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Hermann is gingerly stepping off the ladder and walking slowly towards his desk, knee throbbing with every step when Newt bursts in through the lab doors and makes a beeline towards him.
"How many more of those fucking incident reports are you going to submit? 'Lab always smells vaguely of ammonia', are you fucking kidding me?" Newt says crowding up against him and Hermann hisses and pushes him away.
"Not now, Geiszler, you insufferable twit," Hermann growls and continues towards the desk but Newt's still in his space.
"No, that's not how this works. You're an asshole, and then we have hatesex. That is how this works." Newt says and his hands are on Hermann's shoulders marching him toward the desk.
"I'm an asshole?!" Hermann glares and he's taking a deep breath to tell Newt exactly what he thinks of that when Newt shrugs.
"I'm always an asshole. We just haven't found your breaking point yet. Now get up on the fucking desk." Newt smacks his hand on the table and gives Hermann a harsh look.
"For god's sake, Newton, I am in pain," Hermann spits, yanking open the drawer and pulling out a bottle of pills. "I am not in the mood for these little games." He knocks two back and washes them down with a swig of lukewarm tea, slamming the cup back in the saucer hard enough to make it slosh.
Hermann grabs a pad and a pen and pushes past Newt, heading into the small alcove behind his workspace and lowering himself down onto the couch hidden away from the main area. Shoving a cushion under his knee, he settles in to continue working.
Half an hour later, there's a crash as Newt drops something followed by muttered swearing. Hermann purses his lips and continues working.
"You feeling any better yet?!" Newt yells from his side of the lab and Hermann lets out an exasperated sigh.
"No!" He shouts back and tries to focus on his work. He hears Newt muttering angrily and the sound of things being tossed carelessly onto a tray and then for another twenty minutes there's relative silence.
"How about now?!" Newt yells and Hermann's hand tightens on the pen.
"Fuck. Off. Newton." Hermann calls back in a singsong dripping with ire.
Thirty-five minutes after that he hears Newt clomping up the stairs and peering around the corner at him.
"Seriously, dude. Now?" Newt’s staring at him and there’s a furrow of confusion marring his brow -- as though he isn’t quite sure how to handle the fact that he’s taking Hermann’s feelings into account.
Hermann huffs and drops his pad and pen onto the floor beside him. "Oh for... Fine. Get down here." Hermann drops his foot to the floor to give Newt room between his legs and glares up at him. "But I am not doing anything." He unbuckles and pushes his trousers down far enough to pull his dick out before sitting back and waiting for Newt to move.
"Fine, fine, sure, whatever man," Newt says and disappears around the corner. Hermann strokes himself idly as he listens to Newt rustling in his desk and then he's back with the lotion and kneeling in the space provided.
"Be careful," Hermann grumbles at Newt as he jostles his knee.
"Pipe down, gramps," Newt says and unzips, pushing his pants down over his hips and squeezing some lotion into his palm. Newt rubs himself to hardness and continues pumping himself while staring at Hermann's chest with a glare.
"This isn't a peep show, Geiszler." Hermann glares, gesturing at his crotch emphatically.
"Oh no, nope. No. Not touching your dick right now," Newt says throwing a glare up at Hermann before returning his stare to Hermann's collar. "I'm gonna fuck up your shirt for making me spend two hours with HR going over your stupid reports."
Hermann rolls his eyes and reaches up to grab Newt by his ridiculous tie and yank him forward. Newt yelps as he sprawls over Hermann, arms flailing and now there's a lotion handprint on his shirt but it's not the worst thing this shirt's had done to it.
"Touch me, you ruddy ingrate," Hermann growls into Newt's ear and tightens his grip on the tie until Newt wraps his hand around the both of them and sets a punishing pace. "You live for the days that HR calls you down to deal with your mess -- can't wait to get your hands on me afterwards."
Newt mumbles in the negative and Hermann gives his tie another hard tug before letting go and working his hand around Newt's body to get a good handful of hair and tug his head to the side. He drags his teeth down Newt's exposed throat and bites lightly, not hard enough to leave a mark, but just enough to make Newt shudder and drop his head to Hermann's shoulder.
"I know you've been trying to break me," Hermann murmurs in a low pitch beside Newt's ear. "Pushing and pushing to find the thing that will make me snap, shove you up against a wall, and take myself in hand until I come all over your belly. Is that what you want? Do you want me to claim you? Claim you as you've claimed me?"
Newt's shaking his head against Hermann's shoulder and whimpering, but his hand is moving faster. Hermann lets out a smugly satisfied moan and reaches around to grab a handful of Newt's ass, pushing down slightly as his hips rock minutely up into Newt's hand.
"Good boy," Hermann says in the same low pitch as Newt squeezes and whines. "You think you're subtle? You want to know I like what you do to me, don't you? You want to be the one to get me off? Do it, Newton--make me cum."
Newt presses his forehead harder into Hermann's shoulder and Hermann can feel his lips moving against the fabric--licking, sucking, he can't actually see which, but at this stage it's not exactly unusual behavior. Newt's hand focuses on the tips of their cocks, squeezing tightly and whipping back and forth over the sensitive heads. Hermann's teeth press into the taut tendon of Newt's neck and he closes his eyes and tightens his grip in Newt's hair as he feels Newt shudder and start to come. Newt's hand keeps moving, slicker now, and that's all it takes for Hermann to follow, grunting against Newt's neck and squeezing his ass tightly.
Newt collapses forward onto him, face nuzzling the lapel of Hermann's blazer as he squirms through the aftershocks. Hermann relaxes back into the couch, replete with his own release, and loosens his grip on Newt's hair, stroking through it lightly as his other hand rubs Newt's back.
They lay there in silence broken only by their heavy breathing until Newt pushes himself up and looks at Hermann with a frown.
"That wasn't very... angry," Newt says, blinking down at Hermann in confusion.
"No, it wasn't," Hermann agrees, hands stilling--even after all this time, he has no idea how Newt will respond to this situation. There are not very many situations in which Hermann can accurately guess what Newt's reaction will be.
"I don't... What does this mean?" Newt's staring down at him and Hermann's trying to work out an answer that will satisfy both of them and finds that he can't.
"Does it have to mean anything?" Hermann asks.
"I just... I don't get this." Newt is saying and he's adjusting his position to rest on his elbows as if laying between Hermann's legs with their dicks pressed together is the most natural way for them to converse. "I mean, you hate me. And I hate you. I think."
"Newton, we've been getting off together for 6 months now. How did it not sink into that incredibly thick head of yours that I might not actually hate you?" Hermann rolls his eyes--this is what he gets for thinking Newt might have the tiniest speck of self-awareness.
"Dude, you pull my hair, call me names, shove me around. I dunno, I thought we were just blowing off steam. I didn't really look that deeply into it." Newt adjusts his glasses and shrugs. Hermann can see that he's not lying.
"You blew me for my birthday. Without expecting anything in return. People who hate each other don't do things like that," Hermann says and has a sudden pang of worry that he'd misread that blowjob--until now he hadn't realized there was a way to misinterpret a blowjob.
"It was your birthday, dude. I can't afford shit right now. What was I supposed to do?" Newt's pulling a face at him like he's lost his marbles.
"Clearly I've misunderstood," Hermann says pushing at Newt's shoulders and trying to get up.
"No, no, wait," Newt says going limp and holding Hermann down. "What did you think we were doing?"
Hermann huffs through his nose and looks past Newt, over his shoulder. "No strings attached rough sex. There was never any real hatred on my part--just infuriation..." Hermann shrugs and looks at Newt directly. "Complete and encompassing infuriation, granted."
"Huh," Newt says, and Hermann can see the cogs ticking over in his brain as he thinks. "So, you want... strings? Like, going steady?"
"Oh for--Get off me, you insufferable git." Hermann rolls his eyes and pushes Newt hard as he tries to roll out from under him.
"No, I mean, like... like, exclusive? Like, I don't fuck other people, you don't fuck other people, and we do... whatever it is people who don't fuck other people do?"
Hermann stills and looks at Newt out of the corner of his eye. "Perhaps..."
"Are you expecting, like, hearts and flowers? 'Cos I'm not really a hearts and flowers kind of guy."
"Were you dropped on your head as a child?" Hermann asks narrowing his eyes and staring at Newt with sincere disbelief. "I don't expect our activities would change all that much--your personality tends to be grating at best, I doubt I'll be able to resist the temptation to put you in your place."
"Asshole," Newt says slapping Hermann's shoulder and shaking his head, but there's an underlying current of affection in his tone and a small, amused smile on his face. "So, this is a thing, right? Is this a thing? I mean, I could be cool with that. You already know most of my weird kinks and stuff. So, uh, yeah. If, yanno, you wanted to."
"I, er, I suppose that, yes, it could be considered that we are a... thing." Of all the things Hermann had expected when he'd come to the lab that morning, a relationship was not one of them.
"Does this mean you're not going to kick me out of your quarters after sex now?" Newt asks tilting his head to the side with a raised eyebrow.
"Sometimes," Hermann concedes before shooting a pointed look at Newt. "You will be doing your own laundry from now on."
Newt pulls a face. "Fair." Newt tilts his head to the side for a moment, looking at Hermann hesitantly. "Is kissing a part of this deal?"
"It... can be," Hermann says and Newt's hesitance seems to be bleeding through to him--he'd never imagined that, after all the things they'd already done together--to each other--this would be the thing to make them pause.
"Um. Now? I'm kinda at the point where I can't remember what it's like to kiss someone and not have a sore mouth after..." Newt asks and he's leaning slightly forward.
Hermann can feel Newt's breath hot on his face and he reflexively licks his lips and nods, lips parting slightly as he watches Newt hover above him.
"This feels weird," Newt says quietly looking between Hermann's lips and his eyes.
"We don't have to..." Hermann says, tensing.
"No, I mean... I thought I hated you three minutes ago. I hadn't really thought about doing this, like, at all." Newt's focused on Hermann's lips, turning his head first to the left, and then to the right, as though if he could just find the right angle it would stop feeling awkward. "I'm not the most introspective guy, yanno? Stuff happens and I roll with it and then it either keeps happening or it doesn't and that's that and, like, I never thought about kissing you. Ever. Not unless there was, like, anger and hair-pulling and biting and it's just--"
"Shut up, Newton," Hermann says, slumping back into the couch with a huff and a roll of his eyes, all the tension of anticipation gone with Newt's motormouth.
"No, I mean--" Newt's suddenly surging forward and his lips are pressing against Hermann's. His eyes are open and he's staring at Hermann a little wildly. "This is weird." he says without moving away, lips moving against Hermann's, nose pressed into his cheek. "You have to kiss back. It's team sport."
Hermann rolls his eyes and shakes his head despairingly. "You are a ridiculous little man," Hermann says against Newt's lips as he slides a hand up into his hair, fingers curling into the messy mane and lips softening as Newt sighs and relaxes against him.
It does feel odd--kissing as though a winner won't be declared at the end, as though it's about feeling good, not proving a point. Newton's lips are soft and pliant and he's moving against Hermann, unable to keep still even now, and there's a part of Hermann that thought this would be a failure--that it would require a concerted effort on both their parts to not bite and clash and vie for dominance. This feels... okay. It feels good. Newt suckles on Hermann's lower lip as he pulls back and Hermann thinks that maybe this wasn't such a terrible idea after all.
"That was... good? Wasn't it?" Newt asks, looking down at Hermann and reaching up to adjust his glasses. "It wasn't bad. We could, I mean, yanno, we could be guys who fuck hard and fight hard and sometimes... don't?"
"We could," Hermann agrees, fingers carding through Newt's hair gently and he's always wondered if it was the violence of the act that caused the reaction or if simply touching Newt's hair would have the same effect--judging by the way Newt's eyelids are hooded and he's struggling to keep his focus, Hermann would assume the latter. As he pulls Newt down into another kiss, he thinks to himself that he might get the chance to find out.
Newt's hips start rolling slowly in the same rhythm as their kissing and Hermann shudders and breaks away--he's not getting it up again any time soon.
"No round 2?" Newt asks with a smirk.
"I have work to do," Hermann replies with a pointed look.
"Hard work?" Newt waggles his eyebrows and his hips and Hermann thwaps his shoulder with a lazy hand and an unimpressed look.
"The Marshall wants these projections by the end of the week." Hermann gives Newt a stern stare and pushes at his shoulder.
"Fine. Hey, since we're not doing the thing where we wait until one of us is pissed off anymore, tonight--or tomorrow, or whenever your knee's feeling better--you're going to push my face into your desk and fuck me 'til I scream. Sound good?" Newt raises an eyebrow as he pushes himself into a kneel and tugs his pants up over his hips.
Hermann's breath catches in his throat and he stares at Newt for a moment, face blank as he imagines it. "Bring condoms and lubricant. My quarters at 8."
"Sweet!" Newt says with a bright grin and crawls off the couch to stand.
"Before you go back to work," Hermann says and starts undoing his buttons. "Bring me the clean shirt from the bottom drawer of my desk and put this in cold water to soak."
Newt rolls his eyes but does as he's bade and by the time he returns Hermann's struggling to get his blazer and shirt off his shoulders without getting up. Without a word, Newt kneels and pulls the shirt off the end of his arms, tossing the blazer over the back of the couch and balling up the shirt in his hands.
"Huh," Newt says, staring at Hermann with a frown that Hermann returns in confusion.
"What?" Hermann asks and then Newt's cupping the back of his head and leaning in to give him a deep kiss.
"I don't think I actually hated you," Newt says as he pulls back, licking his lips in embarrassment.
"You're not known for being quick on the uptake where people are involved," Hermann says with a shake of his head. "Apparently you, yourself, also fall under that banner."
Newt ducks his head and gives Hermann another quick kiss. "See you tonight," Newt says with a grin and stands. He looks down at Hermann for a moment and then raises a hand. "High-five for hatesex."
Hermann rolls his eyes, but he's raising his hand and pressing it against Newt's. Newt's fingers press between his and he's squeezing their hands together, palm to palm. Hermann looks up and there's a smile tugging at the corner of his lips that's reflected back on Newt's face, then Newt's bouncing out of the alcove and across the lab and they're back to being just two scientists trying to stop the end of the world.