"We are men of science, Newton; we do not resort to physical violence to solve an argument. At least I don't." Their reasoned philosophical discussion was going nowhere. One of the things Newton admired and hated about Hermann in equal parts was his ability to control his emotions. He knew full well that Hermann sincerely wanted to deck him as much as he himself wanted to deck Hermann and so knowing the self control that must take on a daily basis made him positively infuriated. I guess I'll have to fantasize about punching him too...

"How 'bout I punch you first," Newton replied.

"I doubt if it'd do much," Hermann said arrogantly.

"Ok," Newton said calmly with a smile. He locked eyes with Hermann with a loving smirk and planted a big fat kiss on his knuckles. Bam!

"Christ, that hurt!" Newton almost felt sorry for doing it. "That was a rather good right hook, Geiszler." Hermann put a hand up to his cheekbone.

"Come on," Newton said licking his lips, still smiling, "Your turn. Or are you going to work out an equation to get the best trajectory?" Pow! Hermann had braced himself on his cane with his right hand while Newton was talking and the second he shut his mouth, Hermann got him right in the kisser with a well aimed straight left.

"Holy shit! Ah!" Newton said from behind his hand. His hand came back with a spot of blood on it. His lip was shining and red. Hermann looked concerned for a nanosecond but changed back to his usual blank look. His eyes betrayed him a little and so Newton's next punch was a little less vicious. He got him in the mouth with a strong jab. Hermann swore. His mouth was bleeding too. Newton wanted to wipe it away but before he had a chance to think about it Hermann struck him again. Newton stumbled backward, holding his jaw.

"Holy shit was that a backfist?"

"I believe so. … Um, perhaps we should stop." Hermann was almost out of breath.

"Yeah yeah, that's fine. I think we proved my point." Newton looked up to see Hermann wipe his mouth and he walked over to him with a hankie to take care of it, to make amends.

"Newton, there really is no need." But Newt didn't listen, as usual, and ushered him into a chair and soaked up the blood with the white cloth.

"Newton, why did you kiss your fist before you punched me?"

"Because I should have done this." Newton kissed him on his flushed lips. Before Hermann could do anything about it, Newton kissed his reddened cheekbone that would start to bruise. Hermann wasted no time in reciprocation, pulled Newt closer by his waist and kissed his jaw tenderly. Newton straddled the man's lap, letting Hermann indemnify with his own wounded lips. When they dared to look at one another again, Newton brushed the disheveled strands of hair off Hermann's face. Again, their lips met; the hint of Newton's blood still lingered. The violence now subsided, their kissing was luxurious and gentle. They parted, satisfied.

"Perhaps anger hasn't been the problem with us after all," Hermann said, caressing Newton's back. Oh my God, that's it. The anger isn't the problem, it's what's causing the anger. I probably wouldn't get so pissed off at him if I didn't have feelings for him...

"I mean," Hermann said after Newton's extraordinarily long pause, "the last thing you and I need is to settle a conflict with physical contact." Holy hell, dude, think about what you just said. "We should be taking out all our frustrations in a disciplined way," Hermann added, "With...debate...and intellect..." And sex. Lots of sex. Making out for like an hour and then sex. You want physical contact. I'll give you physical contact. You won't have the energy to punch me even if you wanted to.