ha, i won

newt/hermann #4 for the kiss challenge, please!!

Hermann uses kisses to distract Newt from staying inside all day watching TV series he illegally downloaded >o

i l still love these two..so mcuh ; o; 

#4 kiss on the eyelids

Newt/Hermann where Newt discovers Hermann has a Newt-shaped body pillow to cuddle with.

(not quite what you wanted, but I wasn’t sure how to not make it creepy)

“Happy birthday!”

Hermann opens an eye, Newt climbs on top of him, grinning down; “Some people might let their husband sleep in on their birthday,” he yawns;

Newt’s smile falters, “Yeah well, he’d be waking up alone, then;”

Both eyes open, “Are you going already-”

Newt shrugs, “In a couple of hours, I wanted to make you breakfast;” he points at the tray on the nightstand;

“Well then,” Hermann smiles, and sits up; “I suppose that would make up for it;”

It does, as does the hot cup of perfectly made tea, and the quick but very pleasant coupling they enjoy afterwards;

“Want your presents now?” Newt rests his head on his shoulder, as Hermann catches his breath afterwards;

“You won’t give me any peace until I do-” Hermann stretches, “Bring them over then;”

“Yes your majesty;” Newt rolls his eyes, but kisses him anyway;

Hermann had never had so many presents, before he took up with Newt; but Newton loves giving presents as much as he likes receiving them; Hermann opens the little boxes of books, films, theatre tickets to a show Hermann had wanted to see-

And a massive soft thing, a sort of pillow almost as big as he is; Hermann squeezes it, it’s yielding and comforting; “It’s lovely;”

Newt bounces on the bed, “Open it then;”

Hermann does; it’s- colourful, all bright blue and pinks and-

“Are those your tattoos-” Hermann traces the familiar shapes;

“Yep;” Newt grins, “I thought, you’re an octopus in bed, and I’m off for a week so you’re gonna want something to hold- so I made it, d’you like it-”

Hermann gives it a squeeze, it even smells like Newt, all the work he’s put in making it has soaked him into the cloth; with luck, the smell will last a week; “It’s wonderful my dear;” Hermann smiles, “Thank you;”

“No problem;” Newt flumps down beside him, he sighs, “I’m gonna miss you;”

Hermann gives up the bodypillow for the real thing- he’ll have plenty of time to get to know it; “I will too;” Hermann sighs, “Get your work over quickly, and get the first place home;”

“I will,” Newt kisses him, “Love you babe.”

May I request a Newmann? If so, how about them sitting together doing a report or something while linking arms. :)

Not quite exactly what you asked for. But I do like the idea of one of them looking over the other’s shoulder as they work. 

More of the partially transformed!Newt verse, please? Maybe show us some of Hermann's search for Newt, and Newt's panic when he is found, before he realizes it's Hermann that found him?

A few of the Jaeger techs have stayed in Hong Kong, which is why Hermann hears of the urban myth circling the streets- of a monstrous creature lurking in the sewers, spotted only at night- an unnamed victim of Kaiju Blue poisoning who had turned into a Kaiju;

And it might be wishful thinking, or the endless sleepless night without closure, the open ache of the Ghost Drift, but Hermann has to go, he has to know- if there’s any chance-

He prints out plans of the sewers, brings boltcutters and torches, and catches a plane to Hong Kong.

The rains are here again, almost a year since the end of the war- almost a year since he’d seen Newt-

The thought draws an ache of misery in his heart;

But the weather keeps people off the streets, and the cloud bank covers the moon; away from the streetlights, Hermann snaps through the chain-link of the gate, and climbs into the sewer;

He wades warily into the water in his wellingtons, the heavy rains mean that the smell isn’t too offensive, but he still tries to breathe through his nose wherever possible, and feeling his way with his cane;

He checks the laminated map, there are miles of tunnels, but- god, if he has to stay here for days, he will;

——————————

There’s someone in here with him;

Newt tenses in his little nest; he can hear them, even over the dull roar of the water, someone banging and splashing through the drains;

Newt presses himself against the floor, his little home is dry, lined with old quilts and mattresses and blankets; he has enough food after his last foray for a few more days, all he has to do is relax here, and listen to however it is go away;

But no one goes down here in the rains, unless something goes wrong, and Newt can hear the drains are fine; why would anyone-

But he knows, Newt curls in on himself and groans wearily, please no, it’s been nearly a year, surely Chau has forgotten about him-

But he’s been seen, he tries to keep a low profile when he comes out, but it’s inevitable; if those people had talked, and Chau had heard-

Newt wants to run, there’s nowhere to run, should he just stay here, block up the door and wait for them to go away, or comes out, and- check;

Check if they’re a threat, and if they are-

Newt flexes his claws, they have grown back, as have his teeth; the scales are heavy and close against his body; he is a Kaiju, he can stop them if he needs to;

Finally, and born more from a nervous desperation to move than anything else, he slips out of his little home;

The darkness of the sewers are clear to him, his pupils expanding, filtering any light and giving him a colourless image of the world. he pads through the water, towards the faint splashing;

There’s only one of them, and they have a torch, anyone Chau would send wouldn’t be alone, and wouldn’t be so obvious; Newt relaxes a little- just someone down on a dare, and is about to turn and leave-

“Ah- shiesse-” The man curses;

Newt freezes because- that voice, the man is splashing for something he’s dropped in the water, torchlight wavering; Newt can see the water ripple as something large floats down towards him, he reaches out, and hooks the thing to the bank;

It’s a cane, wood and brass and so familiar his heart nearly stops; the man stumbles back into the wall and groans, burying his face in his hands;

Newt picks up the cane, “Hermann?”

The man stiffens, turns, “Hello- is anyone-” and oh fuck it’s him, it’s him-

“Hermann-” Newt all but leaps towards him, claws scrabbling on the brickwork;

“Newton-” Hermann’s voice breaks, he stumbles, unsteady without the cane; “Newt-”

Newt catches him and doesn’t care, throwing himself against that lean, lanky body, hands knotting into his clothes and oh it’s Hermann, he’s here-

Hermann’s hands clutch him, pull him closer and he buries his face in Newt’s shoulder, “Oh, my dear, my dear-” his voice is thick and he’s probably crying and Newt’s probably crying and he doesn’t care he’s so happy.