Chapter Text
A light dusting of dirt floated among the crowd where Hermann Gottlieb sat considering his attributes. He was a man of many gifts, that much was easily established. Some were mental, others - to be put delicately - were more physical. But of all the things he had going for him, he decided without much fanfare that wanton sympathy was not one of them. This was a hypothesis he considered proven by the fact that his version of assisting the astrophysics team with their yearly fundraiser carnival was to make a brief appearance without any offer to help. He supposed he ought to feel mildly guilty about that, considering the fact that he was one of the three professors on campus that technically ran the thing, but he found he had difficulty mustering up the effort to care when the summer semester sun was beating down on the loose floating dirt that was threatening to cake his already gritted teeth. He had not foregone the sweater vest in deference to the heat. God forbid. But the crowds that swarmed around him as he sat awkwardly on a sticky bench and observed the admitted success of the event threatened to test his resolve.
The crowds, however, were hardly the first thing to do so. Not when that absolute ASS stood so near, existing and moving and breathing without the slightest idea that the very concept of his doing so was putting a strain on Hermann and his very reluctantly attached heart.
Hermann had maintained a strict "no dating coworkers" rule since his very first job as a document runner for a law firm that worked closely with his father. The policy had been admittedly easy to follow at the time, mostly due to disinterest, 40 year age gaps, and pedophilia laws. But Hermann had grown and the policy had stayed, supported by his inability to socialise properly in any way shape or form. His obtusely logical brain told him that he oughtn't break the streak now, and definitely not for a short and wild little man with lizard tattoos. They were both tenured, the youngest of their fellows at the university - an accomplishment that meant neither of them was going anywhere. So his having any sort of long distance affection was absolutely absurd, especially considering the fact that they had yet to hold a conversation.
Or at least a good one.
There had been that time in the elevator. He couldn't remember exactly WHAT it was that started it, but he knew at least that by the time the doors opened for the fifth floor they were BOTH yelling. Unlike every assertion his late father had made to the contrary, it would seem he wasn't ALWAYS the cause of arguments and tension. That one had seemed more than mutual.
All this considered, the interest Hermann unwittingly maintained in the man dancing ridiculously next to a game booth 20 feet from him was completely irrational. And the fact that he'd been staring at him through the passing crowds for the last five minutes straight was absolutely absurd.
He shook himself awake internally and realised they had made eye contact. Oh god. How long had they been doing that? And the man was still dancing, trying to tempt openly awkward freshmen to try their hand at the strongman game he seemed to have volunteered to run. Apparently the man had a better handle on the whole "sympathy" concept than did Hermann. Despite all this distraction, however, his smug but soft gaze didn't seem to falter.
Still staring. Oh no, the man winked. Oh GOD. Why one earth would this happen. What's a proper response. A scowl? Hopefully, as it seemed there was already one plastered on his face.
In a stroke of good luck, he was spared further embarrassment thanks to the eye contact being broken by the other participant before he was forced to do it himself. What was the man's name? Liz, short for Lizard? Hermann seriously doubted it, although the ridiculousness of his tattoos seemed to beg to differ. And oh god, apparently he had spaced out again. The absolute munchkin of a human being seemed to have broken off a conversation with some overenthusiastic coeds with the express purpose of walking as slowly as humanly possible in a direction that seemed to be suspiciously close to Hermann's own.
Shitshitshit.
"-and because the simple laws of Newtonian physics allow for your success, dude, you literally CANT say no to this"
The ridiculous man seemed to have gone off on a tangent right in Hermann's general direction, holding a golden token out between forefinger and thumb with a grin that was absolutely obscene to be sporting on school property.
Oh no, had he been talking to him? But why? How to respond? More scowling? Hopefully, it seemed his nerves had decided for him on that account.
With a bemused snort, the man grabbed one of Hermann's hands from its sweaty death grip on his cane, unfolded the fingers with no small amount of effort, and placed the token on his palm, before turning heel and walking back to the stand he was meant to be manning, babbling the whole way as if he expected Hermann to follow him around and hang on to his every word without being asked.
It was an affront, he thought, as he worked to keep up.
"See, the contraption is relatively simple dude. No tricks of the trade up my sleeves, tatted or otherwise. Just a classic exertion of force and equal reaction in the form of kinetic energy. Whack the spring with a hammer hard enough, the bell goes off, you win a prize! And you've practically already won since I've oh-so-generously given you a token for the game and by my calculations you ought to be more than capable of that sort of thing. Not only that, but once you have you'll never be able to repay me for the amazing experience. You'll spend the rest of your life trying. These are just the facts. So don't shit on my belief in you man, cause I've already got my eyes on the perfect plushy toy for you to take home". The man reached out and stroked the stomach of a particularly hideous stuffed cow.
Hermann, for his part, was affronted. He had been dragged from his reverie to play a children's game that - by his very reliable calculations - he ought to be able to beat with little or no effort. Not only that, but the man just wouldn't stop TALKING. Even after the explanation of the rules was over and done with, it definitely didn't mean he was. He meant to say as much. Instead he just barely managed to snap out "What's your name".
It was hardly a question. If anything it had somehow come out a command. A much firmer one than he would've expected given how out of control of the entire situation he currently felt.
"Dr Newton Geiszler, but you can call me Newt, or for drinks, any time" the man said with an exaggerated wink.
Hermann frowned. He could call him... Fordrinks? What kind of nickname was that? He was about to ask as much when he felt his ears go warm, clearly catching up with the program before his dazed brain. How was he supposed to respond to that? Say yes? Say no? Abandon the no coworkers rule completely and ask the ridiculous man to go steady with him? Was that still a thing people said? Going steady? Is that what he wanted? Was his crush that bad already? Should he go for it? Maybe he'd go for it...
The entire decision-making process Hermann was attempting to stumble through took an inordinately long 15 seconds, so long that by the time he snapped back to reality with a half-formed idea for a flirtatious reply that he would undoubtedly later be glad he didn't have the chance to embarrass himself with, Newton had already moved on, handing him the rubber mallet for the game and rambling about.....what subject had he reached now? Atomic theory? How on EARTH had he talked his way to that point. Hermann wished he hadn't missed a second of it, and then wished he hadn't had such a ridiculously sentimental thought because it was surely messing with his facial expression. Dr. Geiszler's face seemed to support that notion, staring at him appraisingly and... No longer talking. Oh, wait, had he asked a question?
"Alright, I'll repeat myself: Well Gottlieb, are you gonna hit it or what? -"
MIND OUT OF THE PROVERBIAL GUTTER, GOTTLIEB. GOOD GOD MAN.
"- By the way, do you mind if I call you Hermann dude? I've attended, like, SO many of your public lectures and have a whole shelf in my office dedicated to your ridiculously descriptive dissertations, so it almost feels weird not to. But don't worry. The REALLY great nicknames don't come until after the first date..."
Hermann was.... Malfunctioning.
"....Nothing dude? Just gonna stand there? Well it's not gonna win you the game, now hit the spring with the damn mallet for gods sake, so I can be suitably impressed with your sexy display of masculinity and we can move on from there."
Hermann really had no choice at this point but to muster up some focus, swing the mallet, and hope for the best.
Misguidedly, apparently, because:
"HOLY SHIT MAN. HOOOOLY SHIT. That wasn't even HALF WAY. That's fuckin hilarious! I can't believe this!"
Newton was doubled over laughing, clutching at Hermann's forearm for support, looking for all the world like he was about to wet himself. It would've have mattered even if he had, he'd still end up the less humiliated one in the situation.
"GOD dude, you're skinny but I thought for sure you'd have it! I miscalculated WILDLY with that one. Oh man, if I'd made that kind of error in the lab I'd be out a job! SHIT that's rich Herms"
Hermann - meanwhile - was absolutely desperate to sink into the ground and die. How had this happened. This was the sort of thing that wouldn't be out of place in a nightmare. He was absolutely mortified, so much so that the informal nickname that had just been applied to him barely registered in his mind. He had no memory of being this embarrassed in his entire life, and he had spent all of grade school in a painfully squeaky knee brace. He wanted to scream and make excuses and - oddly enough - apologise for wasting Newton's time. As if the man had anything better to do at the moment.
Instead what came out was: "A rigged machine is not fair play for a school-focused event. I'm afraid I'll have to write a report for this."
He moved to storm off haughtily in an attempt to regain some small portion of his lost pride, but Geiszler still had a grip on his forearm and pulled him even closer than he had been before.
"Dude, calm down! It's not a big deal. Don't be embarrassed, I've seen worse attempts today. One by a rowing team member, actually, which doesn't bode well for us this season now that I think about it. But it's really not all that bad. And besides, aren't YOU a staff sponsor for the club? I'm just a lowly volunteer, that'd reflect WAY worse on you man. Plus then you'd have to write a description of the event - probably with way too much detail, knowing you - and you'd have to read it to a disciplinary council, and... OH SHIT that's funny. Please do it."
Newton at this point had dissolved once again into laughter, although this time he managed to stay upright, which gave Hermann a view of how his nose scrunched up and he leaned back into the laugh and Hermann definitely didn't care about any of that, but if he HAD it might've made his heart flutter a bit.
"Yes, Dr Geiszler, about that. Why exactly ARE you here volunteering for the astrophysics organisation? You're a biologist, are you not?"
"No need to sneer at the concept of biology Herms, it's vital to our existence and - more importantly - our sex lives-"
OUR sex lives. What on earth was he on about.
"- but besides man, a guy can have side passions. Like just cause I'm mostly for dudes doesn't mean I don't enjoy ladies sometimes too. Emphasis on the mostly for men bit though. Also, I just so happen to have a PhD in theoretical astrophysics with an emphasis on quantum mechanics, so don't just assume. Cause you know what happens when you assume..."
"You WHAT?"
"You haven't heard that one? When you assume you make an ass out of you and me. Get it? Cause it's spelled-"
"I don't give a damn, I'm asking about your PhD. Why on earth are you a professor of biology when you'd clearly make an excellent addition to my department"
"Well well well, Hermann. I didn't expect a proposal so early in the game, but if you insist-"
Hermann sneered through his seemingly-permanent blush and powered on.
"Don't be ridiculous, my line of questioning was perfectly reasonable. What are you doing in the biology department?"
"It's ok man, I was just yanking your chain-"
PROVERBIAL GUTTER, GOTTLIEB
"- I prefer my PhD in biology over the others, so that's the one I choose to focus my time on. Pretty simple"
The others. He said the others. Implying that he had more than the two. Hermann felt a very disturbing mix of threatened and impressed and a bit turned on, in all honesty.
"But dude," Newton continued on without pause, "that's not the point here. I've now gotta dedicate as much time as is necessary to getting you to make it to the bell. It's gonna bug me if I don't, and you'll probably stew over it for months"
"Months? I will not stew over it for months. I see absolutely no need to give any thought at all to my physical abilities in my line of work, and the very idea that this carnival game has any bearing over my manhood is preposterous"
"Yes yes, preposterous my good sir. Simply unreasonable, I do say" Newton interjected with an overblown accent.
"Oh dear lord Newton, do not try to mimic my voice, you'll only embarrass yourself"
A few curious students slowed down to eavesdrop on the obviously ridiculous argument taking place, only to receive matched his-and-his withering glares from both professors simultaneously.
"My accent was impeccable and you know it, but that's neither here nor there, because I won't be able to take anything you say seriously until you can beat this game and I can get the look on your face when you tried last time out of my head. It was like a kicked puppy. Or maybe a turtle. But in like... A cute way"
Hermann decided to be the more mature one and simply grab the mallet to take another swing. Before he could, though, Newton had snatched it out of his grasp in a blur of colour (thanks to those ridiculous tattoos).
"Newton what on earth..."
"Nah man, I gave you your first token on the house, but the next one is gonna cost you"
"That's utterly ridiculous, I'm a professor, and there's hardly a line"
"Regardless, the whole point of this is to raise money. If you don't pay you don't play. And since you're a faculty advisor for the club that's like stealing from yourself, which is just stupid. So pay up"
"This whole endeavour is simply not worth my time, but it's not as if this thing costs anything to run. It's all manual mechanics. Which means there's nothing to compensate if I play again. It remains costless to run whether or not there is a force acting on it -"
"- yes I know Hermann, and entropy is inevitable, and the universe is flying away from us at incredible speeds, and everything is meaningless and we'll all die someday. Now give me my damn money and I'll give you a token"
Hermann glared and bought five.
The first attempt was a no-go right from the start, and the marker barely left the ground. Newton, surprisingly, didn't mock him for this, he just reset the machine and let him try again.
The second was better, and got halfway there. Newt gave him some tips on grip that he picked up from his baseball years, and they put their brains together, working in harmony for only a brief moment to try to figure out the sweet spot on both the mallet and the spring.
The third go was impressive, and the fourth was - at last - a success.
"By Jove my good man, you've cracked it!" Newton cried in his ridiculous attempt at an accent the second the bell went off. He ran excitedly to the back of the booth and unhooked the dreadful looking plush cow he had threatened Hermann with earlier.
"Really Herms, I'm so proud, and I'm incredibly excited to take this guy home, I've had my eye on him for-"
Hermann's euphoria - which he was hiding terribly - over his success was cut abruptly short. "Excuse me?! YOU, take it home? I've earned it, what logic could you possibly employ to suggest that it's yours..."
Newton winked and moved closer, the cow hugged to his chest with its eyes glinting at Hermann awfully knowingly
"C’mon Herms. The point of these things is that you show off your manliness so you can win a prize for your date. You're the manly one, which means I'm the date, and I get to take him home. What should I name him? I'm thinking.... BB Burn... Thoughts?"
Hermann, for his part, was unable to do more than splutter, and he felt his blush run all the way to his nose and light up his face like a goddamned lovesick Christmas tree.
What on EARTH could Newton mean by that? Was it just a ploy to get a stuffed animal? The man was childish, but certainly he realized he could easily go out and buy one on his own. The idea that this was a date.... And he had called Hermann manly. The blush deepened.
Oh dear lord.
Newton, meanwhile, just sat patiently and waited for Hermann to think the whole thing through, still holding the ridiculous cow.
Hermann finally resolved that he ought to say something, although he had no idea what.
"N-.... I, um....."
Newton took pity on him and cut him short with a quick flick of his wrist to look at his watch.
"Aaaaaaaaand that's my shift. I'm done here. So, what do you say you, BB Burns, and I all head over to the Whip-It? It's that ride that spins you around really fast and makes your stomach feel weird and tingly, or -"
Hermann, at a loss for words, but filled with a resolve he didn't quite know the source for and more than slightly having a well-timed out-of-body experience, darted forward and pulled him into a kiss, melting into his lips and carding his fingers into his hair.
His very very soft hair. Oh god, the warmth of their proximity ought to be a problem in the summer heat and yet it seemed to be the opposite, heating up a part of Hermann’s core that he previously had no idea even existed.
This was a terrible move. A giant mistake. A ball of panic began to coil in his chest, and then…
Newton reacted - finally - seeming slightly surprised, and dropped the horrendous cow, instead occupying his hands by fisting them into the material of that damned sweater vest, his fingers slipping into the holes in the crotchet and anchoring him there. Hermann thought – rather illogically – that they couldn’t possibly be separated now no matter what force were to act on them.
When they at last did pull apart, however, Newton for once had nothing to say. They stared at each other, out of breath and nervous in the best possible way, still holding each other ridiculously close and ignoring the small group of curious students who seemed to think they were being at all subtle with their spying from across the boardwalk.
Newton, finally, seemed to get ahold of his own head, and was able at last to chime in.
“Or, y’know, we could just head straight back to my place”
“Yes Newton, if that was anything to go on I rather think I won’t need a ridiculously named ride to make my stomach go wonky”
The other man elbowed him with a grin before reaching for his hand.
“I told you, call me Newt.”