date night
Rating: T
Pairing: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Summary: "Newt takes Hermann on a date. Predictably, Geiszlerian luck comes into play."
"You ready for tonight?"
Hermann looks up from his work; fixing his gaze on Newton, who's paused in his own work, and is leaning over the (thankfully clean) stainless-steel table, his arms crossed. "Tonight?" Hermann asks, frowning slightly, and trying to remember what Newton could possibly be on about.
"Tonight!" Newton repeats, grinning and waggling his brows. "Date night, dude!" He bounces on his heels—excitable as ever.
Hermann hums. He does remember, now that Newton mentions it—Newton asked him two weeks back, and they agreed on tonight. It had slipped his mind, but now that Newton reminds him, he finds a slight smile rising to his face. "You still haven't told me what to be ready for," he points out.
"It's a surprise," Newton says. "Just—dress kinda casual. Get out of your old man clothes for once, relax a bit."
Hermann rolls his eyes. "It's called dressing professionally, which you'd know, if you were inclined to wear anything that doesn't look like you never grew out of mistakenly thinking you were "cool" in secondary school," he retorts, drily.
The biologist raises a hand; clutching at his chest. "You wound me," he says, gasping theatrically. "I'll have you know that I was, in fact, cool in high school. I was, like, the coolest."
Hermann raises a brow.
Newton scowls. "Shut up."
"I didn't say anything."
"I can hear you thinking it though," Newton huffs. "Anyway, my point is—be ready. I'll pick you up at seven. It's gonna be great—I'm gonna absolutely rock your world." He tosses Hermann a wink.
Hermann makes a face of mock horror. "You're a horrid little man," he sniffs. Still, though, he finds himself excited and wondering what Newton has in store—will it be something romantic? A nice dinner, perhaps? No—Newton said casual dress.
So absorbed does he become that, when the program he's been running gives a little chime to inform him that it's finished saving his work, he lets out an only half-muffled startled yelp and nearly tips out of his chair.
Fortunately, he does catch himself just in time. Unfortunately, Newton has just come out of his own state of deep focus, in his case on the report that's due the next day that he should have started the previous week, and catches sight of Hermann's almost-fall, and lets out an inelegant snort.
"Shut up," Hermann says, blushing furiously, and tries to hide his face without making it obvious what he's doing.
Newton knocks on his door at seven o'clock sharp, much to Hermann's surprise. He's wearing a clean grey button-up and a pair of unripped jeans, and has foregone his absurdly skinny tie, and looks quite nice. "Hey!" he says, and thrusts a banquette at Hermann.
"Oh, dear," Hermann says, faintly, eyes watering. "Pardon—pardon me—!" He sneezes once, doubling over, and then again, and then a third time, and backs away.
"Hermann?" Newton says; alarmed, and takes a step towards him.
Hermann holds a hand up. "Don't," he croaks. Newton heeds his words, thankfully; and, after a few moments, Hermann is able to stand up properly, clutching his cane tightly. "Allergies," he manages, eyes no longer watering.
Newton's eyes widen. "Oh, shit," he breathes. "Ugh, sorry—fuck. Uh—here, I'll just…" he looks around, presumably for a wastebin, and, finding none, sighs. "I'll just toss it on the way there, I guess." He gives a forlorn sigh. "No holding your hand for me until then, I guess."
Hermann gives a grimace. "Probably for the best."
They make the trip to what turns out to be the aquarium without incident; Newton does, in fact, hold Hermann's hand after he disposes of the ill-fated flowers, and Hermann is quite pleased by that, though he'd never admit it.
"What do you mean we can't go in?" Newton asks the guard at the aquarium's main entrance. "It's Tuesday—I know for a fact that you're open until nine."
"I'm sorry, sir," the guard says. "The aquarium is not currently open to the public due to reconstruction."
Newton lets out a heavy sigh. "Fine," he says. "Sorry, Herms."
"It's alright," Hermann says; trying to hide his disappointment, "it's hardly your fault."
"There's a nice little place down the street if you want to go for a bite," Newton offers, "uh, I'll pay, obviously. And I know for a fact that it's open 'cause we passed it on the way here."
"…alright," Hermann says, "I could eat something."
The place in question is a small hole in the wall, but it's one that Hermann's been to before and rather enjoys the food. They order without incident—a bowl of dumplings for Newton, and a plate of vegetable noodles for Hermann—, and, though Hermann's a bit disappointed still, he's rather enjoying himself.
Newton, however, is not similarly satisfied; in fact, Hermann would go as far as to say that he's sulking—poking listlessly at his food, and not even trying to hold Hermann's hand beneath the table.
By the time they're done, the sun's set, and so they make their way back to the shatterdome. Newton doesn't speak much at all beyond monosyllables, though, and Hermann finds his patience waning, and his somewhat alleviated mood falling steadily.
Finally, he snaps, "Could you please just tell me what's wrong and stop acting like you lost a sack-race?"
"I'm not!" Newton retorts. "I just—ugh." He sighs. "I'm sorry, dude, I just…I thought it was going to be perfect, you know? I was going to take you to the aquarium, and then get you something at the cafe, and maybe even give you a kiss."
Hermann purses his lips. "Your optimism is sometimes very frustrating, Newton. You run the very fine line between delusion and optimism, and have completely unrealistic expectations of success…"
Newton huffs. "Yeah. Yeah, I know, I just—I wanted it to be perfect for you—"
"Let me finish," Hermann cuts in; glaring slightly, before he lets his expression soften. "Your expectations were unrealistic, and you had practically set yourself up for failure. However…" he pauses, before reaching out to take Newton's hand. "Despite the fact that your initial plan didn't work out, the food was very nice—the only thing missing was your conversation."
At that, Newton perks up. "Really?" he asks.
Hermann nods. "Really."
"Then…" Newton bites his lip. "Can I maybe try it again? 'Cause…'cause I want to."
"That could be arranged, I think," Hermann says; lips twitching slightly at the giant grin that splits across Newton's face.
"Sweet," Newton says, and squeezes his hand. "Uh—do you want to come over to my place and watch something and cuddle, maybe?"
"I'd like that," Hermann says; and follows him down the hall and into his quarters.
Once they're inside, Newton putters around to find a quilt. He does eventually find one, though, and brings it back to the couch along with his laptop, and tucks the quilt over them, getting the film started.
After ten minutes or so, Newton's hand creeps back into his, and he relaxes against Hermann, head resting on his shoulder.
"Are you even paying attention to the film?" Hermann murmurs.
"Nah. Not really," Newton whispers. "'s Jurassic Park, I've seen it lots. Plus, I'm paying attention to you. You're really nice for cuddling, dude."
"My life's purpose has been fulfilled," Hermann says drily, but curls a bit closer to the other, relishing in the warmth and comfort.
