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The first time Newt and Hermann slept in the same bed, it was after the drift. They’d barely been able to stop touching since they drifted. It wasn’t all holding hands or hugging (although some of it definitely was), but more being pressed flush against each other. Side to side, they barely pulled apart to celebrate.
Hermann was obviously embarrassed about their state, but Newt was nice enough to make it seem all like him. When he threw his arm around Hermann, no one needed to notice that Hermann melted ever so slightly into his touch. Newt was as drawn to Hermann as Hermann was to him, so it didn’t matter if it seemed like he was the touchy one. He was always the touchy one.
“I’m tired.” Hermann said, ever so slightly into Newt’s ear, leaning close. It felt good. Warm. Melty? (Was that a good descriptor? Hermann wouldn’t like that). “We should go to bed.” Hermann was right. They didn’t need to stay for the parties that were sure to continue on for several days.
“Yeah, let’s go to bed.” Newt said. He didn’t catch the ‘let’s’, and neither did Hermann. Maybe because it felt so right. They stood, Hermann leaning ever so slightly on Newt. He was still leaning on his cane, but he seemed to need it less with the help of Newt’s body.
When they reached Newt’s door, there was barely a question about it. Newt unlocked it, and they both fell in.
They only stopped touching to change. Newt pulled on an old Star Trek t-shirt and sweatpants, and he tossed a Godzilla shirt and similar sweatpants. The minute the two were changed, they fell immediately into Newt’s bed. Hermann laid out on his back, and Newt threw an arm around him. Newt shuffled around a few times to grab his stuffed newt (he couldn’t sleep without it. It was also named Newt) and pulled it into the hug with Hermann. Despite his pressing exhaustion, Hermann couldn’t help but smile down at him affectionately.
And then they fell asleep.
The second time was the very next day. They woke up with a less pressing need to be touching, but still a pressing need to be close . Luckily, as it had been a pretty solid team effort to meld with the Kaiju brain and save the world, everyone wanted to see Drs. Gottlieb&Geiszler, not Dr. Gottlieb or Dr. Geiszler. They didn’t ever bother to act like they didn’t like each other - everyone knew they had drifted and you had to hold some esteem for each other to do that.
The day passed by in a flurry of meetings and explanations. When they weren’t discussing how they had drifted, and why, and when, and what happened, they had to write reports.
“I fucking hate reports, dude,” Newt groaned, “We saved the world, and we still have to write these out? I’m five seconds away from falling asleep.” Hermann, who looked similarly tired, glanced over to Newt and then the clock.
“It is almost time for sleep.” he said, and Newt watched as he got the familiar look on his face that meant he was calculating time. “We’ve been awake for almost fifteen hours, and after the mental taxation of the drift, that’s most likely too much.”
“Oh my god,” Newt snorted, but he sounded fond. “Nerd.” Still, he got up and offered his hand to Hermann. Hermann smiled, and took the hand, letting Newt help him up (Newt can’t help but note that he’s never done that before).
Neither of them mention the pesky little bed thing - even though neither of them want to sleep in separate beds. They ignored it until they reached their rooms (conveniently right across from each other) and stopped. Neither of them spoke.
“Do you want to sleep in mine tonight?” Hermann asked, and Newt burst into a large grin.
“Fuck yeah dude! Just let me grab Newt and then I’ll be right over!” Newt turned, but Herman stopped him.
“Are you not Newt?” is all he had to ask before Newt launched into an altogether too convoluted explanation of the stuffed Newt he couldn’t sleep without. A fond smile (a smile!) slipped onto Hermann’s face. “Go get your stuffed newt.” he told him. “And then we can sleep.” Newt smiled and headed to his own room.
After grabbing Newt (the stuffed one), and brushing his teeth, he hurried across the hall to Hermann’s room. Hermann opened the door easily and ushered Newt inside. “You took too long,” he complained halfheartedly, and Newt barely had time to tease him before they were both falling into Hermann’s bed. It wasn’t comfortable (none of the Shatterdome beds were), but it was so much better with the other there.
The third time, they were trying not to sleep together again. Newt was worried about being too clingy, about making Hermann uncomfortable. He had done it a lot in previous relationships, many times. So when it was night, he gave into the urge to hug Hermann, but he still went to his own room. He fell into his own bed and hugged Newt (the stuffed one) tightly. He buried his face into its black faux fur and tried to fall asleep. He pretended that the disappointment flooding through his brain was only his.
Apparently, Newt had managed to fall asleep, but it was tense and fitful. When he finally woke up, it was to a nightmare. Kaiju blue, stomping feet, destroyed buildings, Jaegers falling. It fell into rapid places in Newt’s head, before melting into different dreams: his mother, his father - not his father Hermann’s father, bullying (his, Hermann’s, blending).
Next woke up with a gasp, hugging Newt (the stuffed one) tight. “Oh my god.” he choked out in panting gasps. “Fucking hell.” Immediately, he knew what he had to do. He got up, slid on slippers, and headed for Hermann’s room.
Hermann opened the door immediately, and Newt hugged him. “I’m sleeping in here.” he said, and Hermann hugged him back.
“Careful, Newton, my leg.” he said, and Newt pulled back. Still, Hermann stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind Newt. “Come to bed, please.”
Newt crawled into Hermann’s bed, and Hermann followed him. He wrapped his arms around Newt, spooning him close as Newt held Newt (the stuffed one! This is getting confusing). Soft warm breaths brushed gently against Newt’s neck, a sensation he would normally find skin crawling. Instead, he found it comfortable, because it was Hermann.
“Thank you, Newton.” Hermann muttered into Newt’s skin. Newt smiled.
“Always, Hermann.”
The fourth time, Hermann and Newt didn’t even think about sleeping in separate beds. They headed immediately for Newt’s room, getting into Newt’s bed as if it was second nature. “Do you ever think about why we need this?” Newt asked, sitting up on the side of the bed, swinging his legs.
Hermann turned his head ever so slightly to look at him. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not that I don’t like this, it’s just that we have a ton more drift bleed than the Jaeger pilots! Mako and Raleigh aren’t constantly sleeping in the same bed or anything, but we can barely function without seeing each other at least once a day. Do you think it’s because Kaiju are a hive mind, or because we’ve never drifted before, or-” Herman cut Newt off with a soft touch to his wrist.
“Newton. Perhaps it’s because I’ve dreamed of us sleeping in the same bed since we started trading letters. Perhaps it is because the Kaiju are a hive mind. It doesn’t matter. I know we’ve been ignoring this since the drift, but I am in love with you, and I know you’re in love with me, so could you please not ascribe something scientific to what might very well be just our feelings for each other?” Hermann’s voice was irritated, but Newt was grinning the whole time he spoke.
He wrapped his fingers around Hermann’s wrist and tugged slightly, pulling Hermann up and closer to him. “Hey, can I kiss you?” he asked, and Hermann nodded.
Hermann had to reposition slightly, but it was easy enough to fall into a kiss. It felt breathtaking and magnetic, intensified by the drift bleeding through their minds. Newt ran his tongue over Hermann’s lips and felt the spike of pleasure and eagerness as if it was his own as Hermann’s mouth fell open. Hermann could feel Newt’s excitement and slight arousal as he bit down on his bottom lip, and he could hear in tenfold the slight moan Newt let out.
Hermann was loath to use metaphors. He wanted to classify everything by science and needed everything to be stable in its place in his head. And still, kissing Newt felt like the undefinable, unoriginal, inorganic, and unbelievable concept of Heaven.
“Newton.” Hermann said, splaying his hand against Newt’s chest and looping the other around his shoulders, pushing him back only enough to break the kiss. “I love you. I know you know this, but I feel it must be clarified if we are going to continue sleeping in the same bed.”
“I love you too, Herms.” Newt said, settling into a hug with Hermann.
“Do not call me that.”
Newt pressed a kiss to Hermann’s cheek. “Whatever you say, Herms.”
By the fifth time, they had cleaned out the lab and were preparing to leave. They lay together, Newt was curled into Hermann’s body, holding both his boyfriend (boyfriend!) and Newt (goddamnit why did he name himself after his stuffed animal) as they watched some stupid reality tv show.
“We’re going to live with each other, right?” Newt asked, not bothering to pause the show. It wasn’t like either of them were actually paying attention to it anyways. “I know it’s a bit fast but I hate the idea of us living separately. I don’t think I could.”
A flash of surprise passed through the still unfaded ghost drift, and for a second Newt panicked. But then Hermann pressed closer, comforting on purpose. “I honestly didn’t consider anything else,” he admitted. “I figured that was what we were going to do anyway.” Newt pushed his face into Hermann’s shoulder and smiled against it.
“Can I have a pet lizard?”
“Only if I can have a pet cat.” Hermann responded, smiling down at his love.
The thousandth time Newt and Hermann slept in the same bed, they were married. Professors at the same university, with a cat and a lizard. They slept together every night, ate together everyday, communicated through the still unfaded (though less prominent) ghost drift, spent whenever they could together, and thrived off the physical touch. They were happy.