no that was perfect, yes, Newt would be in white because it was Hermann's dream wedding and Hermann was good at planning and--

I love you, too. And I try to stop doubting.

His voice was surprisingly soft for Newt. "Hey, dude, it's okay. It's okay." He kissed Hermann's cheek. "We can take our time here. We have lots of time. We have a lot of time and I am still going to do take you on all sorts of dates and it'll be awesome."

And then, because Newt had trouble with stopping his mouth once the words started, he added, "Just pretend I wasn't super cheesy and didn't do this around Valentine's Day? Just, I couldn't get it out of my head and I had been meaning to ask you and then there was this guy on the phone talking about the ring he bought and I thought of this again and I thought I could be subtle enough--I know it's only been two months and that's what I told Joaquin and Hiro..."

You don't know that, he wanted to argue- would have argued if he had the voice for it. We're only living on borrowed time.

But that was this reality, not theirs. They had time, they did. He just hoped it wouldn't take them too much longer to sort themselves out there. They'd live in this reality until then, where his disease was at least temporarily halted and their happiness could stretch for longer.

And he'd marry him.

Yes, he would marry Newton Geiszler in this reality if no other, because he simply had every reason to. Hermann smiled against Newton's shoulder and let him ramble, felt the sting in his eyes lessen and his breaths come more easily. Yes, they'd date more first, and while it wasn't a proposal, it all came so close that it may as well be a promise of engagement.

Then what if this war ended? What if Lachesis volunteered to send them back? His decision on the matter was settled. His fingers tangled into Newton's hair and rubbed his scalp.

"I'll stay," he whispered, voice rough, and cleared his throat. "I'll stay, Newton."

Stay? Holy- Was he offering what Newt thought he was offering? This was almost as show-stopping as the offer to Drift, because, while it wasn't Newt's life being saved (it was Hermann's, in a way, or prolonged, hopefully, at the very least), Hermann was still offering to forfeit so much for something Newt sort of had always known he wanted, wasn't sure he had ever fully expressed, and wasn't sure he should want. But here they were. And, like the Drift, the offer felt like an I love you and a We're in this together and I need you in my life, too.

Newt pulled back, worrying his lower lip as he considered Hermann's face with his own wide-eyed, uncertain, shocked and pleased expression all at once.

"B-but what about the Breach, your work...uh, everything?!" There was less for Newt back home; the Kaiju were gone and the Breach was closed. But Hermann had wanted to go home, he still had work to do, had a purpose and a dedication to the cause, so Newt had long ago all but decided that was where he would go when the time came--if it ever was a choice. "Are you sure?" he asked, a hopeful smile pulling across his face. He repeated, just to be sure, a little louder, a little too excited, giddy at the prospect, "Are you sure? You would do that for me--for yourself--" The awkward, crooked grin grew, brows raised, and a blush drew over his cheeks as he gave a nervous laugh. "--for us?"

He let him go, hand dropping from Newton's hair to his shoulder and searched those green eyes with his own.

His work. His life's work. Newton's would soon be finished, whereas his own had only just started with the end of the war. So much more data he needed to analyze, readings to interpret, different angles to pursue the nature of the Breach from. Calculating the probability of another, publishing years of research- work that would win him global scientific recognition.

He didn't have any of that here.

Projects certainly, but no groundbreaking corner of scientific advancement that hadn't already been discovered. Not with highly developed AIs, inter-dimensional and advanced space travel already prominent concepts among the imPort community. Oh, he'd still work it all out for himself eventually, but the chances of contributing new information.. No, he needed a new branch of study altogether.

Perhaps he'd still never achieve that level of recognition here, but if ever faced with the choice, his ambitions weren't worth everything he'd lose to achieve them.

And in the end, all that encompassed more than either one of them. His palm cradled the side of Newton's neck.

"Yes, I'm sure." And he was. Certain of this decision as he had been when he'd volunteered to drift. "My work can wait, for once. I would much rather enjoy this world for as long as we have it."

Hermann leaned in then, breaths ghosting over Newton's lips. "For us, Newton."

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.

The thrill rose within Hermann and he tugged Newton close to better share in its sweetness. His fingers brushed through his hair and drifted down his back, gestures meant to reaffirm and reassure because even two weeks later he was still plagued by thoughts of Newton never returning.

To think he wouldn't have this now, might never known the true depth of Newton's devotion- something he's done nothing to deserve.. The first person to ever stare his life sentence in the face and still want to stay with him through all of it. A bittersweet future laid out before them, but perhaps a better one as long as they were here. His heart felt ready to burst.

Hermann broke off on a breath, his hands ghosting down Newton's arms. He threaded their fingers together and met his partner's eyes.

"I.. I want to do this properly. Court each other properly. I know I haven't been.. particularly forthright in that sense."

"You..." If he looked shocked, he was, but the smile would absolutely not leave his face, no matter how astounded the expression. "You want to court me? Hermann, that's--it's twenty-fif--twenty-sixteen, it's 2016 now and you're talking about courting me like I'm, we're some--" He gave a breathless laugh in wonderment and looked down at their hands, wriggling his fingers to enjoy the feel of Hermann's hand in his as he singsonged: "You want to court me... We're gonna go steady~"

Hermann had no need to court him, not when Newt was already his, hook line and sinker. But Hermann was going to anyway. What was that like? What was it like when it was Hermann, who withheld his emotions until they were fit to burst?

"You want to court me," he repeated, softly, quietly, like he was saying the words aloud just to hear them again and commit them to reality.

"Okay, okay, so how're we defining 'properly' here?" He shifted closer and sat up straighter, freeing one hand to straighten his glasses and trying to give this due serious consideration. But he was also nervous, in a happy, giddy way, and feeling far too sentimental to be considered legal, and Newt failingly tried to mask it behind humor. "I mean, are we courting with Victorian sensibilities, like do we need to get ourselves a chaperon and separate rooms again, what are we looking at?" He laughed, his voice raising in mirth. "Are there rituals? A guy's gotta ask."

It was worth it just to see Newton's expression alight with wonder and pleasure. While it was technically 2025 by their standards, the meaning of the phrase was no less outdated.

"Yes, I want to court you." Not that he knew the first thing about doing so- only that he needed to be more active in their relationship and this was, in a way, a test of his own resolve to put himself forward and prove his sincerity to Newton.

He'd given the man gifts certainly, taken him out on a date crafted around his interests, and recently assisted in rescuing him from an enemy vessel. However, only one of those scenarios counted as a specifically romantic gesture. Perhaps he should set himself a goal, with the 'last' being a proposal. Engagement may well be the modern day equivalent of courting, but he felt they'd use that time for planning and any last bits of hesitation. A short engagement would suit them well.

"Hardly," Hermann returned with the same edge of amusement. His free hand came to rest on Newton's hip. "I'm only interested in establishing an appropriate length of time between our relationship milestones to avoid rushing into too much at once. ..Of course, I also really do believe you deserve more than I've been able to adequately express in these past two months."

He glanced down at Hermann's hand on his hip and bit back a teasing comment.

"Hermann. Hey. You've expressed adequately," he tried instead, but that blindly faithful failure to acknowledge faults was not him, not them, and Newt backpedaled. "Well, no, I mean, I'd like a bit more expressed, uh, but I'm not great at it either, and I didn't sign onto this expecting you'd be like a poet or something. Really. To be honest, Hermann, that we're even having this conversation and I'm not stocking up on Valentine's candy to drown my unrequited love with, is itself pretty miraculous. I could be deep in a box of truffles by now."

Before everything changed that evening in November, Newt figured he would have to just deal with it and hope it didn't get much worse. Looking back, he overestimated his ability to 'deal with it' and underestimated how much worse those feelings could get.

The giddiness slipped back into his tone and shined in his eyes. "You're going to have rein me in, you realize, if you want to pace this. Let's be real, Hermann. I tried, I tried valiantly and, logically, I could make the argument, but really? I don't know how much longer I was going to be able to resist the calls of 'put a ring on it'" which made Newt sound a lot braver than he was, which was just fine by him. Hermann didn't need to know he had been terrified that Hermann would say no and leave him forever just because Newt suggested such a thing. And had they actually agreed to marry? Or to discuss the 'M' word? Were they avoiding saying that one? He wasn't sure, but now that he'd said it, he couldn't avoid adding: "I swear to god, we should elope someday just to spite Hiro."

"He would be rather put out," Hermann agreed with a smile despite his own concerns. "But I'd really prefer him to be present for the ceremony. For all you were trying to get him off your case about it however, I'd almost thought you weren't interested in that sort of commitment to start with."

It made sense, given the example Newton's parents had set for him. But now Newton was talking about rings and unrequited love, and a general eagerness to claim him for his own. It was all very catching, but their relationship was unbalanced and if he was going to marry this man, he'd much rather it be on equal ground- just as they were in most everything else.

"Well I must say I'm glad we were able to have this talk before you did anything of the sort at least. It's likely saved us from what I would optimistically refer to as 'a right mess', and a disaster at worst." He gave a brief squeeze to their joined hands. "Give it some time yet Newton, then I'll promise a short engagement."

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random loose threads

January 29, 2016

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Feb 13 2016

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