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The war is over.
The entire Shatterdome rumbles under the cheers of joy filling the air, hands tugging and arms coming around the nearest person in the midst of relief and built up anxiety finally morphing into pure happiness.
Hermann finds himself tugged by Newton, warm and strong arms enveloping his neck and closing him in a heartfelt hug that he feels the need to reciprocate, his rules on public displays of affection be damned for the day.
The Breach is closed. They did it. They saved the day, and apparently the world.
The most important thing? He’s alive. Newton too.
They are both still there, standing victorious, bodies close and hearts pounding fast in their chests as they smile at each other in relief, eyes tearing up. Hermann sees something lingering in Newton’s eyes and he doesn’t have the time to catch it properly before they get separated and tugged by the other persons in the room to get the rest of their hugs.
He hears the sound of wine bottles being popped open and liquid splashing on the ground as plastic cups magically appear around them, and then the victory party starts and everyone screams again.
It looks and finally sounds like the First Day of The Year, and for the first time in his life it feels worthy of being celebrated. Letting himself be served a full plastic cup of champagne by Newton, Hermann finally feels like a fucking hero.
Ghost Drift still lingers on every cell of his body, the feeling tickling the back of his head and his fingertips. He can tell where Newton is standing, chatting with the Jaeger technicians and laughing his heart out with a dishevelled Tendo, iconic bowtie untied around his neck while he’s at his third round of alcohol.
Closing his eyes, Hermann scans the remains of his and Newton’s memories, laughter fading into sadness and excitement becoming delusion.
He’s playing with his airplane as Newton studies a beetle walking on his hand, the stern colors of Gottlieb’s mansion dissolving into the bright notes of Geiszler’s summer house garden the moment after. It’s a tender mixed memory, something he will miss after the Drift completely dissolves and his and Newton’s minds will be separated again. As much as he loathed the physical intensity of the Drift procedure and the queasiness felt after that, witnessing the secret fraction of mind that makes Newton the man he had worked with all those years truly feels like an honor.
He knows how Drift works, the persons involved letting their mind open and ready to be read and explored, bad memories included.
Giving Newton the access to how he got injured, or to the memory of their first horrible and delusional meeting in person, felt difficult at first but that in exchange for seeing Newton’s solitude and anger at every failed experiment with the Kaiju bits, and the sentiment pulled into their handwritten letters at the beginning of the war, makes his eyes watery with tears of joy.
He feels that deep-buried longing burn again in his chest, the one he tried to hide every single day while working non-stop side by side with a pair of green eyes so full of life and energy he wished he could match per intensity. He also wants to convince himself that their mental connection to save the world actually made him see how Newton has always felt the same for him, or at least a small fraction of it.
Sitting on a chair to rest his leg, Hermann looks again for Newton in the crowd.
He feels tired, clothes heavy on his limbs after that restless day. He stopped drinking after the second cup, but he can still taste the liquor on the back of his tongue as he can sense Newton chatting around, his probably fifth cup of champagne barely balanced in his hand.
Hermann finally sees him turn his head and look in his direction, brows furrowed while he makes his way through the crowd to come and sit next to him.
Their breaths catch simultaneously.
“You are tired, aren’t you?”
There's no attempt on making Hermann stand and join the party again, because Newton feels his leg aching like Hermann’s, his alcohol tolerance suddenly higher and his mind filled with numbers and equations he struggled to understand properly his whole life, despite his six PhDs.
He’s buzzing with joy and excitement and he feels obscenely sleepy at the same time, and he’s sitting next to Hermann and filling his empty cup with the last remains of a bottle of wine abandoned next to them. Hermann smiles at the gesture, Newton smiles back at him and it feels like being kissed by the sun on a summer day.
Hermann wonders if Newton is blissfully ignoring what they hid from each other all that time, or if he's trying to find the words to say something.
“We did it, uhm?” Newton says:”We saved the day like fucking rockstars.”
“The Jaeger pilots did it, my… friend.” There's a pause before that word, and Newton turns his head, Hermann not backing off from his deep stare:”But indeed, our contribution can be considered pretty relevant.”
Newton smiles, and again it’s like facing the sunlight:“Bullshit, they couldn’t do it without us saving their asses. Now let’s drink to that and get the fuck out of here.”
Hermann doesn’t know his intentions, but he would follow him to the end of the world at that point and he doesn’t bother on asking him further where he wants to go.
Newton chugs the rest of his cup, Hermann following suit. Closing his hand around his pack of hand rolled cigarettes, Hermann feels the sudden crave for nicotine.
“What about the roof?”
“Sounds like a wonderful idea.”
They’re in Hermann’s room later, the taste of tobacco and wine lingering on their tongue as Hermann invites Newton inside, no words needed. They can still hear the party unraveling above their heads, the sound of chatter coming to a faint, comfortable noise.
Newton allows himself to look around the room, catching glimpses of Hermann’s personality outside the one he learned to know from his chalkboard and notes in the lab. There are pictures on the rather empty walls, someone smiling next to him and a couple of children looking exactly like his younger version.
He has seen their faces floating around their shared memories.
“My sister Karla and my nephews.” Hermann explains, catching Newton’s eyes:”They should be taller by now. Probably still little rascals.”
“I bet you’re uptight with them as much as you are with me.” Newton jokes, and that earns him a soft, subtly sad smile from Hermann. He watches the man get close to the picture, fingers hovering over the small faces.
“They are not very prone to listening. Brilliant boys, though. I miss them.”
“You will meet them again soon.”
“I hope so.”
There’s a strange pause when Newton keeps walking around, scanning the books on the small library next to the desk.
Mathematics, physics and even some adventure novels, next to a Rubik 's cube and wooden puzzle games, all very Hermann-ish. He gets entranced in his exploration as Hermann takes his time to wash his face in the small bathroom, and then Newton is catching that small feeling at the back of his head, a barely visible blue thread fluctuating above his head as he gets the echo of Hermann’s mind in that moment.
He stays still, eyes locking with Hermann when he comes out of the bathroom, face still damp with water. He notices the trembling on his lips, eyes unsure on what to do next.
The smile on his face is softer than feathers.
“You’re thinking too loud, you know I can hear you.” he whispers, walking toward Hermann and getting in his space.
Hermann doesn’t back off, heart pounding faster and faster as he feels the need to lean on Newton’s hand brushing on his cheek, warm and cautious.
Something lingers in the space between their faces, an untold truth that needs a little push to get revealed to the world and Hermann swallows the lump in his throat, Newton slowly getting closer and closer until their noses brush softly.
Not a syllable comes out of their mouths the moment they close the distance, Newton rocking on his tiptoes as their lips lock perfectly against each other and they give in to their first, and Hermann hopes not last, kiss.
He kisses Newton back with intensity, and it’s awkward and beautiful at the same time, the way Newton’s feelings keep pouring into his head and mirror his sentiments, them tenderly brushing their lips as Hermann cups that beloved face between his hands and doesn’t dare to let it go.
They pause for air somehow, cheeks dusted red, foreheads touching as they get lost in each other’s eyes. The warm brown in Hermann’s eyes makes Newton’s breath hitch.
”I kind of dreamed of this.” he murmurs on soft lips, leaning over for another soft kiss:” Now I know you did the same.”
Hermann hums against Newton’s face, kissing his cheeks and face with devotion and drinking away his low sighs. There’s a slight tremble in his voice, but he’s rather sure of his words:”I was afraid, all this time… all these years.”
“We needed to share the mental load to confess, like children.” Newton laughs, mocking Hermann’s very words a few hours ago, and Hermann’s heart expands at that lovely sound.
He tugs Newton closer, resting his head against his shoulder.
“We also fought like children all the time. We will probably keep doing it, tomorrow.”
“That’s very likely.”
They laugh again, and then it’s mostly ragged breaths against heated skin and other, unsaid feelings that uncoil between gentle kisses on teary eyes and hesitant touches on clothed skin, both somehow still afraid of being totally exposed.
They’re then hitting the small bed, Newton falling softly on the mattress and followed by Hermann above him, still kissing and holding each other. The bed feels pretty comfortable under their limbs as the fatigue from that day starts catching up on them, a small yawn against Hermann’s neck making him go still and face Newton.
“Do you want to stay here?” he asks, knuckles brushing against pink cheeks. Newton finds himself nodding, Hermann getting lost in green eyes full of light.
They’re laying under soft covers a moment later, still fully clothed despite being filthy from the day but their bodies closer than ever.
“We should shower first.” Newton weakly proposes, hands travelling on Hermann’s side as they face each other. He really doesn’t want to leave.
Hermann shivers under gentle strokes on his ribs and waist:“We have time for that. Come here.”
In the now shared warmth, Hermann totally forgets about their poor state and he gets lost in dropping kisses on Newton’s face, soft and light, counting the freckles one by one, small sounds coming from that soft mouth.
He swears the blood ring around Newton’s green eye is glowing under his stare, a faint red circle in his own eye matching it by now.
He takes hold of strong and sturdy hands in his bony and smooth ones, kissing scratched knuckles with perdition, sensing the echo of Newton’s surprise and his heart expanding in devotion and wonder at the way he can’t let them go, nuzzling his face between warm and callous palms. Newton’s hands smell of dirt, formalin and something very Newton and Hermann finds himself burying his nose in it, drawing a line of kisses from Newton’s palm to his exposed sleeve, tracing the edges of his tattoos.
“Let me see you.” he murmurs, and Newton lets himself get undressed under that longing gaze, shirt coming off easily as he bears himself under Hermann’s scrutiny, skin hot against smooth hands that hover and brush over inked creatures.
“Didn’t you hate them?” Newton dares to ask, teasing and breathing hard as long fingers keep exploring, no rush involved while Hermann tracks the pathways of Newton’s exposed chest.
“You must know by now that these are your most interesting part. I still can't understand them quite fully, but they’re rather gorgeous… like you.”
“Like me, you say.”
Newton lets Hermann straddle him under the covers, lips following now the inked lines, never insisting enough on one point in particular but meticulously mapping his pecks and abdomen, hands gently feeling the muscle underneath. It feels ridiculous how much care Newton can feel from Hermann’s running thoughts, remains of their Drift in the form of a tingling sensation where Hermann is kissing him, blood running in his veins when he allows himself to card his hands through Hermann’s soft locks and guide him in his devoted mission.
Before he can reach too low, though, Newton finds the strength to tug him away and stop him.
“Not… today. It would be too much.” he hears himself stutter, cheeks an impossible shade of red as Hermann looks up to him, looking more beautiful than ever. Hermann listens and makes his way back up, slowly latching their swollen lips and drinking the soft sounds coming from Newton.
“Can I see you?” Newton hesitantly asks on Hermann’s cheek, arms closing around his neck and finger dipping under the collar:”I want to.”
Hermann gulps, unsure on what Newton will see but nodding at the request: “I guess it’s fair.”
Newton helps him out of his jumper and ridiculously tight shirt, both clothes softly landing on the floor. Hermann hears Newton laugh at the sight of his cotton white undershirt, and even louder at the red spreading on his high cheekbones.
Still the loveliest sound on Earth.
“Layers on layers.”
“It’s… a bit chilly.”
“You’re very fortunate I’m about to warm you up.”
“I do hope so.”
The undershirt comes off and there’s Hermann, now naked above the waist, and Newton stares at his freckles and smooth chest and leans on him to feel his sharp collarbones against his lips, making him shudder and sigh after just a few kisses.
“Sensitive.” he mocks. Hermann breathes in a small whine.
“Shush.”
Skin on skin feels good when Newton draws his hands against Hermann’s back, kissing and sucking his neck, making him shiver against his touch, gentle caresses lulling Hermann to relax completely. There’s something entrancing in the way the Ghost Drift manages to enhance their feelings, touches coming to a slow pace as there is no need to rush it or make it quick, and if feels incredible for the both of them to just hold each other, dropping lazy kisses in the midst of their new shared sentiment, looking into each other’s eyes and hearing the sound of their memories melting and combining.
There’s a hand coming closer to Hermann’s pants, and Hermann catches the flow of Newton’s mind and listens to it, hesitantly closing his hands around tattooed wrists but letting him do as he likes as he’s seeing Newton’s intentions, the wish for a deeper connection.
Melting into the bittersweet memory of his injury, there’s a soothing feeling enveloping Hermann as he lets Newton touch his scar with attention, kiss the frenzied edges of it around his knee and nuzzle his thigh, and he feels lighter and hums against his hand at those gentle ministrations, ending up calling Newton closer to him again when it feels too much and Newton comes to know it too.
Hermann fondly nuzzles his neck as Newton massages his ache away, muscles relaxing under strong and careful hands coming then around his back.
“Sorry.” Newton whispers:”I wanted to see more.”
“You have no reason to be sorry. I wanted you to.”
Hearts come to a steady rhythm and heads feel lighter as they willingly open their mind again, faint memories flowing before their eyes.
A child Newton is inviting a child Hermann to play with him and watch the ants work, their laughter getting lost between branches of tall apple trees while toy airplanes fly above their heads.
A kiss lands on Newton’s temple, a gentle hand through brown locks as Hermann breathes his scent and they close their eyes, still enjoying the vision of their younger selves playing around the colorful garden.
The ghost of a smile appears on Newton’s face as he finally slowly drifts into sleep, arms draped around Hermann and steady heart against his palm.
They both slip into a soft slumber, night warm and finally peaceful.