driftsintobuffetline | random loose threads

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From:

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 Date: 2016-02-04 07:16 am (UTC)

From:

driftsintobuffetline

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 Date: 2016-02-06 08:11 am (UTC)

From:

mathemagier

Getting home taxes Hermann of most of the energy he'd saved up during the Seminar's final hours. But he's bolstered by the drift, blooming back to life as soon as they're away from the resort proper. Newton's concern and frenetic energy is as palpable as he'd expected it would be, but it's there and buzzing with the intimacy and familiarity he'd missed.

His secondary brain.

Hermann's strength holds on a thread of paranoia, wary of being followed, worried about what collapsing in the middle of the street could mean for either of them, what might happen to them if they're caught..

He immediately sags against the door the moment they're through the apartment door. Would have slid to the floor without a second thought if Newton didn't tug him through to the couch. He's in desperate need of real sleep, but there's too much to worry about, too much they need to sort out before that can be a possibility.

They need to leave, but to where? Will he have enough energy to port them both before 10am tomorrow morning? What time does he need to be asleep by to accomplish that? Not to mention eating. He's going to need to force something down. Preferably nothing that will unduly upset his stomach.

"..Do we have any soup?"

From:

driftsintobuffetline

He terminated the call.. It was too personal, too intimate to stay. He would have wanted the same if he were Miles...

So that was...

Miles was in love with Gregor. Belatedly, he realized, that was what Newt had been right about, though at the time he had forgotten they were functioning under the impression that he was even wrong. But Miles and Gregor's relationship was deeper and more intimate than Newt had guessed, and even if Gregor was not in love with Miles, he did love him, clearly, a lot more than Newt thought the quiet, reserved man was capable of. They were Drift Partners, he had known, but now he could see the Partnership between the Drifters. It changed how he perceived their previous interactions, how he understood that spy plot, why, perhaps, Miles was not included.

Most of Newt's initial impressions of closed-off Gregor could now be chalked up to his aristocratic background, and a quiet and subdued personality that was the kind Newt had never found very accessible to him. He had failed to understand Gregor as he had failed to understand Hermann.

That should not have been his takeaway, these feelings, not when there were royal bloodlines and not!clones (he needed to tell Hermann) and something with Lucifer to consider, but it was.

He was a poor empathizer, but here he was stewing in empathy for Miles, for his unrequited love for his friend (the emperor, in some sort of god-awful societal drama and clash of duty and expectation that was probably worthy of a painfully restrained classic British or laborious Russian novel), as Hermann opened the door. Newt leapt up the help relieve him of some bags.

"You should have called. I would have come down to the lobby to help you."

From:

mathemagier

[When they return home, it's with much more than they'd left with. It's really a good thing they have excellent jobs, or Hermann might have had reason to lecture Newton about his frivolous spending. As it stands, he can only disapprove of the purchases by virtue of subject material. But it will all likely go into Newton's room and with any amount of fortune, it might spontaneously disintegrate into non-existence.

They have a nice quiet dinner and clean up, and it's not quite time for bed yet, so they retire to the couch and Hermann fiddles with his laptop while Newton flips through channels. But he's not focused- neither of them are, as is the way of things- and he finally gives in and sets his distraction aside.]

There was a matter you were interested in discussing?

[He should probably be less nervous about this, but finds he's unable to discern the source of those nerves]

Edited Date: 2016-04-16 07:23 am (UTC)

From:

driftsintobuffetline

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.

From:

mathemagier

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.

From:

driftsintobuffetline

"I never thought I'd say this, but I think we've outgrown this apartment."

Newt had been browsing beds and other furniture (and feeling very grown up...his apartment while teaching had been mostly Craig's List, handmedowns, and ikea) online and, despite their current two bedrooms and an apartment worth of space, sparse furniture, and far more square footage than either had in the shatterdome, lately Newt had been feeling like the space was just too cramped.

"Is this because I'm pushing 40? Is this what people do then? Expand their living spaces? Is this, like, nesting and pre-midlife crisis? Because I was never a house kind of guy. Never." He huffed and threw himself down on the sofa. "We should get another cat. And a big back yard. I want a yard--I don't know what I'd do with it, but I want it. ...that's weird, right?"

From:

mathemagier

The world had shifted.

Never before had Hermann ever considered himself any sort of criminal- and still didn't really- but nor had he ever considered associating closely with known criminals. The offer had shaken him a bit- not because it had happened, but because he was actually starting to think it sounded like a halfway decent idea. Worse, it wasn't even Newton's influence.

The Drift was muddled with conflicting thoughts, emotions, worries, and confusion. Raina would want an answer before too long however, so it was time to talk about it. And with Sophie hanging out with a friend for the afternoon, there was no better time.

Hermann took a seat next to Newton on the couch, waiting until the next commercial break to mute the television.

"Newton.. we need to make a decision."

From:

mathemagier

For as many times as he'd seen the Golden Gate on a televised recording of Trespasser's initial emergence, the actual bridge itself was a wonder. Tall red gates and an elegance that was hard to appreciate under the massive bulk of the kaiju as it was torn apart on endless loop.

But it was also colder than he anticipated, as Hermann pulled his awful scarf tighter around his face and made sure his parka was fully zipped and buttoned.

The bridge stretched across the bay, intimidating. The thought of walking on it almost felt like testing fate. No such thing of course, people would drive across for years- their mere presence wasn't going to suddenly summon up a kaiju from the deep. Probably.

And even if it did, he had a challenger of sorts.

But it didn't do to dwell on such things. This was supposed to be something of a romantic venture. Their most important anniversary.

Hermann pulled his glove back on and took Newton's hand. He felt brave standing there, staring down the monument of the war's start. They were going to cross this bridge together, much as they had done most everything else.

"Well I hope there are a few benches along the way, or they might have to deal with a bit of oddly warped paving."

From:

driftsintobuffetline

The little German restaurant that had been the site of their first date still looked as ridiculously cliche as it had over a year ago. Newt grinned and held the door for his husband, swinging the small red and pink giftbag in his hand anxiously as he waited.

Their first Valentine's since marriage. It was a stupid holiday but he was going to take advantage of it anyway. That's why he'd had these reservations for a month.

He wolf whistled as Hermann passed him to go through the doorway and blatantly checked out his backside.

"Marriage does have its perks," he grinned and wiggled his brows. "...Dr. Gottlieb-Geiszler, I'd like you to know that your ass looks pretty damn irresistible in those pants. Not that I can resist it normally anyway." he casually lapsed into German. "But just so you know."

From:

driftsintobuffetline

[Continuing this]

It took Newt longer than anticipated to find a pair of leather pants that fit and that fit his specifications because he was continually forgetting this world didn't have quite the selection of punk and rock clothes he was used to back home, but pretty soon, he was dressed in a hot pair of leather pants, a sharp new pair of boots, and a nice fitted white tee shirt. It was casually rocker, and he debated finding himself a button up he could leave wide open, but ...alright, he as tiny bit self conscious about his midsection and the hint of middle-age stomach he was developing (had been developing, if he was honest with himself) and the tee-shirt look was probably better. More tough!sexy, less strung-out-rocker!sexy.

He texted Hermann en route to the grocery store. There, he'd checked out the makeup aisle (eyeliner, a must--and some extra product for his hair so he showed up in character instead of having to duck in the bathroom first thing when he got home) and picked up a few sweet sticky treats.

By the time he walked into their new house--still in the process of being set up properly--Newt was FEELING it. The Drift was abuzz with Hermann's desire and his own, a livewire of libidos feeding into each other, and as he strutted into the livingroom, new boots clicking on the entryway tile and sunglasses still in place, he used his phone to queue up a rock playlist taken from imPort's music collections.

In its state of moved-in incompleteness--the house looked like the kind of fancy pad a man normally on the road might've just returned to. For a brief sobering moment, he thought about it as a life he once wanted, a life that no longer seriously appealed to him. But with Hermann, it was a life he could enjoy in all its fantasy glory.

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