fortunate lapses of judgement
Rating: T
Pairing: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Summary: "In which Hermann accidentally texts Newt"
The thing is.
The thing is, he didn't mean to do it. He's had Newton's number for almost a year now, and he's been able to suppress the urge, the instinct, that roars within him, for that long.
The sun's shining through the blinds when his alarm goes off; ringing incessantly from the bedside table; and he reaches out blindly to grab it and pull it down to himself, swiping at the screen in vain a few times before he finally manages to turn it off.
He opens it; checks the weather and his email; listens to the voicemails he's accumulated in the intervening time since he last checked his inbox; scrolls aimlessly through his contacts.
One, in particular, catches his eye. It's labelled, carefully, N. Geiszler, and Hermann remembers vaguely getting the number off of Newton's MIT staff web-page. (He's not particularly proud of the fact that he went searching for it, but whatever.)
After a few moments of staring at it, he does something incredibly out of character for Hermann Gottlieb, doctoral-student and aspiring physicist, to do: he taps it and selects the messages option; and then, before he can regret it, types, Hello Newton.
It takes a few seconds after he hits send for the reality of it to hit him—and when it does, it's like a train; knocking him back against the pillows and leaving him staring at the ceiling trying not to panic.
A second later, there's a buzz; a reply. whos this?
Hermann bites his tongue—does he brush it off as a wrong number? Does he explain himself? Surely Newton will have questions, and Hermann isn't sure he wants to answer them.
In the end, he goes with the second option. Hermann Gottlieb, he replies, I do believe we are acquainted.
Acquainted would be one way of describing the—thing between them. They've been exchanging letters for two and a half years, now, and Hermann considers Newton to be one of his closest confidants.
The typing ellipses pop up; and then: how did u get my number? quickly followed by fuck i still have it up on the mit staff page dont i
Hermann smiles lightly at Newton's deduction. The other man's always been quick on the uptake—it's something Hermann appreciates greatly about him
You do, he agrees. You might want to change that.
yea probably.
im too lazy to do it rn tho
plus if i do then how will my mysterious overseas friends find out how to contact me
not that i dont appreciate the letters!
its just nice to finally have a faster way to talk yk
The messages come within seconds of each other; and Hermann remembers Newton describing himself as very talkative. Hermann types out his response more slowly, as he's still half asleep. I concur. I'm glad you forgot to take your personal number off the web-page.
web-page
what are u, 90?
Twenty-six, actually
i know im just teasing u
Oh. Hermann sits awkwardly for a few moments, and then, finally: Well, you text like a twelve-year-old
lol
ur not wrong tho
They spend the rest of the day texting back and forth; and by the end of the day, it feels like he's been having a face-to-face conversation with Newton. It's…exhausting, honestly, but incredibly enjoyable.
He's just about to get into bed when his phone buzzes. we should meet up
Hermann yawns widely as he taps out a reply. I'd love to. But it's also 11pm for me, so I'd like to request that we…raincheck this conversation, as it were, for tomorrow.
ok. gn herms. sleep well
Hermann's smiling so widely he doesn't even protest the nickname. Goodnight, Newton. Sweet dreams.
