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[ Voiced or not, he still feels the dig in there, between the lines.

He slams the taxi door harder than necessary and pays the driver, then comes around the back of the taxi and hops onto the curb. ]

Oh, sure, heaven forbid you turn into soccer mom.

For the record, you ARE taken seriously--I take you seriously, so DAMN seriously, sometimes, I don't know where the act ends and the man begins! Every so often, Hermann...I just-- [When Hermann talks about his projects or interests and gets that giddy sparkle in his eyes; when he kisses Newt and doesn't worry so much about the audience; when he's nervous and soft, or angry fire and passion, instead of cold, granite -- That's when he's the most like the man in the letters. Newt still sometimes has trouble reconciling his notions of what Hermann was then, was not that long ago, is now, and actually IS. Clearly he's not done a good job this time, either.]

[The tense set of his shoulders softens, sympathetic to Newton's frustration. He offers out a hand to him (something he'd told himself he wouldn't do not moments ago) and steps closer]

You know, I.. I still remember when you yelled at that J-technician in my defense. I convinced myself it was pity then, and proved rather ungrateful in the moment. But I did appreciate it, even if I never said anything. Perhaps if I'd simply expressed as much, we could have been friends long ago.

[ Newt stares, confused by the olive branch of Hermann's hand and more confused by the memory. Not because it has no place in this conversation--it does, at least he thinks it does--but because once upon a time, a row like this would have lasted all the way back to the apartment. The day would have been ruined. It would not have ended like this.

Every inch of Newt wants to casually brush off the feelings, be flippant, or to even accept with a well-balanced 'Maybe if we both could've gotten our heads out of our asses, we could have been friends sooner.'

But that doesn't really cover what was actually being expressed. Newt is sort of getting it this time, even with his own understanding of social cues and feelings being terrible. Something needs to be spelled out, he thinks. Or maybe he just wants to repeat it and it doesn't matter if Hermann already knows.

He takes Hermann's hand.]

I may suck at showing it, but I do respect you, Hermann--and I don't say that for anything in return-- You just need to know: you're amazing. You've always been amazing. Behind the sweater vests and--and I wish you didn't feel you have to work so hard to make people see that.

I... [Is he reading this right? He's not, is he. Newt plows forward anyway.] ...I'm sorry. About my preconceptions. They are pretty baseless. I don't...really know what you like or anything. But, hey, you know, since we're best friends, if you want to talk about stuff...? Maybe over ice cream?

[Honest emotions have always been uncharted territory for them. They each have their defenses and shortcomings; Newton's bluster and his own reticence. It's a difference in expression that inevitably leads to frequent miscommunication, and compromise is still new to them.

There's still a few crossed wires between them, but although it's stilted and awkward, this is them trying.]

I know, Newton. I know that now. Just as I'm fond of you yet frequently fail to express as much.

[But he's really trying. Kissing Newton on New Years, letting him hold his hand in public. Maybe it's still a far cry from a love declaration, but it's progress]

And yes, perhaps we need to do more of this 'getting to know you' business. [The barest hint of a smile twitches at his lips]

A blue sedan Newton, really.

[ His smile is very charmed, somewhat hesitant, curious, like a kid who is offered an intriguing toy but is still afraid it will be pulled away from him.

And then the smile is broken as he flushes with embarrassment and flails a little and flaps his hand at Hermann. ]

Wha- Look! It could be a Mercedes-Benz, I don't know, whatever passes as a luxury sized sedan and says "I'm classy and sophisticated and you need to respect me." I'm not saying you need some crappy Ford Taurus-- You market yourself as this ...this really straight-laced uptight, kind of traditional guy, but sometimes I'm convinced there's a hot-rod under that hood, just begging to get on a nice Autobahn straightaway and--

[He continued to talk and led the way down the sidewalk of the little mall, not really intent on going anywhere, but maybe they'd find ice cream like planned. Or get a coffee because why the hell not. Easier to talk over coffee than sushi anyway. They would take the sushi home.]

I'm all for more of this 'getting to know you' business. All for it. Bring it. Although, you know, this car thing is kind of feeling like a dumb meme and, now that I think about it, I'm cool with that. I mean, if it helps as an ice-breaker, I'm cool with it. So the question is, what kind of car are you, Hermann? If we're playing this meme honestly, I'm totally a mini-Cooper with flames and pin-striping who is totally powered by an energizer battery and wants everyone to think he can race at Monte Carlo, but can actually barely get uphill. Which you knew already. You knew. So what are you?

[Hermann listens and allows Newton for awhile, until he realizes the man actually has no direction in mind and steers them toward a pair of doors into the mall itself.

He shrugs off his hood and finds himself increasingly bemused by Newton's comparisons. It's all too easy to picture, but he does stumble over representing himself through a vehicle and hums thoughtfully]

Well, perhaps a Mercedes isn't too far off. All posh elegance, but so heavily modified that it fails to adhere to its initial design as a luxury vehicle. So it drives along at a sedate 50 kilometers per hour to impress, but get it on a long stretch of freeway and it flies.

Edited 2016-01-06 01:11 (UTC)

I don't think I've ever dated a Mercedes-Benz before. [He wiggles the collar/zipper of his jacket as if straightening it out and making himself more 'presentable.'] You're like a Bond car hiding under a luxury sedan shell--like the guy I took to the Masquerade.

[ Newt looks up at him, contemplating kissing him. Posh elegance indeed. Instead he flips back up the hood over Hermann's head and quickly steps out of reach of any initial cane swing with a laugh. ]

[The comparison affords him another smile, one that's swiftly lost in Newton's childish glee. He brandishes his cane, but makes no concentrated effort to hit Newton with it. Hermann tugs his hood back down and throws Newton a fond, exasperated look.

He pulls the door open and gestures Newton through it for a change.]

While we're on the subject then, please tell me your favorite color isn't kaiju Blue.

[He will never tire of being the cause of those fond, exasperated looks. Newt accepts the held open door with a playful nod/bow at Hermann. ]

I like it a lot, but no. The favorite color of the minute is green. Yours is maroon, right? That's what you said? Maybe I should have gotten the parka in maroon.

[That gets a grimace, because just no]

No need for that. Just because I like it doesn't mean I want to see it on everything. [He lets the door swing shut behind them and breathes in the warm air with a sigh]

Not quite like Mr. Qubit and his green coats. But I will keep that in mind for your future gifts- unless of course that changes.

It changes often enough. Black and white are always safe bets. I never want to be Qubit level of favorite-color-devotion. [ Newt makes a face. ]

You want some ice cream? I was serious about the cliches, but I mean, we could be like teenagers and get boba and that's good too. [ He casually wraps an arm around Hermann's waist. ] Come on, Hermann, lets be kids together.

[It's likely only due to the drift that they can walk like this without any practice. But Newton matches his pace perfectly even with the tap of his cane and it's oddly simple. They do garner looks of course and much like holding hands, Hermann tries not to be too conscious of them]

It's your cliche scenario. Whichever one you'd prefer is agreeable.

It's yours, too, now. You're stuck with me and all my cliches. Well, you're stuck with my everything now, but specifically, this time, with my cliches.

I suppose I am.

[Though really, he's been stuck with Newton's 'everything' and vice versa since their assignment in Hong Kong.]

Alright, we'll go for the 'tea' then.

[Newt had been thinking 'since they first arrived in this world' but Hong Kong was equally accurate, and the thought makes him again excited for their trip. He needs to figure out how to hide the watch in his luggage.

He steers them down the mall towards the sushi place where they can pick up both their treats at once. Partway there, he just gets giddy thinking about he fact that they're stuck with each other. And that's good, that's really good, he thinks...except that Hermann probably wouldn't be dating him now if he hadn't basically...had Newt stuck so far in his head that Hermann felt that dating anyone else was impossible.

He tries to shake the rather persistent thought.]

I'm stuck with your cliches and stuff too, you know, so if you think of things you want to do as dates or whatever, you let me know. I'm cool with lots of stuff.

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