driftsintobuffetline

[He's not far, in his usual place and typing on his laptop at full speed. Glasses on, pages scrolling in their reflection, and his fingers don't pause the moment he glances up, but rather continue to type seemingly with a mind of their own until they too slow to a stop]

Joaquin? [Obviously not the person he expected to see, Hermann sets the laptop on the coffee table and reaches for his cane to stand.]

Isn't Newton supposed to be with you? He left to meet with you not too long ago, if I'm not mistaken.

[And suddenly he's worried that something very serious happened and steps forward with a touch more urgency] What happened?

Hm? Oh! No, nothing like that. [He holds up his hands to try and assuage some of that worry.]

Newton's just fine. He just offered to give us some privacy for a moment. I, ah, have something to ask you.

Privacy?

[He really can't imagine why they'd need that.. well, alright, if Joaquin had something sensitive he could only confide in him, but Newton was playing that role, and he's fairly apprehensive of doing so himself. He's a terrible friend, really.

But now that he's taken a moment to focus, he can tell Newton is in fact very close, and probably isn't further than the hallway. He's fine, aside from a bundle of nerves and a thread of nausea? Is he sick?

Hermann turns his attention back to Joaquin, still moderately concerned, but he'll address that in a moment]

Well alright, I suppose. What is it?

[Welp, it was now or never, Joaquin. He put on his most charming smile and got his schmooze on.]

I just wanted to say that I'm quite fond of you, Hermann, and I was wondering if you might consider dating me? You know, for real.

What?

[It's a half-laugh, half-question, puzzled on several fronts. He can't imagine where this is coming from and smiles a sort of confused humor while anxiety builds along the drift that simply must be Newton's]

Did Newton put you up to this?

Huh? [What kind of question was that?]

N-no, I'm serious.

[He does laugh then; a quiet chuckle, warmly amused]

Well I'm flattered, but I think Newton is close to having a heart attack in the hallway, so perhaps we should check on him.

[He hadn't expected to be laughed at, of all things. Just... Wow. Wow. Okay. He wanted to go home now.]

Uh... Sure, sure, I'll run ahead then.

[Not waiting for a response to that, Joaquin beelined out of the apartment and nearly ran into Newton in his haste. He didn't want to stick around, so he gave a clipped summary:]

He laughed at me. Hope that makes you feel better. I'm just... I'll see you later. [And he was in the elevator and heading down fast as the apparatus would take him.]

[Newt, who had been listening like the masochist he is, manages a failed pat and attempt to take Joaquin's arm before the the other man hurries away. And now he feels sick for an entirely different reason.]

WHAT THE FUCK, HERMANN?

[The door bangs into the wall as it swings open. Newt stops it with his hand on rebound and closes it hard behind him. Liebling yawns and stretches on the sofa, unimpressed.]

[Hermann starts back a step, silently glad he doesn't move all that fast or he would have been hit with the door. Joaquin is gone, but in his place is an irritated Newton and all of this is very far beyond him.

If he didn't know better, he'd almost say they'd simply shapeshifted in order to test him for unknown reasons. But he recovers, and favors Newton with a glare as he steps closer]

No Newton, I believe I'm the one that should be asking the questions here. What was that?

[What was it indeed? Newt squirmed a little.]

That was...a very misguided attempt to prove a point. Joaquin was--

[Handwave, then the tone is more direct] It doesn't matter what the point was he was trying to prove, the reality of it was, you LAUGHED at him. You don't LAUGH at a guy when he confesses to liking you, Hermann.

Misguided!? [Hermann's voice rose, incredulous]

First of all, he was not serious, and even if he was, you used him as an example to prove a point? I don't think you should be the one lecturing me over this.

[His gestures move along with his speech] WHOA WHOA WAIT A SECOND. WHAT?! ME? NO!! He volunteered to prove--I didn't--He wasn't serious about--but he does LIKE like you and

I am NOT in the wrong here, Hermann. YOU are the one who laughed at a man confessing his feelings, putting his charming ass self out there for the sole purpose of proving to the guy YOU are dating that he's not, that I'm not...that you're not going to LEAVE ME for someone more [He waves back at the door as if meaning Joaquin] more... [gestures to himself] not THIS. HE suggested it--I'd just have gone along NOT KNOWING, I was FINE with not knowing!

[Silence reigns for a moment because Hermann has no idea where to start with any of that. They're all half-formed thoughts until the last, and even then, it fails to make sense within its own context. Fortunately he's dealt with Newton for far too many years and he's capable of stringing them together in what he guesses was the original stream of thought]

Wait a moment. So what you're attempting to say is that Joaquin had a romantic interest in me, and that one of you decided it was an excellent idea to use that in order to prove a point that I wouldn't leave you for someone else?

[It's some high school level of inverted logic he's sure, and he is absolutely offended by the implications]

Well?

I'm sensing judgement and I'd just like you to know this idea was not mine and it was obviously born out of his love and consideration of my feelings, even if it was horribly misguided and went terribly wrong, and can we repeat it was not my idea, and yes, he does like you--liked you--probably doesn't really anymore now that you've LAUGHED AT HIM.

...God, Hermann. Why did you have to laugh at him??

[Breathing a long sigh, Hermann's fingertips touch his temple in an attempt to stay the oncoming headache. Newton couldn't ever have just a simple outing.]

Look Newton, I'm still not convinced all of this hasn't been a joke at my expense. Joaquin having feelings for me? Come now.

[He advances on Newton, expression growing more severe by the second]

You however, doubting me and nearly having a panic attack in the hallway, I could believe this of, and I most certainly do not care for the implications. It doesn't matter whose idea it was, you went along with it, and I can't honestly believe you were afraid I'd up and leave you like that.

Edited 2016-03-25 05:22 (UTC)

[He stood his ground]

Maybe you could if you actually BELIEVED in yourself, man. 'Come on' yourself. Why is it automatically assumed Joaquin couldn't like you? I like you--why is MY liking you considered more likely to be valid than HIM liking you? Because I'm a nerd? Because I'm a slightly-overweight runt with a voice that sounds like a broken DOG TOY and no friends, and he's a shining paragon of heroics and good breeding? Is THAT it, Hermann?

You don't think you're capable of catching the interest of the kind of person you really want.

Good to know.

Because I'm nearly twice his age, for starters! You are someone I've known for over ten years. We've worked together, grown familiar and- friendlier.

[He's struggling for the words to explain himself now and flusters, knowing he needs them or reap worse consequences] There's.. there's always been a sort of attraction there and we know that now. Intelligence and admiration..

[Hermann squares his shoulders and glances up] To be honest, Newton, I'm still not certain of the reasons behind your attraction. I'm grateful for it of course, because it took that and a few months before I realized anything for myself, but you still should not have brought my devotion under scrutiny. It's frankly insulting.

[...Always been a sort of attraction? Really? On paper, sure, and Hermann had wanted him before they met, but once they met... The sparks THEN hadn't been the kind of sparks they wrong romantic films about. Hermann brought out the best and worst in him. He is the best and worst thing Newt has ever known, ever had, ever wanted.

He looks at Hermann, then looks away. Well, he always knew he would kill this relationship single-handedly.]

I don't doubt your devotion to me as a friend, or as a life partner, even. I know you love me; you loved me when you offered to Drift with me. It's just...hard to believe you're IN love with me, Hermann, or attracted to me, that I haven't somehow swept you along on this ride of mine, that I'm not ...Stockholm Syndroming you into being in love with me. This feels too good to be true, and in my experience, when it comes to people, it usually is.

[And there are those wonderful feelings of inadequacy. He's not demonstrative enough, Newton doesn't believe him, and everything is going to fall apart if this much doubt constantly plagues their relationship.

There are reasons they aren't engaged yet.]

Enough. [Hermann snatches Newton's wrist and all but drags him back to the couch, where he shoves him in the direction of a cushion with a short command to 'sit down']

We are going to drift, and you are going to pay attention, because I'm not doing this every time you decide I'm not sincere enough.

[He stumbles with Hermann to the couch and sits on command, without an objection, because he knows when Hermann means it and when it's important and when being contrary is an unwise idea and so he sits and cringes a little at the way Drift is made to sound like it's a punishment, but offers Hermann his other hand as well with a nod.]

[Hermann settles next to Newton, setting his cane aside so he can take both of Newton's hands in his own. He stares into those green eyes for a few moments, attempting to herd all of his annoyance and insecurities to the back of his mind in order to better focus on what he loves and what he needs to show Newton.

With a breath, he closes his eyes and works to remember everything in as vivid detail as he can recall.

It's bright and he's warm. Everything is familiar in an odd sort of way. The streets of Hong Kong are lit up around them in vibrant colors and he was staring at a watch, taking in every detail of its design with mixed feelings of wonder and delight.

It was perfect. Newton had gotten it for him. How utterly thoughtful and romantic. His heart beat a quick rhythm inside his chest, building up to an affection he could only adequately express in the form of a sweet kiss]

It's wonderful Newton, thank you.

[He's seeing the memory now from Hermann's point of view instead of his own, and the wonder is no longer directed at Hermann's wrist in the same way ('it's perfect, I knew I wanted you to have it the moment I saw it; I couldn't get it out of my head; it made me think of you' becomes 'it's perfect, Newton got this for me; it will make me think of you, always') and Newt is both Hermann and watching the scene, marveling at the watch, at Hermann's expression, no longer as caught up in his own wonder and thrill and nervous energy--

And instead is drowning in Hermann's. Hermann manages so subdue his energy better than Newt ever could and kisses him, the Newton from memory, and then Newton is rambling as Newt remembers himself doing, trying to explain the watch, failing to express everything he is feeling in that moment, everything he has been feeling since the moment he knew that watch had to be Hermann's, and it finally culminates in the single important sentiment:]

Happy anniversary. [He thought the phrase was special then, but in Hermann's mind, now, the depth and breadth of that word: anniversary is so much bigger than the vastness it had felt like in Newt's own heart.]

[It feels like a promise, both secret and treasured, and Hermann returns the sentiment with a smile and another kiss. He's happy in a way he can't remember being in recent years, and it hits him then that he's in love. In love with the same man he's shared a lab with for years, squabbling over everything and nothing under the sun.

He rather imagines them orbiting one another in a strange dance that means they come together and grow apart, but never separate for long. And now he's more than happy to be drawn into his gravitational pull. He'll become the moon before long.

Yes, he's in love with this man. Just looking at him and the play of colors against his profile sends a warm rush of affection and fondness flooding across their connection.

I love you, he thinks but does not say, though the words feel like they're ready to burst from him and deafen all else. Instead he swallows and pulls Newton into a tight embrace, giving voice to gratitude that far exceeds its given meaning. But it feels like the real intention behind those paltry words might still translate through the drift]

Thank you, Newton.

[And Newton, the Newt of memory, can almost but not quite feel that love--and instead feels it along with or as his own love and affection and misses the parts that are distinctly Hermann--understands the love to exist, nebulously, but never with a concrete affirmation.

But Newt now knows this moment where Hermann knows that this is love, while wrapped in an embrace with this Newton--Newton, who has known since at least late November, maybe had inklings before, that HE loves Hermann. Under the glittering skyline of Hong Kong, Hermann is in love in the way Newt had been under those twinkling Christmas lights. This is his revelation, his epiphany... not that he didn't love Newt or wasn't in love with him before, but the words now are definitive--he has actually labeled this feeling and filed and cataloged it. It is certain, without a doubt, in the way Hermann is certain of his numbers.

And everything is beautiful. Newt is absolutely certain Hong Kong was never as beautiful in real life as it is now in Hermann's memory. Even the noise of traffic seems melodious. The lights catch on Newton's own glasses and HE has never looked so good, his eyes never quite that that pretty as they are now, as if illuminated from within.

Newt has never seen himself as he is when loved by someone.
He has never done anything for Hermann, never anything in his LIFE, to deserve this.

Newton thanks him (for saving his life, for Drifting with him, for loving him and tolerating him and standing by him...all those things and everything at once) and then, in lieu of saying 'I love you' himself, offers action instead. Action has always worked better for Newt, and in retrospect, he thinks it was the right offer of action: symbolizing love, trust, and togetherness...not quite a Drift, but still intimate and symbolic. And he had just really wanted to, wanted to extend this evening, to celebrate, to hold onto this giddy excitement and not squash it under decorous behavior of sitting for a nice dinner.]

May I take you dancing?

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