keep me

Rating: T
Pairing: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Summary:
"Newt and Hermann make dinner together"


When Hermann walks into their apartment, the first thing he notices is the blaring music. Something rock, by the sound of it, the singer's voice high and loud. Hermann smiles as he rounds the corner and catches sight of Newton bouncing along to the beat.

When the other catches sight of him, he brightens. "Hermann!" he calls, "hey, dude, how was work?"

"Oh, you know," Hermann replies, shrugging off his coat and hanging it up; shifting his grip on his cane minutely—his fingers are stiff from the cold. "The usual."

Newton's lips quirk. "So the students are still scared of you, huh?"

"I can't fathom why, honestly." He makes his way over to the other; eyes the bowl in his hands, covered in flour. "What are you doing?"

Newton hums. "Gimme a kiss and I'll tell you."

"Demanding doesn't become you, darling," Hermann teases; but acquiesces; leaning over to press a chaste kiss to Newton's lips.

The other hums. "I'm making dinner," he says, finally; "noodles."

"Oh?"

"Do you wanna help?"

"I was going to work on some grading, but…"

"Oh. Well then." Newton deflates. "I won't keep you."

Hermann's heart twists; and he blurts, feeling like he's twenty and talking to Newton for the first time again, "I'd rather you did."

Puzzlement blooms across his husband's face. "Did what?"

"Keep me," Hermann clarifies. "I'd rather help you with sooner than work on grading just yet."

"Oh!" Newton grins. "Okay. Okay. Well, how about you grab the bar stool and roll out this dough while i make the sauce?"

"That sounds like a good plan," Hermann agrees; and does as directed; perching himself on the stool, rolling-pin in hand; takes the bowl from Newton, who sprinkles a handful of flour onto the counter. Hermann smiles at him gratefully and sets the dough down, setting about rolling the dough out. It's hard at first—the dough wants to spring back to its original shape—but eventually, it gives, thinning out.

The sound of oil heating, hissing and spitting behind him creates a comfortable white noise; the scent of onions and spices rising, pleasantly encompasses the kitchen. Newton begins to hum along to the music again for a bit, before he pauses and asks, "Do you ever think about how wild it is?"

Hermann pauses in his task. "What is?"

Newton shrugs; pausing in his stirring for a moment to heft the large pot out of the cupboard and runs the water, bubbling into the pot. "That we're here, I mean," he clarifies. "I mean…we spent twelve years trying to make sure the world didn't end. I dunno about you, but I never really thought I'd get…domesticity, you know?"

Hermann's heart aches again. "I know," he says, softly, setting the rolling-pin down. "It always seemed so—frantic. In the moment. We were living day to day at the best of times."

Newton chuckles; mirthless. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah. God. It was…it was awful."

"It was," Hermann agrees. "But…" he hesitates; before speaking: "I'm glad for the things that came of it. Not to, to downplay the harm it caused," he hastens to add, "but…I met some of the best people because of it. Tendo, Mako, the Kaidanovkys, the Wei brothers…you."

The other turns around; ignoring the crackle of the pot behind him; a crooked smile spreading across his face. "Me?" he asks, batting his lashes.

Hermann laughs; abandons the noodle dough to beckon Newton forward. The other follows; and Hermann lends forward, one hand to Newton's hip, the other to his cheek. "We're married," he says, "I should hope it's you. Now go turn the sauce down before it burns."

"Aren't you going to kiss me?"

Hermann sniffs. "Not if you burn dinner."

Newton pouts. "Fine," he whines, and turns around, turning the stove down. Hermann takes that time to begin cutting the noodles into long strips; the knife against the stainless steel counter creating little friction.

Newton returns to his side. "Now are you gonna kiss me?" he asks; and Hermann smiles and aquisces.

"There," he says, "now help me get these noodles into the pot."

Newton hands him his cane. "Alright," he says, and begins to peel the noodles off the counter, carrying a few over to drop into the roiling water. Together, they manage to get it done relatively quickly; and then they're left standing together in the middle of the kitchen, both slightly flushed from the heat.

"We should probably open the windows," Newton says.

"Wait," Hermann commands; and Newton stills. He reaches forward, brushing a stray lock of hair away from Newton's forehead. "There we go," he says, approvingly.

Newton lets out a burst of laughter. "You're ridiculous, dude," he says; and makes his way over to the window, pulling it open. The cold, fresh air races in, leaving Hermann's eyes watering for a moment. "Better?" asks the other.

Hermann nods. "Quite," he says.

Soon, the noodles are done as well; and Newton gets out the bowls, handing them to Hermann so he can serve them; and they sit down at the small dining table.

For a few moments, they eat in silence, and then Newton says, "You know, I'm kinda glad you ignored your grading."

"Oh?" Hermann raises a brow. "Encouraging procrastination, are we?" he says; teasing.

"Shut up," Newton grumbles; but he's smiling. "No, it was just…nice. We haven't cooked together in a while. I dunno, I guess I just kinda missed it."

"I think I may have as well," Hermann agrees. "And besides, it was quite enjoyable. Even if," he adds, "you did almost burn the sauce."

"Shut up," Newton commands; but his eyes are twinkling; and they fall into an easy rapport over the rest of the—truly delicious—meal.