i just met you and this is crazy (but maybe come on vacation with me?)

Rating: T
Pairing: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Summary: Hermann's won a contest for a week-long couples vacation at a beach-house in California; there's only one problem: he's just broken up.

Enter Newton Geiszler.


The tickets sit on Hermann's dresser, beneath a pamphlet and a mug. He tosses a glance at them, feels the tears swell in his eyes. His fingers tremble slightly as he reaches out, before snatching his hand back. No. He musn't dwell on the events of the past few days.

Instead, he pulls out his phone, taps in the passcode, and scrolls through his contacts. There, halfway through; Newton Geiszler. He hesitates slightly—they're only ever texted and emailed, never called. But—well, he's honestly curious what Newton sounds like; the footage of the lectures Hermann can find online are of a low quality, and he doubts they do justice to the real thing.

He taps call. The phone rings, once, twice, three times, then a fourth, and just before he's about to give up, there's a click. "Newt Geiszler speaking," crackles through the speaker, punctuated by a yawn.

"Newton!" Hermann says, hoping he doesn't sound over-excited. "It's me, Hermann. I was wondering if you wanted to go on an all-expenses-paid week-long vacation in a rental on the California beach?"

There's a moment of silence, and Hermann begins to berate himself.Idiot, of course he doesn't—"…that sounds fantastic," Newton says. "When?"

"Er," Hermann checks the brochure. "Two weeks from now."

"Awesome," Newt enthuses, "text me the details."

Even after he hangs up, the smile still lingers on Hermann's lips. He falls asleep with the thought that he's going to finally, finally meet Newton Geiszler in person.

He texts Newt the details along with a photo of the brochure; Newt texts him a smiley emoji. Hermann tries to tamp down the butterflies that threaten to crawl up his throat. It's uncomfortable, and Hermann hates it.


His first impression of Newt is manic. They've agreed to meet at the Boston Logan Airport—Hermann's changing flights there, and Newt will be joining him, and from there they're continuing to the beach house in Santa Monica.

He's sitting in one of the in-airport cafés, eating a scone, waiting for the other to arrive, when someone slides into the seat opposite him, chirps, "Hey! Hermann?"

Hermann raises his head, takes in the jittery, tattoo-covered form of the man before him. He's nothing like Hermann imagined, and yet, it fits perfectly. "Yes—Newton, I presume?" he asks, mostly on principal, and Newt beams at him.

"This is gonna be awesome!" he enthuses. "Thanks for inviting me, Hermann, really—the dean of sciences' been bugging me about how I never use any of my sick leave or vacation time."

Hermann feels an involuntary smile tugging at his lips. "Yes, well, I suspect it will be good for both of us—to unwind a bit, that is," he replies. "After all, what could possibly go wrong?"

Apparently, a lot. The flight is delayed for two hours, and when they finally board, it turns out that they're sitting a row across from a couple in a heated argument. Exhaustion tugs at Hermann, making him even more irritable and snappish, and, to top it all off, he's forgotten his earplugs.

"We should watch a movie or something," Newt suggests, "that always helps me fall asleep on flights."

Hermann sighs. "I suppose I don't really have anything to lose, do I?"

They wind up watching some ridiculously sappy Hallmark movie Newt's got downloaded on his iPad, sharing a pair of earbuds, the screen balanced on the divider between them. In the dim light of the cabin, face half-hidden in shadow, Newt's face is open and expressive, and he looks, for once, his age. The stress of working for the PPDC while also juggling his teaching position melts away; it's a good look on him, Hermann muses.

Eventually, his eyes begin to drift shut, and he slumps slightly, leaning against the other in a half-asleep haze. Newt shifts, allowing Hermann to rest his head against his shoulder, the warmth of his skin against Hermann's pulling him further down into the deep well of sleep.

Before he drifts off, something brushes against his forehead softly, and someone murmurs something comforting when he shifts into a more comfortable position, a warmth against his hand, and he surrenders to the darkness, mind going peacefully silent.