Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

To be completely fair, Newt has made more than a few ridiculous requests of Hermann over the years. This one just happens to be quite near the top of the list, if Hermann were to rank them.

"Dude, please? I just don't want to let my parents down, you know?" Newt begs. "It's just for a few days, and then I'll owe you-- I don't know-- everything, forever?" Hermann studies him with a critical eye.

"Setting your simply fascinating idea aside; to be honest, I'm quite interested how you managed to keep hidden from me a relationship of six months," Hermann says as he tries to continue filling out an overdue form and distract himself from the implication that he doesn't know the man as well as he thought. Newt sits down on his desk, shuffling the papers atop it so Hermann no longer has access to the one he'd been working at, and Hermann sighs and looks up at Newton for the first time since the conversation had begun. He can tell that Newton is doing his best at making ‘puppy-dog eyes’, but it doesn't quite come off how Hermann suspects he intended it to.

"Hey, I know you think I compulsively share every thought that crosses my head--" Hermann snorts in disbelief "--But he wanted to keep it on the down-low, y'know?" Hermann raises his eyebrows because he can't recall seeing Newt leave the Shatterdome more than bi-monthly for the past year, but he also feels a certain measure of understanding at the last part. It wasn't particularly hard to imagine wanting to keep such a relationship out of the public eye if it wasn't yet involved enough to require such a proclamation, and he had recently been made aware enough of the existence of long-distance relationships, so he could consider it a possibility.

Despite the friendly bickering, Hermann can sense a level of desperation starting to rise in Newton's demeanor, and holds off on firing another argument to sit back in his chair and returns Newt's hopeful look with a thoughtful hum.

"You're sure you cannot ask anyone else in the Shatterdome?"

"'Fraid you're the only person who would fit the demographic I described to the parents."

"What demogra-- Nevermind that, your taste in romantic partners isn't particularly important at this moment. You're positive it wouldn't be kinder to everyone involved to simply explain the situation?" Hermann asks pointedly. "I'm not sure how wise it is to lie about such a thing to your own guardians, I know how fond you are of them." The last part is a thread of an understatement; Hermann is highly aware that Newt could only be described as a 'Daddy's Boy', based on the frequency of calls and care packages he notices Newt receiving.

"Look dude, I've thought long and hard about this. I wouldn't be asking you if the situation wasn't dire," Newt sighs. "I just want to be able to show them I'm okay despite not having seen them for so long, you know?" Hermann gives a sigh of his own, lips tightening into a thin line. He supposes it would provide a convenient out of his own family's ‘festivities’ at the very least, and though he wouldn't admit it aloud, it would be nice to not be alone in the Shatterdome over the Holidays...

"I'll play along with your ridiculous plan," he finally mutters. Newt's expression switches rapidly between what Hermann reads as disbelief, joy, and relief. "Don't try to twist this into more than it must be," he adds quickly, less to (needlessly, Hermann thinks) restrain Newt, and more for his own sake. He doesn't need that... fluttering feeling from the pit of his stomach returning; he's managed to tamp it down for long enough already, and regression back to when he'd thought Newt had been... well, it just really isn't in his best interest. Newt's grin flickers for a moment, briefly enough that Hermann dismisses the gesture, and he hops off the desk and to his feet.

"Uh, yeah. Anyways, I owe you one, dude-- er, more than one. Uh, I'll fill you in with more details later, yeah?" Newt smiles as he backs out of the room. "I'm headed to the mess!" he calls. As he turns around, Hermann catches a fist pump and a quiet exclamation, and he can't help giving an amused exhale as he returns to his work.

It takes a few days before Newt actually shares his travel plan with Hermann, and he almost thinks that Newt had either forgotten or asked him as a joke. No such mercies, he realizes when he looks over from working on the blackboard to find Newt standing a foot or so away from his face, watching him intently. Hermann startles back with a string of exclamations, and notices that Newt's holding a notepad covered in his signature all-but-incomprehensible fusion of print and shorthand.

"Hermann! My man! My fake boyfriend!" Hermann's internals give a weird ripple.

"I swear to God, Newton, call me that again and I will rescind my offer," he mutters, looking back to his equations on the chalkboard.

"Uh huh. Fake husband it is," Newt grins. "Listen. I have the trip all planned out now, so get your mental pen ready."

"Why do I need a mental pen if you've already got it written out?"

"I just didn't think you've had enough of a change of heart about my handwriting to want to read this--" he gestures to the notepad, still covered in what looks like scribbles "--every time you want to recall a detail." It's true that Hermann had asked Newt to dictate close to every single word he had ever written in his print-shorthand mashup in lieu of Hermann deciphering it himself (albeit mostly to provoke Newt), so this isn't as poor of a point as Hermann's raised eyebrows would make it out to be.

"Anyways." Newt goes over the trip itinerary in odd detail, as though they weren't just going to his parents' house for a week. Hermann much prefers it all being overly planned to under planned, though, so he stands and listens as Newt explains the whole affair.

"What will the, ah, sleeping arrangements be?" Hermann asks at the end, brain having fixated on the one detail that Newt had smoothly glossed over. Newt gives him a blank grin for a moment.

"Uh, well since we're s'posed to be–" Newt waves his hands for emphasis "--involved, I think we'll just be in my old room, which is also the guest bedroom, with the queen. Which, uh, I can totally sleep on the floor, it's cool." Hermann frowns.

"Are you sure? Perhaps we could..." Hermann trails off when he realizes there isn't exactly a better solution to the problem.

"Damn, didn't take you for the touchy-feely type. Fine, we can share the bed if you wish," Newt says with a mock sigh. Hermann is, decidedly, of the touchy-feely type (though perhaps only when it comes to Newt), but Newt has no reason to know this, nor does he need to know. In addition, Hermann doesn't predict that such a reason should arise in his lifetime, which is... fine. He resolutely tries to keep his ears from heating at the idea, instead.

Newt fiddles with the edge of the notepad, making little tears in the paper for a long moment before he seems to remember what he was doing.

"So you'll need enough shit for the whole week, and it'll also be cold so make sure you bring your warmest grandpa clothes." Hermann gives him a withering look. "Hey, don't attack the messenger!" Newt throws up his hands.

"I don't think this is quite the situation for that saying to apply."

"Uh huh. Well, never got any of my PhDs in language for a reason. That's all I had, so make sure you're ready on Friday morning!" Newton, already having crossed the line along the lab's center, turns up his music player enough that Hermann wouldn't have been able to reply if he had wanted to. Hermann studies Newton across the lab for a moment as he snaps a pair of gloves on, before Newt glances back up at him and Hermann abruptly refocuses his stare to the numbers on the board before him. He steals more than a few extra glances over his shoulder before he can finally focus again.

Hermann had, for some reason, expected Newt to be a decent driver. He was wildly let down as soon as they pulled out of the car rental lot, Newt immediately having to swerve around a car that narrowly misses T-boning them. He flips the other driver off even though it had absolutely been his own fault, and Hermann sighs with a white-knuckled grip on the passenger seat's over-head handle.

"Remind me how far your father's house is, Newton?"

"Oh, only, like, 6 hours!" Newt replies cheerily. Hermann swallows, and Newt turns up the car radio.

They're a few hours into the drive, as far as Hermann can tell, when the engine starts sputtering dangerously. It's dark, but Hermann can see Newt's face pale as he maneuvers the sedan off to the side of the road with a squeak.

"...Newton?" Hermann mutters through clenched teeth after the car goes still.

"Yeah?"

"I'm driving us home when this holiday is over." Newt nods without protest, and Hermann lets out a long suffering sigh. "Is it the gas tank, or did something else happen? Do we need to evacuate the vehicle?"

"It's the gas."

"I suppose I am at least grateful that it isn't a permanent issue." They sit in silence for a long moment.

"Should we call a tow truck?" Hermann prompts. Newt shakes his head.

"Nah, uh, my dad can probably bring us gas or something. So, uh I guess I'll just call him." Newt steps out of the car with his phone to his ear, and Hermann leans his head on the headrest. It had been a long day, and this feels like the icing on the cake. He's tired, and the combination of the near complete lack of noise and the dark night sky isn't helping either. He watches Newt through the windshield for a moment, and lets his eyelids flutter closed. If they were lucky, they'd get to Newt's childhood home before it was too late to sleep. If they weren't so lucky, however... Well, they may as well rest while they wait for Newt's father to rescue them from the side of the road.

Hermann's eyes shoot back open when Newton opens the door again, letting a gust of freezing air into the car.

"Alright, uh, good news! My dad can totally come get us."

"They way you phrased that makes it sound as though there's also bad news to be had." Newt's lips tighten.

"Well, we are still some two hours away, so it'll uh, be a while." Hermann leans his head back again with a shiver. The car really had been cooled off by the brief opening of the door, and the heater most certainly wouldn't be turning on anytime soon.

"You wouldn't happen to have brought any spare blankets with you?" Hermann asks icily.

"No--" Hermann lets out a long breath "--but I’m guessing you didn’t, either," Newt shoots back with a glare that Hermann can feel, even without his eyes open. Hermann's frown deepens and he suppresses another shiver. More silent minutes pass until Hermann can no longer hold back violent tremors. He cracks an eye open and can see his breath fogging in front of him. Glancing over to the driver's seat, he can tell that Newt isn't in much better of a situation.

"Do you want to get something out of our suitcases?" Hermann finally asks.

"Oh-- Yeah that's probably a good idea," Newt nods, turning in his seat to rummage through the back of the car. He hands Hermann his coat, and while he puts it on Newt starts looking through his own luggage. After some 30 seconds, Newt huffs frustratedly and looks back at Hermann.

"Hey, you mind lending me a second set of eyes? I can't find my coat." Hermann decides he would rather brave the cold than risk aggravating his leg where they aren't in easy access of anything to soothe it, so he hops out and rounds the car to open the back side door. It's bitter, gusts of wind wiggling into the openings of his sleeves determinedly. He leans over Newt's bag, and after another minute or so withdraws with a sigh.

"Did you really forget your coat, Newton? After the whole speech you gave me?" Hermann chides when he gets back into his seat with the door closed. Newt folds his arms with a shiver.

"I swear I put it in there, dude! Someone must've, must've, stolen it, or something!"

"Just like how all your dissection equipment gets 'stolen', and then 'mysteriously' reappears in unorthodox parts of the lab?" Newt opens his mouth to respond, closes it, and glares at him again. "As I suspected."

Despite the squabbling, Hermann does feel a pang of pity for the man; it's approaching midnight now, and they'll be waiting at least another hour and a half before anyone arrives to re-fuel their car.

"If you're really cold, I don't suppose it would harm anything if we moved to the back-seat and... Shared heat while we waited," Hermann finally concedes with himself quietly, after watching Newt shiver violently for a few more seconds. Newton’s face lights up.

"Really?" Hermann nods slowly, already slightly regretting the decision; it's dark, it should hide a flushed face well enough, but Hermann had promised himself he would be careful about getting too close to Newton on the trip. It had taken him a great deal of time to get his... feelings for the man under control, and he isn't fond of the idea of relapsing into lovesickness. "I was right, you are a cuddler!" Newt says with a triumphant grin.

"Jove, Newton, you'd best shut up before I rescind my offer." He can see Newt bite his lip while Hermann exits the car again and slides into the back-seat. When he looks back, instead of seeing Newt doing the same he finds that he's climbing over the median between the two front seats.

"For God's sake, Newton, don't scuff the rental's upholstery-- '' The chide is unnecessary, as Newt has already finished wiggling somewhat awkwardly between the two seats and is pushing their luggage to the side and settling down beside Hermann.

"Too late," he grins. "Besides, it's fucking freezing outside and, unlike you, I don't have long sleeves on. Which reminds me, let me into your coat, my good sir." Hermann scoffs, but unzips the long coat and stiffens (and stifles a gasp) when Newt leans into him. Despite his shivering, Hermann finds that Newt is letting off far more heat than Hermann has in his coat. Newt notices just as quickly.

"Damn, dude, are you made of fucking ice? I thought I was cold, but you're downright frosty."

"I happen to run a tad less warm than most, yes," Hermann replies with a level stare.

"I feel like I'm doing you a favor more than you're doing me one," Newt jokes and wiggles his arms around Hermann's torso until he's more or less hugging Hermann. Hermann shivers, for reasons that are completely separate from Newt's ice-cube fingers. The man is practically a space heater, and it's only a few minutes before they're both comfortably warm and no longer shivering against each other. The shock of physical contact even wears off enough for Hermann's body to relax and let his previous exhaustion set back in, and he can feel his eyelids getting heavy again.

"You said it would be a while before your father would be able to travel all the way out here, yes? It would make sense for us to get some rest while we wait." Newt looks up from where his chin has been propped on Hermann's shoulder to look him in the eye.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're looking for an excuse to fall asleep cuddling," he grins. Hermann sputters, thankful that the darkness is hiding the beet-red color that his face surely is.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that you forgot your coat on purpose just to subject me to otherwise unrequired physical contact," Hermann snaps. Surprisingly, Newt chooses to not respond and settles his head back in the crook of Hermann's neck.

"I didn't say that resting would be a bad idea," he finally says in a placidly quiet voice. Hermann cringes and elects to not continue the argument, awkwardly resting his head on the top of Newt's before deciding it would be more comfortable to lean back in the seat instead of forward. He gets a whiff of Newton's hair despite the brief contact, and suppresses the urge to lean back in to catch the flowery scent again.

"G'night or something, dude," Newt murmurs into his neck. Hermann is struck by the thought that maintaining his distance from Newton may be harder than he had planned.

Hermann is jolted awake by someone knocking on the window across from them, and sights a truck idling with the headlights on a couple hundred feet from their rental vehicle. Newt wakes up slower, blinking his eyes blearily. When he lifts his head, Hermann cringes at a damp feeling on his shoulder under where Newt's mouth had been.

"Newton, did you drool on me?" Hermann hisses.

"Wh' time is it?" Newt mumbles sleepily, ignoring Hermann and hesitating before pulling a hand from the warmth of Hermann's coat to check his watch. Hermann catches a glimpse of the watch face, which reads 2:43 AM. They had been asleep for some two hours, he calculates.

"Do you suppose you should withdraw so we can refuel and depart?" Hermann prompts, pulling away gently. Newt groans, chasing the movement for a moment before leaning back and away from Hermann with a grunt.

"It's still fucking freezing," he says as Hermann pops open the car door and steps out. He winces when his leg protests at the movement; he'd definitely need a hot compress at the very least.

"You must be Hermann!" The man who had knocked on the window greets him with a warm grin that's reminiscent of Newt's.

"Mhm; you would be Mr. Geiszler?" Hermann returns, holding out his hand for a shake but getting pulled into a hug instead.

"Yeah, but feel free to call me Jacob. Newt's talked so much about you, feels like I already know you," he laughs with an eyebrow bounce. Hermann raises his own eyebrows in surprise, but of course the man would talk about his long-time lab partner to his father. They've been friends of a sort for most of their time at the PPDC, and that was after their long years of written correspondence. Hermann hadn't ever spoken about Newton to his own parents, but his parental relationship was... vastly different.

"Thank you so much for coming out here, and apologies; I don't suppose Newt has driven very recently, so he must be a tad out of practice," Hermann says as he follows Jacob to the truck. There's two gas cans in the bed, and Jacob hauls one out and they lug it back to the rental sedan. While they're waiting for it to drain into the empty tank, Newt pokes his head out from the back-seat.

"Hey Dad! Thanks for coming to rescue us," he laughs, still sounding somewhat drowsy. "Forgot that cars need food too!" Hermann, standing behind him, can see Jacob shake his head and snort amusedly.

"Be glad that you weren't any further out or I might've told you to wait until the morning, son," he replies. "Though maybe I should've anyway. Were you two making out while you waited?" Newt's eyes grow owlish and he draws back into the car and shuts the door as a response, and Jacob snorts again. Hermann chews his lip in embarrassment. At least the relationship wouldn't be too hard to fake, if Jacob thought he had caught them doing something... intimate. The thought makes his stomach flop over a little.

Jacob shakes the gas can, letting the last few drops fall into the tank, before stepping back.

"And there we go. I'll drive along behind you in case the one can isn't enough or if something else goes wrong, but you should be set!"

"Thank you so much again, Mr. Geiszl– Jacob," Hermann corrects himself quickly.

"No problem! It's great to finally meet the man that Newt's been enthusing about for the past decade," he says with a wink.

Hermann drives the rest of the way without incident, Newt occasionally sleepily pointing Hermann the correct way from the passenger's seat.

When they arrive, Hermann remembers the other problem they'd have to solve when he and Newt set down their luggage in what must be Newt's old room. Hermann sits on the single queen bed and looks around, taking in the organized clutter of action figures and awards displayed on shelves, the windowsill, and a desktop.

"Where it all began," Newt proclaims, holding out his arms grandly before face-planting onto the bed beside Hermann. "Man it's been a while," he says, words muffled. He lays there for a moment before looking back up at Hermann. "The floor isn't actually that comfortable, would you mind if I...?" he grins hopefully. Hermann stares at him. "There's plenty of room for both of us! We can even, like, put a pillow between us if you're really scared of accidentally brushing my scandalously bare legs in your sleep."

"I don't suppose I'm really in a place to object," Hermann mutters, "Considering it still technically belongs to you." It's a poor excuse and Hermann knows it, but even the idea of sharing the bed with Newt is strangely intoxicating– Hermann doesn't think he would have been able to reject Newt if he had wanted to. He has feelings for the man, so sue him if his resolve in this affect isn't as strong as Hermann wishes it was. He can still feel where Newt had been pressed against him in the car, can still feel Newt's breath ghosting across his neck.

"...I'll take that as a yes," Newt says with delight. "Thank Christ, I was really not looking forward to sleeping on the floor. Aging is a scam, y'know? When you're a kid it sounds all cool and shit, but then you hit thirty and suddenly if you sleep in the wrong position you can feel it for the rest of the week." Hermann only hums a response, busy unpacking his suitcase into the empty dresser drawers.

"Newton, I've left the right hand side drawers for you," he says as he turns back to Newt a few moments later, who is now laying on his back on the bed. Hermann realizes that he's fallen asleep, and is breathing peacefully with a hand resting on his chest. Hermann's mouth cracks a small smile at the sight. He turns on the lamp on the desk and flips off the main light, even though he knows he'll have to shake Newt awake so that he can at least get properly under the covers. Hermann changes into his pajamas and carries his toiletries into the bathroom across the hall which Newton had indicated when they'd walked past.

When he re-enters the room freshened up, Newt is still sound asleep. Hermann allows himself one more private smile at how peaceful he looks before shaking his shoulder gently. "I don't suppose you want me to take your spot on the floor so you can sleep at the foot of the bed all night?" Newt sits up and rubs his eyes.

"Don't think that'll be necessary," he mumbles. "Just lemme, uh, change into m' sleep clothes." 'Sleep clothes' for Newt consists of an old t-shirt and nothing but boxer-briefs on his bottom half, which doesn't surprise Hermann but does make his face flush once again when Newt slides beneath the covers next to him.

"G'night again, Herms," Newt mumbles before drifting off again. Hermann decides to not analyze the somewhat ridiculous nickname.

When Hermann wakes up, light is streaming through the window adjacent from the bed, and the clock on the bedside table reads 10:21 AM. Newt is already absent from the other side of the bed and the door is slightly ajar, and while Hermann changes into his outfit for the day he absently wonders when Newt had woken.

"Morning love," Newt says when Hermann walks into the main room where he, Jacob, and another man are all sitting or standing around the kitchen bar. Hermann's heart lurches at the pet-name before remembering that ah, yes, they're supposed to be dating. Newton doesn't really mean it, it is... simply an act. The thought leaves a sour feeling in Hermann's stomach, but be pushes it away before it makes him irritable.

"Good morning, dear," Hermann mumbles in response. The name feels simultaneously foreign in his mouth and yet completely natural, the latter of which worries him more than slightly.

"Have you met my uncle Illia?" Newt gestures to the man who Hermann hadn't recognized.

"I have not-- it is lovely to meet you," Hermann greets him.

"Great to meet you too, Hermann!" Illia says in a gruff voice. Hermann once again offers a hand for a shake, and is once again met with a hug instead. His father's side must be where Newt had gotten his excessive need of physical contact, Hermann concludes when he is released from the tight embrace.

Hermann leans stiffly against the counter whilst Illia returns to his spot on a stool, and Newt poorly hides a laugh behind a hand.

"He's not really the touchy-feely type with most people," Newt stage-whispers. Illia lets out a bark of laughter, and Jacob gives a chuckle himself from behind the stove where he's cooking what looks like eggs. Hermann doesn't dignify the quip with a response, but Newton crosses the few feet between them and leans up against him as if to prove his own point. Hermann is very suddenly aware of every single inch of skin that Newt is in contact with, and it's all he can do to not jerk away and ruin the illusion of affection between them. Well, Hermann thinks, does it really count as an illusion if he's only just suppressing the fact that he's hopelessly lost on the man?

"Hermann, you want toast?" Illia asks, pulling Hermann's attention away from his thoughts and to where Newt's uncle is opening a bag of bread.

"Ah, that would be wonderful, thank you." Then after a beat, "You wouldn't happen to have tea?"

"Aha! We anticipated this," Jacob says triumphantly, opening a cupboard and pulling down a little box of assorted teas. "Newt said you liked tea, but we didn't really know what kind, so I hope you can find something you like in there," he says, tossing Hermann the box which bounces out of his hands and Newt ends up catching for him instead. Newton looks up at Hermann mischievously, box in hand, and holds it out and away from him.

"I'm not-- fighting you-- for this--" Hermann huffs, making swipes for the tea box anyways.

"Ooh, you know Hermann, I think I'm actually a bit of a fan of tea myself. I'll use this, and you can have my coffee, because I know you love how I prepare it." Hermann makes a face at him, and Newt laughs.

"I could conclude that you're half hummingbird with how much sweetener you add; it's almost more sugar than coffee," Hermann grumbles, continuing to make half-hearted grabs for the box of tea in Newt's hand. "Give it back now, I'd like my morning tea," Hermann scowls without any real venom behind the gesture. He is, however, decidedly bored with reaching across Newt to try and grab the box, so he lunges forward suddenly and catches the box with his fingertips. It flies from Newt's hand and lands dangerously close to the stove, where Illia stops it before it can fall into the open flame.

"Careful now, or neither of you will get any," Illia says with an amused-but-stern look, placing the box firmly in Hermann's hands. Hermann swallows.

"Right. Where would your kettle be...?" Newt helps him get everything he needs to heat up the water and set the tea to steep while Newt's father and uncle finish making breakfast.

"It's nice to have some young souls in the house again," Jacob chuckles when they've all gotten their food and are gathered around the bar again. Hermann could argue that he and Newt are hardly young-- They're still something like half the age of Jacob, but the stress of the war lent itself to them aging faster than they should've. But then Newt smiles at him, and Hermann decides to let it slide.

Despite the fact that they had spent most of the previous day sitting around the house and chatting, Hermann feels particularly unprepared for the activity that they have planned for today-- that activity being, visiting a hot spring a ways away from the Geiszler household. Hermann isn't averse to relaxing in warm water (he's even looking forward to that part specifically; he can feel his leg protesting from the cold when he steps outside, and more so than usual it's had a constant, dull ache that he can't get rid of), but he is... hesitant, to spend the whole day in a swimsuit with Newton who will also be in a swimsuit. He doesn't let himself linger on the image-- he'll have... plenty of time to process the real thing over the course of the afternoon.

Hermann rubs the back of his neck and tugs a dresser drawer open, looking for his swim clothes. He hears Newt enter the room behind him and waves a silent greeting, not removing his focus from the task at hand until he selects his swim trunks and shirt. He starts turning towards where Newt is, and then immediately spins back around to look at the wall with a sputter.

"Newton, do you mind warning me before you change clothing?" he hisses, ears warming. Newt snorts behind him.

"What, all those times with the emergency shower weren't enough to let you get a good look at my hot bod?"

"You still had your clothes on! That is not nearly the same!"

"Oh, like that left much to the imagination anyways. My shirts aren't exactly opaque when soaked with water, you know?"

"I make it a point to not remember such details!"

"If I got a chance to see my hot and sexy coworker's cool as fuck tattoos, I'd remember them forever."

"I think staring long enough to make out what the mess of color you call tattoos consists of would count as workplace harassment."

"So you do remember what I looked like!" Newt teases, a mock triumphant edge in his voice. "You can turn back around now, by the way." Hermann obliges, though somewhat hesitantly, and finds that Newt is still pulling a shirt on and just glimpses his belly before the fabric settles down. He's changed out of his standard skinny jeans and has loose swim trunks with a swirling blue pattern in their place.

"Couldn't you change at the springs? Your father said they had bathrooms." Hermann tilts his head to one side. "Won't you freeze on the way there?"

Newt starts digging through his suitcase on the floor beside the bed which, unlike Hermann, he had elected to not unpack. "Remember the other day? I'm practically a space heater, I'll survive a few minutes in a climate controlled car," he laughs.

"As long as you don't mind sitting on the cold seat with uncovered legs, I suppose."

"Sitting on a cold seat beats out having to stand half-naked in an unheated bathroom stall while I try to get changed," Newt says with a look back at Hermann over the top of the bed. Hermann carefully puts his swim clothes into a smaller drawstring backpack.

"Mhmm. You wouldn't happen to have a towel I could borrow?"

"Yeah dude, let me go grab you one." Newt walks out of the room, and Hermann stares after him, vague images of the splashes of color across his torso still playing through his mind.

When they arrive, the springs are pleasantly crowded. They're not alone by any stretch of the imagination, but most of the swimmers are adults chatting quietly in groups, which Hermann is thankful to see. He's not sure if he would be able to deal with screaming children on top of his wound up nerves.

"I'll see you out in the pool, huh Hermann?" Newt's shivering, but he winks at Hermann as he, Jacob, and Illia all make their way to the changing area. It is indeed cold, and Hermann finds himself hesitating to take off his jacket. He feels his arms and the back of his neck get goosebumps as soon as he hangs it up and moves to get dressed as quickly as possible.

By the time he's able to lower himself into the warm spring-water with relief, Hermann is shivering so hard he can't bring himself to focus on much else. Thus, he's taken slightly by surprise when he looks towards Newt's voice and finds him shirtless. He casts his eyes to the sky immediately, but he finds that the image is engraved in the back of his eyelids when he blinks. You are not some hormonal young schoolboy anymore, Gottlieb, you can handle seeing your co-worker in swim trunks, he half-thinks-half-mutters to himself.

"Hermann, you good dude?" he feels a hand on his shoulder and startles back to see Newt again. His eyes drag down Newt's torso, taking in how his tattoos curl and twist down his abdomen and over the twin chest scars, before snapping back up to look him in the eyes.

"Perfectly," he manages. Newt gives him a long look, eyebrows raised, and Hermann decides to attribute the sudden heat his upper half is feeling to the water, despite most of it still being well out of reach of the springs.

"Uh huh." Hermann winces at the doubt in his voice. For a man who'd been wrestling with his emotions for years on end, he's once again feeling particularly underprepared. He sets his jaw anyways.

"I am perfectly well, Newton," he repeats with a hard expression. "Look, there's your father and uncle. Shall we go back to the edge so they can join us?" Newt makes a face at him and floats back to the edge to greet Jacob and Illia without further argument.

In retrospect, that might have come off colder than Hermann had intended, but no matter. It would surely help to have Newton not treat him so well, he thinks to himself as he comes up behind him. Regardless of whatever feelings he had assumedly hurt, though, when he pulls up beside Newt he shifts closer and grabs Hermann's hand, lacing their fingers together. It seemed that Newt was more interested in upholding their pretend relationship than he was in wallowing in bruised feelings. Bugger.

It takes far, far too long for Hermann's liking before his brain stops short circuiting every time he catches an eyeful of Newt's tattoos, and they're already halfway through their time-slot before he can make himself fully relax (Newt also still hadn't let go of his hand yet, which may have contributed to the problem). With that out of the way, however, the warmth of the water, the gentle lull of the others in the spring, and the eased pain from his leg causes his eyelids to lower on their own. He gives a long yawn and rubs the hem of his swim shirt between a thumb and forefinger.

"Probably not a great idea to fall asleep in the pool, old man," Newt comments, eyes closed.

"I'm older than you by less than a year you ass," Hermann shoots back with no venom. Newt cracks an eye open.

"Grandpa." Hermann snorts and leans back against the wall. Newt is slouched over in such a way that the water is up to his chin, but Hermann knows he'd never feel the end of it if he tried such a thing himself. "Feel free to lean against me or whatever," Newt adds as though he had been reading Hermann's mind. After hesitating for a moment, Hermann grunts a thank you and shifts lower on the concrete steps, leaning back against Newton's submerged legs with a relaxed sigh. The water places a comfortable weight on his chest and he allows his eyelids to close.

When they open again an indeterminable amount of time later, it's to a fully-clothed Illia poorly holding down a laugh with his phone camera held up to capture Hermann and Newt. Hermann scrambles up, letting go of Newt's hand (They had held the contact that whole time?) and rousing the other man in the process.

"You two are so cute," Illia grins, putting his phone in his pocket. "Anyways, we need to leave now, so you should go get dressed." He winks at Hermann as he turns back towards the changing rooms and the exit. Newt starts to stand and then groans with a shiver, sliding back into the water until only his eyes are visible. He says something, but all that comes across are gurgles.

"Pardon?"

"It's fucking freezing," Newt repeats, tilting his chin out of the water.

"You only just noticed this?"

"No, but it just so happens that I've been sitting in hundred degree water for the past two hours," Newt huffs.

"Come on, boys!" Illia's voice carries from the dressing room.

"You'll at least feel better once you've dressed." Hermann pokes at Newt's shoulder to move, and he slowly goes into motion.

"If I die of hypothermia between here and my dry clothing I'm blaming you," he mutters, keeping in stride with Hermann's slightly slower pace anyways.

"Charming."

They've eaten dinner and are sitting quietly in the Geiszler's living room when Hermann's phone buzzes in his pocket. He finishes the sentence of the book he's got open (The Jane Austen Book Club; He'd brought along a few books like Journey to the Center of the Earth and Around the World in Eighty Days, but the plane ride had taken longer than he'd expected and he'd accidentally burned through both on the way over and had been forced to resort to whatever the Geiszlers had on hand) and opens his phone screen to be greeted by a text from probably Illia (how had he gotten his number?) with the photo of Hermann and Newt asleep in the springs. Hermann can feel the familiar warmth in his face and glances up at Illia, who is doing something in the kitchen and valiantly not making eye contact.

From his spot close to Hermann on the couch, Newt leans over to catch a look at Hermann's phone and snorts before he can close the photo.

"Can't even catch a break from my own family, huh?" Newt calls over the back of the couch while Hermann inwardly sighs and adds Illia to his phone's contacts.

"Pretty sure that's what uncles are for, boy," Illia chuckles.

When Hermann wakes up the next morning, Newt's end of the bed isn't already cold like it had been on the first two days. Well- it is cold, probably, but that's because Newt had migrated across the bed overnight and now has both arms and a leg flung over Hermann from behind. It takes him a moment to realize what's going on, exactly, and his body stiffens for a moment before Newton starts shifting behind him and he forces himself to relax again in order to not disturb the other man further.

Though he's loath to admit it, it feels nice; domestic, almost. A dangerous thought, but there's not much he could do about it without disturbing Newt, and knowing how little sleep the man gets on a regular basis he's not particularly tempted to cut the rest short. So, he sighs quietly and curls into the touch, breathing in the oddly pleasant scent of Newt's shirt from close around him.

Hermann doesn't wake again until he feels Newt unthreading his arms from Hermann's, and elects to keep his eyes closed and lay still instead of dealing with the... repercussions, which would come along with acknowledging that they had been no less than spooning. Newt sits on the bed for a few minutes once he's untangled, and Hermann's already almost fallen asleep again when he hears Newt say something he doesn’t quite catch, before getting dressed and hurrying out of the room with a quiet cough.

With Newton's absence, Hermann finds that he can't fall back asleep and sits up bleary-eyed after a few minutes. The places on his skin where Newt had been making contact are still warm, and Hermann leans against the wall and closes his eyes again for a moment. He thinks back to all the little gestures Newt had made over the past two days; all the pet names, all the casual contact. His stomach turns over and over; all things that Hermann had only ever expected to happen in his daydreams. He's so full of pent up emotion he's not sure he'll make it the rest of the week at this point without making some mistake he'd never recover their friendship from.

Rubbing his arm where Newt had laid his own across it, Hermann lets out another breath and slips off the bed to get dressed.

It will be a long trip.

That evening after the sky has dipped to black, the Geiszlers are passing around a guitar and each playing a song in turn. Hermann had been told that it was a holiday tradition of sorts, sharing music and cheering each other on. Newton particularly seems to have a penchant for the thing, though his voice doesn't exactly lend itself towards singing, Hermann realizes with a suppressed cringe. He claps politely at the end anyways, smiling to himself privately about the fact that despite his decidedly ameteur ability, Newton had still pursued music far more than Hermann had (He still remembers Newt's mentions of his band the Black Velvet Rabbits back from their letter-writing years, and wonders if Newt had graced the stage with the same... unique vocals).

After all 3 of the Geiszlers had taken a few turns, Hermann rejecting the offer with a shake of his head each time and a murmured "Oh, I don't play", Newton shoves the instrument into his hands anyways.

"You thought you could get away without playing huh?" He grins. "It's impolite to lie, y'know." Hermann and the other two men stare at him. "Oh, c'mon. You don't remember mentioning it in your letters? I mean, I guess I forgot for a little bit too but you're the one who wrote the damn things." Hermann does remember, with a jolt, that he had mentioned the instrument on no less than 3 occasions. It hadn't been a lie; Hermann did-- does-- know how to play the guitar. He'd been playing it since childhood, even. He had started upon his father's insistence he play a string instrument, to be ‘more well rounded’, and had picked up the guitar instead of the expected orchestral string instrument mostly to spite Lars. Nevertheless, it had quickly become a source of comfort on bad days to sing along quietly in his room as he played.

"It's been a while and I don't want to subject you to my, er. Skills," Hermann lies flatly. Newton raises his eyebrows.

"I know I'm not exactly great either, so that's a shit excuse. Just play something little for us, please?" Newt stares at Hermann with round eyes, and he sighs and shifts the instrument to the proper playing position. Newt claps his hands at the wordless gesture, eyes crinkling in excitement. Hermann looks down at the guitar in his hands before he can think about how lovely Newt is, even when he's coercing Hermann into things he doesn't want to do.

"Just something short," Hermann mutters quietly, mind racing to what he should play. Truthfully, he doesn't have any songs memorized apart from things he had played about... Well, songs he had learned or made up about Newt while they had been writing. And also maybe a few from during their PPDC days, while Hermann still pines helplessly from his side of the lab.

He finally settles on something, clears his throat, and starts quietly playing a rendition of Please Never Fall In Love Again by Ollie, MN. It's a somewhat guilty favorite of his; easy enough to play, as well as relaxing to listen to. If he’s lucky, Newton will interpret the lyrics only as an addition to the layers of their pretend relationship.

When he concludes the song, still quiet, Newt's father and uncle clap like they had for the rest of the performances. Looking to Newton, however, Hermann finds the man staring at him, mouth ajar. His stomach drops a little.

"Like I said, I haven't played in some time--" he starts, but Newt cuts him off.

"That was sick."

"Oh-- er, thank you," Hermann manages, feeling his ears start to heat against his will.

"I can't believe you've never even played for me!" Newt exclaims, breaking out of his supposed stupor. "Dude, your voice is incredible!" Hermann looks away, desperately trying to cool off before he flushes beet-red. The other Geiszler men laugh.

"Dating and you still can't bring yourself to share sappy songs with the love of your life, eh Hermann?" Illia laughs good-naturedly. Looking to Newt, he says in a stage-whisper, "I'd bet he's been smitten with you for longer than you thought!" Newton glances back at his uncle with a grin.

"You think so?"