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"Into a White and Soundless Place"

Title: Into a White and Soundless Place
Pairing: Newton/Hermann
Rating: NC-17
Summary: written for the kink meme prompt: "In most of the fics I've read for this pairing, Newt is the one kind of driving the relationship. I'd like to see the opposite. Something where Hermann is the one who courts Newt/flaunts their relationship/asks Newt to stay with him."
A/N: somehow this became a sequel to this fic. I'm sorry, I don't mean to force all my stuff on people but I actually was kinda proud of how that one turned out and felt it needed more to it. Which is rare, I hate writing sequels.
Story:

It's easier to breathe already. It shouldn't be, because Hermann's nose is squished against Newton's shoulder and his mouth is clamped shut against his shirt, but it is. His head is no longer swimming and his chest doesn't hurt and Newton's saying something else. Hermann doesn't hear what it is, but he nods anyway. It doesn't matter.

Newton lets go of Hermann's neck. "You good?"

Hermann takes a deep breath and nods. They make it about ten paces before Hermann takes Newton's elbow.

He doesn't need to, he doesn't lean his weight off his cane, he just wraps his fingers around his arm to hold him there. Newton glances back and smiles, but doesn't say anything. when they get to Hermann's room Newton slides easily inside. "I'll be honest," he says, his tone light, "I wasn't really sure how I was going to get to sleep tonight without your snoring."

Hermann sputters. "Oh ha."

Newton grins at him, but after a second he adds honestly, "I'm serious, though. It would've been weird, going back. I wasn't even headed to my room. I was just going to go get coffee and sit around the kitchen."

That surprises Hermann, but the instant it does, he wonders why. He remembers what Mako had told him at lunch. Newt likes it too. He hadn't really believed her at the time, but now it just makes sense. He wonders how obvious it was to everyone else, how dependent they'd grown on each other.

Newton drops down the futon as he's done for the past fortnight and crawls under the blanket. Hermann listens to him breathe for a moment. He remembers what else Mako had told him. If you ask him, he'll stay. He can't tell for sure what she meant by that anymore.

"Goodnight, Newton," he says after a while.

He hears a quiet sniffle, like Newton had already been falling asleep. "'Night."

When Hermann wakes up the next morning, Newton is, for once, still asleep. He checks his clock to make sure they aren't running late before he turns his attention back to Newton.

He sleeps in pajama pants that Hermann is quite honestly surprised he even found in an adult size. They're yellow and faded and covered in little terrorizing Godzillas. He also sleeps without a shirt, which Hermann only recently admitted to himself he may actually enjoy more than he should. His tattoos should be atrocious, yet somehow they still manage to be beautiful, which is something else Hermann hates to admit.

"Newton," Hermann's voice cracks from sleep, and Newton doesn't move. Hermann clears his throat and tries again, a little louder. Newton stirs, mumbles something, but otherwise doesn't react. Hermann gets to his feet and walks over cautiously. "Newton, wake up," he hisses, dropping his hand on Newton's bare shoulder.

Newton jumps. Expecting it this time, Hermann merely flinches, but Newton's hand flies out and grabs his arm anyway. Hermann smirks at him. "Nice catch," he says sarcastically.

"Yeah, well, it would've been if you'd freaked out like last time," Newton snaps back, "Then I'd have been your hero." After a quick smile he adds, "Dude, your hands are freezing."

Hermann hadn't even realized his hand was still on Newton's arm. He drops it and says, "Breakfast?"

"Man, remember that time I brought you breakfast? You owe me." Hermann scoffs, but catches himself making a note of it for later, if it ever happens again. Newton gets drowsily to his feet and rummages around in his suitcase for a clean outfit. Hermann watches his tattoos stretch and move with his skin as he pulls a shirt on over his head.

As Newton kicks out of his pajama bottoms Hermann's eyes drop to the floor. His legs are covered just as densely as his arms and chest. It shouldn't cause his stomach to flip, but it does. He tries not to think about what he hasn't seen.

They're eating lunch, Newton animatedly explaining his theory on how the kaiju are all clones of one another (which is preposterous, really), when Mako walks by them to get in line. She catches Hermann's eye and smiles. If Newton notices, he doesn't question it.

On their way down to the lab, Hermann grabs Newton's arm again. Newton doesn't seem to mind. After having to touch for all that time it feels weird to stand so close and not be.

Newton doesn't wear his headphones anymore. He babbles excitedly at Hermann whenever he thinks he's discovered something. Hermann will nod vaguely and occasionally "hmm" which is more than they ever used to do. Whenever Newton falls silent for too long Hermann finds himself missing the incessant stream of consciousness, so he'll prod easily, "Find anything?"

Sometimes Newton's thoughts aren't scientific at all. "No," he answers once, "But you know what I miss most about pre-K-Day?"

Hermann isn't sure what Newton's answer is, but he knows his. "Fresh food? Vegetables and fruits that aren't all just canned from the last -"

Newton laughs. "I don't think I ever ate anything that didn't come out of a can in the first place," he says, and Hermann feels a sudden, ridiculous urge to make him dinner. "Nah, I miss conventions."

It takes Hermann a moment to realize he means comic book conventions, and not just academic meetings. He rolls his eyes. "Of course."

"Have you never been to one? Oh man, if we make it out of here and they start cropping back up I'm taking you to one. They're a blast, I promise."

Hermann makes a noncommittal noise and doesn't let himself hear the word if echoing in Newton's sentence. He remembers suddenly a conversation had in the dark, and wonders how often Newton thinks about the impending death of himself or his colleagues.

They've all lost people since K-Day. It somehow feels like it's been decades since Trespasser while simultaneously feeling as if they had no knowledge of the breach just yesterday. Personally, Hermann tries not to think about it, but it seems as if Newton can think of little else.

I'd miss you, Newton had said. The way he'd sounded, it was as if he already did.

"All right," Hermann says finally. Newton's head snaps up. He looks confused for a moment before breaking out into a grin. "But I am not," Hermann adds insistently, "dressing up in some ridiculous costume."

"Aw, where's the fun in that?" Newton asks. "You remember House? You'd be great as him. I could be Wilson. We'd be great!"

"Absolutely not, no."

Newton huffs, but he hardly looks deterred. "Say that now, but if it's the last thing I do I'm getting you to cosplay with me."

Hermann rolls his eyes, but he can feel himself smiling despite his best efforts.

At dinner, without thinking, Hermann drops a cookie onto Newton's tray. Newton smiles at it, but doesn't say anything.

Little by little, Hermann lets his defenses drop. His hold onto Newton's arm slides down to his wrist as they walk. He leans in to whisper things to him in the hall, snarky comments and bad jokes. Newton allows these changes, laughs easily and leans into Hermann as they walk.

Hermann knows what he's doing on principle, but he's never gone about this before. He never had many people in his life, and the people he's had, he's hardly ever had any desire to touch. Newton is different.

Newton is psychotic and moronic and a hurricane of terrible mistakes and good intentions. He's blindingly frustrating and absolutely ridiculous. He's a nightmare. But he's brave and brilliant and he's the first - the only - person who has ever tried to develop a relationship with Hermann outside of mere coworkers.

Newton, who upon first shaking his hand assured Hermann to call him 'Newt'. Newton, with six doctorates under his belt before he turned eighteen, took more to impress than Hermann's own ivy league childhood. Newton, who mocked him and played his old pop music at top volume just to annoy him, but ran to his side when Hermann fell down the stairs, voice hysterical as he shouted, "Hermann! Hermann, oh my God, are you okay?"

Newton, whose first instinct was to offer himself up as a physical support for however long he needed without even thinking. Newton, who got him cookies he didn't even ask for. Newton, who told him he'd miss him if anything happened to him.

It gets more obvious. Running his hand through Newton's hair as he walks past him in the lab, touching his fingers as he hands him anything he asks for. Newton never says anything, never pulls away, and cheerfully tells Hermann goodnight from his futon every night.

Hermann stresses for several days before it happens out of the blue. It all comes to a head, and one day when Newton is struggling to find his spare key to Hermann's room, Hermann pulls on his arm. When Newton looks at him, Hermann clears his throat loudly and says, "Newt, please forgive me if I'm misinterpreting, but I..."

Words fail him and actions kick in, leaning forward and kissing Newton hard enough to press him into the door.

Newton squeaks. There's really no other way to describe it.

Nervous, Hermann pulls back almost instantly. Newton doesn't say anything for a second, but before Hermann can get too worried he manages, "You called me 'Newt'."

"I felt now was as appropriate a time as any."

Newton laughs, sounding dazed. "Good - good call."

He looks a little stunned, and Hermann doesn't know what to do now. Newton is smiling, so it can't have gone too badly, but a minute feels like thirty as Newton stares at a spot past Hermann's chest, still leaning up against the door.

Finally, he says, "You wanna...um, go inside?"

Hermann nods. "Please."

Newton nods, finally pulls the keys out of his pocket, and drops them.

He stares dumbly at them for a second, and feeling vaguely hysterical, Hermann laughs.

Newton looks up, startled. Hermann thinks he's probably still not used to his laugh. He doesn't do it much, and certainly not as loudly as he's doing it now. He wants to apologize, but knows laughing is an idiotic thing to apologize for, so he just kisses Newton again.

The kiss is longer this time, and Newton has time to kiss back.

He doesn't kiss anything like Hermann would expect. He's soft and compliant and gentle, even after Hermann presses him back against the door. He lets Hermann lead the kiss, which Hermann isn't sure he's comfortable doing until Newton whimpers at the feel of Hermann's tongue.

The sound makes Hermann bolder. He pins Newton to the door with his cane, leaning heavily against the door for support as he moves his attention to Newton's throat. "You," Newton huffs, and Hermann takes pride in how breathless he sounds, "I thought you said you wanted to go inside."

"I changed my mind," Hermann says with much more confidence than he's feeling. Before he can think it through he bites down on Newton's neck. Newton yelps, his head slamming back into the door.

"O-oh." Newton clears his throat. "I um - as long as your leg is - uh..."

Rendering Newton speechless goes a bit to Hermann's head. He pops the first few buttons of Newton's shirt. "Completely fine," he says in a rush, watching as Newton's tattoos bloom into view. He realizes suddenly that Newton is blushing, which he can't recall him ever doing before.

Curious, he finishes unbuttoning Newton's shirt. He remembers how badly he'd wanted to touch them when he'd seen them the first time - how much he'd wanted to know what was there that he couldn't see. His hands move without thinking, working open his ridiculously tight pants.

"Holy shit, Hermann," Newton flails, grabbing for Hermann's hands, but Hermann drops the hold he has on his cane pressing into Newton's side and grabs his wrist. His cane clatters to the floor and he leans more of his weight against the door and Newton. "Hermann, I - we can't do this here."

Hermann glances down the empty hall before turning back to Newton's chest. "Yes, we can."

"Oh my God," Newton says with a winded laugh, "You're - you're a secret pervert!"

Offended, Hermann sinks his teeth into Newton's collarbone, hard enough to leave indentations in the bright swirls of green and black and yellow.

Newton's breath catches. His hand goes slack in Hermann's and he lets it go, sliding his hand down Newton's pants before he can stop him again.

"Ich möchte Sie an die labor kreidetafel ficken," he huffs against Newton's neck, and he watches with a grin as Newton's face turns red.

"We can - um, I'm okay with that," he mumbles. He sounds so intensely shy, and Hermann wonders if he's somehow absorbing all of his self-assurance or if Newton's sudden timidness is just making Hermann braver. He bites into Newton's neck again and sucks hard, until he feels Newton laugh slightly.

"Are you - are you giving me a hickey?"

"Yes." Hermann would've figured that was obvious. He eyes it critically before going back to make another just above it.

Newton groans before managing to regain his composure enough to tease him again. "Aren't we a little old for that?"

"I'd never really wanted to do it before now," Hermann admits frankly, running a finger over them as he pulls back. "Don't cover them," he says conversationally as he turns his attention back to jerking Newton off with slow even strokes. "They came out quite well, I'm rather proud."

Newton nods, but he doesn't look as if he knows what he's agreeing to. Hermann wonders how long it's been since he's had sex. It's been quite a while for himself, and he has a hard time imagining anyone in the PPDC capable of going out for much since the decline of the jaeger program's success, but Newton has such poor impulse control, he feels like an exception.

Hermann pulls back to watch him, but Newton whines, his hand snatching Hermann's collar and pulling him close. He pulls him until their foreheads touch, and Hermann can hear his labored breathing.

His silence, of course, only lasts a few seconds. "Did you - ah - think about this...before?"

Hermann swallows. He had. Not consciously, just the occasional dream he'd been able to shake off the next morning and pretend it never happened, but it had always been there. Infuriatingly and undeniably there. He nods.

Newton's eyes are shut but he must feel it, because he laughs, breathless and relieved. He doesn't admit to anything himself. Instead, he groans, "Should've - should've told me," he arches his back, losing himself for a second before sighing, "I would've never let you live it down."

Hermann lets his free hand wrap around the back of Newton's neck, his fingers pressing into the bruises. He feels Newton take a rattling breath. "I don't assume you'll do so as it is."

Newton shakes his head. "Probably not."

"Even if I'm the one about to make you come in your pants."

Newton shivers, nods in the same way he had a moment ago. His mouth moves, but no words come out. Hermann speeds his hand up, and Newton makes a noise like he's drowning. The hand at Hermann's collar tightens, and the other one flies up to dig into his hair.

"Fuck," Newton babbles, "fuck, fuck, Hermann, God - yes, please. Let me - fuck - tell me I can, I want - shit, please. I need you to."

Hermann's chest tightens. He feels his eyes go wide and doesn't say anything for a moment.

Newton whines, practically vibrating against Hermann. "Please," he's whispering, over and over until it sounds more like he's sobbing. "Please, please, please..."

Part of Hermann wants to see how long he can make Newton wait, how far he can take Newton apart before he can't hold back anymore.

A larger part, however, is too impatient. "Now," Hermann says sharply, and Newton crumples, curling against him as he cries out wordlessly. He's shaking and he's struggling to stand enough that Hermann hesitates before pulling his sticky hand away.

They stay that way a moment, both sagging against the door as Newton catches his breath. He's still clinging hard to Hermann, breathing so hard Hermann can practically hear his lungs rattling. Hermann presses his face to Newton's neck and takes a deep breath.

Suddenly, Newton drops to the ground, and for a split second Hermann thinks he's fallen, but it's only to swipe the key off the floor. He struggles with the door a moment before finally getting it open and pulling Hermann inside. He leads Hermann to his bunk and strips him down before Hermann can protest.

Newton lays him flat on the bed and crawls into his lap. He presses a hand gently over Hermann's bad leg and mumbles something, but before Hermann can ask him to repeat himself he slides his mouth over Hermann's cock.

Hermann swears, his entire body - save the leg Newton is holding firmly in place - jerks, and he sits up to grapple at Newton's shoulders. Newton groans as Hermann's fingernails dig hard into his shoulders, and Hermann shudders violently.

He doesn't last long. It's been an embarrassingly long time, and even then, it hadn't been like this, with the focus entirely on him and his leg kept safe, Newton watching his face, wide-eyed, from his lap. His whole body is on fire and his mind is losing focus. He watches Newton's face and he can't breathe. It's so loud - blood roaring in his ears, or maybe just his own breathing. It's too much, he feels like he's going to tear apart.

His hands are in Newton's hair and he thinks he's talking but he can't even tell what language his words are in anymore, a bastardization of his mother tongue and English, if anything. He hopes that some of the words turn out warnings, but he can't tell, because Newton only wraps his hand around the base of Hermann's cock and sucks down hard.

Hermann shouts, his throat gone raw, and when Newton pulls off to stroke him gently through the aftershocks he pushes Hermann back against the bed and kisses his neck.

He's out of breath and smiling when he says, "Wanted to do that...for years."

"With me?" Hermann doesn't mean to ask it, to go fishing for compliments like an insecure child, but he can't understand what someone like Newton could see in him. Aside from never being particularly kind to him Hermann seemed the entire antithesis of everything Newton enjoys, and while he refuses to wallow in self-pity, Newton seems beyond capable of getting someone more flexible and able-bodied.

Newton doesn't even seem to realize why it's a question. He's still a little winded, and Hermann can't help but smile at him as he struggles to sound indignant. "Are you kidding? I've pretty much wanted to release the kinky bastard under your stuffed shirt since I met you."

Hermann doesn't know what to say to that. The phrase 'kinky bastard' startles a disgruntled huff out of him, and Newton laughs.

"By the way," he adds, "You can't take back what you said about your chalkboard. That's happening." He looks down at the bed with a contented sigh before sitting up. "If you're one of those guys who likes space after sex, I don't mind, I'll go sleep on the -"

"No!" It bursts out of Hermann so fast and loud that it startles them both, and Newton takes a moment to stop blinking owlishly before he can smirk at him.

"Oh my God, you like to cuddle! Jeez, you're full of surprises."

With an embarrassed grunt Hermann grabs Newton's arm before he can move, tugging him back down onto the bed next to him. He folds over him, pulling Newton almost unconsciously until they're spooning. Hermann remembers wanting to ask for this one night, after a particularly hard night on his leg. Newton had made him a bath and tea and found him strong enough medication to make him woozy enough to want it but not quite enough to swallow his pride and ask.

"I want this," Hermann says, "I like this. Stay."

He hears Newton's breath catch and tenses. Maybe Mako had been wrong, maybe this was asking too much of him. "I just mean -" Hermann starts, feeling embarrassed, because he doesn't just mean anything. Newton is the only constant in his life anymore and he wants to keep him as constant as he can. He doesn't want to think about if he could die in the next kaiju attack. He doesn't want Newton to think about it, either. He just wants this. He only wants this.

"You mean what?" Newton's voice cuts through Hermann's thoughts and Hermann unconsciously tightens his grip on Newton. He still can't think of a believable lie. He doesn't want to have to.

He feels ridiculous. This is worse than panicking and flying out after Newton when he left the lab. He doesn't want to need someone so much. He doesn't want to be a burden or to smother with more attention than they ask for. He doesn't want to get hurt.

"I want to know what you mean," Newton says, his voice unnervingly serious as he wriggles in Hermann's grip until he can look at him. Hermann must look scared because Newton's face brightens, goes easy in an attempt to break the tension. "I could move the rest of my things in here," he says, "If that's -"

"Yes," Hermann spits out before he can stop himself, before Newton is even finished. "Yes that's - please." He swallows awkwardly. "Please stay."

Newton grins at him. "I can't wait to tell everyone what a big softie you secretly are."

"Shut up," Hermann grumbles, curling back around him.

Newton falls silent with a chuckle. He's quiet for a long time, but as Hermann starts to drift off he feels Newton's fingers tracing over the hand he has pressed against his chest, down his wrist and over his arm, up to his elbow before tracing back down again. Hermann doesn't know if Newton can tell he's still awake, so he stays still and quiet until finally falling asleep.

As it turns out, Newton doesn't have to say a word about what a "big softie" Hermann secretly is, because it isn't really a secret he feels the need to keep.

Hermann doesn't think either of them are any different, for the most part. They still bicker endlessly (though with much less venom than before) and keep mainly to themselves. They still strive to prove the other wrong on a daily basis while trying to have the best theory for Pentecost. Their lab remains split down the middle because "I cannot have kaiju entrails on my side of the lab, Newton. If we do away with the illusion of sides, I'll be forced to deal with the fact that kaiju entrails are being slung about my lab."

So the tape stays, but the boundary really doesn't. Hermann may not like kaiju guts on his side of the lab, but he likes Newton there.

Hermann is most comfortable with his hand wrapped around Newton's wrist like another one of his foolish leather bracelets. They're never within arm's length of each other long before Hermann will run a hand through Newton's hair or casually straighten his collar or tie.

More than once Newton has fallen asleep with his head in Hermann's lap during breakfast, and Hermann will quietly sit and read until he feels it's time for them to return to the lab, assuring anyone who comes up to ask if it hurts his leg that's he's fine.

Hermann can't seem to go very long without kissing Newton, either. They've only been caught flat-out necking in halls a few times (which Newton finds hilarious and Hermann just gets embarrassed about), but Hermann will lean over while sitting next to him at lunch and kiss his neck, or bend down for a surprise peck whenever Newton wanders over to his side for a book or sheet of paper. On days when Hermann allows Newton to get his tray for him, Hermann will tug him down by his tie for a quick kiss on the lips before he can sit down.

"They're like teenagers," Chuck teases one day, not bothering to lower his voice when it has no real malice as he watches from the other side of their table. Hermann clings to Newton's wrist and kisses down his jaw. Smiling, Newton turns his face to kiss him back.

Smiling, Mako nods. "Yes, I think it's probably because they never got to be." Realizing no one at their table really got to be children, she specifies, "I don't think they've ever really felt like themselves around anyone else before."

Hermann glances up at her, but he doesn't think she realizes he heard. She isn't wrong, anyway. Hermann's never been this comfortable being himself in a relationship. If Hermann's quite honest, he's never been this comfortable being himself in general. He feels Newton's fingers curl over his own and turns to look at him just as he says something that makes Alexis Kaidonovsky laugh, deep and booming.

He likes to think Newton feels the same.

Hermann's finishing up one of his equations when a thought strikes him.

The clock says 2:31am and he's probably more than a little sleep deprived, otherwise he'd never think this was a good idea. He turns around to see Newton elbow deep in a kaiju liver. Yes, definitely sleep deprived. "Newton," he says gently, "Come here please."

Newton knows to take his gloves off before stepping over the line, but he still looks confusedly at his shirt, flecked with various spray, before shrugging and crossing over.

"I seem to recall making you a promise I haven't fulfilled yet," Hermann says.

Newton just manages to look more confused. "Huh?"

Hermann's leg hasn't bothered him much today, and he's able to hold his cane out to press the handle of it against Newton's chest. Newton lets himself get backed against the chalkboard before his eyes widen in realization.

"O-oh."

Since the first time, Hermann has always found it amusing how bashful Newton is in the moments leading up to sex. During, and especially after, he seems to take on the persona of a self-proclaimed sex god, but every time Hermann makes his intentions clear enough all he can do is turn pink and look at the floor.

Hermann raises his eyebrows.

Nodding, Newton unbuttons and shrugs off his shirt and shimmies out of his stupidly tight pants. Hermann runs his hands over the tattoos along his hipbones, barely scratching his fingernails into brightly coloured skin. He turns away to rummage in his desk and when he pulls out a bottle of lotion, Newton laughs.

"You are such a secret pervert."

"Not such a secret anymore, is it?" Hermann snaps back, slathering his hand with lotion pushing Newton back against the chalkboard.

"Hey, is your leg gonna -"

"Yes," Hermann interrupts, rolling his eyes.

"...give out," Newton finishes, just to be ornery.

With an irritable sigh Hermann grumbles, "Newt, I assure you, I will be fine."

Newton always takes him seriously when he calls him 'Newt,' which Hermann won't understand as long as he lives, but it doesn't matter. Newton spins around and grips the chalkboard shelf for leverage. He eyes the board for a moment as Hermann settles the lotion bottle at his feet.

"Are these equations something important?"

"Mm," Hermann answers, sliding a finger into Newton, "Somewhat."

Newton takes a moment to stop squirming. "And you're gonna...ram me up against it? Won't that screw it up?"

Hermann crooks his finger with a shrug, making Newton yelp. "I have a fantastic memory," he says, slowly working in a second finger. "Besides, I find this much more important."

"Jesus," Newton gasps, his grip on the shelf shaking, "What's gotten into you?"

"I would think that would be obvious," Hermann says against Newton's neck, shoving his fingers as deep as they'll go.

"Christ that's -" Newton stops to take a breath, and Hermann doesn't let him catch it. Newton gives up and widens his legs, reaching back behind his head to clench his hand in Hermann's hair. "That's flattering. Probably too - too flattering. That shit's gonna go to my head, Hermann."

Hermann adds another finger. "I would hope so."

Newton is whimpering before too long, and so Hermann let's him go. Without being asked Newton spins back around and throws himself up onto the chalk ledge, practically bouncing as Hermann slides more lotion onto himself.

Newton can never really control himself once they've started. He tends to get impatient and overly tactile, grabbing at Hermann and wrapping around him, leaving bitemarks and hickeys anywhere he can reach and vivid red scratches along his back. Hermann doesn't mind it. Honestly, he prefers it, though he'd never admit it to anyone but Newton.

Newton pulls Hermann to him, grumbling, "That's good enough, God, you're so paranoid," and locking his legs around Hermann's waist. Hermann slides in, and Newton sags into him with a groan. Tisking, Hermann slams him back against the board.

Newton looks him, his eyes wide and somewhere between flustered and smug, before tugging him down into a kiss. It's an awkward position to be in once Hermann starts moving, so Newton moves instead to kissing Hermann's chest. His hands are everywhere. Sliding over Hermann's chest and neck, fisting in his hair, clawing down his back.

Hermann leans forward, putting as much weight as he can against Newton and the blackboard, which Newton hardly seems to mind. His mouth latches hard onto Hermann's throat and sucks, moaning against his skin as Hermann picks up the pace.

"How is it," Hermann grunts in Newton's ear, "that this is the only way I can get you to shut up?"

Newton may have laughed, if Hermann hadn't cut him off with a particularly hard thrust up against the chalkboard. Newton's head falls back with a thunk and he whispers, "That..."

Hermann had been exaggerating, of course. Newton has often been quite loud during sex, and other times his mouth has been too busy on Hermann to say anything, but he's never sounded anything like that. Curious, Hermann does it again.

"F-fuck..." Hermann's not sure what's different, but whatever it is, he's going to take advantage of it. He does it again and again until Newton is trembling. Hermann's leg is starting to twinge, but he ignores it. He can't stop now, not with Newton like this. He's never seen him this way before, it's intoxicating.

He's babbling now, but it's nothing like how he usually is. His voice is almost too soft to hear, half of his words coming out more as gasps than actual syllables. Hermann actually has to lean forward to hear him.

"Please, Hermann, let me - let me, please I - fuck I can't -"

Hermann feels his jaw drop before snapping it back. He hasn't even touched him, yet. He sits back, slightly, watching Newton twisting desperately against the wall, muttering things Hermann can't understand even from where he is now.

He leans forward and presses his lips in Newton's hair, wrapping a hand around the back of his head to hold it still. "Go on."

Newton shudders and whines, high and keening, his hands jumping up to grab onto Hermann's shoulders. He tugs forward without thinking and Hermann has to flail to catch himself against the blackboard. Newton's still shaking, pressed hard against Hermann's chest.

Dumbfounded, Hermann runs his hands through Newton's hair, kissing down the side of his face, tasting chalk and sweat as he catches his breath. Newton still has a hand clenched over Hermann's shoulder, but it falls as he swallows thickly and mumbles, "I, uh. I love you."

Hermann smiles. It's not the first time he's said it, not even by a long shot, but he's never sounded so sincere before, gentle and warm and like he's never really meant it before now, not with anyone. Hermann feels a little dizzy with the realization. He pulls out, but Newton wraps a hand around his cock before he can take a step back, and slides his grip over him.

His fingers are sleepy and loose and just enough. It takes less than half a dozen strokes before Hermann comes with a quiet "ah! against Newton's temple. Newton looks at his hand for a second before wiping it on his leg on instinct before realizing he's not wearing pants.

Dazed, he says, "Oh, oops."

Hermann snickers and awkwardly helps Newton to his feet. "I love you, too," he says finally, and Newton smiles lazily at the jeans Hermann has picked up off the floor to hand him. "More than you know."