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As far as Hermann Gottlieb was aware, there were two incorrect rumours that had followed Newt and himself wherever they went over the past several years. The first one was that they loathed each other, totally and completely and without restraint. The second one was that they were actually fucking like rabbits—Newt’s words when he relayed the rumour—whenever they had a spare moment.
“Apparently our hate sex is legendary,” Newt had cackled, and Hermann simply rolled his eyes.
Both were false, though neither of them cared enough to really do anything about it. The K-Science division had dwindled slowly and steadily due to cuts in funding, deaths, and people quitting to spend what they thought were their last days with their families. You learned quickly not to get caught up in superfluous things when you were doing the work of several people all at once, so neither of them bothered to correct such notions.
Oh, sometimes he loathed Newton Geizler and wanted nothing more than to kick him out of the lab and bar the door, but it wasn’t a constant urge (admittedly the closer they game to the brink of extinction, the more Hermann wanted to do so, but that was besides the point). They’d also only had sex twice before Hermann was ever aware of such a rumour, and would go on to do so three more times before their final transfer to Hong Kong. It was never particularly hateful, and five times over ten years was not really rabbit behaviour.
What people couldn’t seem to get into their tiny minds was that they’d spent a decade in each other’s company, and not the way one would typically associate with old friends. This was literally seeing the same face every single morning when you woke up (sometimes literally—they’d been forced to share a room while in Sydney for three years and it was awful), and having that face be the very last thing you’d see before you shut your eyes for the evening, if you had the privilege of not having to work through the night… again, with that same person.
And now they’d Drifted, and they hadn’t spoken about that yet.
They’d saved the world. Everyone was safe, and absolutely determined to celebrate that fact.
Hermann noticed when Newton had excused himself almost immediately, though politely waited for Tendo to finish speaking (and when that man was drunk, he could positively rival Newt when it came to enthusiastic communication) before leaving the party. He knew exactly where Newt would be, and sure enough, the biologist was sitting on his desk in the lab, already looking up at the doorway.
“Strange, I’m normally the one who leaves social events early.”
“Yeah. I was planning on taking a small break and then a small break turned into a slightly longer break…” Newt sighed, “I just wanted to take this all in before it got packed away.”
“How sentimental.”
“Well, one of us needs to be. This is ten freaking years in the making. You can’t just let it poof off without some sort of commemoration.”
Hermann nodded and leaned against the desk—which was mercifully free of Kaiju slime—and smiled, “I suppose this does warrant a… a moment.”
“Yeah, a moment.”
They could still sense each other. It was as though the hive mind structure of the Kaiju had left its mark, though they were mercifully free of any connection to the beasts themselves. With enough focus, fully formed thoughts would cross Hermann’s mind that weren’t actually his, but most of the time it was just… impressions. Feelings.
Something was making Newt worry, and sensing Hermann’s awareness—which Hermann in turn sensed, creating a very odd loop—he cleared his throat and said, “I’m just a little worried about what’s going to happen now. Which is stupid, because things are going to be better now, but they’ll be so different…”
“Change can be frightening, even if it’s positive.”
“Yeah…” he scratched the back of his head and then let out a small laugh, “dude.”
“Hm?”
“We drifted. With a Kaiju.”
“Yes, and it was terrible.”
“And awesome.”
“But mostly terrible.”
“Come on, were the contents of my brain really so awful for you?”
Hermann shook his head. The most surprising part of his Drift with Newt was how little of it was a surprise.
Newt was there when he and Vanessa got divorced, Newt yammering at him to take some time off and “screw whether or not it was a logical move and an amicable split, it’s still a big deal!” …which Hermann ignored because the best distraction was his work.
Hermann was there when Newt’s parents were killed in a Kaiju attack while on tour, something he did not ignore, because people processed pain in different ways and Newt couldn’t be left alone to work. He did not later accompany Newt to the tattoo parlor, because that seemed like an improper way to commemorate those you’ve lost. They’d fought about it for weeks afterwards.
Newt helped keep Hermann distracted through deliberate bickering when his family told him they didn’t want to hear from him ever again, and Hermann covered for Newt when he spent two hours vomiting in the bathroom because he accidentally ingested a Kaiju something or another but was too embarrassed to tell anyone.
Newt was the only one who knew that Hermann was an amazing cook who could create culinary masterpieces out of the horrible-tasting rations they were given, and Hermann was the only one who knew Newt could speak five languages other than English and German (six, if you counted Klingon, which Hermann never did, because “honestly Newton, you should be focusing on your work and not on Star Trek”).
They’d attended fifteen funerals, fucked five times, and fought more times than either of them could count. Newt did not like to be confined and Hermann valued his privacy more than anything else in the world, neither of which were attainable in Shatterdome life… yet they had a system. They worked. They were Drift compatible.
I guess a decade with the same person day in and day out leaves its mark, Newt ran a hand through his hair and smiled.
A small smile perked up the corners of Hermann’s mouth, The idea that we wouldn’t be Drift compatible didn’t even occur to me.
Duh. Of course we are. Could have told you that from day one. More or less anyways.
Oh?
“You never told me you liked planes,” Newt put a hand over his heart in mock-offense.
Hermann’s smiled widened and he moved to stand in front of Newt, positioning his hands on the table at Newt’s sides, “You don’t want to get me started on that topic.”
“Why, is it that much of a problem?” Newt paused, clearly scanning his mind for the answer, and then laughed, “oh my god, you’re a total fanboy. Oh my god, you had a blog-”
“-Tell no one.”
“That is so awesome.”
Hermann smiled, closed his eyes, and pressed his forehead against Newt’s, who leaned into the contact. They’d be separated soon—Hermann could practically feel both their inboxes filling with job offers at that very moment, and it’s not like either of them really favoured similar working environments anyways—but they still had whatever this strange relationship was. Besides, the other was now literally a thought away.
Newt laughed, obviously sensing his thoughts, “Don’t worry, Hermann. I’m a clingy bastard. You’ll never get rid of me.”
Hermann pulled back, Newt.
Doctor Gottlieb.
What do you want to do now? The celebration is still going strong.
“Hmm… party, shower, sleep, food. In that order.”
“Indeed.”
“And then maybe turn five times into six, if you know what I mean,” Newt winked and hopped off the table.
“I… I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“Come on. Let’s go be rock stars.”
“Fortune favours the brave?”
“We can test the effect of alcohol on the hive mind. Think I can get you drunk without you having to taste a drop?”
“I doubt that’s how it works.”
“Only one way to find out!”
Newt seamlessly rejoined the party as though he’d never left, and Hermann stayed by his side. It was strange, and no one could ever really understand why he was there in the first place, but it was certainly where he belonged.