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"Stop- stop that shit, for fuck's sake, Hermann!"
Newton wasn't sure if he had or hadn't just scream across a lab full of people to the most uptight person on Planet Earth to "stop that shit", but he knew a scream was to be expected to be thrown back at him, maybe with the addition of a flying can, maybe a whole blackboard. The suspense was killing him.
"I must say this again, for the hundredth time probably, do NOT address me that way, AND DO NOT HOWL AT ME LIKE SOME SORT OF WILD BEAST, DR. GEISZLER."
However, as much as he shouted and gestured, he did stop making that annoying tapping with chalk on blackboard. Obviously not because that poor excuse for a man said so, but because his coworkers would probably appreciate it, too. Newton didn't let that fact slip so easily, and he just screamed again, as loud as his lungs let him, a sharp "thank you" with both amusement and stress oozing off it.
It had been weeks since both of them had made a clear advance in their shared research and the lab felt... tense, to say the least. Having a weight as heavy as humanity's safety on one's shoulders sure was a way of getting a little stressed over the outcomes of even the smallest tasks and experiments. Newton helped himself with booze. Whatever he could get his hands on, really. Hermann walked. He walked for hours on end aroud the city and the dome, deep in thought, trying to see what was he missing to push things forward again. Neither were used to being stuck for so long and it showed through their constant jabs at each other, born out of mutual frustration.
This kept on, and they found themselves in a circle where they would say more and more hurtful things the longer this scientific drought kept going. Hermann barely walked by the lab at this point, because it was always one of two scenarios:
a) Newton screaming nonsense, maybe kicking things and being an asshole to him, or
b) Newton asleep at random locations inside the lab surrounded by multiple cans of beer and various doubious booze bottles, once almost drowning inside a kaiju sample tank full of weird smelling green liquid.
It was like his own personal hell had become a reality.
So he walked. He walked and walked and walked and took notes on his corporate tablet, and marked down the most cozy, calm and silent cafés around Hong Kong, rare as they were, and burned his stress by overworking his bad leg. This led to more than one forced cab rides back to the dome when he found himself unable to walk back at the risk of falling in the street and curl up to die if he dared try it. But he got used to that, too.
*
Or so he thought, when he found himself sitting at a table, midnight approaching fast, his leg refusing to move without putting up a fight, and without any cash to pay a cab. He quickly realized that the only person he could really call and be sure that was awake and active at that time was Dr. Geiszler. How mortifying. He wasn't the one to show weakness and he knew that the moron wouldn't let go of this evening in the foreseeable future (he would probably call it something like "that time I rescued Hermann of himself" or something equally nonsensical), but... what else could be done?
"What do you want, Herms?" He sounded surprised and a little sloppy, but even then he cut through protocol and went right to the point.
"I, ah- Good evening, Dr. Geiszler-"
"Cut it out. You would never call me if there was another person in this Earth that could help you, so what is it? Come on, man, we've been working together long enough to be comfortable around each other, just- spit it out"
*
Less than 20 minutes later, Newton arrived at the café and found Hermann sitting by himself in a corner, calmly writing something on his tablet, his pursed lips the only thing that gave away the pain he felt going up his leg all the way to his hip. Without a word, Newton knelt under the table and put his hands to work around his coworker's leg with a surprising amount of respect to find the locked muscles; his fingers had a firm but soft grip usual in professionals of the health areas, and, soon enough, he was done. It all happened so fast, Hermann had barely complained before shutting up in relief, his face still red because of the unexpected touch of an attractive person in such an intimate spot, but that second free of pain didn't last: Newton banged his head on the table trying to get out of it, and they both were equally relieved to see they were the last ones in the shop.
"What is wrong with you? Touching people without consent is not only disrespectful-"
"A "thank you" works too, Hermann."
Newton's eyes were fixed on his. He was tipsy.
*
Hermann often wondered how bad his past choices had been for him to be suffering this much in the present time, and the answer he found most of the times said that the fault wasn't his. It was the PPDC's fault for making him work with the man that was murdering "I Wanna Know What Love Is" with a microphone on the stage that very second.
Newton still wasn't sure how he managed to convince Hermann that karaoke would make a great therapy for them to bond again and stop the pettiness and bitterness in the lab before they strangled each other with their bare hands, but it worked, and he was going to enjoy every second of it. He had his (third, fourth? who's counting anyways) cocktail strongly gripped in one hand and the microphone in the other, giving his all to the Foreigner rendition, looking at Hermann as he knew the lyrics by heart, and hoping the uptight german could read the "silent" love letter he was sending his way.
Soon after that, it was both of them up in the stage, holding the mic together, looking at each other, and singing their feelings out, in what turned to be the mos efficient way of turning their relationship from murderous to drunkenly romantic. After finishing "Take My Breath Away", "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" and "Careless Whisper" together, they sat on the table again, Newton's hand resting on his colleague's waist to help him with balance, and also because he loved touching him and didnt get that much chances, not that he was gonna say it out loud, of course. The silence where conversation should have been fell hard on their shoulders and their fidgeting and nervousness was making things even more awkward, if that was possible. Newton looked at Hermann's face not turning his own too much, only to find his gaze fixated on his lips, and after that it was just a matter of time before they were cramped inside a way-too-tiny bathroom sharing heavy breaths and slow kisses.
Hermann had his arms wrapped around his partner's neck, and Newton himself was leaning in the sink, no other place to lean on, with one hand on Hermann's waist (god, how tiny and amazing) and the other placed on his hip, his thumb making slow circles right above the joint. Still, none of them had spoken a word.
*
When the sink gave up under his weight, Newton realized he had been moaning for a while. It wasn't a surprise, as Hermann's face was buried in his neck and one of his hands deep inside his pants. His own hands were either on his ass or supporting the leg wrapped around his waist, but he didn't have time to take all that information in when he quickly let go of that rear to put a hand to the wall and save them from falling onto the remains of the now collapsed sink. Looking at each other, they started to laugh, and Newton stole one last kiss before saying: "Dude, we need to get out of here, like, right now."
*
The walk home after they snuck out of the karaoke fast enough that no one would link them to the broken sink was full of laughter, hands supporting and caressing, and kissing in every dark spot the could find, Newton running his fingers along the buzzcut in the back of Hermann's head every time they stopped for sloppy making out. It wasn't a long walk, but by the time they arrived to the dome, the sky was starting to clear.
Hermann shut the door of his room, pulled the curtains, and flopped next to Newton on his queen sized bed, a commodity he fought for, and they fell asleep just like that, clothes still on, glasses barely taken off, shoes still hanging from tired feet, but, for once, he didn't care as the embrace of Newton was enough for him to feel safe and comfortable.
*
True, it hadn't been the best way to address their mutual feelings. True, none of them wanted to ever listen to 80's ballads again. But also true, they woke up in the afternoon still embracing one another and that was enough to make the whole ordeal so, so worth it.