Baby steps, weight gain, leftovers, and men of mystery

Chapter 32: Baby steps, weight gain, leftovers, and men of mystery
==Text==
===AN 32.1===
Newt's eyes flutter open to a deep blue room. He flops his head to the side and slides his eyes to the bedside clock. Almost sunrise if that blurry clocky-thing says when he thinks it does. Last night's dream fades rapidly, but a pleasant, warm feeling remains.
Wait.
That's Hermann.
"Heh."
Newt shifts until he feels Hermann's breath against his shoulder. Another twist and he runs his fingers through Hermann's sleep-mussed hair.
Hermann sighs and snuggles closer.
"Hadn't noticed before, but your hair is really fine. Soft. It feels great between my fingers."
Hermann hums as Newt continues to card his hair.
"Where did this sweetheart who kisses me out of nowhere come from, hmm? Where'd the prickly, emotionally stunted dude I used to work with go?"
"I think he may have missed his flight from Hong Kong."
Newt jerks in surprise. "Oh! Sorry! Didn't mean to wake you up."
"Mmph. It is about time we were up and about."
"Dude, the sun isn't even awake yet."
"You know perfectly well the sun doesn't sleep. It's incapable. It's not even alive."
"Don't be pedantic first thing in the morning, it's a total buzzkill."
"Maybe that gentleman did make the journey after all." Hermann buries his face in Newt's neck.
"Maybe. Hopefully he's only back for a short visit." Newt scratches under Hermann's secondaries.
Hermann groans and, after a moment, moves his wing for Newt to work on different spot.
"Flights. Flights … " Newt murmurs. He stops his ministrations and picks up a shed feather. "I-I just realized. You're trapped here. You'd never get through airport security. You can't fly."
Making an annoyed noise, Hermann bumps Newt's hand with his wing. "Yes. Twiceover."
Newt resumes scratching. "You'll probably be here the rest of your life. You'll die here." He pauses again. "How ironic is that? You can't fly the way normal people do because you have wings."
Hermann sighs, pushes up on his elbows, and stretches his wings until they quiver at their full reach. "I cannot fly with those wings, either, because I have a body like that of a normal person."
"Holy shit, Hermann. That's a first."
"What?"
"You just said you have a normal body."
Hermann blinks in confusion. "I said I have a body like a normal person's."
"Close enough. I'm happy with baby steps from you."
Hermann sniffs dubiously and sits up, wings beating slowly to help his balance.
Newt shivers in the slight breeze they stir up.
"Apologies. I didn't mean to chill you." Hermann hesitates, then gently chafes at Newt's bare arm, warming away his goosebumps.
Newt closes his eyes and a contented sigh escapes him. He leans in and tucks his face into the curve of Hermann's neck.
Hermann tenses, but slowly enfolds Newt with both his arms and wings. After a long minute, Hermann clears his throat and pulls away. "I should make ready for the day."
Newt holds him a few seconds longer before releasing him. "Yeah, let's get going," he sighs. "You hit the shower first."
As the shower starts running, Newt collects the box of damaged and faded feathers from its hiding place at the back of Hermann's closet for the weekly incinerator run.
It's a shame we have to destroy these. Especially the primary.
Nearly two feet long, the flight feather is drop-dead gorgeous, even with notches along the vane.
It would make a hell of a quill. Or just a decoration.
But … Hermann's right. We need to get rid of them. Being gene-spliced, on top of everything he's done, is probably more than anyone could accept without thinking he's dangerous.
But this is a guy who was crying over software the other night. Software. How much less of a threat could he be?
And they've never seen him with kids.
If anyone should be breeding and raising a family, it's him.
Newt hesitates. "A pile of little, downy Hermanns. It'd probably kill me." He takes another step, but pauses again. "But we'd have to involve surrogates and fertility science and Hermann would totally have flashbacks and he would never agree and it's not like either of us really should be left alone with kids twenty-four-seven, that would probably scar the thing … "
===AN 32.2===
When Newt returns from dropping off the feathers in the biohazard trash, he finds Hermann in front of the bathroom mirror struggling to dry the base of his wings, grumbling in what sounds to Newt like very disgruntled Cantonese.
"Ummm ... dude? You haven't found the air dryer in the shower yet?"
"The what?" Hermann pauses in his efforts with the towel.
"The shower has built-in air jets to save you—" he waves at Hermann, his damp feathers, and the towel, "—these sorts of problems. You turn them on with this," he twists a small knob just outside the shower door, "and—voila!—warm air to dry those beautiful feathers of yours. And any other hard-to-reach places."
"Ah." Hermann lowers his eyes and glances up through his eyelashes. "Thank you. That will be most helpful."
"It should make it easier for you to try some of that feather shampoo I found for you. Might help with all the itching." Newt breaks out his puppy-dog eyes. "Of course, we could save time and shower together … "
Hermann hunches his shoulders and looks away. "I would not be … comfortable with that arrangement."
Newt steps back and holds up his hands. "No worries. If you need help soaping up, we can do it in our bathing suits."
Hermann looks doubtful, but nods slowly.
"Later. I'll start breakfast. Fruit and eggs cool?"
===AN 32.3===
Hermann arrives in the kitchen wearing a t-shirt over his bound wings and skinny frame.
"You've been here a week and you're already wearing t-shirts and slippers most of the time, even though you've got a closet full of layers. That's a pretty sudden change."
"The pleasant weather provides a bit of encouragement."
"Not having other people around helps, too, right? No one but me to put on a show for?" Newt kisses his cheek and Hermann flinches.
And blushes furiously.
Newt steps back and squints at today's Jaeger shirt.
"Horizon Brave? How long have you been holding on to that?"
Hermann relaxes and slides into a seat at the table. "Six years, perhaps?"
Newt blinks.
Hermann shrugs. "I've remained the same size since seventeen."
"Seventeen!" Newt's jaw moves wordlessly for a beat. "Oh. Metabolism. You don't gain weight. Lucky bastard." He pokes himself in the soft belly. "Then again, your cooking might help me slim down." He glances up, smirking.
"There's nothing wrong with my cooking. If anything, the exercise we'll get moving around the house and island will do us the most good."
"So will running from the fire. Aren't you up to three near-infernos now?"
Hermann glares.
"Maybe we should hire a housekeeper. There's gotta be someone in town looking for some part-time work. Correction: someone in town looking for some part-time work who can cook."
Hermann's expression turns thoughtful. "Delegating household chores would free up more time for our research."
"Or, you know, relaxing and enjoying our lives. They might keep us from burning through our cache of fire extinguishers, too." Newt bustles a stack of plates into the dishwasher. "Heh. 'Burning.'" He shakes his head. "I'll drop Tendo a note and see if he's got anyone qualified over there."
Hermann grunts assent and ambles toward his office. The yellow fabric of his shirt shifts unnaturally across his shoulder blades as a wing twitches.
Newt's heart sinks. "No wonder he layers up … " He listens to Hermann's scuffing steps. If there's a housekeeper, he'll have to stop dressing like this. It'll be back to sweaters and high-buttoned collars.
===AN 32.4===
Around mid-afternoon, a Hermann appears in the reflective surface of a planter. He's leaning on the doorframe between their workspaces, for want of a better word, admiring Newt. Caught, the reflection huffs and wobbles as he tries to retreat deeper into his office.
"How's the model coming?" Newt calls.
Hermann's shoulders drop as tension releases. "I have the hydrological simulation software configured the way I want it and am borrowing time on a mainframe to test it against historical data while I continue tweaking. I may be able to start placing sensors as early as next week to fine-tune it. How is your genetic sequencing going?"
"Still have a pile to do, but I've got all the plants in the lab and four different species of algae so far. Three of 'em totally unique. Way unique. Almost alien unique. Apparently whatever bled out out of Hound and maybe Mafui'e was mutagenic. I'm not totally sure yet, but I think one of the ones I haven't sequenced yet is actually kinda carnivorous."
"Carnivorous algae?"
"I put a couple colonies in a dish with some standard plankton for giggles yesterday. This morning there was a lot more of sample type and none of the control type. I couldn't even find any of the pieces or trace chemicals. I'm pretty sure the controls were eaten and not dissolved." Newt suddenly doubles over to peer into the algae from point-blank range. "Dude! We have flesh-eating algae! This is going to be an awesome paper!" Without straightening, he starts scribbling on a notepad. "Do we have any leftover meat? I wanna see what it does to animal tissue!"
Hermann sighs. "I'll check the back of the fridge."
"Find me something and I'll make you a co-author." He freezes with his hands poised above the algae sample. "Duuuude, this'll be my first non-Kaiju paper since 2015. It's the start of a whole new era!"
"Some things will remain the same, such as a collection of slimy samplesliable to kill us both while all the same inhabiting our shared workspace."
"The way science should be!"
"If I find any of it it my space or, god forbid, the kitchen refrigerator, I will take myself and my work into town."
"Whoa! No need to worry, dude! It's going in the saltwater section in the far corner right now."
Hermann sniffs and makes his way to the kitchen.
Newt hums as he transfers some of hungry algae to a new, larger container.
"Here. I believe this was a chicken … limb." Hermann passes over a plate.
"Perfect! Well, pork would be a better human analogue, but this will work fine. Thanks." Newt drops the meat into the algae tank. "Could you put frozen pork on the supply list?"
Hermann sighs and shuffles back to his office.
"Wait! What if the carnivorous algae isn't a mutant local life form? What if it started as a hitchhiker on the Kaiju? It might be a biological terraforming agent! Wipe out the locals and secrete chemicals that make the area more hospitable to the potential new owners."
Hermann's expression darkens. "There was nothing about those beasts not designed to kill."
"Not even their freakin' skin conditions. Jesus." Newt shakes his head. "Amazing. Guess my first non-Kaiju paper will have to wait."
Out of the corner of his eye, Newt catches Hermann shudder as he turns away. Have my samples always—
>ka-pwing!<
Newt dives across the lab and slaps the screensaver off his laptop.
He doesn't recognize the sender's email address.
He opens it anyway.
:From: Bastien G (sanmonbunshi@touque.net) | Sent: Friday, March 9, 2025 @ 12:42 NZT (23:42 GMT) from London, United Kingdom | Encryption: Gamma | To: wassermolch (sparrow@drsg.kiwi)
:Subject: Post
:Newt:
:I'm sending a present. There's an enveloped inside; HIDE. IT. If Hermann sees it he'll kill us both.
:Bastien.
Newt stares. "What the hell?" he mumbles. "The younger Gottliebs: Men of mystery."
He deletes the message and dashes off a quick note to Tendo about possible domestic help.
===AN 32.5===
Then he loses himself in setting up for the next round of DNA sequencing, starting with the killer algae.
Newt stops work a little early to ensure he beats Hermann to the kitchen. Dinner preparation and the meal end without flames.
===AN 32.6===
As the two change for sleep, Hermann freezes beside the bed, expression blank.
Newt is at his side in an instant, eyes huge with concern. "Hermann? What's wrong? You okay?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine." Hermann squeezes his eyes tightly shut and shakes his head. "It was only an unwelcome daydream."
"One of my memories?"
Hermann eases himself into bed. "Yes."
"Why are you so dead set against looking through them?" Newt cocks his head.
"It is not my place to pry in your mind."
"They're in your mind now, too, right?"
Hermann frowns.
"Dude, it will help with the intrusive thoughts. Just get it over with." Newt gestures welcomingly. "I've had a pretty good life, there shouldn't be anything too traumatic in there. I mean, I've pretty much lived on easy street compared to you."
"It's not so much your traumas I fear, it's seeing your happiness."
"My happi— What? That's … that's messed up, Hermann. You're afraid of seeing me happy? Why?"
"The comparison between our pasts will be … painful."
"Yeah, maybe, but you'll come out with happy memories. They'll feel like yours."
"But they won't be mine. Those things will not have happened to me. All I'll see is how different I am. Again."
"Dude, we're all different."
"Don't be so intentionally thick. No one is quite my sort of different."
"Yeah, so? No one's my sort of different, either!"
"You chose your difference! I did not!"
"Oh, right. I definitely picked bipolar off the menu! 'That looks like fun,' I said! I want to go crazy someday and spend my life with people waiting for me to go crazy! I totally wanted to be the smartest guy my age on the U.S. east coast so that both kids and adults thought I was a freak!" Newt, red-faced and breathing hard, clenches his fists at his sides. "A lot of what I saw inside that head of yours felt awful familiar. We've both always been outsiders. Dude, I get it."
Hermann glares back.
Newt counts to ten.
Hermann's shoulders slump and wings droop. "I apologize. That was unfair and uncaring of me. We do have quite a bit in common when it comes to isolation. I-I've … seen a few of your experiences with it, quite by accident."
"Seriously, Hermann, you really should go through them all. It'll make avoiding arguments like this easier, at least."
"I thought you enjoyed the arguments."
"I enjoy arguing, but this sort of argument sucks."
"We have that in common, as well."
An awkward silence stretches.
Newt snaps his fingers.
Hermann startles.
"Oh, yeah! Tendo wrote me back this afternoon. He's sending over a pair of housekeepers in the morning. You want to instruct them in household etiquette or leave it to me?"
"Two?"
"Yeah. A minion for each of us."
Hermann rolls his eyes. "I'll take care of their orientation. The very last thing you need is a minion."
"You want both minions? Sounds like someone wants to be a supervillain after all."
"May I remind you which of us is feeding leftovers to a carnivorous alien biofilm?"
"Only so I can figure out how to kill it!" Newt grins. "Maybe your cooking will do the trick. Tendo's people can make us food and you can whip up batches of algaecide."
A muscle in Hermann's jaw twitches. "Did Mister Choi mention if these min— new employees have skills beyond cooking?"
"I didn't ask. Guess we'll find out tomorrow morning."
"I suppose so." Hermann smiles slightly. "The overnight weather should be quite pleasant; perhaps we could sleep with the windows open?"
"Sure, but you have to keep me warm with those feather blankets you always carry around."
Hermann offers a crooked smile and raises a wing to make room for Newt.
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