Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Also, I've never written Pacific Rim before, so be gentle with me.

Rated K+ for coarse language.

Newt was twenty-three when the first Kaiju hit San Francisco. He knew there was something seriously wrong with him, because as people mourned the thousands of dead left by the Kaiju that was later dubbed 'Trespasser', he couldn't help but watch and re-watch the news reports and think, 'Damn. That's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen'. They of course thought that this was an isolated incident at the time, so Newt never thought he'd get lucky enough to see the corpse in person, let alone study its insides. But oh, he wanted to.

His interest was what made him meet Hermann Gottlieb, who also saw more to the attack than just a monster whose corpse needed to be disposed of, and the two of them started corresponding through emails and letters. That was 2014. But then the two met and 2017 and Newt knew he would never get along with the man. Too stuffy. Too… accent-y. And who the fuck owns sweater vests that are quite that ugly? Newt was trying to break the stereotypes of nerd-ism, but Hermann Gottlieb was making them ten times worse just by existing. After meeting, Newt promptly decided he'd never see or speak to the man again.

But still, Newt's interest in Kaiju only got stronger as they continued to stream out of the ocean—from a wormhole-like fissure called The Breach—and he made it his business to learn all he could about them. He got his first tattoo in 2017, then became addicted to getting them until more than three fourths of his body was coated in Kaiju.

So fifty tattoos, six doctorates, and a year at the Jaeger academy later, he was one of the scientists that studied Kaiju. Well, actually, a lot of people studied them, but none with so much fervor as Newt. That's why when the Jaeger program was shut down and they couldn't pay scientists anymore, he was the only biologist that stayed. Of all the scientists that claimed to care about finding answers more than the money, only two stayed when the well ran dry.

The other was Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt couldn't imagine why. He didn't think there was anything amazing about the Kaiju like Newt did. Probably he wanted the fame that closing The Breach would get him. But no matter the reason, their agreement never to see each other again was shattered when they were both stationed in Hong Kong, and then shattered even worse when they became the entire K-Science division once all the others left.

And that's where Newt was now. People probably imagined he was as happy as he could ever be. He loved Kaiju, after all. He was obsessed with them. So of course spending all his time cutting them open was his goal in life.

And maybe that was true, to a point. But he had a little bit of a secret.

Newt never told anyone this. Never in a million years. But even as he went through med school, and then learned that he was more interested in Kaiju anatomy than human, and then became the leading expert on the planet on the inner-workings of the alien beasts… He'd always idolized Jaeger pilots.

He'd always, deep inside, wanted to be one.

Which didn't even make sense to him. If he liked Kaiju, then why would he want to kill one? But that wasn't really it. Obviously, if he were a Jaeger pilot, killing one would be inevitable, but that wasn't the reason he had always wanted to be one.

He wanted to be on the level of a Kaiju. He wanted the two of them to look eye to eye. He wanted to be up on the level of the monsters that he couldn't help but marvel at.

He wasn't sure what was stupider: the fact that he obsessed over a creature that had no qualms killing his entire species or that what he wanted more than anything was to be able to stand across from a Kaiju, the same size as it, just to experience it up close and personal.

But he learned in the Jaeger Academy that he wasn't Drift compatible anyway—at least not with anyone he'd tried with—so it didn't matter. He never told anyone he'd even thought about the possibility of piloting a Jaeger, because they'd all laugh, like they already did as they called him a 'Kaiju groupie'.

But that didn't mean that he ever lost the desire. It was always there in the back of his mind.

So when the idea came to him that he could learn more about the Kaiju by Drifting with one, it was perfect. He knew he'd struck gold. He could accomplish both his goals at the same time: by Drifting, he could experience at least part of what it was to pilot a Jaeger, and by Drifting with part of a Kaiju brain, he could share thoughts with one, if only for a few moments, and then he and a Kaiju would be more on the same level than anyone could ever be otherwise.

So that was the first time he Drifted. Even though afterwards he felt jumbled and shaky and like he was going to throw up for hours, there was nothing like it. When Pentecost told him to do it again, he was ecstatic. Of course he wanted to do it again. Even if it killed him.

But the second time he Drifted.

That was the time that changed his life.

Because he Drifted with a full brain, first of all.

But second… he Drifted with another person.

Of all fucking people… with Hermann Gottlieb.

Immediately after the Drift, there wasn't enough time to really think about it much. They had information that was too important, too time sensitive, for Newt to think at all. The two of them went back to the Shatterdome, they watched with bated breath as Raleigh and Mako managed to close the Breach, and they'd even shared a single hug after the plan worked.

And all of Newt's research was over. The Kaiju were over. Drifting was over—they didn't need Jaegers anymore. He'd always known deep inside that he'd never pilot a Jaeger, but now it was really true. And he would leave the Shatterdome, leave this field of study, and he'd have to study something normal with one of his six doctorates. So even as other people celebrated, he found himself disappointed.

Which again, was insane. The Kaiju had been killing people! Closing the Breach was nothing short of a fucking miracle.

But that didn't make the pit in his stomach go away.

It was the next day when he was sitting in the empty lab that he started to think back on Drifting with Hermann.

It was like Hermann had been some sort of robot to him until that moment. The things he saw in his head…

More than anything, the insecurities. Too skinny, too nerdy, too up-tight. All the things that Newt had always teased Hermann for… Hermann saw them too. And he hated them just as much as Newt pretended to. It made a ball of guilt the size of a Kaiju shit form in Newt's stomach, perpetuating the man's own negative feelings about himself.

So that's when it all started. Drifting with the Kaiju, and in turn Drifting with Hermann, was what made Newt start to see Hermann as something other than a lab partner. He was a person too.

That's when everything began to get complicated.

Newt was staring at the remains of a Kaiju littered all over his desk. He was mostly in here because reporters wouldn't stop talking to him ever since everything happened with closing the Breach, and he had to act all excited that he'd done it. He just wanted some time to mope. So he'd hidden away in the now useless K-Science lab.

It's not like his time with Kaiju was completely over. He'd have to publish more papers on it. Maybe for the rest of his life. Not to mention he'd be interviewed about this for ages. Obviously, Mako and Raleigh would get most of the credit, but he was already getting a little of it too. He and Hermann, the only scientists that stuck with the program even after they stopped getting paid. How heroic of them.

He gave a little ironic chuckle at the thought, which echoed in the vacant room.

But overall, this was done. He'd have to spend his life doing something else. He'd have to leave the Shatterdome. He'd lived in one Shatterdome or another for so long that the thought of living in an actual house, or apartment or whatever, was strange to him. He'd gotten used to the idea that he might be in a Shatterdome for the rest of his life… but not anymore.

And then there was Hermann. He never in his life thought he'd even think this, but he wasn't looking forward to working in a lab that he didn't share with the obnoxious prude. Especially after their Drift. After seeing there was more to him than what he always supposed.

As if Hermann knew Newt was thinking about him, he suddenly spoke. Newt had no idea when he walked in, but he said, "Newton—"

"It's Newt," he said automatically.

But Hermann ignored him, as per usual, and continued, "I'm quite sure that I've never seen your legs so still."

Newt looked down absently, as if checking if Hermann was right. Newt had always been twitchy and hyperactive—all his teachers hated him, even if he was the smartest in all his classes, because he couldn't keep still. But now, just as Hermann had said, his legs weren't twitching. He looked to Hermann, and somehow his face looked different than he remembered. It didn't look so much like he was trying to shit out that stick up his ass.

"Neither have I," Newt elected to respond, looking at the specimens on his table again before asking, "What brings you here?"

"Hiding from the press," said Hermann, and Newt could hear his cane hitting the floor as he walked.

Newt turned again to look at Hermann, who had sat down on the couch in the corner. "I thought you'd love the press. Getting to be a rockstar for saving the world and all that."

"Do I seem the type that desires being a 'rockstar'?" he asked, and Newt had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at him.

"You know what I mean. I thought you'd want the credit."

"Are you under the impression I've been doing all this for the credit?"

Newt stared at the man again. "Well… yeah, I guess. I couldn't imagine why else you'd be here."

Hermann gave a humorless half-smile. "I think it would be better if you don't make assumptions about my intentions."

"They why are you here?"

Hermann's eyes narrowed. "Since when do you care?"

Back before the Drift, this would have just seemed like him being an ass again as usual. But after… it was that self-consciousness rearing its ugly head again, Newt was sure of it.

But Newt didn't have time to answer.

"Oh, what, has our Drift made you think we should be friends now?"

Newt was surprised with how much that comment felt like a punch to the gut, as scathing as it sounded. He didn't know what to say—which was saying something, because he'd been told before that he needed to learn how to shut up.

Maybe Hermann noticed that too, the strange silence that never occurred when Newt was in a room, because the bitterness in his face dissolved a little. "Newton—"

"Newt," he said again, because it really was a natural reaction by now.

This time Hermann huffed in irritation before finishing his thought. "This doesn't change anything. The two of us can't get along. Seeing each other's minds doesn't make that fundamental fact disappear."

Newt stood up. "What did you see? In my head?"

"A thing or two," said Hermann stuffily before standing himself and heading for his desk.

"Oh, come on, just tell me one thing."

"You saw it too."

"I was paying attention to what didn't have to do with me," said Newt. "What did you see?"

Hermann continued to gaze at Newt silently. "Well, I felt you getting your seventeenth tattoo," he finally said. "It was painful."

Newt chuckled a little. "That one hurt worse because it was over my hipbone."

"I never thought you had quite so many," he said, and Newt might have imagined the quick up-and-down glance Hermann gave him, as if imagining all the tattoos Newt might have, and where they all might be.

"I… yeah," Newt said awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck as the silence went from awkward to really awkward. Before the silences had been resentful, and neither felt the need to speak to the other without yelling… but now things were different. Hermann could pretend that the Drift didn't change anything, but it was a lie and they both knew it.

Then Newt displayed his really quite impressive ability to speak without giving it the least bit of thought beforehand. He said, "I saw you after you asked out that guy in high school. That was rough." Newt had felt it, after all. Not pleasant.

Hermann's eyes widened and he blushed—something Newt never thought he'd see. He started spluttering angrily. "You saw—I—that's not—" He took a deep breath, trying to speak coherently. He was glaring at Newt now. "That… my… It's not open information, the fact that I… I am…"

"Gay?" provided Newt.

Hermann scowled. "Yes. That."

"Hey, it's no big deal. I just kinda go with the flow. Guy, girl—"

"Kaiju?"

Newt couldn't help but smile at Hermann's attempt at a joke. "Oh yeah, did you see Otachi? She basically sexually violated me with her glowy tongue thingy. Pretty sexy."

"Newton, you are utterly ridiculous," said Hermann, shaking his head.

"It's Newt."

"I'm never going to call you that," said Hermann.

"So wha'did you see?" Newt repeated.

"What does it matter?" asked Hermann huffily.

"Because I wondered if you saw anything that could make you think we could be friends."

Hermann looked surprised. "Newton, are you feeling alright?" he asked.

Newt didn't really understand the question. "Other than the fact that you can't call me by my name? Sure."

"I just don't understand what's got you like this. So calm… sentimental."

"I can be sentimental," said Newt.

"It's a surprise," said Hermann.

Newt's temper, which was always easy to ignite, but was worse with Hermann, flared up. His voice went up three octaves—when his voice was already higher than most men. "Coming from you, who has the emotional range of a calculator! What the hell is your problem? You're so damaged that you can't handle someone wanting to be your friend?"

"Why would I want a deranged tattoo flaunting, Satan-worshipping Kaiju-lover as a friend?"

"For the last time, metal music has nothing to do with worshipping Satan! Jesus, it's like buttoning your shirt up to the last button is causing you oxygen deprivation!"

The two of them were so enthralled in their screaming match that neither heard when Herc came in. "Girls, girls!" Both of them looked over, shutting up instantly. Herc had been in a pretty rotten mood for the past few days—with good reason. His son had died, after all. "Quit flirting, will you? The press wants to talk to you both. Together. So if you could stop yelling for long enough to do that, it'd be great." He stomped back out.

Newt saw as Hermann continued to glare at him, but Newt stared after Herc even after he'd walked out. He couldn't understand why the words were echoing hollowly in his head.

Quit flirting.

He'd been joking, of course, but Newt had never thought of it that way. The two of them yelled and yelled at each other… but was it all just flirting?

By the time he looked over to Hermann, he'd walked closer. "We have to go out there. Would you stop daydreaming?"

"Herm, listen—"

"Did you just call me—never call me that again," said Hermann.

Newt didn't let himself get annoyed by that and continued, "Why does it have to be like this?"

"Because—you—must we have this conversation now?! We have to go!"

"Yes, we have to have it now! I don't get why—"

"Dr. Geiszler, listen to me very closely. You and I are colleagues. And after all this is over, we'll be nothing to each other. Are we clear on that?"

Newt was astounded by how much that hurt. He expected anger to be what bubbled up… but no, he just felt wounded.

"Yeah, okay," he said.

The next chapter should be out pretty soon, I'm halfway done with it already. Hope you liked it. Please review and let me know what you thought. Thanks in advance.