#newmann fics

[ladybender]

[psyduckz]

just you and me and this kaiju i illegally cloned

[witchyam]

beautiful writers who write smut involving a character with a disability please honor it by not putting them in positions that are totally impossible for the character to be in. its not fun to read when its more than obvious that the practicality of it is absurd. that character wears a back AND leg brace he is not getting railed standing against a wall

[mikacanica]

Obsessed with Hermann's chunky parka. 10/10 perfect outfit.

[shaythey]

saw this print on pinterest and immediately came down with Constellation Tux Hermann Brainrot

[foxglovecove]

Hermann Gottlieb: Consulting Detective

Ok I've been super inspired by @bitmeddler 's Sherlock Holmes Newt and Hermann AU so I've been doodling some companion pics (which Bit has graciously put in the story). Thought I'd compile them here and do a shout out and a fic rec for the story!

Hermann Gottlieb: Consulting Detective Rating: Mature Author: @bitmeddler

[synthapostate]

@lastdaysofwar, Day 21: Downtime/Jacket (Hermann Gottlieb/Newton Geiszler)

It isn’t unusual for various systems in the Shatterdome to break down. Their staff includes some of the most skilled technicians in the world, but their focus is necessarily on the jaegers and on LOCCENT systems, so when the air conditioning is on the fritz, it simply isn’t a priority.

If it had simply stopped blowing cool air, Hermann supposes, it wouldn’t be so bad. The lab would become uncomfortably warm, he and Newton would bring out their desk fans, Newton would whinge on a bit about the sweat interfering with his hair gel, but they would survive. But, as it happens, a failure somewhere down the line means the damn thing is going full blast, shooting icy cold air from the vent directly above Hermann’s chalkboards. There’s nowhere he can work on his equations that’s out of the line of fire, and he can’t be certain in this lighting but he thinks his fingers might be turning blue, so he’s been forced to retreat to the marginally less frigid territory of his desk, where he’s reduced to working with pencil and paper.

Even Newton, who is never cold, has wrapped himself in a blanket on the couch to watch some insipid action movie on his tablet. Never before has Hermann regretted a lack of samples for the biologist to study, but today he feels a stab of something uncomfortably like jealousy at the sight of his colleague, at loose ends, snuggled into what he childishly refers to as a “cozy burrito.”

“You should come watch this with me,” Newton calls, his eyes never leaving the screen. Hermann stiffens.

“I’m working. You may be familiar with the concept.”

“Working on what, man? When’s the last time you even got any new data?”

“I’m a mathematician, Newton. Not all of us have to wait around for fresh tissue samples before we can get anything done.”

“Whatever, nerd.” He finally looks over at Hermann, teasing smirk dropping into a frown. “You’re freezing,” he accuses.

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.” Newton pauses his movie. “I can’t even hear the explosions over your stupid chattering teeth. Why don’t you go get that big-ass parka and an ugly sweater?”

“It’s July.” A lightweight blazer is more than adequate for the weather outside.

“Buddy, it’s not July in here. I’m making coffee. You want some?”

“It’s the middle of the afternoon.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Newton wanders over to the coffee machine, and Hermann tries to get back to work. He has no time for Dr. Geiszler’s nonsense.

He’s having some difficulty focusing, but that’s no one’s business but his own. It’s simply a matter of willpower. Tuning out external distractions. He’s honed that ability over the years sharing his workspace with Newton, but today he can’t seem to make himself unaware of his colleague creeping up behind him.

Creeping with a distinct purpose, Hermann suspects, as he listens to the not at all quiet thump of Newton’s boot leather across the metal floor. The man thinks he’s so subtle. Hermann braces himself for whatever prank is about to befall him.

But whatever he’s expecting, it’s not for Newton’s leather jacket to suddenly drop down over his head.

“Newton?”

“You’re. Cold!” Newton insists, and runs away back to the coffee maker.

Hermann pulls the jacket away from his face and turns to glare at his colleague.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Making coffee,” Newton says.

“Why…” Hermann lets the jacket fall from his head to his shoulders, then reluctantly pulls it forward so that, while not exactly wearing it, he’s wrapped up inside. It is warmer this way. How embarrassing.

“You could always go up to the roof to warm up,” Newton suggests as he pours two cups of coffee.

“I told you, I’m working. And I do not need to warm up.”

He expects Newton to call his bluff and demand the jacket back, but the man just shakes his head and holds out one of the coffee cups until Hermann, with a sigh, comes over and takes it.

“Thank you, Newton,” he grumbles. The coffee is too hot to drink yet, but the steam wafting up into his face is quite pleasant.

“S’just a jacket,” Newton says.

“Thank you for the coffee.” They make each other coffee all the time, nothing noteworthy about it. It is not an unusually kind gesture from a man who usually has little to offer beyond relentless mockery. There is nothing confusing about a cup of coffee, and therefore Hermann will not be forced, for the sake of his own emotional stability, to pretend it hasn’t happened.

“How come you won’t put your arms in the sleeves?” Newton asks. “What’s the matter, afraid you’ll look too cool and ruin your reputation?”

Hermann takes a sip of coffee, then tries very hard not to let on that he’s burned his tongue.

“Hey, you know what’s even warmer than a jacket? My blanket,” Newton says, wriggling his shoulders within his cocoon.

“I know it’s warm. It’s my blanket,” Hermann snaps.

“Whatever, you left it lying around. Free real estate.” Newton gestures magnanimously toward the couch. “Come watch a movie with me and I’ll share it with you.”

“Mm…What movie? Who’s in it?”

“You know that guy who played Hellboy?”

“No.” Why on earth would he know who that is?

“Man, you don’t know anything good. There’s vampires,” Newton urges. “You like vampires, right?”

“No.” He does, a bit, but it doesn’t do to appear too eager.

“Come sit on the damn couch, Hermann.” Newton takes a gulp of coffee, and barely restrains himself from spitting it out. “Ah fuuuuuuuck it’s hot!”

“Yes, Newton. Hot coffee is hot.”

“Coffee indeed hot,” Newton says, as if that’s something significant.

“As you say,” Hermann agrees, because he loses nothing by it. Newton grins and punches Hermann’s shoulder, which seems to be a friendly gesture, so Hermann doesn’t retaliate.

“Come on, Hermann. Sit. Be warm. Watch the vampires explode. Enjoy your downtime for once.”

“I don’t have downtime,” Hermann protests.

“You have plenty of downtime. Sit with me. Watch. Exploding vampires, Hermann. Exploding vampires.“

“Very well, Newton, show me the exploding vampires.” It isn’t as if he can think straight under these conditions anyway.

They settle on the couch together with their coffee, the blanket spread over their laps and the tablet propped where they can both see it. Newton doesn’t ask for his jacket back, so Hermann keeps that on as well.

It’s really quite nice, having…downtime, Hermann decides, as he begins to relax and their shoulders come into contact, followed by elbows, and then Newton’s knee swings over to bump against his. Five minutes into the movie, they’re leaning against each other, temperature troubles forgotten, and, yes, it’s very nice indeed.

Dr. Geiszler may well be the first person who has ever encouraged Hermann to do anything other than work. He does not resent the demands being made on him, not with the fate of the world on the line, but it is not the worst thing in the world, being given an excuse to stop. He can’t allow himself to get used to this sort of thing, but just for a little while, he’ll enjoy his moment of peace.

Peace, and exploding vampires.

[postapocalyptic-cryptic]

Little sample of a pacrim uprising fix-it I've had in the works for a while

----

They've been providing him with food and water, they say, but he is clearly still wearing the remnants of the same suit Hermann had last seen him in, and it is clear no one has let him out of the chair to shower or shave. The dark stubble lining his face is the most facial hair Hermann has ever seen on him, and it is disconcerting. This is not Newt, would not look anything like him even if his eyes were the right color and his face not set in that awful rictus of inhuman humor. The Precursors' strange eyes light on him, and Hermann suppresses a shiver. He has a plan, and he is going to see it through. He is going to see Newton. "Newton," he greets. "You look a mess." For a moment, the things pretending to be Newton say nothing. Then, a broad smile spits Newton's face. "Hello, Herms. Good to see you, too."

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: Anyone who wants to drill into Dr. Geiszler's skull must first build him a ziggurat. A study in cognitive dissonance and emotional devotion. 

Author: cleanwhiteroom

Note from submitter: if you're in the fandom and don't recognize the title of this one, you may have also heard it referred to as "the pacific rim google docs fic" of legend.

[froggy-horror-picture-show]

"charlie's talking about sunny fanfic oh no what if he reads mine" sorry to talk about pacific rim in the sunny tag again but folks. he has already read fanfic. he thanked people for "writing alongside the writers" in 2018. the guy is not gonna freak out about your macden fic

[missanthropicprinciple]

March 23, 2018 - as of today (April 12, 2024) there are 4,409 Newmann fics.

[ladybender]

Ok hiii I haven read pacific rim fic in yearssss so what are your fave newt/hermann recs???

hiiii of course! i have a few i adore lol, i'm making a list

Designations Congruent with Things, cleanwhiteroom - this feels silly to mention because it's so famous in the fandom, everyone and their dog has read it. but! it's for a good reason because this is freaking great. i have a google doc link with it bc the original was posted i don't remember where long ago and then deleted, so we'll do lol. (hope the link works, here!)

Occam's Razor, BlairRabbit - this is soooo good, very epic, probably my n°1 fav, i can't recommend this one enough

The Rush of the Sea, rednights - this one one is shorter, and probably the closest thing i have to a comfort read lmao, i love it so much

The Great Debate, glassfrog - this one makes me feral, eating drywalls and biting and trashing. i can't descrive it any other way unfortunately 😂 just know it's sooooo good, like so good

After Zero, what_alchemy - this whole series i swear to god. so good

First Principle, veganthranduil - amazing, amazing, another one for when i want to bite that sweet drywall

there are probably many others that i love, i need to look at my bookmarks again, but these are probably my favorites ones ever. hope this was useful! 💙

aaand also, i'm gonna throw mine into the ring too for good measure lol In Between Clear Blue Water

[alone-on-takodana]

Day nine of @lastdaysofwar - Why we fight

Hermann/Newt - Rated G

Set many years in the future, sweet, short and fluffy

Why we fight

‘Why’d you do it? 

‘Do what?’ Hermann mumbles, half awake. 

‘Why did you get involved in the jaeger project?’ Newt turns on his side to look at his husband, sleepy in the golden light of a Sunday morning some twenty years or so from K-Day. 

‘I should like to be significantly more awake before you ask any questions that require any more than grunting on my part. ‘

‘You gonna tell me if I make you some coffee, Captain Caveman?’

‘Leave me be, you awful beast.. ‘

‘No but like, I was just thinking-’

‘There's a first time for everything.’ Hermann interjects, rolling onto his side. 

‘I was just thinking-’ Newt persists ‘Like, I just wanted to get closer to the Kaijuu. I mean, where was I ever gonna get that sort of opportunity? They were so cool, and I could actually be in their guts, in their skin, in their brains-’

Hermann opens one eye, and blearily fixes Newton with a look that suggests he get to the point a little more quickly. 

‘Okay, okay, coffee first..’

He returns ten minutes later with two steaming mugs, and Hermann is sat up in bed, putting his glasses on. 

‘Thank you, liebchen. Now, you were saying?’

‘Why did you join the jaeger programme? And once stuff got bad, once you needed to like, drift with the kaijuu brain, or once we thought maybe we weren't gonna make it, why didn't you tell me to get lost? I mean you really could've taken the money and run, made out like a bandit. And then you carried on working through the PPDC, even when I'd gone, even when I was working for Shao and…y’know’. It still hurts to talk about, like an invisible hand is twisting his guts tighter and tighter. Hermann lays a hand on his, squeezing his fingers. 

 ‘Well, that one was easy. Two main reasons really..’ He takes a sip of his coffee. 

‘Yeah?’ Newt perches on the edge of the bed, cautious of Hermann's leg, which always aches before he has had the opportunity to stretch. 

‘Well firstly, I knew I couldn't live with myself if I didn't. If I'd survived, that is. The guilt would have consumed me. So, I suppose I believed I was doing the right thing by staying. And the second, and more important reason, in my view, was for you.’

‘Yeah but like, you didn't know that then. You didn't know how you felt about me back then, right? During the Hong Kong attacks?’

‘Who says I didn't?’ 

‘Seriously, man? Then? Well, you sure were quiet about it, I figured you hated me’

‘I've never hated you. Sometimes you irritated me to the degree that I wanted to feed you to a Kaijuu myself. But no, I never have. I was never any good at explaining how I felt. And by the time I knew, and couldn't bear not telling you, I thought I had lost you for good. I loved you. Even back then.’

Newt is looking at their joined hands, thoughtful for a moment.

‘I loved you too.’

Hermann shifts, putting his coffee cup down to reach out his arms to his husband. Even now, still dressed in dinosaur boxers and an ancient Rush t-shirt, he's perfect. They both have more than a peppering of grey, and are a bit softer and squishier around the middle. But Newt's never lost that mad twinkle in his eye, and has never gained the ability to shut up, not even for a second. He loves that, too. 

Newt settles into the offered embrace probably too quickly, burying his face his shoulder to breathe in the soap-and-toothpaste clean smell of him. Ten years married, and it still feels like it's gone by in a heartbeat. Like it's never going to be enough. Like he'd better memorise that smell, the way the skin of his neck feels against his cheek, and his steady heartbeat and his hands, god, those delicate, clever fingers, the way he places his long feet just so on the cold tile when he walks to the bathroom in the morning, the tap of his cane on the floor when he gets home from work, his voice - he'd better memorise them all quick because it could so easily be taken away. Anyone brave and stupid enough to fight for him isn't going to be sticking around.

Hermann murmurs close to his ear, disturbing his racing train of thought 'I know you did, liebchen. I'm sorry it took us so long.’

[avelera]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. spread the self-love ❤

Ooh, thank you for this! As for tagging onward, I'm terrible at picking people and I hate to impose, so if you see this and want to fill it out just say I sent you ^^;;;

Giving Sanctuary: The Sandman, Dream/Hob, Canon Divergence AU. Basically, "What if Dream and Hob got together in 1689 when Hob was at his lowest and they bonded over the fact both of them have lost their sons?" Probably one of my most emotionally mature works, I poured a lot of my own meditations on life and grief into it, and it has some of the best dialogue I think I've written to date. I'm also quite proud that it's complete, lol, a running theme in this list.

The Only Way Out is Down: Pacific Rim, Newt/Hermann, post-Uprising but in an attempt to make sense of Uprising and add some depth and poetry to the years Newt and Hermann spent apart. Newt is trapped in a coma after the Precursors are destroyed and Hermann Drifts with him to try to wake him up. In the meantime, they pass through a mindscape inspired by Dante's Inferno, in which each of the 9 years they spent apart take on an aspect inspired by the Circles of Hell that they have to disrupt in order to move on to the next one. Basically a Newt Recovery fic that flips the script and explores how gut-wrenching and traumatizing those years would have been for both of them, but with a lot of humor and healing, this is not meant to be an angsty slog and some of my best comedy is in it too I think. Quite proud of how I interwove Dante's "Inferno" into the structure of the story, quite proud of the fact it's finished and novel-length, and I think I grew at writing character voices and sustaining them throughout a massively long fic with this one. I still jump to read any comments I get for this one because I'm so proud of it, you would not believe how much work went into it.

Prayers to Broken Stone: The Hobbit, Thorin/Bilbo, BotFA fixit in a way but we take the long way 'round. Dragon Sickness literally turns Thorin into a dragon and he and Bilbo need to survive being locked up alone inside Erebor long enough to find a cure for him, or else. The story is much more psychological than it may sound, it's much more about exploring Thorin's trauma through the lens of him turning into the creature he fears and loathes most in the world. Very proud of this fic since it's the first long fic I ever finished, it's the one that made me actually attend some highly competitive writing workshops since I finally felt like I had become a competent enough writer to be able to actually complete a novel. Also quite proud of the characterization, voices, and mythology created for this one.

Shanghaied: Pacific Rim, Newt/Hermann, post-Uprising again. Post-recovery fic, Newt returns to Shanghai where he was held captive by the Precursors for ten years and slowly spirals mentally when forced to confront the physical location of his torment once more, all while trying to put on a brave face for Hermann that only grows more manic as the night goes on. Still perhaps one of my most emotionally... sincere? works? It's the most based on personal experience during a bad time in my life but translated into a flavor of angst I don't see as much of in fic, it's probably one of my more literary pieces in that respect? Anyway, I'm very proud of the maturity of emotion in this one so I always race to see any comments that get left on it.

5. Come live with me and be my love: The Sandman, Dream/Hob, alternate 1789 hookup. Dream loses a bet to Desire and must live for one year as a normal human, in this specific case, one year as the husband or wife of a human of his choosing, without almost any of his powers, in order to better understand how humans live. Dream chooses Hob as his spouse, naturally, since Hob is the least unbearable of humans and not mortal and therefore not in danger from him. Hob is only too glad to oblige but unfortunately, this means Dream has to pretend to be a woman in order for them to blend in, so shenanigans ensue. While this is still a WIP I do intend to return to it and I am massively proud of it. I think it's one of the works I've done the most worldbuilding for from scratch, in the sense that I had to quickly familiarize myself to a reasonable degree with early 1800s England, a period I'm not actually all that fond of in history (I'm not really an Austen or Bridgerton fan, to say the least). I think it has some of my most ambitious writing in terms of scope and scale and some of the more clever writing in terms of building tension and crafting original characters who lend realism to the setting without overwhelming the central, more important characters of Dream/Hob and their story.

[hermannsthumb]

Please please please more "Fake Dating for Funding"! I haven't read much PR stuff in the last few years and your newest piece jerked me right back to that old standby hyperfixation. It's so cute!!

answering this sooooo late, OOPS SORRY, but here's a little ficlet as i try to get myself back in the writing groove.... the original fake dating for funding fic is right here, but i was thinking over plot concepts earlier and this one made me laugh, LMAO

------------------------------------------------------

"I have a favor to ask of you," Hermann says one morning.

Typical of Hermann, it's blunt and to the point, no show of bartering or sweetening Newt up with dessert or anything like that. In theory Newt should be annoyed, but Hermann indebts himself to Newt so rarely (and never willingly) that Newt’s actually kind of interested to see where this goes. He pushes up his work goggles and strips off his gloves without a second thought.

Hermann is standing directly over Newt’s side of the yellow line, one hand balled into a fist while the other white-knuckles his cane, his shoulders hunched over. He looks extremely uncomfortable. On the other hand Hermann rarely looks comfortable, so this isn’t anything new, or something to draw immediate conclusions from.

“Okay,” Newt says. “Lay it on me.”

“I would not blame you if you found yourself thinking less of me,” Hermann says, “or outright rejecting the proposition. I’m aware it is far more than one typically asks of a…” He swallows. “Colleague.”

The word hangs awkwardly in the air between them. It’s not that it’s an inaccurate descriptor, but it doesn’t completely encompass the, uh, reality of things, being that they were a litttttle more than colleagues up until two months ago. (Not that they called themselves anything other than colleagues for the duration of that whole—indiscretion. It was a little confusing.)

Still, Hermann’s groveling, and Newt’s interested. “Oh, sweet,” he says, maybe a little too casually. Just two bros having a normal conversation about how they're nothing more than colleagues. “I’m totally in. What are we doing? Is it illegal or something?”

He could actually use Hermann’s mad computer hacker skills for something in the near future—Newt wants unrestricted card access to the typically very restricted hazardous materials storage in the jaeger bay for reasons he’s not going to disclose—and doing something illegal for the guy would be a great way to get him to do something illegal for Newt in return. In a favor-for-favor way more than a blackmail way, because Newt mostly isn't a dick. And anyway, maybe doing some platonic fun k-science bonding time will be good for them. Make things a little less tense. Newt’s been working on that really hard lately, mostly because his multiple Shatterdome transfer requests have been outright denied by the Marshal and he seems to be out of alternatives.

“No,” Hermann says.

He looks at his shoes. He’s about two unlucky inches away from stepping on a piece of kaiju spleen Newt dropped earlier and forgot about, and the fact that he’s not taking any precautions to shield his precious ugly wingtips tells Newt he means business. “Perhaps a little…morally questionable.”

“Oooh, Hermann, you’re such a tease,” Newt says. He tosses his nasty gloves in the trash can and scoots Hermann towards the cluster of their desks with a hand to the small of his back, ignoring the way Hermann bristles and digs the end of his cane halfheartedly into the floor. “Come on, come on, I’ll make coffee, stop looking so depressed.”

He does make himself a coffee but brews a quick cup of black tea for Hermann, which turns out to be kind of a waste of his time, since Hermann blatantly ignores the mug Newt slides in front of him. He’s gone from looking like the most emo librarian in the world to looking vaguely nauseous. If circumstances weren’t as they are, Newt might say it was making him look exceptionally alluring—that whole sickly Victorian lad thing really gets him going. “If you’ve forgotten,” Hermann says, “we’ve another of those foolish PPDC fundraisers soon, at the end of the month.”

“Oh.” Newt leans back in his chair, a little disappointed. “Is that it?”

“Yes,” Hermann says. “No.” He shakes his head gravely. He’s so dramatic sometimes, it’s kinda cute. “It is the root of the problem, but not the entirety of it. You’ll recall, I presume, how badly in need of funding we are, myself in particular for the Breach-mapping software I am attempting to develop.”

Newt does recall, because yeah, he is also in need of funding real bad. Can’t make awesome, ground-breaking advancements in the field of kaiju biology without any kaiju bits to study the biology of. That spleen currently threatening to ooze over the yellow tape line represents approximately sixty percent of Newt's remaining currently viable samples. “Uh, yeah?”

“I have,” Hermann makes a face, “a working theory, so to speak. You’ll further recall the similar PPDC event we attended in August of last year?”

“Yeah?”

“And the one we attended this year, in the week following our—”

“Yeah, Hermann, I remember.”

“Right,” Hermann says.

Newt remembers the second one more clearly than he likes, because having to make nice with Hermann to present a united front six days after a very, very stupid argument about Newt maaaaybe stealing half of Hermann’s sandwich—which ultimately led to a mutual and spur of the moment decision to dissolve the whole weird lab partners-with-benefits thing they had going on—was one of the more uncomfortable experiences of his career. Still, he made as nice as he could, because his supply of work gloves and Keurig pods were running dangerously low and he didn’t feel like shelling out the money from his own abysmally small paycheck for any.

He doesn’t know what was so significant about the other one they went to though, the one last August. It was humid. Newt remembers being so hot he had to take off his tie, and he lost it somewhere in the convention center afterwards. He misses that tie. Hermann hated it, which makes him culprit number one in its disappearance.

“We drew in significantly more donations in August than we did two months ago,” Hermann says, and opens the top drawer of his desk to produce a neat stack of papers, which he spreads in front of Newt to reveal a series of color-coded spreadsheets.

Newt’s eyes glaze over a little at the sight. He doesn’t bother extending the effort to confirm Hermann’s data—as much as he hates to admit it, the guy is thorough with his numbers and rarely wrong about stuff like this. He flips through it anyway to appease him. And, honestly, he thinks Hermann’s feelings would be hurt if he didn’t, and Newt really is committed to being a good labmate (y’know, for the very brief time being). “And prior to August,” Hermann continues, “you’ll note that the average sum total of donations we received per event was significantly lower. August was an anomaly.”

“Sure,” Newt says. “So what?”

Hermann slides the spreadsheet back into his desk, pulls his dorky glasses off, and exhales slowly: he’s getting to the point. Newt has a hunch what that point might be, but Hermann always looks funny when he gets into lecture mode, and Newt doesn’t want to interrupt it.

“I believe,” Hermann says, “that our—relationship status, which was significantly different on that occasion as compared to the rest—might possibly have had no small influence, for one reason or another. We certainly behaved more, er, affectionately, or tenderly around each other, and perhaps others took note and found it charming. Or some such thing. Of course I can't draw any conclusions from a single point of data, but I believe if we were to... Well, it's a bit silly, hearing myself now.”

“You want me to be your fake b-f so we can trick people into giving a shit about us and shake them down easier,” Newt says.

The tips of Hermann’s generous ears go red. “I’m aware it’s an unusual request,” he says, “especially considering… recent certain developments in our working relationship.”

It’s not exactly the fun platonic bonding time Newt anticipated, but he has a hunch Hermann might be on to something—the whole doomed romance, give us money so our love has a fighting chance of surviving the apocalypse thing, which they were apparently already inadvertently playing up. He’s willing to give it a shot. Making a joke out of it might actually help Newt let go of his last lingering nostalgia for that super brief period of time he and Hermann got up to after-hours hijinks and were almost amicable with each other. And, you know, on the other hand, if that doesn’t work, he could totally do the opposite of moving on and revel in the opportunity to do couple-y tender things with Hermann again.

“Yeah, sure,” Newt says. Real chill about it. He’s so chill, man.

Hermann blinks at him owlishly, clearly taken aback, but says nothing.

“It’ll be fun,” Newt adds. “It’s a good plan, great idea, it’ll totally work. Nothing has to be weird, right? I mean, it’s not like we were really even dating before or anything. There’s no reason for it to be weird. It’s definitely not for me. Is it for you?”

“No, er, of course not,” Hermann says. “It was my idea, wasn’t it?”

They’re totally over each other, but they can also totally pretend they’re not for a night or two, no sweat. “Cool,” Newt says, and repeats, maybe to convince himself, “It’ll be fun. We can dress up all fancy and wear matching ties or something and talk about how tragic we are. I’ll grab your ass in front of people and you can brag about how cool and smart and sexy I am.”

“You are not doing that,” Hermann says, “and I am not doing that. When have I ever—oh, nevermind. I am not averse to the neckties, however, especially if it means you’re at least attempting to look somewhat professional for our prospective—”

“Dude, come on, you totally just think I look hot in a suit.”

The splotchy red flush spreads from Hermann’s ears to his neck as he scowls at Newt. He doesn’t bother denying it: Newt’s sure they both vividly remember the most recent annual k-science research symposium when Newt finally let himself be talked into renting a fancy blazer, to look, uh, like the expert in your field you are, Newton, and Hermann had such a hard time keeping his hands off Newt in increasingly unchaste ways that they had to duck out early. I like when you look put-together and competent, Hermann said, or something along those lines, there was a lot of kissing going on and Newt wasn’t exactly paying attention to specifics. He ended up losing the deposit on the suit—which is why he stole the sandwich in the first place, actually. Very petty revenge. Full circle.

“Piss off,” Hermann grumbles.

“We’re gonna have to put in for just one hotel room if we wanna sell it, you know,” Newt says, the realization suddenly hitting him. “Maybe even one bed. It’ll look totally suspicious if we don’t, right?”

Hermann meets his eyes for a few awkward, quiet seconds, and then they both quickly look away from each other. Newt stands up and makes a show of gathering their untouched mugs, both of which have gone extremely cold. Hermann slips his glasses back on and opens up his desk drawer to shuffle through his immaculate spreadsheets again, pretending to look for errors that they both know aren't there.

“We’ve,” Hermann finally says, and then clears his throat. “We’ve survived worse. I'm sure we can manage. It’s only for two nights, after all.”

“Yeah, totally,” Newt says.

[shaythey]

Hermann deflates. “Don’t drift with the bloody brain,” he snaps. “You’ll kill yourself.”

A familiar, ominous gleam twinkles in Newton’s eye. “What a way to go, though,” he says, wistfully.

From time won't give me time by @hermannsthumb