Never Let Me Go AU: Don't change that beautiful face!
The first session of surgery is the worst. Newton warned it would be bad and- it is. They pushed it forwards as far as they could and Hermann has barely been with Newton two days before he’s taken to the little backstreet surgery and-
And that’s all there is, for a while. Until he opens his eyes some blank time later and his face is a numb devouring hole of pain.
They cut down the bones of his jaw, smoothing them to a sharp point. The cartilage of his nose worn down to get rid of that distinctive bump. They will be back next week, to work more on the muscles, then another week later they’ll finish the skin and it’ll be- over.
He will never see his.. his.. owner again. No matter how far he could run, he would always see him, that mocking face in the mirror. No more. He’ll wear the bandages for three weeks, then they’ll go and he will be- himself. For the first time.
Hermann smiles wearily. Newton puts down a steaming bowl of soup in front of him, a basket of soft, home-made bread. Oh, it’s wonderful, it’s blissful. No energy bars, reconstituted and tasteless. This was every dream he had once had, everything he had read about in his precious, stolen books. He soaked the bread in the thick broth and ate, soft food not to aggravate his healing jaw, the flavour bursting bright and glorious until he could only close his eyes and revel in it.
When he opens them again, Newton is grinning at him. “You know how to appreciate good cooking.” He tops up Hermann’s glass, it’s beer, and he isn’t supposed to drink, but Hermann’s spent twenty something years doing what he’s supposed to do. It’s sharp and bitter and he loves it.
“I look forwards to meeting you.” Newton says, sitting down opposite him. “When all that comes off.” He waves at Hermann’s bandages.
Maybe the alcohol wasn’t such a good idea, Hermann yawns, suddenly exhausted. “So do I,” he says absently.
He’s almost dozing by the time he finishes his soup, nodding off over his empty bowl, feeling the delicious heat of it soak through his stomach. “Hey.” A hand on his shoulder.
Hermann starts awake. “I wasn’t sleeping!”
Newton blinks. Hermann shakes his head. Here. Now. Safe. “I’m sorry-” He starts.
“Nah, it’s okay.” Newton smiles. “Want me to see you home?”
Hermann smiles back, the skin of his face tight and sore, pulling taut on bloody bone. It’s worth it. Newt leads him to the little guest bedroom just off the kitchen, the warm one, right behind the stove. With the overstuffed bed and the window overlooking Newton’s crazed garden and the door.
Newton doesn’t try to go in, even though it’s his house and he could just go in, he waits for Hermann to open the door, and makes no move to go in. It’s such a small thing, but Hermann could almost cry for it. He glances back at Newt for a moment, a quiet thanks and a goodnight-
And there’s something in Newton’s eyes, a sort of uncertainty and hunger and want and- oh.
Hermann blinks and for a moment, something cold trickles down his throat, locks in his stomach. No-
But Newton will not even go into his room without permission, let alone feel entitled to- anything else. But even though Hermann nods stiffly and slips in without a word, he only feels safe when the door is closed, and can only try and calm down when he’s pushed the chest of draws in front of the door and sits down against it, heart racing.
It wouldn’t- have been the first time, of course. Hermann hugs himself and shivers. He reaches up and touches probing fingers to his face.
Pain flares up, but he ignores it. Let it hurt. Let it hurt and leave scars. Let him be fearful and hideous and never be looked at in desire again.