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It was fall and shit. Cambridge was pretty, the leaves were turning colors, the air smelled nice. But Newt was stuck in his office, which was admittedly a pretty sweet office because when he was hired he said, “I want a pretty sweet office,” and they gave him and Herms whatever they wanted back then, so yeah, there was a window overlooking all the nature and the stone buildings and the sky, but the point was, Newt was in his office instead of in a lab elbow-deep in something awesome and gross or in front of an auditorium of students blowing their minds, and holy shitcakes, it was boring.
Office hours weren’t usually boring. Most of the time he had a parade of students in and out asking him stuff, and yeah sometimes it was asinine or just a ploy to flirt, which he got a kick out of but had no time for, but a lot of the time they asked him actual good shit, and he found himself having really kick-ass conversations with people who, if they didn’t necessarily get him, appreciated him. Admired him, even. And he wasn’t too proud to say he liked the ego stroke — who didn’t like a good ego stroke? He liked being a professor. It suited him. Except when no one came to see him.
It was totally weird. Back when he first started here after the war, he’d been so inundated he actually did an experiment to see if time of the week would affect the traffic to his office. He found out that even if he scheduled his office hours for 5pm on a Friday, he had a line out his door. Things had tapered off in the years after the close of the breach, because people had short memories and life went on and he liked that about it, but nevertheless, he could always count on a steady stream. He could count on someone showing up to occupy the whirring of his brain until it was time to call it a day and traipse back home to his favorite surly mathematician. Or, whatever, to the blacksmith dude he’d found to do up the rings he’d commissioned. He was gonna ask Hermann to be his heart’s butt forever at dinner tonight. Or maybe tomorrow. Or maybe next week. Whatever, the point was, he had places to be and people to pay and other people to suck on. He grunted and yanked at his hair before firing up his tablet.
Of course just when he found a funny article about mitochondria he wanted to send to everyone he knew, that’s when someone knocked at his door. Newt threw his tablet across the desk and called out for this person to enter.
“Dude, finally!” he said, spinning around in his desk chair, only to have the words dry up in his mouth, because it was Hermann. Only Hermann like he’d never seen him before.
First of all, those were actual colors he was wearing and not the entire beige spectrum, and they fit, like he’d legit shopped for himself instead of raiding his grandpa’s closet, and they were…fashionable. For someone twenty years younger. He fidgeted and rolled his shoulders inward and came over all shy as he locked the door behind him. Newt’s jaw dropped.
“Professor Geiszler,” Hermann said, fiddling with his cane. “There were some points in your lecture that were too hard for me. I was wondering if you’d help me.” The tip of his tongue flickered out to wet his bottom lip.
And just like that, Newt had a raging boner and no thought in his head for any kind of biology but the kind that ended up with his DNA in, on, and around Hermann’s body.
“Uh. Yeah, sure. I mean, I’m here to help, you know?” Newt kicked out his guest chair. Hermann flashed him a tremulous, grateful smile, set his cane aside, and eased himself down. His eyelashes fluttered for a moment, and his cheeks went a pretty pink, and Newt’s dick threatened to bust the seam of his pants right then and there. Newt cleared his throat and tapped a pen on the desk in time. Hermann made himself small in the chair, and Newt let his eyes rove over that body — lean and firm and, for once, showcased in clothes that fit him. Clothes he’d probably never wear again, the stubborn little fucker. “So — remind me, what’s your name?”
“Hermann. Hermann Gottlieb.” He stuck his hand out, eyes big and earnest, and Newt took it. He let his fingertips linger too long over Hermann’s pulse point, and Hermann blushed again. Newt made a mental note to ask him how he did that shit on cue.
“Hermann, the pleasure is mine. What can I do for you?”
Hermann leaned back and stuck his legs out, thighs spread.
“It’s just, I really need a first, Professor,” he said, coy. “Maybe it’s not so much what you can do for me as…what I can do for you?” Now a be-sneakered foot ran lightly up Newt’s calf. Hermann bit his lip and made big eyes at him. And never let it be said that Newt wasn’t a sucker for those damned eyes.
“I see, I see,” Newt said. “And what might you do to deserve a first-class with honors, Mr. Gottlieb?”
Hermann scooted his chair over and leaned in, hands high up on Newt’s thighs and squeezing.
“I know how to make you feel good, Professor.”
“That doesn’t seem ethically sound, Mr. Gottlieb.”
“Oh, I don’t think you much care for ethics, Professor.” Hermann pushed his hands up Newt’s thighs until he could palm the hard cock straining his zipper. He leaned in until he had insinuated himself bodily between Newt’s spread legs, and he whispered into his ear. “You like any willing hole, don’t you, Dr. Geiszler?”
Newt’s breath caught. He was panting, dick full to bursting, and his mouth was so close to Hermann their lips caught with each word. The incipient kiss throbbed between them but neither closed the distance. The tension was making him lightheaded.
“And who told you that?” Newt whispered back.
“I might have heard a rumor,” Hermann said. Their noses bumped. “I might have…hoped it was true.”
“Do you think about my cock inside you when you’re alone, Mr. Gottlieb?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And when you’re not alone?”
“Always, sir.”
Newt’s breath left him in a growly moan and he stood abruptly only to haul Hermann over his desk and snap his hips into the meager flesh of his clothed ass. Hermann groaned and pushed back.
“Oh shit, pretty, we’re gonna have to gag you,” Newt said.
“No!” Hermann said. “I can — I’ll be quiet, I swear.”
“Can you?”
“Yes!”
“Shush, then.”
Newt ran his hands over Hermann’s slim hips. He checked to make sure there wasn’t any undue pressure on his left leg, but Hermann seemed to be handling that himself, so Newt went ahead with rubbing his dick against Hermann’s ass. Hermann made a tiny, breathy sound and rocked back against him.
Newt really wanted to say some dirty shit. Maybe a gag wouldn’t be a terrible idea for himself, either, but then how would he tell Hermann how sexy he was with Newt’s cock in his ass? So really, there was no gag option, only a whispering option, and a hoping his colleagues weren’t around option.
“Do you think about me while I lecture, Mr. Gottlieb?” He slid his hands underneath Hermann’s hips to reach his buttons. “Do you imagine servicing me while all your classmates watch?”
Hermann whimpered, and Newt had to assume the frantic movement of his head was an enthusiastic nod.
“You’re a filthy boy, Mr. Gottlieb,” Newt said. “What are we gonna do about that?” With that he opened up Hermann’s jeans and hauled them over his ass and halfway down his thighs. Hermann squirmed and then Newt saw it: the slim flared end of their black butt plug, snug against the crack of Hermann’s ass. “Oh fuck, Hermann.” Newt’s voice cracked. “Did you —”
“I wanted to be ready for you, sir,” Hermann rasped.
Newt took a deep breath and steadied himself. He ran his palms over the smooth curves of Hermann’s ass before undoing his own pants.
“Well, Mr. Gottlieb, I can’t say you’re not prepared for class.” He grasped the end of the plug and gave it a light tug. Hermann thrashed against the desk but otherwise didn’t make a sound. A glance at his balls revealed them to be full and tight against the tangle of his jeans and underwear. His dick was straining the fabric and slicking it with pre-ejaculate fluid. Newt gave the butt plug another slow pull and watched the way Hermann’s asshole stretched to give way to the thick bulb inside him before he let go and it was sucked back in. Hermann made fists on the desk top and gave one thump and a gasp before Newt shushed him again. “If you’re not quiet, Mr. Gottlieb, I won’t fuck you, and then what will you do with this hungry little asshole?”
“I’ll be good, Professor, I’ll be so good.”
Newt pushed Hermann’s shirt up to reveal the creamy small of his back. He swept his hands across it and watched Hermann shiver beneath him. And, even though it was breaking character, he couldn’t stop himself from bending over to kiss the dimples just above Hermann’s ass. Hermann spread his legs as far as they would go with his pants hampering him and tilted his hips insistently. Newt chuckled and rubbed his five-day scruff on the little white handfuls of ass before him. He heard Hermann huff into some paperwork. He quivered with the effort of not shoving his ass back into Newt’s face. Newt stood and kicked off his own jeans.
“Good,” Newt said with a pat to each cheek. He took hold of the plug again and wriggled it until Hermann had to muffle a whine with his own fist. “You like that?” Newt asked. “You like being good and stuffed, Mr. Gottlieb?” Frantic nodding, and Newt pulled on the base until Hermann’s hole finally gave way enough to let to widest part of the plug slide out. The plug slid free and Hermann was left panting on the desk, asshole contracting around the emptiness left and leaking out an abundance of lube. Newt suppressed a whimper at the sight and pressed the plug back in hard. Hermann quaked underneath him, fingers scrabbling at the desk, and Newt’s balls ached. He pulled the plug out and shoved it back in over and over until Hermann was writhing and the muscle was loose and pliant and Newt himself was babbling some shit he didn’t even know anymore in a low voice.
Finally, Hermann reached a hand back to pull Newt forward by a hip.
“Please,” he said, “please, Professor.”
The sound of Hermann begging never failed to inspire a hot twisting sensation in Newt’s stomach, two parts lust and one part tenderness, like he’d give him anything he could possibly ask for, anything that was in his power to give — but only after a good hard dicking. Which is what Hermann wanted most of the time anyway, it was super convenient.
“Patience is a virtue, Mr. Gottlieb,” Newt said. He set the butt plug aside, swiped at the excess lube that had gathered in the crack of Hermann’s ass, and slicked his cock with it.
“You’re not very virtuous, Dr. Geiszler,” Hermann said.
“Hmm,” Newt said, sliding the head of his cock into Hermann’s hole and watching him arch up into the contact. “I guess that’s true, my cock up a student’s ass and all.” He pressed his hips forward and buried himself balls-deep. Hermann thrashed and choked off a scream, for which Newt rewarded him with a stroke up his side. “Good boy, being so quiet.” He held Hermann steady with one hand between his shoulder blades and one on his hip. He was glad his desk was some gigantic Edwardian monstrosity that weighed almost as much as a kaiju, because it made no protest when Newt set a vigorous rhythm.
It never quite got old, the sight of his cock disappearing into Hermann’s asshole. Best, of course, was the way Hermann loved getting drilled, how he writhed and swore and just generally took it like a champ. Newt had stopped wondering if he was ever gonna get over it, because it had been three years since he’d first pumped a decade’s worth of longing into Hermann’s ass and he still marveled at being allowed the privilege. He was still thrilled when Hermann held his hand, or flirted with him, or tilted his ass at him in the way that meant Newt better get one of his body parts in it quick or Hermann was gonna be mad. Newt aimed to please, of course.
Hermann shifted enough to get a hand on his own cock, and Newt caught sight of his profile, eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering, mouth open. Newt whimpered and fucked him harder, savoring the tight smooth clench of Hermann’s ass around him.
“Oh shit,” Newt whispered. “Oh shit, Hermann, I’m coming, oh fuck, Hermann.” He gripped Hermann’s hips in both hands and thrust all the way inside before throwing his head back and gasping as his orgasm blasted out of him. He kept fucking into Hermann’s ass even as his breath spiked and his body shook. Hermann was pushing hard into his cock and jerking himself for all he was worth.
When Newt floated back down, Hermann’s hips were working frantically to fuck himself down onto Newt’s cock, but his movements had grown sloppy and desperate.
“Hey, hey, shh, lemme take care of you,” Newt said, and he stilled Hermann with firm hands before pulled out. Hermann gave a pained groan that Newt promptly turned into a delighted one when he pushed the plug back in and gave it a wiggle. Hermann keened, legs shaking, and Newt yanked his bunched pants off, took him by the waist and deposited him in a chair with his ass hanging over the edge.
He blinked hazy eyes at him, but Newt just knelt between his knees, opened up his throat and swallowed his cock down to the root. Hermann made a strangled gurgling sound and buried his hands in Newt’s hair, which was always awesome. Newt didn’t go for finesse — Hermann was beyond that — he just went for hard suction and lots of spit while he pushed the widest part of the plug in and out of Hermann’s asshole. Hermann’s fingers convulsed in Newt’s hair and he stiffened. Newt sucked hard and got a mouthful of bitter come that flooded his throat and made his eyes water. He swallowed the whole load and kept sucking until Hermann weakly batted him away and slumped boneless and panting into the chair.
Newt sat back and wiped his mouth, breathing hard. Hermann was half out of the chair and contorted; it couldn’t be comfortable or good for his hip. Newt stood on jelly legs and then pulled Hermann up only to ease them both down into his much bigger and cushier office chair with Hermann in his lap. He nuzzled his neck while Hermann pretended to grump.
“I’m not a child,” he grumbled even as he wound an arm around Newt’s neck.
“Thank fuck for that,” Newt said, reaching down to tap at the plug still lodged up Hermann’s ass. Hermann yelped. “Want me to take it out?” Newt asked.
“No,” Hermann said too quickly, and Newt raised his eyebrows. Hermann got the shifty eyes and his cheeks went somehow redder than they already were. “I want to hold your come in.”
Newt groaned and let his head fall against Hermann’s shoulder. “You’re gonna kill me, dude.”
“I hope not,” Hermann said. “I have plans.”
Newt smiled into Hermann’s collar and squeezed him. He took a deep breath of Hermann, who smelled like autumn air and sex sweat, but also like himself, which Newt wanted to bottle and drink and rub himself with, not that anyone had to know. He suspected Hermann knew anyway. Hermann’s hand was in his hair, stroking through idly. Then, Newt had a thought.
“Hey!” He poked Hermann in the stomach. “This was a set up! No one came to my office hours, it was the worst. How did you plan this, you sexy dick?”
Hermann smirked.
“I do code, Newton,” he said. “Honestly, you’d think you’d know that by now.”
“You hacked my shit.”
“Oh, as if you don’t leave your accounts open around the house anyway.”
“Herms. How naughty of you.”
Hermann rolled his eyes.
“Yes, my posing as you and canceling your office hours for the day is the naughty part of this entire endeavor.”
Newt hummed and kissed up Hermann’s neck. Hermann sighed and shifted in his lap, hand sliding over his cheek as he brought their mouths together. They kissed for a long time, savoring, coming down. Afterward, Newt hugged Hermann tight and whispered in his ear that he was a sexy motherfucker and Newt loved him very much. Hermann made that face he had, the one where he was trying really hard not to smile all big, but he never succeeded, and he ended up just looking so happy, but bashful about it.
“Marry me,” Hermann said in a rushed breath.
Newt froze.
He pulled back to look Hermann in the face. Hermann was blushing hard again, but he met Newt’s gaze full-on and tilted his chin up, mouth a determined little downward sloping line.
“Are you for real right now?” Newt said.
“Yes,” Hermann said, looking more like a man bravely facing his death than a man asking another man to be his hand-holding-on-the-couch-friend for life.
“No!”
Hermann scowled. “What?”
“No!” Newt squawked. “I had plans! I was gonna do it! I got this dude to make us special rings from scrapped Mark I parts!”
Hermann’s eyes went big. “Really?”
“Oh my God, yes, really!”
And then Hermann began to laugh, and when he laughed it was pretty funny all by itself, and his laughing face was the best thing Newt ever saw, so Newt had to laugh too, and they sat there laughing until their bellies hurt and Hermann was sprawled alone in the big chair because Newt had melted onto the floor.
Time sort of shorted out and became a weird funny sagging molasses strand while Newt and Hermann gave in to the hysterics, but when it died down and only little chuckles were slipping out now and again, Newt found Hermann draped over him on the floor, bad leg slung over both of Newt’s, hand on his chest, thumb tracing lazily over a pulse point.
“Hey Hermann?” Newt said.
“Hm.”
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” Hermann said. “Will you marry me?”
“Yeah.”
“Good then.”
Newt laughed again, just a little, and he slid his hand over Hermann’s on his chest. Hermann turned his over and they tangled their fingers together.
“I’m glad it was you, at the end of the world,” Hermann said quietly. Newt shivered, remembered his first taste of intimacy with Hermann: a mainline to his gorgeous, riotous, vibrant brain.
“I’m selfish,” Newt said. “Because I’m just — glad. I wouldn’t have met you without the kaiju. I’m selfish.”
“That’s not how things work, Newton.”
“What do you mean?”
“The kaiju happened; one cannot go back and try to view the events of history as some kind of fork of fortune, one timestream true and one timestream deviant. There is only the reality that is here and now. To feel guilt over the good things that transpired amid or even because of the tragedy that changed the world… well. It won’t be the first time I’ve accused you of lacking logic, and I daresay it won’t be the last.”
“You and your philosophical mathiness. You gonna crack time travel anytime soon? Only, I have some things I want to see.”
“That’s classified.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“I need to get up off this floor.”
And so they did, and they cleaned up, and they made sure there wasn’t drool and lube and pre-come everywhere, and they blamed each other when there was, and they walked out hand in hand into the beautiful fall and shit, and the world turned undisrupted by interdimensional cracks in spacetime, and humanity was safe from everything but itself, and Newt was happy.