Work Text:
"This retreat blows. Why does the PPDC even think we need to do some kind of team building exercise anyway?"
Newt shivered and wrapped his arms around himself as best he could to try to stay warm. He and Hermann had found themselves standing in a long outdoor check-in line in the mountains of Sochi, Russia on a chilly December evening for what Marshall Pentecost had described as "mandatory fun". Newt was all for getting out of the Shatterdome for a short weekend trip, but an unseasonably early snow had fallen, and Newt definitely didn't dress appropriately. He looked over at Hermann, who predictably was wearing that ridiculous parka all smug like he didn't notice Newt freezing his ass off in his worn leather jacket and jeans next to him.
Hermann. The man drove Newt nuts. Like, up-the-wall crazy. He was always so critical and better-than-thou and had those stupid cheekbones and those frustrating long eyelashes and-
Okay maybe Newt was in love. But it was so freaking difficult to work when he was distracted by Mr. British Bavaria over there sipping his damn tea and leaving little mandarin peels everywhere. Maybe it was the first stages of hypothermia setting in, but an idea occurred to Newt. He could just tell Hermann how he felt, get it all out in the open, then be done with it. Problem solved!
Newt looked around some more. They were in a huge line of people holding duffel bags and skis who had clearly come for whatever the heck winter festival was going on this weekend, and they definitely weren't about to give two nerds any privacy to confess their undying love for each other. If only he and Hermann could just like.. not go to this stupid thing.
"Hey Hermann."
"No, I'm not letting you borrow my parka."
"Okay, rude. But no, I was going to say we should just like ditch this thing."
Hermann side-eyed him but didn't respond, which Newt knew meant he was willing to entertain the idea.
"I mean, who cares if we go to this festival retreat thing. It'll go on with out us just fine. In the meantime we can take a walk and just chill, you know? Do whatever we want with our time."
Hermann looked forward again, then down at his watch. "Yes, fine. It's not as if we were going to make it in before they ran out of hot cocoa anyway."
And so the two trodded off to explore the grounds, Newt helping Hermann keep balance in the snow.
When they found themselves quite remote from other festival attendees, Newt considered it a prime opportunity to tell Hermann how he felt. It'd be quick. Surgical even. And Hermann would politely acknowledge his feelings, let him down easily and professionally, and then they could move on.
OR if Newt allowed himself even the tiniest bit of hope, Hermann would reciprocate and the two would have a passionate makeout session then and there before eloping and finding some Russian rabbi to marry them before their flight home.
Caught mid daydream, Newt felt something slam against his back.
"Ow! What was that?"
Newt turned to find Hermann in a fit of giggles. Did he... did he really just nail Newt with a snowball?!
"Oh yeah? Is that how it is? You know I'm not gonna go easy on you," Newt grinned playfully.
The two threw a few snowballs back and forth, Newt bobbing and weaving, Hermann with his parka zipped full up and taking the hits like a tank. Newt was coming in for the kill (ie shoving a fistful of snow down that big, dumb, warm parka and then they'd see who's smug) when Hermann took a step and slipped on a small patch of ice. He wheeled his arms around, catapulting both the snowball he had primed and ready, and his cane.
"Oh shit!" Newt exclaimed, trying to catch Hermann before he fully fell. The two crashed together in a heap.
Newt winced. He had luckily broken Hermann's fall, but it did mean he got a bony knee to the thigh in the process.
"Aw man, are you alright?" Newt asked as he got his bearings. He started dusting some snow off Hermann's shoulders when he noticed Hermann was staring at him. "Uhh... dude?"
Hermann was above him looking down into his eyes, a flush on his face that was probably from the cold, but Newt wondered if maybe the whole slipping and falling thing was an act to get closer. He shook his head. There's no way.
Hermann blinked rapidly and shook off whatever distraction he had found in Newt, muttered a rushed apology and righted himself on his own with no issue. Well, no issue until he tried to put weight on his right ankle. He winced in pain and once again Newt rushed to support him.
"I must have twisted it when I fell. I'm not sure how far I can walk like this," Hermann said with worry and regret on his face. His mouth went into a frowny thin line. "You might need to go back and get help."
"No way! I can uh, I can carry you back." Hermann looked at him and Newt could practically feel the eyeroll he was holding back. "Alright, alright. Jeez. But like, I don't want to leave you out here in the cold. What if something happens to you while I'm gone? What if a bear comes?"
"Really, Newton."
"Or an avalanche?"
"Newton."
"Or a really hot ski instructor??"
"Newton! Enough of your jokes. Off you go now." Hermann waved his hand as if shooing Newt away. "I'll be just fine here."
That wasn't good enough for Newt. He looked around for at least a tree stump for Hermann to sit on. That's when he spotting what looked to be the pointed top of a roof peaking out of the nearby tree line. "Oh hey! I think I see a cabin! I'm sure whoever's there will let you wait inside. Maybe they even have a phone."
With that, Newt helped Hermann hobble his way over and they knocked on the door. It was dark. Newt tried the knob, and before Hermann could scold him for manners, it clicked open and Newt was stepping curiously inside.
"Hellooo? Zudrafstvootey?" Newt called out. Hermann clapped a hand over his face in shame over Newt's Russian. At least they were both spared from embarrassment since nobody was present.
"Well, whatever. Surely they won't mind opening their winter home up to an invalid," Newt said offhandedly, bringing Hermann into the living area and plopping him down on the couch.
"I'm not an invalid, Newton. It's a sprained ankle for godssake."
"Yeah, yeah," Newt said, disappearing into the kitchen.
Hermann could hear him clinking around and running water. "What are you doing in there?", he called.
There was no reply, but eventually he heard the clickclickclick-whoosh of a gas stove. Newt was putting on tea. After a few minutes, Newt returned and sat next to Hermann, handing him a warm mug with little flowers painted into the ceramic glaze. "They probably won't mind sharing some of their spiced tea with-"
"Do not say it," Hermann warned.
"-an invalid," Newt finished, stressing the word incorrectly with a playful smile. Hermann actually did roll his eyes this time.
"All good-natured ribbing aside, I should probably go get help now that I know you're sheltered from the snow. It was really starting to come down by the time we got to this place," Newt said, getting up and going to the window. "Uhh..."
"What is it now?"
"Welllll," Newt replied with a grimace. "I think we might both have to stay here. It's gotten really dark, and with the snow I'm not entirely sure I could find my way back to the lodge."
Hermann sighed in resignation. "I suppose we'll be intruding on our unknown host's indirect hospitality for a bit longer then."
The snow and wind continued to whip up as the night grew darker. Eventually Newt got up and managed to light a fire in the open hearth opposite the couch. He also found a blanket to drape over Hermann before settling back on the couch next to him. The two sat together in silence for some time, sipping their tea.
Newt kicked himself for things turning out so badly. Maybe he should never have dragged Hermann away from the festival where there were people and sidewalks and electricity. And Hermann wouldn't have gotten hurt either. But the thing Newt felt most guilty about was how grateful he was to be snowed in with Hermann. He doubted he'd get this kind of opportunity again.
He turned to Hermann, ready to pour out his heart, but when he looked over, Hermann was already looking back at him. Their eyes met and Newt's mouth opened, but no words came out. He didn't know how to describe it, but in that moment he felt like they had some kind of connection. Like Hermann knew what he wanted to say. A billion scenarios ran through Newt's head, leaping from one to the next. Was it possible that Hermann really did feel the same way he did? Hermann wasn't looking away, and Newt felt like he was lost in those deep brown eyes.
"Newton," Hermann said, almost a whisper, his lips parting.
Newt started to lean in. His heart was pounding. Dare he even attempt a kiss? Was he so bold to press his own lips to Hermann's? Maybe this would convey what words could not. He watched Hermann's eyes flutter closed, and following suit he closed his as well, just inches away from Hermann's lovely face.
Just as he was about to make contact, a loud banging came from the door.
"ACK!" Hermann yelped out in surprise while Newt shot to his feet, ready to defend Hermann from any kind of intruder. Even if it was that hypothetical bear from earlier.
The knob jiggled and the door blew open letting in a gust of snow. Two tall, imposing figures stepped into the room.
"Sasha?? Aleksis?!" Newt said in shock. "What the hell are you two doing here?"
"You did not show up to retreat. We come to collect you," Sasha explained as if it were only natural that the two Jaeger pilots wander into a snow storm to find them. The two peered into the tiny cabin. "But it looks as if we are disturbing rather than rescuing. We return in the morning." And with that she turned to Aleksis, who nodded back solemnly, and before either Newt or Hermann could protest, they were out the door.
Newt and Hermann exchanged glances and started laughing at the absurdity of the sudden intrusion. After they had that out of their system, Newt threw another log on the fire and sat back down.
"Ah, so Hermann," he smiled, taking Hermann's hand in his. "There's something I need to tell you."
(Audio may be loud)
