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Three weeks into their working relationship, Newton comes to the lab wearing a dress, and a piece of chalk snaps in Hermann’s fingers.
“Doctor Geiszler,” he says, but his voice sounds strangled, and lacking in the fury he managed that time Newt showed up in a worn horse t-shirt and jean shorts.
Newt looks up at him from where he’s snapping on his rubber gloves. “Morning, Hermann!”
“Your choice of attire,” he says. There are countless choice words he could add, but none of them seem to be coming out of his mouth.
It’s a nice dress. A deep, attractive green sundress, flowing to just above Newt’s knees. The image clashes enormously with his hairy legs and customary leather boots.
“Oh, yeah- I got a new tattoo on my thigh last night, and pants are not conducive to painless new ink. So.” He gestures to his dress. “I’m just glad I remembered to pack ‘em! Summer would be awful if I didn’t have my dresses.”
“Dresses,” Hermann repeats helplessly. Dresses, plural.
There’s a long pause. A hesitant look appears on Newton’s face- he seems nervous about how Hermann is reacting.
Hermann clears his throat. “Are you certain this is...lab-safe clothing?”
Newt brightens. “Oh, totally, dude. You wouldn’t think so, but it so is-”
“I’m only remembering your remarkable talent for splashing kaiju entrails all over the lab.”
“Dude, that was once, and hey, nobody was hurt-”
“My papers were not so fortunate-”
“Holy shit, papers aren’t people-”
When Newt wears a dress to the lab again two weeks later (a dark blue one with white polka dots), Hermann gives up and blows him. His head is entirely under the skirt and Newt’s fingers grip his sweater desperately.
After that, they argue just as much, but Newt catches Hermann smiling more often.
ooo
Newt has insisted Hermann come dress-shopping with him. “Look, man, you dig my dresses, so it’s only fair that you get to pick one out!” he’d said.
“Newton, I have no qualms about admitting that I have dreadful taste in clothing, how on earth would I be of any help to you-”
“Because it’ll be fun! And the store people sometimes look at me weird when I’m by myself.”
So here they are in a Los Angeles mall, where everything is absurdly expensive, even though most of the Hollywood elite have long since abandoned the coast. “I cannot believe you’re going to buy one of these overpriced rags,” Hermann says, scowling. “Most of these aren’t even attractive, for God’s sake.”
“You just gotta know where to look, man, there’s always something good hiding somewhere.”
“I just don’t see- oh. H-hello, Marshall.”
Stacker Pentecost, with a sixteen-year-old Mako by his side, nods at them. “Doctors. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“Same to you,” Newt says. “Hi, Mako.”
Mako’s eyes flick down and take note of Newt’s black pencil skirt. She nods politely at them.
“Miss Mori is accompanying me to a a publicity gala sponsored by the governor of California,” Pentecost continues. “I’ve offered to buy her a new dress for the occasion.”
Newt grins at them. “Oh yeah? You guys found a good one yet?”
“Not so far,” Mako admits. “Nothing is...quite right.”
“Well, you’re not gonna find the right one in this store,” Newt says. “All this stuff? Mm, more on the casual side. Oh! Y’know, there was a store downstairs that was getting rid of the last of its prom dresses, and there’s gotta be one you’ll like in there. I could...” He glances up at Pentecost. “Well, I mean, if the Marshall says it’s all right, we could go down and check ‘em out?”
Mako immediately gives Pentecost a pleading look. He nods silently, and Newt and Mako take off, Mako listening to Newt’s rambling about what color and style would look best on her. Pentecost and Hermann follow at a more sedate pace.
“He certainly seems to know what he’s talking about,” Pentecost says.
Hermann desperately tries to remember if Pentecost has ever seen Newt in a dress or skirt before. He can’t recall if he has, so either Pentecost already knew, or he is very good at not looking surprised. “Oh, you have no idea, sir.”
ooo
“Hermann, Hermann, you’re so tight,” Newt sighs. He takes a hand off Hermann’s hip in order to hitch his dress further up his thigh. “God, Hermann, you’re beautiful.”
Hermann, his cheeks pink, props himself up on his elbows and gives Newt a warm, soft kiss. “The same to you, darling,” he whispers. He gasps as Newt thrusts again, and he wraps his fingers in the yellow fabric of the dress as he comes.
When Newt pulls out, they lie on the bed together, side by side and gasping for air. “God. The day I met you, I never would’ve guessed you get it up for dudes in dresses.”
“Oh, don’t be crass,” Hermann says, rolling over to kiss Newt’s cheek.
“‘Don’t be crass’ he says after I fuck him- Hermann, Hermann, did you get jizz on my dress?”
“I hate that word. Such a foul, dirty word.”
“Yeah, I don’t care- did you get jizz on my dress?”
“I don’t know, did I? Apologies, darling, I’m sure it will come out in the wash.”
“Hermann! You got jizz on a dress my mother gave me!”
“Is that so different from getting...fluids on a dress your mother did not give you?”
“Yes, Hermann! Yes it is!”
“For god’s sake, you should’ve thought of that before you instigated-”
“I instigated? I instigated? Oh, excuse me, Doctor ‘I-can’t-keep-my-hands-off-your-thighs’-”
They manage to continue arguing until they fall asleep, curled around each other.
ooo
Raleigh raises a hand and gestures to Doctors Geiszler and Gottlieb, bickering as they walk down the hall. “Was Doctor Geiszler-?”
Mako blinks, then turns around to catch a glimpse of their backs. “Yes?”
“The- the dress. I’m not crazy, am I?”
“Oh!” Mako nods understandingly. “It has been so long, I hardly notice anymore.”
“So he just...wears dresses sometimes?”
“And skirts. They are surprisingly fashionable.” She leans in conspiratorially. “In my opinion, he looks better in them than he does with his shirts and those skinny ties.”
Raleigh pauses, then nods, and the pair of them continues on their way.