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"No, but see, it makes perfect sense. I mean they're all coming to attack us, but they're all so different," Newt says around a mouthful of whatever is passing for food in the mess these days. "Why would a whole heap of giant monsters with such differing characteristics band together to take us out if they weren't being told to?"
"Really, Newton? You said it yourself--they are giant monsters. Who in their right mind would create something so ostentatiously large to fight us?" Hermann responds with a withering glare. "If they could do that, they'd clearly have technology far superior to ours and could simply overpower us."
"Maybe it's worked for them before. I don't know--I'm not tapped into their thought processes. Besides, we built giant fucking robots to fight back, so who are you to judge right-mindedness?" Newt shoves another large forkful into his mouth and stares at Hermann smugly.
"Ours was a reactionary and defensive position." Hermann sniffs. "It is far more likely--"
"That giant monsters are just wandering blindly into a wormhole and ending up here? Yeah, that makes so much more sense." Newt waves his fork expansively and then points it at Hermann. "You don't even know where they're coming from on this planet. It could be a wormhole to another part of the galaxy--the universe--or another dimension entirely. You've got no idea. Hell, I've got no idea what you're writing on that board of yours half the time. It could be a recipe for Pasta Marinara in hieroglyphics for all I know." Newt looks down with a frown. "Yanno, if it is a recipe could you give it to the cooks? It can't be any worse than whatever this-"
"For god's sake, Newton. Shut up." Hermann reaches up and tugs lightly on the hair at the base of Newt's scalp.
As expected, Newt whimpers and his eyes dilate and he stares off into space in blessed silence.
"Holy shit, he has an off switch? You found his off switch? How did you do that?" Tendo says leaning over from the next table and staring at the suddenly silent Newt with wide eyes.
"Just wait. It's barely worth the silence it affords," Hermann responds blithely as Newt shakes his head and turns a glare on Hermann.
"What the fuck, Hermann?!" Newt shouts, standing up and pushing away from the table. "Fuck you. And fuck you too, Tendo. If you so much as think about-"
"Keeping my hands to myself, my man," Tendo says raising said hands up by his head defensively.
"You will fucking pay for this," Newt says to Hermann and grabs his tray before storming away from the table, bussing his tray angrily, and slamming out through the doors.
"I do not envy you the retribution coming your way. The tiny, angry retribution." Tendo says and Hermann looks skyward for a moment, shakes his head, and returns to his meal.
-*-
Three hours later, the Shatterdome has quieted for the night and Hermann is halfway up his ladder working through a problem for the third time. The lab is silent--Newt having been absent since he'd stormed out of the mess at dinner--and Hermann would have thought that would make him more productive, but at some point he'd gotten used to the inane chatter and constant background awareness of there being someone else in the room. He's sighing and considering turning in for the night when the lab door clangs open and Newt's storming in, ripping off his leather jacket and tossing it towards a chair on his side of the room. It's bloody-minded stubbornness and a sense of anticipation that keep him up on the ladder, ignoring the whirlwind heading towards him.
"Are you over your little temper-tantrum then?" Hermann asks in a derisive tone, not turning around.
"Is that what you think that was? Fuck you," Newt snaps and Hermann can hear Newt stomping over to his side of the room.
"I'm so terribly sorry for wanting to eat without your constant yammering," Hermann says with a roll of his eyes, scribbling off a few more symbols before realizing he's on the wrong track. He'd dust off part of the board, but he doesn't want Newt to think he's that distracting.
"Sure. That's why you did it. I know you, asshole."
The ladder is shifting and Hermann glances over his shoulder to see Newt climbing up behind him.
"What in blazes are you doing?! Get down at once," Hermann spits, shoving back with an elbow to try and dislodge Newt before he can climb higher. Newt simply butts his elbow out of the way and snugs himself up against Hermann's back, snaking his hand around to grab the rung in front of Hermann's chest.
"You need to know if you're going to pull that shit in public, you're not going to get away with it." Newt's got a foot one rung above Hermann's feet, the other a rung higher, leg wrapped around Hermann's and holding him in place.
"You really think this is the best way to tell me off?" Hermann says with a snort. He can feel the knuckles of Newt's hand pressing against his ass and hears the sound of a zip, then he can feel the unmistakable shape of Newt's hard dick pushing against his ass.
"You think I want people knowing how to shut me up? You think I want you knowing how to shut me up? You complete fucking asshole." Newt's hand is reaching around and cupping him through his trousers--he's hard already and he feels his cheeks flare with heat at the realization that Newt knows how into this he is. "Yeah, you know you're an asshole." Newt unzips Hermann's trousers and pulls him out and pumps him as he starts to rub against Hermann's ass. "You doing this on purpose, huh? Getting me annoyed so I'll get you off? You've done it, what? 12? 13 times in the past two months?"
"Even if--" Hermann has to pause and adjust his grip on the ladder, locking his good knee and pressing his hips hard into the rungs for stability. "Even if that were true, you little gobshite, do you think positive reinforcement is the best way to make me stop?"
"Oh, this isn't positive reinforcement." There's an edge in Newt's tone that Hermann can't quite decipher. "This is payback."
Hermann rests his head on the rung and bites back a moan as looks down at Newt's hand working him and the ground far below. He wasn't an idiot, he locked the wheels before he climbed up here, but he hopes the ladder can take this kind of abuse. "How is rubbing me off up a ladder payback for making you shut up, pipsqueak?" Hermann moans as Newt's grip tightens--gibes about his height always rile Newt up and Hermann can't find it in himself to stop making them.
"You will see. You will fucking see, you fucking arrogant shit." Newt laughs into Hermann's back and his hips are working harder against his ass. Hermann can feel Newt's breath through his blazer, vest and shirt, and teeth digging into his shoulder blade. That might be Newt's tongue pressing against the material and he might be kissing Hermann's back in between huffs and grunts, but Hermann is far too focused on staring at Newt's hand and wishing he could thrust into it to care.
"Faster, runt," Hermann pants, fingers so tight on the rungs he'd have serious concerns about splintering if it weren't for the steady pressure building in his bollocks. "My arthritic grandmother has a tighter grip than you," he spits and Newt snorts against his back.
"What's your arthritic grandmother doing touching your dick, you sick fuck?" Newt asks, laughing like he just won the argument and then groaning as he grinds harder into Hermann's ass.
Hermann huffs--unwilling to lose the argument so easily--and tilts his head back, knocking it none too lightly against Newt's and growling. "A better job than you." Hermann wants to move, wants to do something, but he's effectively wedged in between Newt and the ladder and as much faith as he has in it, he doesn't want to tempt fate and bring them all crashing down. He's trying to convince himself that he doesn't need anything else to get him off--as long as Newt keeps working him he'll eventually tip over the edge--when Newt flicks a finger over the end of his dick, smearing the precum down his shaft, and he's pressing his forehead into the rung swearing as he cums, shooting out into the air.
Newt lets go of his dick as soon as Hermann slumps against the wood, breathing heavily, and grips the rung tightly, starting to rut faster as he mutters into Hermann's back. "Fuck you... in fucking public, you fucking asshole... crossed the fucking line... fuck your fucking clothes and your fucking pompous fucking attitude and most of all fuck. you." Newt grunts as he cums, digging his teeth in to Hermann's blazer in a way that will surely leave a mark, and thrusting hard up against his back.
"I still don't... understand how that... was supposed to be punishment," Hermann says, breathing heavily and turning his head to the side to look at Newt over his shoulder.
Newt reaches up and pats Hermann on the cheek condescendingly. "I hope whatever you just came on was important."
Hermann looks over at the bottom of the board and sees the trails of cum sliding down through yesterday's equations and lets out a huff of amusement as Newt peels himself off Hermann's back. "I always work from top to bottom. You know that."
Newt laughs as he makes his way down the ladder, trailing his hand from the small of Hermann's back, down his leg to his ankle. "Then I hope you have a good time explaining to the night shift how you got 'egg white' all over yourself. In the lab. At 10pm."
Hermann twists around and sees Newt smearing some of his cum over the back of Hermann's calf and narrows his eyes. "You shit. You complete and utter shit," Hermann sneers, shaking his leg to dislodge Newt's hand.
Newt dances out of the way of Hermann's foot and around to the blackboard. He wipes his hand through Hermann's cum, snorts and looks up. "High-five for hatesex," he says and slaps his hand against the front of Hermann's trousers near the crotch leaving a perfect handprint.
"You will pay for this, Geiszler," Hermann hisses.
"Nope. This makes us even." Newt looks up at Hermann with deadly seriousness. "What happens between us, stays between us. You don't use that shit against me in public, and I won't make sure everyone sees how much time you spend with your clothes covered in cum. Understand?"
Hermann's still glaring down at Newt, half of his brain trying to figure out how to get back to his quarters without anyone seeing the state he's in--the parka certainly won't cover it--and the other half trying to come up with a suitably vicious epithet to lob in Newt's direction.
Deep down, he knows it was unfair to reveal that weakness in public--especially given half the Shatterdome's sincere desire to shut Newton up at any given time. He wants to argue, but finds himself huffing instead. "Fine. The lab or our respective quarters only."
"Deal." Newt says then he's reaching up to bat Hermann's soft dick where it's still hanging out of his pants, and walking away. "Later, asshole."
Hermann watches him go, glaring until the door swings shut behind him.
Maybe one day, he'll stop goading Newt into these encounters.
He turns back to the board and blinks up at it before reaching over to wipe away part of the equation with the side of his hand. He makes a few quick scribbles and it suddenly makes much more sense.
He doesn't think he'll be stopping any time soon.