Movie scripts, politics, playmates, sunshine, and tropical island getaways

Chapter 7: Movie scripts, politics, playmates, sunshine, and tropical island getaways
==Text==
Newt wakes first with a stiff shoulder from holding Hermann all night. He moves his arm only to have Hermann blink into consciousness a moment later. "Sorry," Newt whispers. "Didn’t mean to wake you."
"It’s nothing," Hermann replies. Newt waits for a snarky comment that never arrives. Instead the two men stare at each other for an uncomfortable interval. Newt, predictably, breaks the silence.
"You know, I was thinking … ."
"Shall I alert the media to this rare occurrence? Or would Medical be the wiser choice?"
"Shut up, Hermann," Newt sighs. "I’ve been thinking your life reads like a science fiction movie. Seriously. Clones, genetic engineering, mad scientists, giant alien monsters, enormous robots. All you need now is to get the girl and we’ll have a script!" Newt smiles and laughs at his joke. Hermann’s lips thin.
"Get out of my way, Newton," he snarls and shoves lightly at him. "I have work to do." Newt scrambles off the bed and watches with a little confusion as Hermann locks himself in the bathroom. 
While he listens to the shower run, Newt starts to check his email and freezes. The girl. There’s never been a girl for him. Or a boy. Or anyone. He doesn’t think there could be anyone. Well, he does have me now. That must count for something. Maybe. Sort of. Whatever. He runs his fingers through his hair. I should probably be extra nice to him this morning, he thinks.
"I made you a pot of tea and loaded The Standard for you," he says when Hermann reappears. "I’ll wrap you up when I’m done with my shower."
Hermann studies him suspiciously for a moment, then nods and sits to skim the headlines, sipping his tea. The UN has called for hearings on the end of the kaiju war. Pointless. He would be invited and have to sit there, polite and obedient, a good little soldier, and listen to the idiocy. As Marshal Hansen says, they are nothing but suits and ties and flashy smiles. Of course, his father would also attend and (if there is any justice in the world) face a grilling for the Wall’s failure at Sydney. Mood lowered further, he gives up on the news and switches to his email.
The first message comes from Marshal Hansen. He reads it three times before he feels certain he understands it. Hermann rests his forehead on his crossed arms on the desktop as he waits for Newt to return and bind his wings, meditatively flexing the uninjured one. I didn’t think it would be so soon. Why can’t I have a little more time?
"Newton," he asks, trying to keep his voice level as he watches the man search the fridge and cupboard for food. "Did you see the memo informing us the Shatterdome will be returned to the city at the end of February?"
"Yeah. Guess we need to start packing."
"We need to start searching for alternate employment."
"Shouldn’t be much of a problem, right? Every university and lab on the planet wants a piece of us."
"I suppose that’s true," Hermann admits grudgingly.
"I’ve already started a list of benefits I want written into my contract." 
Hermann remains silent while Newt finishes the bindings and babbles on about nothing in particular, a stream of words that continues all the way to the lab and throughout the workday.
"I can’t believe I let you convince me to go to the mess," Hermann grouses as they return to what Newt has started calling (at least in his own mind) their room.
"I’m sick of playing delivery boy. It wasn’t so bad, was it?" Newt wheedles.
"I felt naked," Hermann murmurs.
Newt laughs loudly. "You’re wearing more layers than an onion, about as far from ‘naked’ as a human being can get!"
Hermann makes a derisive sound as he strips down to his wrappings. "It probably feels as alien for me to go without it as it would for you to suddenly find yourself covered in nothing more than freckles." Newt hesitates and blinks. "It’s hardly surprising. I’ve worn a binder regularly for thirty years, much longer than you’ve been inked."
"Thirty years."
"My disfigurement had to be hidden from my tutors."
"You’re not disfigured. I told you to stop saying that."
Hermann rolls his eyes. "Very well. My wings had to be hidden from my tutors and from anyone outside my family." He pauses to look at Newt. "Happy now?" 
"I’ll take what I can get," he answers with a shrug. "Homeschooled, huh?" Newt prompts as he re-secures Hermann’s splint and unwinds the gauze from Hermann’s other wing.
Hermann flexes his released wing and sighs. "Yes, I was, until I entered university."
"That’s why you’re alone in all those childhood memories I saw. No classmates, no neighborhood kids." Newt pauses in thought, replaying shared memories, as Hermann nods. "If no one could see your wings, dude, when was the last time you were outside with your shirt off?"
"It was before we moved to the city. I was seven." With that, Hermann steps into the bathroom and closes the door.
"When we get our bonuses for saving the world," Newt declares as Hermann returns to the living area and climbs into bed, "we’re renting a tropical island and running around topless for at least a month."
"I doubt our severance pay will cover anything quite so extravagant, Newton."
"I’m not so sure. The value of oceanfront property will probably take a while to rebound. Besides, I can always write it into my contract for my new job. ‘Doctor Newton Geiszler will not begin work at our establishment until he has finished a month-long tropical island getaway with Doctor Hermann Gottlieb on our dime.’" He stops to savor his own words as he curls up beside Hermann. "I think it’ll work."
"I don’t know whether I should wish for your success or failure at those negotiations."
"One of these days, dude, you’re going to stop doubting me."
Hermann snorts and offers his wing. Newt hums his thanks and drifts off thinking about how Hermann hadn’t said ‘no’.
==Meta==
The Standard is Hong Kong’s main English-language newspaper.
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