Trust, secret missions, Akira, and cookies in bed

Chapter 12: Trust, secret missions, Akira, and cookies in bed
==Text==
Despite a promising start, Newt sleeps poorly, waking every few hours, fretting over the previous day. The kiss eats away at him. 
What the hell was I thinking? he scolds himself. I almost blew everything right there. You don’t do that without asking, especially when you’re dealing with someone like Hermann. Especially after he confesses his last relationship imploded because his significant other wanted to move too fast. Or wanted something he didn’t. 
But … he let me back in. He let me back in bed. My stuff’s back in the closet and bathroom. Why did he let me back in? 
Throwing me out was reflex. He’s been so lonely and so afraid of letting other people get close, there wasn’t anything else he could see to do. Whatever he wanted—if he even let himself want it—he had to do what he taught himself to do. But now he’s trusting me to be different. 
He … trusts me. He trusts me. He trusted me with his life. He trusts me with his secret. He trusts me with his health. It’s sappy, but he trusts me with his heart now. I can’t let him down. 
I can do this. I’ve faced down kaiju bare-handed and saved humanity from an alien invasion. I can take care of one grumpy, scared British mathematician. 
Newt rolls over to study Hermann’s face. He moves a hand to stroke Hermann’s hair, but freezes before it’s covered half the distance. Consent, he reminds himself. He contents himself with soaking up the shared warmth caught under Hermann’s wing while he waits for the other man to wake. 
The first hint Newt gets that Hermann is awake is a dainty fluttering of his wings. Hermann blinks his eyes as he tries to focus on Newt. "How long have you been staring at me?" he asks groggily. 
"A while," Newt answers with a sly smile. 
"See anything you like?" 
"Yeah. That’s the whole reason I was staring." 
Hermann blinks more forcefully as the implication of the exchange sinks in. "What have I let myself in for?" he mumbles. 
"I’m not sure yet, Hermann, but it should probably start with meds, a shower, and some breakfast." 
Hermann excuses himself after they finish their meal in the mess, saying he needs to pop into the city on an errand and politely turns down Newt’s offer to accompany him. He walks off, looking straighter and stronger to Newt than he has since Christmas, and Newt directs his own steps to the lab. On the way he thinks how odd it seems for Hermann to head into the city at all, let alone on his own. He almost never leaves the base. 
The lab feels empty without Hermann and the constant scratching of his chalk. Did it always feel this way or is this new? Newt wonders. 
Work needs to be done, ends tied up, but Newt’s heart isn’t in it. He pokes indifferently at one of his last kaiju samples until he hears the ‘new mail’ chime on his tablet. He scoots his office chair over to the table where he left it and quickly reads the new message. 
"Yes! I. AM. AWESOME!" he yells to the empty room, raising both hands over his head and waving them in triumph. At least, he thought it was an empty room. 
"Am I interrupting your daily ego-stroking session, Newton?" Hermann deadpans as he walks to his main desk carrying a small package wrapped in brown paper under his arm. 
"Nah. That was earlier. I was congratulating myself on a job well done, but I can’t tell you what it was yet." 
"Oh dear, how will I endure the suspense?" Hermann says with a theatrical gesture. "If you’ll excuse me, I’m headed back to my quarters. My errand seems to have taken more out of me than I anticipated." 
"Dude, you should know your limits better by now," Newt calls over his shoulder before he spins around and realizes Hermann is already out of earshot. "Jeez, he’s moving fast for a guy who says he’s sore," Newt mumbles. 
Newt spots the package Hermann brought with him sitting on of the worktables. Dude was in such a hurry he left it behind, he thinks. He gets up and walks over to the package, planning to pick it up and return it to Hermann, and reaches for it, only half-paying attention. He almost misses seeing the label written in Hermann’s twitchy scrawl. 
It reads ‘Happy birthday, Newt’. 
Newt stares in shock. He remembered my birthday. Even I forgot today is my birthday. And he called me ‘Newt’, which is a miracle and a present in itself. 
Curiosity burning, Newt tears through the paper. He finds the third volume of Akira, a replacement for the only book that was ruined when a water pipe in his quarters started leaking the year before. Newt had been too busy to track down a copy. 
This … this was too goddamn sweet. 
Newt makes a phone call then grabs his tablet and the book and strolls back to their room, after a brief detour to the mess hall. He knocks and lets himself in, book under his arm, and singsongs "I brought cookies!" 
Hermann sighs and looks up from his reading and over his glasses at Newt. He sits on the bed shirtless with his back to the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him, a hot water bottle resting across his bad knee. "Oh good. I was so looking forward to spending an evening with a Newton Geiszler nursing a sugar rush." 
"You’re lucky they didn’t have cake," Newt replies. Hermann snorts. "Seriously, these are to tide us over until dinner gets here." 
"You’re not eating those in bed. You’ll get crumbs everywhere." 
Newt rolls his eyes. "Then get out of bed and eat one before your blood sugar crashes and you get even crankier." Hermann clears his throat and inclines his head toward his knee. "Or you could just go wild and eat a cookie in bed," Newt says. Hermann grumbles but accepts the food and nibbles at it. 
Three-quarters of an hour later, Newt’s phone gives a tiny roar. "I can’t believe you use that sound as a ringtone," Hermann remarks. 
Newt looks offended. When he disconnects, he says "I’ll have you know that’s the first kaiju sound ever recorded. It’s a bit of history!" 
"It’s obnoxious." 
"We’ll finish this later. I have to go collect our food," he says and darts out the door. 
Newt returns with an armful of takeout boxes. "Best Indian in the district," he crows. "I got your favorite." 
"What’s the occasion?" Hermann asks, peering into one of the boxes searching for the promised saag paneer. 
"Don’t play dumb, Mister I’m-going-to-leave-a-really-sweet-present-for-you-to-find-but-pretend-to-know-nothing-about-it," Newt orders as he scootches across the bed to sit next to Hermann. 
"I take it you approve of my selection?" Hermann focuses very thoroughly on his meal. 
"I love it. Now that I have the whole set again, you need to read it." Hermann laughs a little. "You know you want to," Newt teases. 
They finish the meal in companionable silence and sit reading side-by-side until they tire. Newt notices he and Hermann are passing a yawn back and forth and pulls the tablet out of Hermann’s hands and takes his glasses away. Hermann protests with a sleepy noise, but Newt ignores him and gets up to stow the items and collect Hermann’s evening medications. 
As Newt turns off the lights and slips into bed, he says "Don’t take the Oxford job, Hermann. Or any other job. Yet. Please?" 
"Why not?" 
"I’m working on something better." 
"Congratulations, Newton," Hermann says as he finishes arranging himself for the night. "I hope it's what you've been searching for, but I fail to see what your job prospects have to do with my future employment." 
"I’m working on something better for both of us," Newt corrects himself. "Promise me you’ll give me a week to set it up and pitch it to you." 
"I suppose a week couldn’t hurt," Hermann concedes. 
"Thanks, dude. And stop hogging all that wing. It’s cold over here." 
Hermann sighs and stretches his wing a little further over Newt.
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