Chapter Text
May 15th to January 15th - Newton Geiszler
Newt spends May 15th and 16th doing laundry and packing. He plays music loudly and sings along enthusiastically as he folds a relentless quantity of skinny jeans. He realizes he has an absurd amount of clothes, most of which he never wears. Much of it he leaves behind. He mainly packs t-shirts and pants, almost forgets to pack underwear, and remembers the night before leaving that it won’t always be hot and he should probably bring more than just t-shirts. He’s going through his closet when he finds a dark blue knit sweater balled up on the floor. It’s shapeless, color faded, clearly years old, too big, probably bought second hand from Goodwill or some other second hand shop. For a brief second he wonders why the fuck he would buy this ugly sweater - and then he sees clearly Hermann tugging at the hem, hanging baggily over his skinny frame, telling him in offended terms that it’s warm, Newton, and he doesn’t really think it’s that ugly, and he wishes Newt would stop judging his clothes, he doesn’t always like Newt’s clothes either and you don’t hear him going on about it-
Newt sits on the floor of his closet, gripping the fabric, soft and worn, in his hands. It smells faintly like cheap laundry detergent and coffee. Then he stands up decisively, smacks his head on a shelf, swears loudly, and then walks out into his kitchen, still holding the sweater. He grabs a certain mug off of a shelf, wraps it in the sweater, and then shoves the bundle into the deepest corner of his closet. He returns to packing.
He’s too excited to sleep that night. It has nothing to do with how weird it feels to sleep without bony elbows and knees jabbing into him.
May 17th, Tendo drives him to the airport and spends the whole drive calling him increasingly inventive names. They all essentially add up to, “You dumb fuck.” He hadn’t expected Tendo to be this angry - well, actually, he hadn’t thought at all about what Tendo’s reaction might be. He makes the mistake of mentioning this when Tendo starts to slow down in his cursing, about halfway to the airport, and Tendo shouts, “That’s because you don’t think! Ever! You dumb fucker!” and resumes abusing him.
Newt tunes him out and stares at the landscape rushing by. Tendo really does drive at a terrifying pace, he thinks, then wonders who said that to him. He remembers, and curses silently. Stop thinking about him, he tells himself furiously.
He really wishes Tendo would lay off. He’s going to Germany, he wants to be excited, but Tendo is seriously bringing him down. This is why he was avoiding telling him. But Tendo has the uncanny ability to find anything out, so Newt probably would have been better off letting him know from the start. On the other hand, maybe it just would have meant three days of being shouted at, instead of only today.
They reach the airport at last, and Tendo, still muttering insults under his breath, helps him drag his luggage and guitar over to the luggage checking area. Tendo waits grumpily as Newt fiercely warns the airport people to be fucking careful with his guitar. When Newt is done shooting them dangerous looks, he rejoins Tendo.
“’Kay, well, guess this is good-bye.”
“Bye Newt. Have fun in Germany. I would say don’t do anything stupid, but you’ve already done pretty much the stupidest thing you could, so I don’t think there’s much point-“
“Oh come on Tendo, let it go. I was just doing what I thought was best, okay, I’ve already explained myself to you! Can’t you be supportive?”
Tendo scowls furiously, and shakes his head. “I just think you’re making a really shitty decision-“
“Yeah, you’ve made that super fucking clear!” Newt snaps. Passersby look at them, and he glares at an old lady that is looking at him as disapprovingly as Tendo is.
Tendo throws his hands up in the air in frustration. Then, his expression changing, he leans in closer to Newt and says in a quiet, intense voice, “Look, the whole going to Germany thing and becoming a rock star, that’s fine, I have no problem with that. But breaking up with Hermann, I think it’s a mistake, Newt, and you’re gonna regret it-“ Newt tries to interrupt him, but Tendo talks over him. “-Yeah, I know I’ve said that already, so I’ll just say this - if you went to Striker Eureka right now, if you ran in there and fell at Hermann’s feet and told him that you’re an idiot and that you made a mistake and you love him and all that dumb rom com stuff - I think Hermann would still forgive you. He’d be pissed, but he’d forgive you. But I can’t say the same about three, four months from now! He won’t wait forever! I’d drive you back Newt, so just fucking do that!”
Newt stares back at Tendo, at his intent face, waiting for Newt to answer. He could do that, he knows he could. If he begs Hermann, he might be forgiven. This will just become a stupid blip in their relationship.
He drops his gaze to the ground. “If I did that, I’d miss my flight,” he says flatly.
He can hear Tendo sigh.
“Good bye, Tendo.”
“Bye Newt. Have fun being a rock star. If you don’t call me, I’m gonna fly across the Atlantic and kick your ass.”
“I’ll call.”
May 20th he goes with Erik and Lucia - their drummer, who also doubles as an elementary student teacher - to watch Erik’s friend’s band practice. The lead singer, Nik, is tall and has dark blue eyes and a crooked smile. He’s also really fucking good.
“Erik, you didn’t say they were good.”
“Oh. Well, they’re good.”
“Jesus, Erik, how are we supposed to follow this guy?”
“Um…”
They fall silent and all watch Nik sway on stage, gyrating against the microphone stand. He’s wearing a tank top, and his muscles move as he grips the microphone.
“I’m totally gonna fuck that guy,” Lucia mutters dreamily.
“Me too,” Newt agrees.
“I already did,” Erik confesses.
The singer smirks at an imaginary crowd, whom Newt is assuming also wants to fuck him.
Five days later Newt tries to go grocery shopping and gets hopelessly lost. He doesn’t mind at first - Berlin is a fascinating city, and he wanders around the maze of streets with wide eyes. He’s been here before, of course. His mother was living here when he was born, and his first few years of life were spent in this city as well as several childhood vacations, but that doesn’t translate to being familiar with the city. Still, every few blocks, he encounters a shop or monument that has a small, sunlit jolt of nostalgia to it, a certainty that he’s been there before.
But it’s a crowded day, and he gets hot and sweaty from walking. Eventually he decides he's tired of roaming aimlessly. He stops at a Starbucks and orders an iced drink. It’s stupidly expensive, and as he sits and sips at it in the iced store, he thinks that it’s not even that good. Herm’s coffee is way better. He’ll have to tell him that-
It hits him solidly in the chest. He won’t tell Hermann that. He won’t tell him anything, because Hermann is halfway across the world and Newt dumped him. The images that Newt has been blocking out the last ten days comes crowding into his mind - primarily Hermann sitting on that bench, his face white and uncomprehending, the sound of him saying “What?” as if all the color had been leached from the world, and how Newt’s legs had shaken with the desire run away from the shock and dawning pain that he could see; and there’s also the contrast between that hurt face and how Hermann had looked when Newt had first arrived at the bench, so beautiful sitting there in the sun, posture as neat as always but with something in it that reminded Newt of a cat in a sunbeam, and Newt had felt like such shit knowing what he was about to say that he had nearly been unable to go up to him; and he remembers too the first time he saw Hermann there, back when he’d just been Gottlieb, and Newt hadn’t known how to make him smile yet, but Hermann had shivered in the autumn air and called him Newton and spoken in German and even back then Newt had liked the way he rolled the letter ‘r’ but now he might never hear that again and it’s all his fault -
“Sir? Are you…okay?”
Newt looks up with a start from staring into the cloudy depths of his drink. “What? Yeah,” he says blankly, and only when his voice comes out hoarse does he realize he’s crying. “Um, sorry, allergies,” he mumbles, swiping at his eyes. The barista looks politely unbelieving, but all she does is nod, hands him a napkin, and back off. Newt drags it across his face - it comes away drenched - and then slams the rest of his icy drink. The brain freeze kills all thought for a solid minute, and when it goes so do the images of Hermann.
He vows to not do things that will make him think of Hermann anymore. It takes him another week or so to realize how impossible that is.
The next night they perform for the first time and Newt is certain it’s all worth it. The whole time he’s on stage, all he thinks of is the music, the crowd, the high. He rides the thrill of it all night, certain that this is what life is for. When Nik’s band gets off stage, Nik smiles at him once and Newt smirks back, knowing for certain what is coming next. They crowd into a stall in the bathroom and Newt blows him right there.
The day after that, he realizes that that’s the first time he’s kissed anyone other than Hermann since October. He feels like shit, but he tries to convince himself that it’s just due to the hangover.
A week or so later, Nik pulls him aside and tries to let him down easy - he has a whole ‘not looking for a relationship right now’ speech prepared - and Newt can’t hold back a startled laugh.
“Dude, me neither,” he assures the guy. “You’re just hot and I wanted to fuck you, that’s literally all.”
He thinks the singer is a little thrown off to realize that Newt isn’t madly in love with him. Like he would fall in love with a guy like that. He’s not that stupid.
June 5th the Black Velvet Rabbits all get tattoos together. They’re roaming the city when they pass a tattoo parlor and Newt, slightly high, declares that they need to remember this band forever. He convinces all of them, even Marie, the keyboardist, who is Canadian and more reserved than the others, to get “The Black Velvet Rabbits” tattooed on a body part of their choosing. Newt has plans for his arms and chest, so he has the tattoo artist wrap it around his ankle. It looks fucking good. He barely feels the sting of the needle. But that might be due to the weed.
Erik gets it on his forearm, Lucia gets it on her back while Marie watches with huge eyes - I knew it! Newt thinks, although he had known no such thing - and Marie gets it across her ribs. Newt is sure that’s supposed to be more painful than other locations, but Marie doesn’t even flinch. “Hardcore,” Lucia murmurs admiringly, and Marie smiles at her. Erik looks puzzled and Newt smirks knowingly.
June 8th Tendo calls him and yells at him for not having called him once. Tendo doesn’t mention Hermann a single time, and Newt is both grateful and furious. He’s dying to know everything. He spends the whole call trying to figure out how to subtly ask what Hermann is doing, but can’t think of how to do it. Finally, toward the end of the call, he gives in and blurts out, “Would you tell me if Hermann was dating someone else?”
Tendo pauses, then says cheerily, “Nope.” Then he hangs up.
Bastard. Smarmy bowtie-wearing bastard.
Newt spends all of June 9th in his tiny, shitty, hot-as-fuck apartment, lying sprawled on the floor and feeling like the worst person in the world. He wishes he could forget that it was Hermann’s birthday, but he simply can’t. It’s like every neuron in his brain is screaming that piece of information at him. Plus, he forgot to remove that from the calendar on his phone, so that’s another reminder.
He keeps hearing Hermann saying, “Birthdays are perfectly arbitrary celebrations, Newton, and I simply don’t see the importance of it.” He had that way of saying things, so annoyingly superior and self-assured, as if there was no possibility of him being wrong and Newt was ridiculous to ever doubt him. How does a single person have that much certainty in themselves? Newt found it kind of annoying at the time, but now it just seems cute. Endearing. The way he said Newton like that…god, that was so fucking cute. It drives Newt mad to be called by his first name, but honestly, it wasn’t so bad from Hermann. He sorta liked it, just the tiniest bit, secretly, back in the corner of his head.
And then, try as he might to stop it, his mind insists on replaying the rest of that particular conversation, and every time he remembers what he said in response he curls up like a dead, miserable spider that also presumably totally treated his really smart and gorgeous boyfriend like shit. That spider is such a jerk. No wonder someone stepped on him. His ex-spider boyfriend was probably really pleased and went off and found a much nicer and better looking and probably taller spider that wouldn’t say shit like that and then fuck off to Germany and fail to keep his promises.
“I’m still totally gonna celebrate your birthday. I’m gonna celebrate it so hard. Birthday cake and streamers and all that shit. I would have a surprise party, but I don’t think you have enough friends.”
That’s what he said. That is what Newton Even-More-Of-A-Jerk-Than-A-Dead-Spider Geiszler said. He fucking said that, and is he keeping that promise? No, he’s lying around in Germany and thinking weird thoughts about spiders.
God, he is the worst.
And which is worst, the thought that Hermann is spending his birthday all alone, probably working at Striker’s and then going back to his shitty apartment, not getting any presents or cake or streamers, maybe even forgetting about his birthday since apparently that’s the kind of person he is? Or is it worse if he has someone to spend it with, if there’s some tall asshole maybe taking him out to dinner and to the planetarium, Newt always meant to take him to a planetarium, and kissing him and saying Happy Birthday Herm in a voice that is probably really deep and sexy and not sorta shrill and weird? Is that worse? At least Hermann’s not alone like that-
Newt aggressively unrolls from his dead spider pose, jumps to his feet, and starts pacing the circumference of his apartment. Of course that’s worse! he thinks furiously. Hermann shouldn’t be kissing anyone other than Newt - but that’s so selfish to think, because it’s not like Newt has been totally chaste - but it’s not the same - but why not -
It’s really hot, and Newt collapses back to the floor, flinging all his limbs out and staring gloomily at the ceiling. I’m a really terrible person and Hermann deserves someone way better than me, he thinks darkly. He pulls out his phone, staring at the notification on the screen informing him that Herm’s birthday is today!!1! Dont forget u piece of shit!! He can’t bring himself to dismiss it. He contemplates sending Hermann a text or email saying Happy Birthday or maybe oh my god I love you so much I’m so sorry I suck so bad please forgive me fuck, and decides with a wrench that would be a bad idea. It’s not fair to Hermann, and besides, he really is having a lot of fun in Germany and probably will go back to thinking this was a good idea - was this a good idea? - once Hermann’s birthday is over.
And, “Birthdays are perfectly arbitrary celebrations, Newton…”
The whole cycle repeats itself, on and on throughout the hot day, and Newt thinks about how he never knew Hermann in the summer and does he like it better than winter? Shit, Hermann in a bathing suit, that would have been so great to see…
On and on until Newt falls asleep, well after midnight, curled up on the floor like a dead spider, tears drying on his face.
June 13th they go to a concert for one of Newt’s favorite bands. It’s brilliant. He returns to being convinced he did the right thing.
On June 20th, Erik says uncertainly, “Weren’t you guys kind of expecting that we’d have more fans by now? I mean, I was expecting that…it mostly seems like the fans are all for Nik’s band…”
“Dammit, Erik!” Marie shouts. They all flinch in surprise. Marie doesn’t shout much. She’s Canadian. “We’ve been purposely not talking about that, or did you not notice that?”
Erik clearly did not notice that. He looks at Newt nervously. Newt shakes his head.
“I’m sure things will pick up,” Lucia says. “We just need time.”
Marie looks at her witheringly. Newt wonders if things are going badly there.
Going on stage is still a mad high, but Newt does have to purposely not notice how unenthusiastic the audience is. Or, well, unenthusiastic might not be the word - just not as enthusiastic as he would have hoped. Not rock star enthusiastic.
They just need time.
Three days later he meets…well, he forgets her name almost immediately. But she has big eyes and blonde hair and she makes it pretty clear she’d like to fuck him. It’s been nearly a year since he’s been with a girl. Nice to know it still works the same.
But the next day, after she goes home, he feels like shit. It seems weirdly like cheating on Hermann, which is stupid because he broke up with Hermann, partially for this exact reason. It’s not cheating. It’s been a whole month, so why wouldn’t he fuck someone else? Hermann is also probably fucking other people; in fact, Newt hopes he’s found some girl - well, if it’s Hermann, some guy - with big eyes and blonde hair who is willing to put out-
His thoughts derail there. He imagines Hermann kissing someone else, and then his vision goes sort of white and splotchy and his hands clench into fists. No. No, no one else is allowed to kiss Hermann, only him, Hermann is his. And he doesn’t care how unreasonable and unfair that is, he doesn’t give a fuck, because Hermann is his and he shouldn’t kiss anyone else.
His vision clears slowly, and he reminds himself that he should care how unreasonable that is. He should want Hermann to be happy - no, he decides abruptly, he shouldn’t want anything for Hermann, he shouldn’t even think about Hermann! Hermann isn’t his to worry about anymore. He’s supposed to be free from that shit. That was the whole point of that awful bench event thing that he’s trying to not think about (god Hermann looked so betrayed-)
He firmly decides to not think about Hermann anymore. This lasts for about a week.
A week later he sees a book in a store about stars and space and all that shit Hermann likes. Before he can stop himself he thinks of how much Hermann would like this book, how he would stand in the aisle of the book store, bent over it, leafing through the pages dreamily, and then he’d close the cover and pretend he didn’t want it. Hermann spends way too much time in book stores pretending he doesn’t want books. Then Newt thinks DAMMIT loudly until the thoughts of Hermann go away.
It hardly hurts though, this time, to think of Hermann, and Newt thinks hopefully that he’s getting over him. That wasn’t so bad, he tells himself proudly. He resolves again to not think of Hermann. His resolution holds longer this time.
Then it’s July. He spends most of July performing and partying and successfully not thinking about Hermann. He doesn’t sleep around as much as he would have expected of himself. It’s fine when it’s happening, when he’s kissing whatever beautiful people he can get his hands on, when he’s touching and laughing and taking off clothes, it’s all great then, he loves kissing and sex, it’s not the anonymous sex that’s the problem. It’s afterwards, because after, just like with Nik and that blond girl, he feels vaguely guilty and wrong. He doesn’t let himself think of why he feels like that, but he does, so for the most part he doesn’t go beyond dancing and kissing.
July 4th he and his bandmates - even Marie, who is Canadian - set up a picnic of American foods, dress up in red, white, and blue - Marie neglects blue - and go to a local park to eat and loudly be American. They all feel homesick by this point. Newt misses American food and American beer and American television. He misses speaking in English all day. He misses his apartment. He even kind of misses school. Being a rock star isn’t always that intellectually stimulating.
It doesn’t occur to him until the next day that in the midst of thinking of things he misses, he doesn’t think about Hermann. He feels proud of himself until he realizes that thinking of not missing Hermann has made him miss him.
July 10th he discovers that Ecstasy is bad.
July 18th his mom shows up out of nowhere. He’s not even entirely certain how she knows his Berlin address, because he’s sure he never told her it. But she behaves herself, so he doesn’t mind too much. She takes him out to dinner and makes him tell her all about what he’s been up to, and he appreciates that. Mostly for the food, but also for the attention.
Halfway through dinner she frowns and interrupts him to ask, “Whatever happened to that young man you were dating? The skinny boy, the one that spoke German?”
Newt frowns down at his half-empty plate. “We broke up,” he mutters.
“Oh,” Monica murmurs. “I see. That’s a shame, I rather liked him.”
Newt jerks his head up. “What are you talking about?” he asks, annoyed. “You met him for like five seconds, and in that five seconds you insulted him and made it clear you disapproved of him - hell, you disapprove of everyone I like!”
“That’s not true,” she protests. “And I just want to make sure you find someone good enough for you.”
Newt rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
“It’s important you find someone that can handle you, dear,” she continues. “Otherwise it will never work out!”
“Come on, Mom…”
“You’re like me-“
“I am not-“
“And not everyone can handle individuals like us-“
“I’m not like you-“
“Look at your father and I, he couldn’t handle me, and that certainly didn’t work out-“
“That didn’t work out because you were both married to other people and also because you’re crazy-“
“I simply thought that boy seemed like someone that could handle you, but if that’s not the case then it’s good for you to find someone who can deal with you better-”
“Hermann could deal with me just fine!” Newt snaps, then becomes aware of what he said and falls silent. Monica looks at him with far too much sympathy. “Maybe I don’t want to be handled,” he mumbles angrily.
His mother pats his hand, and doesn’t push the conversation any further. Newt tells himself that if Monica approves of Hermann then that is just further proof that ending things with him was a good idea.
But it is undeniably true that in all of his relationships, things tended to go badly due to the other person finding Newt - what was the word Amy used? - overwhelming. And Hermann never seemed to find him overwhelming. Hermann could deal with him, and will he really be able to find someone else that can?
One, he tells himself, course you will. You’re awesome. You’ll be fine. Two, I don’t want to be handled. And three, I don’t really want relationship anyway.
Six days later Lucia is the one to bring up that The Black Velvet Rabbits are still not doing real great in terms of popularity. Marie shoots her a scathing glance and storms out of the room. Lucia runs after her.
“So…are they like…a couple?” Erik asks.
Newt looks at him disbelievingly. “You’re kind of a dumbass, Erik,” he remarks, and goes home.
July 29th, he spends the day at the zoo with a hot artist he only met the day before. They make out in the reptile house until Newt notices the zookeepers feeding the boa constrictors and abandons his date for that. His date is gone by the time the feeding is over, but that’s okay because the boa feeder is also really hot and Newt ends up spending the rest of the day with her, talking eagerly about reptiles. He goes home with her. The sex is good, but when she invites him to stay over the night he declines. Sleeping in bed with other people really weirds him out these days.
He tries to not be relieved that there are no axolotls at that zoo.
August 4th, Newt is surprised to realize that it’s August. Whatever happened to July? His return ticket is for August 29th. It’s odd to think that he’ll be back in California in less than a month. He thinks about going home, returning to school and his apartment, and something occurs to him. As soon as it does, he can’t believe he’s taken this long to think of it.
He’ll go home, he’ll resume life, everything normal, school, home, work, social life - except - no Hermann.
He’s astonished to discover that up until this point he’d never really realized that he ended things with Hermann. He knew it, he was aware of it, he thought he’d accepted it, he thought he was over it, but he never actually stopped to consider that he’d go home to a life without Hermann. He never understood it before.
Being here in Germany, that was one thing - of course Hermann wasn’t here. Even if he hadn’t broken up with Hermann, he wouldn’t be here. So of course the concept of normal life without Hermann hadn’t sunk in. But now, for the first time, he faces the idea of actually going about his daily life without Hermann waiting for him at the end of the day. No more texting him when he’s bored in class, no more terse responses telling him to pay attention to his teacher, no more popping into Striker Eureka, no more eating dinner together, no more falling asleep on Hermann’s bony shoulder, no more waking up next to him.
Newt, lying in bed still, stares up at the ceiling with wide eyes, shocked at how fucking miserable that sounds. How did he do that before, how did he used to live without Hermann? It sounds so - so boring! And...lonely.
Newt pushes his hands through his hair and fills the air with muttered curse words.
“Dumb fucker” is the one he repeats the most.
So what the fuck is he supposed to do?
The next three days are filled with him anxiously thinking about this. Dread for returning to an empty apartment is interrupted only by increasingly unappreciated performances. If anything, they’ve gotten less popular. He still enjoys performing, but it’s kind of depressing when no one seems to be listening.
Should he just…try to win Hermann back? Walk into Striker’s, fall to his knees, and apologize, like Tendo suggested all those months ago?
There’s a few problems with that, he’s sure. For one thing, he kinda doubts Hermann will forgive him. Hermann is one to hold grudges, he knows that by now. For another thing…has anything really changed? The main reason he broke up with Hermann was that he didn’t want to settle down. Is that any different now?
That’s the question that keeps him uncertain for those three days. He’s still young, he’s still restless, he still doesn’t want to settle. He’s worrying over this when the question phrases itself in a different way in his mind. So he doesn’t want to settle…would it really be settling if it was Hermann?
If it was Hermann…it wouldn’t just be taking second best because it was there. Newt was sure you’d have to be an idiot to think that Hermann was second best in anything. Hermann was…fuck. Brilliant. Really hot. Never boring.
And if it was Hermann, it wasn’t like they’d retire out to the countryside, have 2.5 kids, a dog, a cat, and never do anything again with their lives. Hermann would be just as unhappy with that as Newt. No, if it was Hermann, they’d go on adventures, they’d always get into crazy stuff, because Hermann is just as curious about the world as Newt. Maybe not in the same way, but he too would be bored with just sitting around.
And…if it was Hermann…even that other stuff. Growing old together. Buying a house. Staying in one place once they got older. If it was Hermann, that stuff really wouldn’t be so bad. Waking up next to anyone else, as he's discovered, sucks, but it would be nice to wake up next to Hermann every day. He looks so cute when he sleeps. And home would really feel like home if he knew that Hermann would be there. He’d have a reason to look forward to going home at the end of the day if it meant seeing Hermann again. Newt really can’t think of anyone else he would rather do this stuff with; he can’t even imagine doing it with anyone other than Hermann.
So, no, he doesn’t want to settle down yet. But also, no, it wouldn’t be settling down if it was Hermann. It would just be…living. With someone that he loves.
Fuck, he thinks suddenly. Oh fuck, I still love him so much. Fuck. How is that possible? Fuck. Fuck I miss him. FUCK.
So by August 8th, his mind is made up. He knows what he wants, and what he wants is Hermann.
Now to figure out what to say to stop Hermann from trying to murder him.
August 10th he wakes up from unsettling dreams that he can’t quite remember. Something about- as soon as he reaches for it, it slips away. But he knows the dreams were unpleasant. They follow him all day, hanging ominously about his shoulders.
August 15th he tries calling Tendo, making sure to call him at a time that’s about midday for him. His friend sounds kind of odd when he answers the phone, weary and unhappy, but Newt doesn’t think anything of it. He means to broach it naturally, but it has been on his mind for days now, so he bursts out nearly immediately with a question about Hermann.
“Tendo, do you think that Hermann-“
Tendo barely lets him even get the words out before he starts shouting. “You really are the most self-involved ass, aren’t you!” Tendo roars into the phone.
Newt jerks the phone away from his ear, shocked at this unexpected outburst. “What-“
“Do you know that at this very second-“ Tendo falls abruptly silent.
“What?”
“Ugh, no, no, never mind. I just-“
“Tendo, what the-“
“I just can’t fucking deal with you right now, Newt,” Tendo snaps. “I’ll- I’ll talk to you later, okay. Bye.”
“Wait-“ Newt gasps, but Tendo has already hung up. “What the fuck?” Newt mutters, staring at the phone. “The hell was that?”
He tries calling Tendo back, but Tendo doesn’t answer.
August 20th they do their last show. It goes well. Not awesome, but not badly either. Newt enjoys the high one last time. He’s not as sad as he would have expected to get off the stage. He thinks he’s ready to be done being a rock star - not forever, of course, but he’s good for now. Now, he wants to figure out how to get Hermann to love him again.
August 22nd he gets his second tattoo.
August 29th he flies home. He’s crazy jet lagged for a few days. He uses the time to plot how to win Hermann back.
September 1st he goes to Striker Eureka and…Hermann isn’t there. Not only is he not there, but there’s someone else working behind the counter, a tall, blonde teenager that is maybe the tiniest bit familiar. He stares at the kid through the glass with narrowed eyes, then, frowning darkly, walks away.
He tries Hermann’s apartment next. If he’s not at work - but who the fuck was that kid? - then chances are he’s at home. Newt pushes the buzzer for Hermann’s apartment. There’s no response, so he tries pushing it again in the hope that Hermann didn’t hear. Maybe he’s sleeping? But it’s around eleven in the morning; Hermann would never still be asleep at this time.
He looks thoughtfully up at Hermann’s window, and for a second he thinks he sees a flash of movement. He waits hopefully but it doesn’t reappear. He cranes his neck back, trying to get a better view. “Hermann?” he tries calling out, and then again, louder. There’s no response, but Newt feels increasingly sure that someone’s there. He pushes the buzzer again out of frustration, and keeps his eyes glued on the window, hoping desperately to see the familiar sight of Hermann sticking his head out of that window.
Newt stands uncertainly in front of the door a few minutes longer, and then admits to himself that even if Hermann is home, he’s not letting Newt in. “Dammit,” he mutters to himself. He should have known it wouldn’t be this easy. Nothing is easy with Hermann. “I’m not giving up that easily,” he informs the door. “I’ll be back.”
The next day he sees Tendo for the first time since he’s returned from Germany. They haven’t talked since that weird as fuck phone call. Newt thinks Tendo’s smile is a little forced.
“So…are you gonna explain what was up with that phone call?” Newt asks after the greetings are over.
“Um…no. No, I’m not,” Tendo says.
Newt stares at him. “You know that was really weird, right? I still don’t know why you yelled at me. If I did something wrong, you should tell me-“
“It’s not exactly that you did something wrong,” Tendo says hastily. “It’s just -“ he shakes his head. “I really can’t explain it. I’ll just say that I was upset that day, and I took it out on you. Don’t...um. It’s not…” he seems to be unable to find the proper words, which is extremely rare for Tendo. Eventually he shakes his head and gives up. “I am glad that you’re back, Newt,” he says instead.
“Yeah, I’m glad to be back…” Newt responds, watching Tendo thoughtfully. He sucks on his lip a second, then hesitantly adds, “I tried to talk to Hermann the other day…”
Tendo lifts his eyebrows, but doesn’t say a word.
“Couldn’t find him,” Newt concludes. “Do you know if he’s avoiding me?”
Tendo shakes his head again. “Not saying a word about it,” he insists firmly. “I am Star Fleet. Prime Directive. No interference.”
“Oh, come on,” Newt begs, but Tendo is as unmovable as Star Fleet usually isn’t in TOS. Newt does his best to do the sparkly, dreamy Captain Kirk eyes, since that always seemed to work for him in revoking the Prime Directive, but Tendo refuses to say a word about Hermann.
September 3, school starts again. Newt hopes to see Hermann on campus, but although he keeps his eyes open and walks near the buildings where the physics classes are held more than is strictly necessary, he doesn’t see even a trace of him. Once in a while he thinks he sees him in the distance or out of the corner of his eyes, but it always turns out to be someone else. He wonders irritably how many skinny white boys there can be at one school. A lot, it turns out.
In the next few weeks, Newt makes sure to walk past Striker’s at least once a day, but Hermann is never working there - it’s always either Herc or that blonde boy. When it’s Herc, he makes sure to walk by quickly with his head down. It’s not that he’s scared of Herc - it’s just that Herc is tall and fit and ex-military and seems pretty fond of Hermann, and okay also he’s a little scared of Herc. He doesn’t dare to go into the store. He lives in fear of running into Chuck, because he’s pretty sure the kid would attempt to murder Newt on sight. Newt hurt Hermann. That’s bound to be utterly unacceptable from Chuck’s perspective.
He also goes back to Hermann’s apartment a few times, but the visits are just as unsuccessful as all his other attempts. He texts Hermann, he even calls him twice despite Hermann’s disdain for phone calls, he emails him, he fucking mails him a letter, but nothing. Eventually he stops, because he’s afraid of seeming like a stalker.
October 1st, he’s forced to admit that Hermann…Hermann doesn’t want to see him. He knows it’s what he deserves, he knows that he’s the one that ended things, but the knowledge still drives sharply into him, not so much a sliver as a fucking broadsword into his heart. Hermann doesn’t want to see him. Hermann is so angry or so upset or maybe just so done with him that he won’t even talk. Newt finds himself resuming dead spider pose on his apartment floor. This time last year, he had just met Hermann. He wasn’t Hermann then, he was just Rude Coffee Guy.
“This is so dumb,” Newt whispers into his knees. He’s curled up on the floor crying over Rude Coffee Guy. He remembers the way Hermann used to say, “Oh, it’s you,” every time he walked into the store, how he would try to sound so disdainful when he said it, but half the time he would be smiling, a tiny little smile that you could only see in the way the skin crinkled around his eyes. Newt sniffles. Fuck, he misses him so bad.
“You fucked up,” he tells his knees. “You fucked up so bad, and you totally ruined one of the best things you had going on, and now you’ll never get to hear Herm say 'Oh, it’s you,' ever again. You fucking dumbass,” and the last part gets lost as more tears push their way free and he presses his face into his knees. “You dumb fucker.”
October 15th he resolves that it’s time to start trying to get over Hermann. He’s now spent nearly as much time being broken up with Hermann as being with him. It’s silly to be this upset over him still, he tells himself. Admittedly, he only really accepted that it was completely over about half a month ago, but either way, things have been done for months. He thinks it’s kind of weird that he’s the one that ended it and yet he’s still this hung up over it. Hermann is probably over it by now.
He still thinks it’s a little odd he hasn’t seen him around campus. And Tendo still refuses to talk about him at all. And seriously, who is that kid that’s working at Striker’s now? The world may never know, he muses.
November 12th he goes on a date with a girl named Mariposa, which he’s pretty sure means butterfly and is probably not her real name. She’s nice enough, and she has pretty hair and symmetrical breasts and a butterfly tattoo on her lower back, but she doesn’t like Lord of the Rings, and she’s never even heard of the Drake Equation, let alone has a strong opinion of it. When Newt tries to explain it to her - not very well, he thinks later - she looks puzzled and tentatively offers that she doesn’t believe in aliens.
At the end of the date, Newt says “I had a nice time,” and nothing else. He doesn’t lean in to kiss her. She looks relieved.
“Doesn’t believe in aliens,” he mutters scathingly as he walks back to his car. “Who the fuck doesn’t believe in aliens? How can you not believe in aliens?”
He tries, really really hard, he really fucking tries to not think it but - Hermann believes in aliens. Hermann was personally outraged by the Drake formula and would passionately explain to anyone willing to listen why it was a load of bullshit. Newt had never even heard of it until Hermann, but he certainly found it interesting, and not just because he liked the way Hermann used pretentious metaphors when he tried to explain math. Although he did find that hilarious and adorable. Dammit, stop thinking about him.
December 1st he starts getting his arms tattooed. He has a whole elaborate plan for them - it's gonna be fucking awesome. He actually attempted to draw the design himself, but he's sort of kind of totally awful at art. Marie, on the other hand, is not, so he described it to her one night in Germany and she drew it out for him.
It's kaiju, of course. His very own kaiju, that he made up all on his own. Not just appearance, he actually spent a fair amount of time considering how the biology of it would work. This has been a project of his for years. He takes a certain amount of pleasure in thinking that Hermann would disapprove of it horribly. He never really understood Newt's fascination with kaiju, and he made it clear he didn't like tattoos. It's nice to remind himself that there are benefits in being single, like not having to worry what others will think of what you do.
It turns out these big designs kind of hurt, so he only gets the outline of Yamarashi done for now. He'll do the colors later.
He spends Christmas with his dad and uncle this year. He always likes spending Christmas with them, and it’s certainly better than being stood up by his own mother, but he still feels kind of flat. He keeps catching himself staring sadly out of the window. It’s not snowing. He remembers Hermann telling him that it doesn’t count as a proper Christmas unless it snows, and laughing at how unreasonable that was. What about tropical places? Or the entirety of the Southern Hemisphere? Hermann shrugged and said firmly that it didn’t count. Newt kissed him to make him shut up. He’d been so surprised to discover that awkward, uptight Hermann, who blushed over saying “I like you,” was enthusiastic and skilled at kissing. And other things- He tries, but he can’t stop these memories of last year’s Christmas, which started out so miserably and ended so fantastically. No Christmas sex for him this year.
He’s sure that his dad notices that something is off, but he’s heard of the Hermann situation by now and very nicely refrains from saying anything. Newt appreciates that. Monica would definitely say something. Monica would say way too many things.
He tries not to worry about Hermann spending Christmas all alone again, but he can’t help himself. When he walked into Hermann’s apartment last year, it was so bare. Not even a hint of Christmas spirit. He asked Hermann about it, at some point that night, and Hermann had shrugged his bare shoulders - Newt had watched his bones move under the pale skin with fascination - and said that he didn’t see the point when it was just him. Is he doing that again this year? Is he sitting in his cold apartment, drinking too much tea, all alone? Is he thinking about Newt?
He goes home December 27th and digs out the mug from its closet exile. “You are not very good at this ‘getting over him’ thing,” he says sternly to the smiling axolol. The blue sweater still smells like coffee. Newt sighs and wraps it up again, this time shoving the bundle deep into the pile of discarded clothes and junk under his bed. He imagines taking all his stupid lingering feelings about Hermann and pushing them there along with the mug and sweater. “And stay there,” he tells it resolutely.
Newton Geiszler’s New Year’s Resolutions: Stop thinking about a certain skinny physicist he can’t have. Start having sex with random people again. Get Tendo to tell him what the fuck he’s keeping secret. Stop looking around for a tiny, angry Australian boy every time he walks past the local elementary school.
January 7th, school starts again. Newt’s proud of himself when he realizes that he longer looks for Hermann around random corners.
On January 15th he at last bumps into Hermann - literally. He’s walking around campus, tired and daydreaming and not particularly paying attention to where he’s going, and he turns a corner a little too quickly and physically slams into another person.
Newt staggers back, the other person loses their balance and falls on their ass, Newt says “shit-”, the other man says “goddammit-“ and then “OW,” and something hard smacks Newt’s shins - not all in that order.
“Oh shit, sorry, that was my bad,” Newt apologizes hastily, feeling even worse when he sees that the man on the ground is curling over one of his legs and hissing in pain, and that the thing that hit Newt was his cane - he thinks oh good job, knocking over a cripple - and then the man looks up at him with startled and angry brown eyes. And long beautiful eyelashes.
He would think that it was just some stranger that sorta looked like Hermann, but too thin, too pale, with dark shadows under his eyes, and an unfamiliar anger on his face, if it wasn’t that he also registers at the same moment that when the man swore earlier, it was in German. That’s too much of a coincidence to be possible.
“Hermann?” he says disbelievingly, frozen in the act of stooping to offer his hand.
Hermann glares at him furiously - and he’s seen Hermann angry before, but never quite like this, sharp and raw and miserable - and, ignoring the proffered hand, snatches up his cane - luckily in reach - and uses it to haul himself to his feet. It looks painful. He bites his lip, and Newt numbly wonders if he’s holding in exclamations of pain.
“What the-“
“Fuck off,” Hermann spits. He starts to walk away, and Newt feels sick with shock when he sees that Hermann’s actually limping, pretty heavily, obviously leaning on the cane just to walk.
“Hermann- Wait!” Newt cries out desperately through his shock. But Hermann doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t acknowledge him in any way other than the visible tightening of his shoulders. Newt stares after him, too astonished to even think of chasing him down.
Hermann tells him later that if Newt had caught up to him then, he thinks he would have never forgiven him.