Archive of Our Own

Newt eased the door open, wary of the creak of the hinges if he went further than just wide enough to squeeze through. He'd seen the dark windows from the street and didn't want to disturb Hermann more than absolutely necessary.

Hermann was working himself ragged, taking his graduate classes (because, Newt liked to tell the rest of the band repeatedly, he was a genius), working in the little used bookstore in the evenings along with being on-call at the bar on the weekends.

First seeing hermann in that booth, wearing his sweater-vest, and later a t-shirt over the sweater-vest, Newt would have never guessed he worked as a bartender. He desperately wanted to help dress him for those nights, but his own job was still a secret, and his regular wardrobe was almost as bad as Hermann's.

It wasn't a college bar; it was situated not too far away, and catered to the more adult crowd that wanted to go drink and watch sports rather than dance. It was actually, when Newt walked in and looked around, pretty perfect for Hermann. No loud music, no demands to be flirty or sexy. He didn't even need to be friendly as long as he kept getting the drinks the customers were asking for. Sports weren't Newt's thing, but he loved the place for letting Hermann be himself and making a pile of cash.

"You're back late," Hermann said, voice thick with sleep, as Newt tried to undress quietly.

"Yeah, sorry. Shit ran longer than I was expecting. Had some trouble at the studio"

"Nothing bad, I hope."

"Nope." It was the most plausible lie he'd managed to come up with, that he gave guitar lessons at the studio. It worked out pretty well to explain his finances and his odd schedule.

Hermann was already re-situating himself in bed and falling quickly back to sleep. "Dinner in the fridge…"

They'd ordered bad Chinese, which was a bummer because Hermann's cooking was way better than even mediocre Chinese food, so Newt just slipped under the covers next to him. He adjusted, then Hermann adjusted against him, and they were both comfortably asleep.

***

Hermann was walking from class to the student union to get some lunch when he was intercepted by Newt.

"Hi!"

"What are you doing here?" Hermann asked inelegantly, too tired to even be pleased to see Newt.

"I'm taking you to lunch." Newt hooked his arm through hermann's and began to lead them away from the union. He was undeterred by the sketchy greeting.

"But I-"

"Hermann, don't tell me you forgot!"

Instantly Hermann started to panic. "What? I…?" He started to rifle through his bag looking for his date book.

Newt laughed and hugged him close. "Three month anniversary!"

"Three months?" Hermann blinked. Had it really been three months? It felt like years, in the best way, that they'd been together.

"Dude, why don't you just keep all this info in your phone like other normal people?"

"Because I am not normal. You should already know this."

"Yeah, I do."

It wasn't a special lunch, just to the restaurant on the corner, but Newt insisted that they sit and have real food instead of the cold sandwich and chips Hermann had been intending on getting. With the weather getting to be much cooler, bordering on cold, it was nice to sit and eat some hot food in a padded chair rather than on a plastic bench. Being able to get a cup of hot tea rather than another pop. Sharing his time with Newt.

"Hey, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?" Newt asked with a mouthful of spaghetti.

"I don't do anything for Thanksgiving." At the sudden shocked look on Newt's face, Hermann had to explain. "I'm not from here, if you haven't noticed."

"Of course I noticed! I certainly didn't think you were faking that gorgeous accent, but hey, I'm not from here either. Don't think that stops me from getting totally stuffed!"

Hermann choked on a french fry.

"Ooh, did someone just have a naughty thought? Save it for tonight." With a bravado that would never fail to surprise Hermann, Newt leaned over and kissed him. "OK?"

Anniversary or not, Hermann wasn't going to refuse. "Will you be home for dinner?"

"Dinner is all on me tonight. You just come home with an appetite."

Newt was going to have to deal with Thanksgiving dinner, obviously. How Hermann could live in the US and not have the proper meal for the day was mind-boggling. It was the only thing on his mind as he stared up at the darkened ceiling of the bedroom with Hermann snoring lightly next to him.

The guy was working himself sick, but wouldn't listen at all when Newt told him he needed to relax. Since they were splitting rent, he didn't need to work so much, but absolutely refused to cut back on either job. Shit, Newt could easily pay for this little apartment all on his own, but Hermann would have none of it, and then he'd wonder how guitar lessons paid that much.

As it was, Hermann frowned whenever Newt paid for a meal, or bought him little things. Necessary things! Food, and tea, and laundry detergent, and just dumb stuff like that. They were both using it after all, and Hermann had to pay for his medication! He'd never asked Hermann about it, and Hermann hadn't tried to hide it, so Newt had looked up the stuff on the labels and made a discovery he wasn't super happy about (and he was pretty sure Hermann wasn't super happy about it either).

If Newt thought it would be possible to get away with, he'd pay for all that too. These were the types of thoughts that after only three months (a crazy short amount of time, but almost a lifetime for having a secret identity) had Newt thinking ahead further, more… permanently. It was scary as hell.

Hermann gave him a sleepy kiss on the jaw. "Go t'sleep."

"OK, babe." Newt kissed him on the forehead.

Things were getting complicated.

***

"Guys, I told you, he doesn't know!"

The Wei brothers just stood there and smiled at him.

"I haven't told him! I'm not embarrassed of him or you, but he doesn't know so I'm not gonna bring him in!" Newt waited for a response, getting more irritated by the moment. "Let's get started!" he snapped, and plugged his guitar in.

Not a single one of them moved, all just looking at him.

"What!?" Newt yelled, finally at his wit's end.

"You think we can't tell you're totally flustered by this guy?" Raleigh said at last, smirking.

"So what if I am? He's, like, totally my soul mate."

Raleigh continued to smirk.

"Oh," Newt continued, now on the verge of getting angry, "let me just go call Mako and have a chat-"

"All right, can we stop dicking around and start practice? I don't want to be here late again." Chuck was scowling from his place in the booth. Lately it seemed like he never stopped scowling.

But at the moment, Newt was inclined to agree both with the sentiment and the scowl.

Practice ended early, and Newt didn't feel like they'd accomplished very much. The vibe had been all wrong, and they hadn't been able to get on the same page together. Jesus, why was it so difficult to understand why he didn't want to tell Hermann about the band? Especially since he was a fan.

The one saving grace to the terrible session was that Newt was home before Hermann, and was able to start some dinner. It was nothing special, really just fancy bachelor food, but Herm hadn't complained about his food before. And he deserved to have someone take care of him, not just order out, but make something, like comfort food.

By the time Hermann got home, the macaroni and cheese was in the oven. Newt was just waiting to get the rest of the food on the stove.

"You're home early," Hermann said with surprise.

"Terrible day. Bailed on the studio, just wasn't feeling it. Had that boring-ass history lecture to grind out too, so I listened to it while I was cooking. Give me ten minutes and it'll all be done."

With a grateful smile, Hermann nodded, then retreated to the bedroom to change his clothes and warm himself up.

So what if Newt was in a band and took college courses online, and Hermann was a graduate student with two part-time jobs, and they'd been a couple of sad bachelors before they'd met? Together, Newt could see more for them.

If he could just figure out how to tell Hermann the truth.

***

"What is this?"

"Socks! Nice warm and thick socks. Because your feet are always freezing, and I'm sick of you putting them on me in bed."

"Newt. I-"

"They're a gift! I can't buy you gifts now?"

"I don't want you to spend your money on me. You should save it for real college courses."

Newt huffed and crossed his arms. "My online course are real college courses, and I am saving up. Jesus, Herm, you don't like them or don't want, just say it. Don't try and make it my fault that I was giving you a gift." The single time he tried to give Hermann a gift was when he got push-back. What a load of shit. Frustrated, and a little hurt, Newt grabbed the socks back. "Fine."

Newt slept on the couch. There were no cold feet on his feet that night.

***

One of the Wei triplets, he didn't care which his mood was so rotten, grinned at him.

Newt glared back and considered walking back out right there.

Luckily for the unidentified Wei, the grin slipped. "Something wrong?" he asked instead, and sounded sincere about it.

"Shitty night, two damned days before Thanksgiving. I already ordered the food and everything too, and I don't even know if we're gonna eat it."

Again the music wasn't working. There was no flow, no rhythm. And not only was there no passion, Newt didn't have any desire to even be there.

Chuck scowled as usual, while Raleigh looked uncomfortable as he put his guitar away. No doubt he was thinking of last practice and how upset Newt had been then.

"Yo, kids!" Tendo said as he opened the door. "Good news, asshats!"

Chuck's scowl was directed toward Tendo this time.

"This news will turn that scowl into a smile, Chuck! I just got a call."

"Congratulations. You can answer a phone."

"Be happy I can. That was the entertainment organizer for the Resolution Ball, and you bunch of grouchy jerks are going to be there to play a set!"

It took a long, quiet moment for the news to sink in.

"You're serious?" Newt asked, deadly serious himself.

"Abso-fucking-lutely. This is not something I would joke about. So, you all gonna put your big boy pants on and get your shit in gear or what?" Tendo looked at them all, hands on his hips, a vaguely manic grin on his face.

With his stomach both sinking and churning, Newt looked down at his battered guitar case. "OK, tomorrow we get our shit together. Day off for Thanksgiving?" He didn't wait for replies. "I'll come up with a set list tonight." With a sigh, not feeling it at all, but knowing this was, professionally, super important, and he needed to fight through it. "Night, guys."

Hermann heard the door, the familiar thunk of Newt's guitar case, the sound of the closet door as his coat was hung up, and… The silence that followed left an unpleasant heaviness in his chest. After an uncomfortable night alone in bed, he'd found the socks in the trash that morning after Newt had left (much earlier than he usually did), and had been in a self-hating mood all day because of it.

There was only one thing to do. Newt might have overreacted, but it had obviously hurt him that Hermann had so clumsily rejected the gift (even if it had been for the right reasons). And he hadn't been rejecting them! Why couldn't Newt see how those kinds of frivolous things were just… just… frivolous? It didn't even matter who was at fault or any reasons why they should or shouldn't be; Newt was hurt and Hermann felt sick, so he had to make the first move.

Newt was in the tiny "second bedroom", a space only big enough for either a desk or a twin bed, but not both (Hermann had chosen desk), working on something. But he wasn't using the desktop computer that Hermann had cobbled together from all kinds of spare and found parts, spending as little money on it as possible. No, Newt was busy scribbling away in his leather-bound memo book.

Standing in the doorway, watching, Hermann couldn't help but smile. Newt had all kinds of notebooks, memo pads, and notepads, none of which he let anyone else see.

"It's my music. It's just personal. Ideas and stuff. It's… embarrassing."

"I'm sorry," Hermann said finally, standing tall, refusing to look embarrassed by making the first gesture. "I wasn't rejecting your gift." He waited for some reaction; all he got was the stilling of Newt's hand, pen stopped with its nib on paper. "I just…"

They'd never really discussed finances, just went ahead and split things between them. It put more money in Hermann's pocket, for sure, but he'd lived so long scraping by it was almost impossible for him to just start spending money willy-nilly. He had plenty of perfectly good socks!

"I don't want you to spend money on me. It makes me feel uncomfortable."

Newt turned slowly and just looked at him.

"Not that I don't appreciate it. I'm simply… used to not having things. I can't return the gesture because..."

I don't have any money.

Hermann shrugged, and repeated, "I'm sorry." Now he thought it was a pretty good apology, certainly heart-felt and sincere, and honest. But when Newt stood, hand clutching the memo book like a vise, Hermann didn't feel nearly as good about that apology.

"I don't need another mother or accountant." Still hurt, and now he sounded angry even. With a face he was obviously trying very hard to keep emotionless, Newt started to walk past. In the doorway, he paused, and looked at Hermann. "Don't tell me how to spend my money. Don't try to run my life."

Hermann grabbed Newt's arm, caught off-guard by the strength in the man as he pulled away so that he stumbled and fell to the floor. At least he didn't cry out, no matter how much it hurt, and whether it was a flare-up or simply hitting his knee wrong when he fell, it didn't even matter. The strength Newt had in him as he was walking away…

Walking away. Leaving.

That hurt more than his leg or knee or his stomach that was empty more often than not or the cold that he couldn't shake from his bones or the degenerative disease slowly eating away at him. Then the words were rushing out of his mouth and lungs, even as he couldn't get enough air into them, and he felt so guilty and stupid and childish saying them, but he couldn't stop. "I'm sorry! Please. You're the only good thing in my life! Don't leave. Please don't leave." He groped blindly (when did he start crying?) for any part of Newt to take hold of.

"Hey." Newt's voice close to his ear, then an arm across his shoulders. "Hermann. Come on, stand up."

Newt's hands were warm, and his body was warm, his arms were strong, stronger than Hermann thought they'd be, as he somehow made it back to his feet. Both his leg and knee were now throbbing as he leaned into Newt. "I'm sorry," he repeated breathily. "I don't want to lose you."

"Dude." Carefully, slowly, Newt was taking them into the bedroom. "Hermann."

Shuffling steps until Hermann allowed himself to be lowered to the bed. His eyes were tightly shut the entire time.

"Babe, I'm not leaving you." Newt curled up next to him, arms around him. "I've never been called a good thing in anyone's life before. It's… kinda cool. Hey, hey…" Newt's hand smoothed over his forehead, brushing his hair away. "It's fine. I overreacted big time. I wouldn't leave you over socks."

Hermann clutched at Newt's shirt, burying his face in the material that smelled of fabric softener, the old dresser, Newt, and most importantly home.

"Hermann. Herm. Gorgeous. Babe. Sweetie pie. Honey cakes. My love muffin, listen. I'm sorry I made you feel like that about the socks. But I just love you and wanna take care of you, and it's so frustrating when you won't let me."

It had to be a dream. Muffled by having his face pressed into Newt's chest, Hermann said, "I love you too."

***

Newt returned with two big bags. "Happy Thanksgiving!" He paused, taking in Hermann's confused look. "What, you thought I actually cooked? Hell no! You've seen the extent of my cooking, dude."

"What…? Where did you get all that?" Hermann's eyes track the bags as they settle on the table, and then each of the containers as Newt pulled them out.

"The Fireplace. It was a bitch to get back with the food still hot, but here I am. Turkey, white and dark meat, stuffing, gravy, roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes, cranberry-orange relish, and a pumpkin pie."

The table was now covered with food containers. Hermann was speechless.

"So I hope you're hungry."

"You get all this every year?"

With a grin, not entirely happy, Newt started getting out dishes and silverware. "Nah, I usually get a couple of the turkey leftover sandwiches and a pie then sit around all day in my underwear and watch TV. But I figured for the two of us, and you not even celebrating Thanksgiving, it was worth it." After setting everything down, he took the still-stunned Hermann in hug. "I've got a lot to be thankful for this year."

After a short moment, Hermann's entire body relaxed, and he returned the embrace. "So do I."

***

Newt felt a lot better about the set list he put together for them when he walked into the studio the next day. As much as Raleigh complained about wanting to go shopping of all things, all five of the guys showed up ready for business. Even Chuck's scowl was replaced by single-minded determination.

"That little summer tour was great if you like the tri-state scenery," Tendo said between sips of coffee, "but this could put us over. Keep that in mind, all right?"

"We hear you. And the sooner you leave, the sooner we can get started." Newt made a little shooing motion. Sure they all knew the songs, and Newt had made sure each one showcased all their strengths, and were both the most audience and dance friendly of their repertoire, but with only a month to get it all straight, they had to get out of the funk they'd been.

Two practices. A funk lasting two practices, but it was all Newt's fault, and it was all in his head.

Christ on a crutch, he needed a special outfit for this too. "Raleigh, I need to talk after we're done."

And Raleigh seemed to know exactly what Newt was thinking. "I already told Mako. She's waiting to hear about it."

When the Black Velvet Rabbits were on, they were on.

***

Socks. Lots of socks. And a scarf. And a hat. Gloves. And a new sweater. And some nice underwear. Some of that thermal shit, that was super tight, but totally functional, and totally sexy. Like some kind of damned space underwear. Underwear from the future!

With a huge grin, Newt put the finishing touches on bow of the last package. He also had the tickets for the Resolution Ball, but he wasn't going to wait for Christmas to give those. And yeah, Hermann was Jewish, though not practicing, but so little of Christmas had any religious base Newt felt perfectly fine celebrating like a good little modern secular consumer.

And if Hermann got him something, or got him nothing, it didn't matter, because the tickets… The tickets were the most important thing. Newt had a lie ready too, that a spoiled kid he'd been giving lessons to had parents that had given him the tickets as a gift. That's what he would say and then Hermann would scrunch up his face, frown a little, and then Newt would kiss him and convince him that it would be awesome. And it would be doubly awesome because Hermann would be right there to see Black Velvet Rabbits.

Newt loved Christmas, and with Hermann and the Resolution Ball on top of it, it was practically pants-wetting.

"Newt! I-"

"I didn't pay for them, Hermann. They were a gift, for me and my plus one. And you are my plus one no matter what you say. But!" Newt said, interrupting Hermann. "But do you know who will be playing at the Resolution Ball? Do you know?"

"Who?"

He didn't sound enthused at all, so Newt would just have to do it for the both of them. "Black Velvet Rabbits!" Newt screeched. "And you will be right there!"

Frowning, Hermann looked at the tickets again. "They'll be playing there?"

"Yes!"

"How should I dress?" Hermann asked faintly, the frown finally replaced by blank disbelief. "Do I need a… tuxedo? I don't have a suit." A good one anyway. He glanced toward the bedroom.

Newt knew he was thinking of his sparsely filled closet. "I say we go all out and rent tuxes." As enthusiastic as he was, it pained Newt to know that he would have to bail on Hermann for a little while to play their set, but it would be all night. They'd play their twenty minutes, then give the stage up, and the rest of the night would be their own to celebrate.

It was a horrible divide of his feelings, excited as all hell for the gig and the exposure to a new crowd, but sad he couldn't share in Hermann's enthusiasm fully, having to split to each get what they want. But he couldn't let that show, couldn't act like there was something wrong at all. "It's gonna be great."

***

Hermann's schedule was just as busy as Newt's in the few weeks leading up to Christmas.

"I'm just gonna do Christmas dinner like Thanksgiving, OK?" Newt said one night in bed. He was exhausted, and he still had to deal with his costume with Mako, go with Hermann for tuxes, and… Oddly, that was it, but it felt like so much more. The pressure of trying to work out how he'd perform at the Resolution Ball and be there with Hermann was getting to him, and he had no good solution in sight.

The only thing that came to mind, and kept coming to mind when he rejected it, was "just wing it". Things never went well when Newt went with that plan.

Hermann was gone for class, and Newt was down at the nearest cafe to make a very sensitive call. "Yo, I don't even know where to start. He's gonna be next to me the entire time, and the moment I say I have to piss or something and I'm gone just long enough for the Rabbits to play, well…" Newt huffed. "He's either gonna be angry, or suspicious, and I don't want him to be either of those things." He could practically hear Jin grinning at the other end of the phone.

Newt's personal problems were an endless source of amusement because they were invariably so trivial.

"Spill a drink on yourself. On your pants. I saw the design. They're coming off anyway."

For a long moment, eyes staring off into the distance, Newt was silent, before he slowly broke into a smile. "Brilliant! Oh shit, dude, you might have saved me." Newt glared at the woman the next table over who frowned at his outburst. "Next time we're in studio, I'm kissing you, and you can't stop me. If it makes your brother jealous, you'll have to deal with him."

"I'll gladly let you kiss me just to see Chuck's reaction."

"Hahaha! Excellent! I'll see you tomorrow, so bring a breath mint! Bye!" It was a sudden crushing weight lifted from his shoulders, and Newt wanted to shout with victory. But he didn't because the chain places were always such prudes about disruptive customers even when said customers had a perfectly valid reason to be happily noisy.

So instead, Newt hurried back to the apartment to finish off the decorating that he'd set aside. Hermann hadn't said a word about the gifts sitting in the corner, or the lights around the windows, so Newt took that as permission to get all Christmasy up in the place. And he was finally feeling in the mood for it. Really, there were only a couple things left, because Newt wasn't big on decorations anyway (storing them just took up space, and not taking them down was unclassy), but they were the two big ones.

The tree. A three foot little fake thing, that was pretty sad looking.

And mistletoe. Though the big thing with mistletoe was where to hang it for maximum effect. Sure, he could steal kisses from Hermann all day long, but there was something about mistletoe that made it different. What that was, Newt didn't know. But he had to hang it where the kiss would be the most awkward. Forced awkward kisses. That's what Christmas was all about.

There was a sickly but cheerful tree with presents, a large bunch of mistletoe hanging in the hallway in front of the bathroom (where they always seemed to run into one another), and dinner waiting when Hermann got home.

Amd maybe there was something in the bedroom too, that Newt had kept a secret all to himself until that night.

***

Since they were closer than ever to Christmas (one thing at a time, Newt wasn't thinking about New Year's), Hermann's classes were nearly done for the year. Newt packed those days as absolutely full of BVR time as he could. He practiced alone in the apartment (some of those notes took real effort, even for him, to hit). He practiced with the rest of the guys, and they were all super pleased with how things were going. And he was doing all he could to help out Mako as she prepared their outfits for the Ball.

Mako was a wizard with a sewing machine, but she never turned away a spare pair of hands, even if what Newt mostly did was refill her tea and get her snacks. She'd finished his outfit first, since it had needed the most amount of work (and she'd tutted at him and shook her head while he just grinned and shrugged), so Newt was doing his best to help her translate the Wei's thoughts and ideas so that each member of the band looked distinct, but harmonious.

"One of these days, you'll need to pay me," she commented as she hand-stitched the cuffs on Jin's shirt.

"Yeah, sorry about this. Jin just loves that kind of stuff. If I could sow anything other wild oats, I'd help."

A sharp look, needle in mid-stitch. "Money helps."

"Um… yeah. Should I just try this on right now?" Grabbing the pieces to his outfit, Newt retreated to the bathroom.

"Hermann, we need to get our tuxes. Before all the snazzy ones are rented."

Newt's slow shift in behavior was just something Hermann chalked up to the holiday season. The first two months, Newt had been almost reserved, a little shy even. Of course Hermann had then attributed it to their comfort with one another (because how quickly they'd moved in together was not normal, even if they were only roommates, and then how quickly they'd determined this was a relationship was just insane), and actually enjoyed this side of Newt coming out.

He was so enthusiastic about things, passionate in the way Hermann didn't ever think he could be. Hell, Hermann had never even considered decorating for the holidays. Everything brightening up the little apartment was Newt's. Whatever happened in the future, he would do something though, because it helped things immeasurably.

Or maybe that was Newt.

Newt looked at him and smiled. "What're you staring at?"

In these moments, Hermann could see and hear that person that walked up to his booth and seemed so gentle and unassuming even in his enthusiasm. That was the essence of Newt to Hermann. "You."

With a blush, Newt looked at the book he'd been reading, then set it aside and turned out his light. "You want to turn off the lights?"

At first, Hermann had been disturbed trying to sleep with the multi-colored light on in the bedroom window. "No." It made everything seem… warmer, if only in his imagination. These were quite possibly the first holiday memories he would ever recall with any fondness.

***

"He's gonna be at the ball," Newt said one afternoon as they were packing things up. "So you're all gonna get your chance to laugh at me then."

Raleigh slung his arm around Newt's neck. "It might get Mako to forgive you a little to finally meet him."

The two would probably get along well; they were more alike than anyone would think from just looking at them. Oddly, that didn't make Newt feel any better. "Yeah, well…" When he just concentrated on the music and performance, everything was fine. But when thoughts of Hermann actually being there crept in, Newt got flustered and nervous. He was like a little kid and his first crush all over again.

And of course he was also terrified Hermann would immolate him with his anger.

But when he caught Jin with that wide smile that bordered on a knowing grin, Newt couldn't help but smile back. The Rabbits had been his life, his actual life, for long enough that this thing with Hermann was completely new and somehow foreign, and he couldn't hide how happy it made him.

Raleigh gave him an affectionate squeeze, almost choking him. "We're gonna blow their minds."

But the only one Newt was worried about (blowing or otherwise) was Hermann. "Thanks, dude. We're gonna kill it."

***

"Happy holidays," Newt whispered, nose to nose with Hermann in bed.

Hermann's eyes opened slowly, and his mouth curled into a smile. "Merry Christmas, you git."

They exchanged a slow kiss, still buried under layers of blankets as large snowflakes fell lazily past their window.

"Breakfast or presents?"

Leaning forward first to kiss Newt again, Hermann then whispered, "You."

"Really."

Newt turned and grinned. "You don't like my outfit?"

"It's not practical in the least."

"That's not what I asked." Newt spun on one socked foot all the way around to face Hermann. Still holding a spatula, he began to do the Twist across the linoleum and advanced slowly. "So?" The movement made the ends of Hermann's button-down swing open to reveal he had nothing on underneath.

"I do hope you've been very careful with cooking while you're… unprotected. As much as I wouldn't mind applying burn ointment, you would probably dislike getting burned quite a bit." Hermann crossed his arms, but had a smile playing across his lips as Newt got closer.

"Can I just say I got burned so you'll put ointment on me?" He was right in front of Hermann, and took one more step so that every movement ground his naked crotch against Hermann's pajama-clad one.

"You could just ask." Somehow, Hermann was completely unaffected.

"Why ask for permission now when I can ask for forgiveness later?"

"Because I won't forgive you."

"You will."

"Burn yourself and find out."

Once again, Newt spun around, putting his back to Hermann, then danced back to the stove. "You're not fun. Pancakes will be done in a few minutes."

"Wear these to the Ball, please."

Hermann looked from the pair of boxer-briefs in his hand to Newt.

"Sure, it's mostly because you'll look sexy as hell in them, but they're honestly practical too. And I didn't get you the briefs. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Stop fighting for approval. I'll wear them as long as you keep your hands to yourself in public."

Newt put his hands up. "I will do my best, but I make no promises."

"I suppose it's better than nothing." But again, he was smiling. It faded though as he looked at the underwear still in his hands. "Newt, do you know what this party is?"

"Sure. Resolution Ball, though I keep wanting to call it the Revolution Ball, which is more appropriate for being in Boston and all, but yes! Awesome food, awesome drinks, awesome music. Why?"

"Because it's…" It was more than anything he'd ever considered. Hermann had never imagined attending an event like this, requiring getting dressed up because he didn't own clothes beyond a threadbare suit coat he got at Goodwill, and a selection of three ties that he never wore unless absolutely required. Never a tuxedo, and he'd never had his measurements taken or been fitted.

This was too much. "It's too much. Everyone's going to stare at me. They're going to know I don't belong there."

"Hermann, hot pockets, you belong wherever you are. As long as you think that and believe it, it'll be true. You're smart enough to qualify for anything, just not everyone knows it. Got it?"

Newt had far more belief in him than Hermann had in himself. It was actually rather embarrassing, and with the whole money situation, he felt like he was taking advantage of Newt sometimes, no matter how often he told the man not to buy him things. "I just wish… I wish I could bring more to our relationship. You shouldn't be spending your money on me like this when I can't return it, when your money is just as important to you as it is to me."

"Man, I told you, let me worry about how I spend my money. I wouldn't spend it if I couldn't afford it. Hey, I get it, you see me as irresponsible, but I totally have my bank account in order, and know where to spend and where to save." Newt crawled through the scraps of wrapping paper to kneel in front of Hermann, getting right in his face. "Trust me. Do you trust me?'

He did, but it was so difficult to break the habits he'd been living with since he'd been going to college. "I do, but-"

"No buts." Newt turned and sat next to Hermann, pressed tightly against him. "Now open this one." And he handed him another brightly wrapped gift.

***

"I'll be right out!" Newt was pulling on the tights as quickly as he could. He'd never had to dress quite this quickly before, and certainly not trying to hide it at all. The tights, fine, then the bodysuit over them, and even though it was tight (especially in the crotch), it made him feel like a superhero, ready to conquer the Resolution Ball. Mako would have the coat and mask waiting for him at the party, so he just needed to put his modified tux on over it all.

"Newt…"

"Almost done!" Hermann was suspicious, and had good reason to be the way Newt had ducked into the bathroom to get ready. He'd never done that before even before, when Hermann had. Tonight, though, there'd just not been any way around it. There wouldn't be any time at the party to change, not while trying to keep the secret from Hermann, so he'd had to do this and just hope it would all end up OK.

If it didn't, and something at the party screwed up, that might very well be the end of the Black Velvet Rabbits' rise to stardom.

Pants. Jacket. Tie straight. Hair artfully arranged. Teeth clean. Breath fresh. Other than his boots, he was ready (yeah, the boots, that had given Hermann a heart attack when he'd seen them, were something he didn't have time to change either as much as he would have liked to; they were pretty distinctive, even if they weren't his normal flashier heels).

"Newt, we need to leave."

Newt burst out of the bathroom and rushed to put the boots on (thankful for the zip up the side or it might take him nigh on half an hour to get those things laced up). He threw his coat on, then stood impatiently by the door for Hermann. "Well come on! You were the one pestering me and now I'm waiting on you!"

With a huff, Hermann, looking the absolute tits in his tux, put his coat on. "You are so-"

"Sexy, I know. Come on!" As soon as their door was locked, Newt grabbed his hand and was pulling Hermann along.

To keep himself from being absolutely overwhelmed by the place and the people, Hermann just kept looking at Newt. It helped because Newt seemed very at home. He moved effortlessly through the crowd, snagging drinks from the trays circulating, greeting people like they were old friends, and just looking like he belonged.

"Can you eat something?" he whispered to Hermann. "You won't hurl?"

"No, I'll be fine." In fact, Hermann had been eyeing the buffet since he'd first seen it, just waiting for it open.

"Normally I find buffets a little tacky, but did you see that prime rib? It looks gorgeous." He downed the rest of the wine in his glass.

They mingled, a thing Hermann hated, until it was time for dinner. While he certainly felt outclassed by most of the people around him, not one curled a lip or raised an eyebrow when he said he was a student working toward a PhD. Newt got a few amused grins when he said he was a music tutor, but that was all.

It was nothing like what Hermann had expected, and after his third glass of wine, he was feeling much more relaxed. With a little food in him, he was sure it would all be perfect in time to watch the Black Velvet Rabbits. "Are they here?" he asked, looking around the crowd as Newt finished off his dessert.

"Who?"

"Black Velvet Rabbits!" Hermann hissed, and elbowed Newt in the ribs. "Are they mingling with the crowd? They might be and we wouldn't even know it!"

Newt chuckled into his napkin as he wiped his mouth. "They might be. Maybe that one guy you scowled at when he said he liked business and science was for nerds."

"I did not scowl!" He had, of course, but with the sudden realization that he might have done that to a member of his favorite group was horrifying. Suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. "I need to get a drink, some ginger ale."

"I'll wait here for you."

With dinner over, the DJ increased the volume of the music again as people returned to the mingling, and some even began to dance. And it was still three hours to midnight. Hermann had no idea how he was going to survive all this. The ginger ale helped a little, settling his stomach. It would be a wise idea, too, to hold off on the alcohol. Too much with his nerves, and he'd end up throwing up all the expensive food he'd just eaten.

"You look better." Newt had gone back for a second helping of dessert.

Hermann smiled at him. "I feel better, but I'll be sticking with the ginger ale for a little while."

Another hour passed, and as much as he would have liked to join Newt in a dance, Hermann didn't dance, and Newt didn't dance well. The two of them dancing together were a disaster waiting to happen.

Newt was content to put his arms around Hermann's waist and just sway like a pair of junior high kids, smiling the entire time. "Is it awkward if I tell you I love you?" Newt said, just loud enough to be heard above the music "It's not the alcohol, I promise."

The blush that spread across Hermann's cheeks, down his neck and up to his ears could be felt as his tie suddenly seemed very tight. "No," he answered, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. "I love you. I don't deserve you."

"Aww, man, don't say that." He laid his head on Hermann's shoulder, while the swaying slowed to almost nothing.

Hermann felt Newt sigh as his long fingers combed through the short hair at the nape of Newt's neck. He sighed in return and closed his eyes, pushing everything around them away. It was just the two of them in a way they hadn't managed yet at home. But maybe after this, things would be different, more honest about their feelings and open.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to begin the live entertainment, so I hope you're ready to dance your asses off!"

It was sad to let the moment go, but Hermann also knew this was their cue to clear from the floor. Besides, this was not the Rabbits yet, and that was the reason Hermann was there. He'd never been a huge fan of live music, finding it generally too loud where all the subtleties and details got lost, but in the moment, on this occasion, he found himself enjoying it. Not strictly his taste, he let the mood take hold of him, forced the nerves and tension and doubts away, because in just two hours, he'd have a whole new year in front of him.

Strangely enough, Newt looked nervous, bouncing his knee as they sat at a table off to the side.

"Something wrong?"

"Just anxious. For the Rabbits."

Hermann scooted his chair over so he was sitting directly next to Newt and put his arm around him. He wished he could dance, could do anything other than sway with the rhythm. "I'm excited too." Even if he didn't show it, because he didn't allow himself to get excited about things. That only invited disappointment when they didn't go through, so it was easier to remain indifferent even when his heart wanted to explode.

"I'm gonna get something to drink. You want something?" Newt asked suddenly, bouncing to his feet.

"Um, ginger ale?"

"Right! Be right back!"

Tapping his foot and fingers to the beat of the catchy pop-rock music the band on the small stage was playing, Hermann continued to scan the crowd while he waited. Were they really out there? Pretending to be like the rest of the people there? Had one of them brushed past Hermann at the buffet? Had he stood next to one of them at the bar earlier?

There went his stomach again.

Thankfully Newt returned quickly with his ginger ale, and something pink and fizzy for himself. "How much longer do you think?" he asked as he slid into his seat once more.

"Well it's gotta be before midnight, right? What time is it now?" Newt took a drink that barely qualified as a sip.

"Almost eleven," Hermann said after looking at his watch. He frowned at the way Newt was looking around. "What's wrong with you?"

"Anxious! Like I said before."

And it was like that for the next nearly thirty minutes, putting Hermann more and more uneasy. He was about to ask yet again just what the problem was, when Newt attempted to take another drink from his glass and missed his mouth. The pink liquid dribbled all down his front to a litany of cursing.

"Shit shit shit! I need to wash this out!"

Before Hermann could say anything, Newt was off toward the restrooms. Then the band on stage ended with a flourish, and Hermann's gut tightened. The Rabbits were coming up and Newt was in the bathroom. Could the timing be any worse, because as much as he loved Newt, Hermann was not waiting.

He made his way through the crowd. Being alone, and skinny, he managed to work his way to the front of the stage, almost straight in the middle. It was perfect, putting him just a few feet from the waiting microphone stand, but not as good as it could be without Newt next to him.

There was no fanfare as the stage was changed up, the DJ just playing some background music, as Hermann kept looking toward the restrooms for Newt. Moments, just moments! Where the blazes was he?

And then four of them walked out to a surprising amount of applause (the crowd didn't seem at all of the kind that would know them), all dressed in variations on a theme. Black and white harlequin with gold highlights, looking like they prepared for a formal ball back in the 16th century.

It was a totally new look, different than any of their others, and as amazed as Hermann was, there was still one missing member. Now his attention was divided between looking for Newt and waiting for Jet Ring to walk out. There was a physical pain to that, the pseudonym, but it was the only name Hermann knew to use. And the number of times Hermann had masturbated, coming into a tissue whispering, "Jet," was just downright embarrassing.

The guitarist stepped up to his own microphone and simply said, "Black Velvet Rabbits." One step back, and the music started.

Heavy synth, a song Hermann could identify immediately, and before he could worry about Newt missing this, Jet Ring strode out from the darkness to the left of the stage.

All of Hermann's insides fluttered to see him so close up.

The white jacket, complete with tails, following the harlequin theme; the harlequin mask with tall white ears; black bowtie and black pants. The tie and pants seemed oddly pedestrian on such a flashy and unique individual, but it hardly mattered as he began to sing.

If Hermann's insides had been fluttering, it was a very different part of him fluttering when Jet Ring reached down suddenly and tore his pants away to reveal the lycra shorts that left very little to the imagination, and also to the raucous delight of the crowd.

For the entire set, a too brief twenty minutes, Hermann stared, entranced, and completely forgot about the fact that Newt should have been right at his side for this.

It was terrible, practically sinful, how much Hermann wanted to put his hands on Jet Ring. Just to feel him, like some adolescent groupie, that the man was so close, nearly in arm's reach, was almost enough to bring Hermann to tears. To grab that perfectly highlighted ass and pull that beautiful, sweaty rockstar against him…

But that faded when Hermann looked and found Newt was still nowhere in sight, and here it was nearly midnight. If he couldn't ring in the new year with Newt, there was no point in being amidst the crowd any longer. As he started to leave the front of the stage (leave the simple aura of Jet Ring) though, the organizers came up to the mic, along with the previous band. The entire crowd pressed in, not allowing Hermann to leave; he was trapped unless he had to courage to cut across the stage itself.

This was a dilemma Hermann could haven't ever imagined. he needed to find Newt, but on the other hand, his most secret fantasy standing right there.

As the organizer thanked the bands and DJ, to wild (drunken) cheers and applause, the backdrop behind him lit up suddenly with the countdown until midnight. That, unfortunately, made it crystal clear that Hermann needed to find Newt immediately. He pulled out his phone, fumbling with it and almost dropping it, before he was able to finally dial Newt.

It was impossible to hear with all the voices around him, and the assorted noisemakers and horns people were using, but that didn't really matter because the call went to voicemail.

Shit, and before he could do more than have another panicked look around, everyone was counting down from thirty seconds.

Fifteen, and Hermann must have been dreaming, because Jet Ring stepped toward him, away from the crowd on stage. Ten, and they were nearly sharing each other's breaths. Five, and Jet Ring's hand was on Hermann's cheek. He could see Jet Ring counting down, his lips moving silently.

One, and Hermann closed his eyes just before zero and Jet Ring closed the small gap between them.

Hermann had no expectations; it didn't matter at all to him what the kiss would be like. It was happening, and not some polite gesture of a kiss on the cheek. Warm and soft and wet and real, over too quickly.

"Happy new year, Hermann."

Shock and confusion as Hermann's eyes snapped open. "What?" A sinking feeling, foolish familiarity in all of this, but most of all complete disbelief.

Jet Ring lifted his mask just enough to reveal himself, leaving no room for doubt. "Miss me?" Newt asked, and grinned.

A squeak escaped Hermann's throat, but nothing else.

"Come on, Herm, say something. I just… It's complicated."

"We," Hermann said quietly (as quietly as possible over the noisy revel around them), "are going to have a long talk." His fingers twitched, and then he put his arms around Newt. Not Jet Ring, just Newt. Making the fantasy become reality seemed so easy now, with Hermann just letting his hands drop to grab hold of Newt's ass and pull him forward. "At home."

Newt's expression that had been hopefully guarded opened, brightened at that, and he voluntarily pressed himself against Hermann. "I'll explain everything."

This wasn't the place for it, so Hermann just kissed him again, holding him tightly. "In the morning."

"OK." Newt actually looked dazed and impossibly happy. "I need to borrow your jacket."

"Why?"

"These shorts aren't doing shit to hide my boner."

***

"You want me to take the lights down tomorrow?"

Hermann opened his eyes slowly, looking at Newt gently bathed in the mixed red and green from the string of Christmas lights still hung around the window, and felt his mouth curling into a smile. "No."

Newt relaxed against him, pressed a kiss to his shoulder, then drifted off to sleep.

As the snow fell heavier and heavier outside the window, Hermann gathered Newt closer to himself and pulled the blankets up. He hadn't even bothered to make a resolution this year, not that he'd ever really followed up on them. They'd always been unrealistic or too nebulous to accomplish, but this time… This time Hermann felt like he'd already achieved something.

It was going to be a good year.

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