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There is talking around the town when Florence disappears.

Percival supposes it speaks many things that people aren’t overly worried about his wife. That they look at him with an open pity in their gaze and assure him she’ll return in no time. Percival is an auror and he takes the steps to file a missing persons report at the proper office. Susan smiles at him with the same tight look she has when they have to give bad news. But she accepts his forms and promises to put someone on it as soon as they can.

“I do work here,” he tells her lightly. “I know how the processes works.”

“Of course,” Susan offers him that same forced smile.

It sets the tone, people avoid him and the conversation of his missing wife. Eyes follow him as he went about his day. People in the shops whisper furiously. Out of morbid curiosity, Percival uses the spells aurors use to investigate. Spying spells people would mutter bitterly.

“It’s such a shame, he is a nice man if a bit grim.”

“And those poor children.”

“Oh, those poor darlings.”

“Honestly though, they might have a happier childhood without her.”

The children take the disappearance with a worrying sort of acceptance. Of all the things that happened with Florence going missing, this is the thing that upsets Percival the most. He knows his wife was far from the perfect mother; Florence had children out of obligation rather than desire. They had nannies who took care of the kids from the moment they were born. But Florence was still the one who raised them, he had thought. He knows she had her hobbies, committees she sat on and various volunteer projects in the city. Percival benefits from it all as well, his family name only raised more with a wife invested in the magical community. But some part of Percival had thought his wife balanced that life and motherhood. He worries a bit, but the kids seem fine and so he lets them be.

Credence and Tina are more upset when their nanny resigns and that tells Percival so much more. The older woman sadly explains that her young daughter had unexpectedly found herself with child and needs help. Percival has heard the unkind rumours, and so he dismisses the nanny in order to give her a lofty severance pay. Margaret cries when he tells her, a deep worry for her daughter and grandchild’s future in her gaze seeming to fade. She thanks Percival profusely and promises to return to work the moment she can.

So Percival is left with a missing wife who the majority of the town and his coworkers are sure had run off with another man, and no nanny to mind his two children.

To say it's daunting would be putting it mildly. Percival’s career as an auror is by nature stressful and now his personal life is thrown into disarray.

 

“A nanny,” Prometheus muses. Percival prefers to keep his life private, but he and Prometheus have worked side by side as aurors for well over a decade. The man always has a bright smile and easy attitude to parallel Percival’s much more serious and sober outlook. Despite being able to intimidate the rest of the office, he had never managed to do so with the other man. Prometheus remains his cheerful friend by sheer determination and over the years had worn Percival down.

“Little Credence and Tina must be older now, out of diapers?”

“Six and eight,” Percival replies, fighting a yawn. Credence had been up all night sobbing and begging Percival to keep the nanny from leaving them.

“Tina mostly minds Credence really, she’s a doting sister,” he adds.

“Well, I can’t offer any professional recommendations, but my youngest is looking for some sort of work, hoping for a year or so to save up enough before he goes off on his big adventure.”

Newton Scamander had planned to be a magizoologist since he was five. Percival has to admit he admires the boy’s fierce dedication; his parents and brother had never been able to talk him out of it. It isn't a bad career but certainly not a comfortable one either. It will be hard to find steady work in such a small and precise field. But the lad loves magical creatures and wants to spend his life studying them and is dead set on doing so. He has spoken of going out and doing field work for years, travelling the world to find all sorts of beasts.

“Has he ever minded children?”

“A few times for the neighbours, nothing consistent but he’s managed to have every sort of creature that exists in America through our house it feels like. Brought back the sickest of creatures with care, mended the ones on death's door and tamed the nasty ones. He’s a skill in looking after wild things, I can’t imagine it would be too much of a stretch for him to look after two kids.”

Percival knows he should look for someone with more experience and skill, someone qualified with years of childminding. But even with the best services, there is a danger. Percival is an auror. Each morning he leaves the quiet calm town an hour from the city and takes a floo into the heart of New York. He chases down criminals and works to undo entire rings of dark wizards. His family name is known for it. The Graves has a long history of being aurors and upholding the law. That meant there are entire generations of criminals with a hunger for revenge. There are families who hate him for sending a member to prison or to their death. There are prisoners who had spent decades incarcerated from his father’s career or even his grandfather. It's standard to have anyone who works within the family house to be very heavily vetted to ensure they have no dark motive. More so among the Graves family. They uphold the law, the greater good for all magical kind. Sometimes that means going around certain restrictions and outdated regulations. It means walking a fine line.

It means making enemies for life.

So Percival hesitates to bring someone new into his house, to let a stranger look after his children for hours on end. He has a house elf, Milly, but she’s a touch naive and a clever mind can get around her with ease. Once they work for the Graves, Milly will let her guard down too quickly. Percival worries, with everything that has happened, he wants his kids to be protected.  

It will be safer to hire someone he knew already, someone he can trust.

And so Percival finds himself waiting for Newton Scamander to arrive on a bright Saturday morning.

A test run of sorts, Percival in the next room going over some loose ends his wife has left behind. Various groups who has been promised her time and money now want to know if Percival will honour them. With his wife missing as she is. It’s unspoken that most people think Percival has been left behind. That Florence has found a lover and ran away with him.

It makes him think of blood on stone, and Percival pushes the image away immediately. Too many years as an auror, dealing with violent cases. He has seen so many dead bodies over the years, he has learned to put it out of mind, to tuck it away. All aurors speak with mind healers every few months to maintain health. Percival is no different. He has always known the violence he sees and faces was his choice, that he confronts such terrible things in order to put a stop to them, in order to bring those who have done it to justice.

Part of being a good auror is having the right people on his side. The law can only reach as far as the government wishes it to be. Having friends in all the right places is vital and so Percival can’t afford to write off the various organizations his wife worked with. He has to make apologies to many, pay money to many others and promise some of his own time to the few key ones. The coming months are going to be hectic for him and he dearly hopes Newton will be able to handle the children so the matter can be settled.   

Newton had seemed competent when he arrived, if a little meek. Tina can take that meekness and turn it against the boy in a moment’s notice, so Percival worries a bit. He has left them alone for hours now and so far, there has been no ruckus. In fact, Percival was able to finish his work without being disturbed once and that speaks volumes to him. Even Florence herself had struggled to have the children leave him be when he was working at home. Mostly because Percival never minded his children bothering him and they both knew it well enough.

He loves his son and daughter, and while he knows the world sees him as someone stern and sombre, his kids never seem to realize that. Tina never hesitates to tell him all about her day so far, just as easily as Credence climbs into his lap and just leans against Percival, happy to be held. He’s always pleased to see them and spends time with them. So the moment his work is finished, he puts everything away and goes searching for his children.

They aren’t in the playroom as he expects, but he can hear their voices and so he follows the sound. He finds Tina and Credence making an utter mess in the garden, fingers coated in dirt and muck. Newton is right there beside them, pointing into the hole they have dug.

“You can see how he moves, side to side,” he makes a motion with his hand to show, and the kids watch before looking into the hole with keen interest.

Curious, Percival walks up and takes a look. A worm is the focus of their interest, of all things. Tina notices Percival first and attempts to lunge at him for a hug. Newt sits up and catches her with a surprising swiftness.

“A moment,” he tells her and pulls his wand out. Tina and Credence adore magic and so both are eager as Newton waves his wand in a simple cleaning spell on the children. Once it’s done, they both hug Percival’s legs in greeting. Newt stands up behind them, wiping his own hands on a cloth from his pocket and pushes the dirt to fill the hole in.    

“We saw butterflies! And a caterpillar, they’re the same species!” Tina announces loudly, bright and excited as she usually was. Credence is far more sedate but also looks content, watching Newt fill the hole they’ve made but keeping a hand on Percival’s trousers.

Tina begins to tell Percival all about the life of a butterfly from egg, larva, pupa and adult. She stumbles over the terms but for the most part, her information all seem pleasantly accurate. Newton walks behind them in no hurry, looking out over the garden more than paying attention to them. But the kids are at ease with him clearly. Over the years of Percival working with Prometheus, their children have met enough to know one another. Newton isn’t a scary stranger to them and so they seem to have decided they like him. Percival likes Newton as well, because he’s a shy boy but also very clever. He’s not the foolish sort and won’t trust strangers easily, he’s not the kind that will let dangerous people into Percival’s home.

“Thank you for today,” Percival tells Newton and the lad smiles in reply. He’s a pretty thing, Percival muses. He favours his mother with his delicate features, Helen is a beauty as well.

“Thank you, it was fun,” he assures Percival and says goodbye to the children. Tina waves at Percival’s side and Credence is on his hip, watching Newt leave.  

“Did you like spending time with Newton?” He asks them once they're settled in for dinner. They can both manage on their own mostly, Percival helps as needed, magic making it all much easier than by hand. Food obediently floats back to the plate instead of the table or floor.

“Newt,” Tina corrects right away. The lad always preferred the informal name. Percival had forgotten that, and he reminds himself to call him Newt from now on. He was too used to Prometheus calling him Newton at work.

“It was okay, is he going to look after us now?” Ever the cunning one, Tina is.

“I was hoping so,” Percival admits and Tina nods her head, seeming far too grown up for the conversation. She always does usually, ever growing too fast. A steady guardian to her younger brother.

“I like him,” she decrees. “He plays with us more than anyone else, he knows lots about bugs.”

What Tina likes, Credence usually follows, and so the young boy nods his head as well. Both pleased enough with the idea of Newt looking after them.

And so Percival officially hires the boy on and come next work week, Newt arrives just before Percival takes the floo to the city. He’s young to be minding the kids, just graduated from school it feels like, but he seems to have a good head on his shoulders.

Percival leaves listening charms around the house spying on the trio, and his worries are put to rest. Newt is a good minder, he and the children make an utter mess in their games, but Newt also teaches the children to clean up afterwards. They ask him endless questions and he answers honestly, more than most would. Newt does his best to break down complicated things, like why their nanny left them, into an idea that young children can understand better.

When in doubt, he learns they adore magic and a few wand tricks will have them pleased in no time. Milly brings them lunch and Newt helps the children eat and cleaned them up afterwards. Both Tina and Credence works with a tutor in the afternoon for a few hours and this is Newt’s free time in the house. Percival has been curious to see what he will get up to, left alone in a large house with all sorts of secrets.

Newt proves to be weak to books and spends his free time in the Graves library. Percival's grandfather had adored reading and their library was famous. Books from all over the world, some the only copies left. Newt shows care when he takes the books off the shelves, reading them and taking notes. His favoured books are unsurprisingly about magical creatures.

As the first few weeks slip by, the family settles into a new rhythm and Percival lets any lingering worries over Newt go. It is clear enough he is good at it, he always gives Percival truthful reports of their day and keeps a close eye on the kids. So Percival lets the lad watch his children and focuses on minding his work career and social status with promotions coming up soon.   

The months seem to go by so fast, no one bringing up his missing wife. The children adjust to their new minder and decides they adored Newt. Percival manages to appease the promises his wife made and keep important friendships strong. He closes five cases, one major, and his name is taken into consideration to lead a new task group.

Percival sometimes thinks of blood on stone but he moves on and the thoughts come less.

 

Change begins when the promotions are given out at work.  

Prometheus has been due for something for much longer than Percival. He’s a fair bit younger than the man and his family name has given many quick steps up. So Percival isn’t jealous at all when Prometheus is given the promotion to a fancy office and made commissioner over one of the city districts. Percival himself is given a title of captain with twenty aurors to mind which is plenty enough for him.

In the end, the biggest change is that to take the position, Prometheus and his wife decide to move into the city. They had come to America to find a better life for themselves and raised a family in the little village that was made up of magic folk. But with both children grown and no intentions for more, they’re happy to move into the city and all the amenities it offered. Helen is willing to give up her hippogriff breeding for orchestras and plays at her doorstep.

Percival lets himself fret for a bit, worried about his children who are very happy with Newt looking after them.  

“The city? Oh, I’m not going,” Newt tells him when Percival brings it up. The kids are in the garden playing some sort of over-complicated tag game and not listening to the grown-ups.

“You’ll be staying in the town?”

Newt nods his head, looking out past the garden to the forest that creeps up on the property, the Graves owning a vast amount of it.

“I grew up here and I rather like being so close to nature, cities always feel cramped to me. I’m not really keen on being stuffed into one if I can avoid it.”

“Where will you stay?”

“I’m not sure just yet, we’ve a few family friends in the area so I might begin making inquiries about rooms for rent and such. Theseus wants me to move to London but he’s missing the point of why I don’t wish to move with mum and dad.”

Percival sits back, relieved he isn’t losing his caretaker then.

“How is Theseus? Happy still?”

“Very,” Newt offers a soft smile. “He and Leta are still in the newlywed phase, Mum says. And the Ministry is treating Theseus very well, he’s just about to leave the junior title and be a proper auror.”

Theseus was a skilled wizard, and Percival privately thinks he should have stayed in America. But the British Ministry is known for trying to bring gifted wizards and witches back into their fold when they can. Theseus is doing very well with them, and Percival knows if he returns, he will find a good job at MACUSA through his father. Either way, it seems Percival will keep Newt still and so he is content with one brother staying put for now.

A week after Newt reassures him, he admits he is struggling to find a place to live in the area. The town is a smaller one and there are rooms, but Percival figures it is half because Newt has a reputation. Keeping nifflers and bowtruckles, ashwinders and murtlaps. There was a rumour for a long time that he has a dragon out in the forest somewhere as well. Small towns never liked anyone they deem too different. Newt is given leeway as the son of his father and ever-popular brother, but people still mutter.

But Percival isn’t willing to give up his new caretaker either.

“Stay here?” Newt looks genuinely surprised with the offer. It’s late out with the kids abed already. Percival has to attend a charity event in the city, and when he's out late, Newt stays late to look after the kids.

“I have been thinking about it,” Percival explains. “I would be happy to offer you a guest room, we’ve a few in this old place.”

Newt glances around the room, the Graves aren’t the type to flaunt their wealth but it is no secret either. They own the largest home in the small town and they founded it for the purpose of having a magical town for people to be safer within. It had originally been a estate on acres of land that the Graves had turned into the small town it was now. The house has twenty spare rooms tucked away and had housed many in times of duress. It’s made to be a safe house in a crisis for the entire town. So there is more than enough room for another person.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose, Mr. Graves,” Newt sounds uncertain and Percival nods, sitting back in his chair. He has Newt in the sitting area with him, a fire going in the fireplace. Percival settles in his usual chair and Newt looks small and poised on a couch beside him.  

“Please call me Percival,” he replies and offers a charming smile to the youth. “I won’t lie, Newt. The offer is mostly so I can keep my sitter. The kids have had enough change these last few months.”

“They have,” Newt agrees with a small frown. “The last thing I want is to upset them, they’re very darling kids. But I’m not sure I can pay rent for a room in a house like this.”

“Newt,” Percival huffs. “I have no intention of charging you room or board. You’ve helped me a great debt by agreeing to look after Tina and Credence so last second, I’d be happy to repay that kindness.”

Newt blinks, chewing his lip now.

“Would you mind if I speak with my parents on this? I would like to accept your offer, but I don’t want to overstep.”

“Of course, take your time, but know you’re not overstepping when someone makes the offer. We’d be happy to have you here,” he tells him warmly, trying to up the appeal.

“And just think, you’d have around-the-clock access to the library,” he adds just for good measure.

 

Newt agrees a few days after and moves in not long after. Before his parents leave even, giving him time to adjust to his new setting before seeing them off, Percival supposes. They’ll only be an hour away, but Newt hasn’t lived on his own before. Still, he attended boarding school, so the change shouldn't be too hard on him.

And it isn’t, in the end.

It’s hardest on Percival as it turns out.

 

It begins with a shower of all things.

Percival isn’t used to people up and about after the kids’ bedtimes. He’s used to the house being quiet. Florence had settled into her side of the house and that was the end of it until morning. It’s his own fault, wandering into rooms without thinking. The house is attuned to Percival as its master and so it answers to him. When he wants into a room, the door opens, regardless if it’s locked.

And so Percival walks into the large bathroom of the upper floors and has a moment to frown at the steam before he realizes. He has been puzzling over getting a pair of aurors under him to work better and hasn’t paid enough attention to where he is or the sound of the shower.

Newt hasn’t seen him either, his back to Percival, the curtain only pulled half closed. Newt’s soaping up his thigh, humming softly as he works.

It was easy to forget about sex, to put it out of his mind after he married Florence. Their marriage bed had been a cold one, and they’d only had sex to actively try for children. It hadn’t been good sex either. But Percival wasn’t the sort to be unloyal to any vows he made, so he pushed sex from his mind. Focused on work and being a father, ignored erections and willed his mind to focus beyond base pleasure.

It’s startling, how quickly years of such control can crumble away.

Because Newt is lovely to look at. His skin is creamy and smooth with soft freckles along his whole body. He has such gorgeous curves, a long slender neck and beautiful shoulders and upper back leading to a trim waistline. It reminds Percival of old paintings, of famous courtesans and goddesses poised as temptation personified. He has soft hips from eating well and a round full backside. Percival swallows weakly, eyes going down those milky thighs and calves, endlessly long legs. He has never realized how much leg the boy had on him. Trim ankles that looked delicate and even pretty toes. His hand gliding up and down his thigh in a near sinful rhythm, utterly distracting.

Newt’s hair is damp but not soaked yet, curls clinging to his skin. It makes Percival think of him sweat-soaked from sex. Newt’s face so bloody pretty to begin with, high cheekbones and full lush mouth. Percival has never realized how sinful his looks were. Somewhere caught between wicked temptation and angelic purity.   

“I’ll be out in a moment,” Newt says when he sees Percival. He doesn’t jump or fluster, meeting Percival’s gaze a moment before turning his attention back to washing himself. He seems utterly unashamed of his nudity and doesn’t try to hide himself at all. It catches Percival off guard even more, that Newt doesn't try and hide away. He turns under the water spray fully to soak his head and wash the soap off his body. Percival can see the side of his cock nestled in copper curls.

He steps back and bumps into the door jamb like a damn idiot and is grateful Newt doesn't notice.

“Alright,” he manages to say and gets the hell out of there. Plans for a quick wash disappears as Percival makes a walk of shame to his room with a heavy erection throbbing in his pants. He gets to his bedroom and closes the door quickly, cursing under his breath. He closes his eyes and Newt’s there waiting, all that silky skin on display, looking like a nymph.   

Feeling distinctly disgusted with himself, Percival undoes his pants and jerks off. He doesn't even bother for control, just rushing to sate the lust coursing through him. Cursing under his breath, it takes a laughably short time before he spills over his fingers. Watching it drip down on the floor, he struggles to catch his breath and sort of loathes that his control broke so soundly after so many years. He’s far too old for this sort of thing.

A gentle knock on his door makes him jerk upright.

“I’m finished,” Newt calls softly.

“Alright, thank you,” Percival replies. At least he sounds normal, managing to hide that he just got off to the image of the young man on the other side of the door.

He cleans himself up and goes to bed early so he can spend a few hours berating himself into a deep shame. He intends to feel horrid but his mind wanders. Newt is the soft type but hadn’t even blinked at Percival standing there. But the boy had attended Hogwarts for many years and shared a dormitory with other boys, likely a bathroom as well. It isn’t so odd to think he is used to having people walk in on him in such a setting. The Scamander’s had a smaller house as well, perhaps they view privacy differently.

From there, Percival just circles back to the sight of him. To seeing such a gorgeous body after years of abstinence. Percival and Florence had been arranged as children. Not even ten and both knowing they would marry one day. The Graves had always married well and Florence's family was wealthy and influential. They wanted the blood of one of the Original Twelve families in their line and so many deals were done over Percival and Florence. Careers were made and money exchanged, favours done and all sorts of things. To a depth that Percival knew as a teenager that he wouldn’t dare try and avoid the marriage. His preference for men over women was noted, but ultimately the wedding was to take place. Percival’s father had pushed it back for Percival at least. Let him run around like a lusty dog until he was twenty-five and had fucked every pretty man willing that he could find. Some women as well, Percival never minded either gender but knew he would have a man over a woman given a choice. But Florence only had sisters, so there was no reason to try and switch one for another. Percival married her, had a terrible first night with her and spent a year trying to please her before giving up. They just were not matched well within their bedroom. Percival always a bit dirty mouthed and rough and both things appalling to his wife. They had tried, both of them, those first years. But then they settled as awkward housemates and found they did better. Florence started sleeping in her own room and never breathed a word about it, so neither had Percival. They eventually tried for a child and got Porpentina for their efforts, and once she was up and walking, they tried again and had Credence.

Florence had never bonded with either of them. The marriage contract stated she was to give Percival two kids and she considered it fulfilled and made it clear she won't be having another unless one of them died. That callous comment had soured Percival to his wife a great deal.

He can recall when Porpentina was first born and swaddled, handed to Percival, such a tiny delicate life. A perfect little baby that's his flesh and blood. Percival had loved her from the second he laid eyes on her. Something very profound in him moved to make room in his heart. A place carved for all time for his child.

Florence hadn’t wanted to hold her, preferring potions to sleep after the labour. There was nothing in their marriage contract about breastfeeding so she had hired a wet nurse. They had never gotten on very well, but the cold way she treated their children smothered any affection Percival had for his wife. He understood she was trapped in a marriage she hadn’t wanted with children she didn’t desire, but Percival had never wanted to marry her either. He tried to be understanding of her position, but eventually, he just found himself bitter and happy to let her have her own life separate from his and his children for the most part. Florence was only happy to play at being a mother when others were watching.

Overall, it isn’t shocking that Percival had little time for lust. Raising his children and minding his career, sworn to be loyal to a woman he didn’t want. It made sense to bury that old base need.

And now it seems to have returned to him with a heavy intention.

 

Percival feels guilty and struggles to chat casually with Prometheus, knowing he is coveting the man’s son. Newt is barely twenty and Percival is getting close to forty. It is shameful to lust for such a young thing, even if plenty of others did so. Men and women muttering about how ‘lovely’ Newt had grown. Percival isn’t some disgusting sort. But he can’t deny his view of Newt had changed now and he doesn’t know how to go back. When he looks upon him, he sees how lush his mouth is and how long his eyelashes are. How soft his skin looks and how truly stunning he is when he smiles.

Newt dresses appropriately but usually loses his tie at some point during the day. He'll have his collar undone and his sleeves rolled up when he is out in the garden. So much skin on display, taking on a golden hue under the sun. The length of his neck is utterly blasphemous, more so with his shirt collar open so Percival can see the entire thing, the dip of his collar bones.

He meets them in the garden once after work, on a hot day with the kids all bright smiles with leaves in their hair. Newt isn’t wearing an undershirt and his shirt is hanging loose to fight the summer heat. Kneeling on the ground with the kids gave the standing Percival a clear view right down his shirt. The peek of skin is so bloody distracting.

Percival had jerked off more in the last month than he had in his entire youth, it feels like. Almost every night he's taking ahold of his cock and pumping into his fist thinking of Newton Scamander.

He worries about this fixation and makes sure he doesn’t make the poor boy uncomfortable with it. The last thing he needs is Newt resigning because Percival is creeping on him. But he’ll swear that Newt is almost encouraging it. Such a thought is disgusting and Percival knows that, he chastises himself time and again for it. But the way Newt would settle on the couch to read sometimes, legs tucked to his side and almost showing off his ass in his trousers. He wears them tight as well, thin fabric that seems to hug his legs. The way he chews on his lip absently, making it red and plump. He’ll look up at Percival sometimes, meeting his gaze a moment and offering a soft smile before looking back to his book. The touching as well, it's driving Percival to madness. Newt isn’t the sort to initiate contact very often, a private sort that only seems alright with the children crawling all over him. But sometimes he’ll reach out, Credence has taken to wanting Newt to carry him on his hip but he was getting old for it. Sometimes Newt will tip a bit and reach out to steady himself. A hand on Percival’s forearm. A quick pressure and a thankful squeeze before he’s slipping away. Sometimes when they stay up late reading together, Newt would touch Percival’s shoulder to get his attention when he’s off to bed before him. A soft smile and gentle goodnight.

It’s all harmless attention, but something in Percival seems so certain there is something more to Newt’s smiles and looks. So sure the young man is feeling the same lust pulling at Percival. But Newt hasn’t even dated, to Percival’s knowledge. He isn’t even sure if the boy preferred men or women. Prometheus had worried over it before, confided to Percival that Newt had never seemed very interested in sex or either gender. Theseus had to be watched, the young man fell in love far too easy when he was a teenager. But Newt never seemed to pick up the same interest, never had obvious crushes. Mad about his creatures, Prometheus would say, but just not curious about girls. To Percival’s knowledge, that has never changed. Newt remains uninterested in sex and has never expressed interest in either gender. It makes Percival feel foolish to think the boy is giving him bedroom eyes. When Newt likely doesn’t know what they even were.  

Percival wonders if he just needs to have sex, too long without.

But it feels wrong to think of going looking. His wife is still missing and no one is really concerned. Her family hasn’t even pushed for a more serious look. It seems decided by all that she had run off on him. Percival wonders if Florence had been stepping out behind his back and everyone knew it. Despite knowing what he does, he still hesitates to go out looking for company. Percival was never the sort to buy company either, he’ll never break those sorts of laws and has no interest in trying to. Rather he wants a warm body against his own, a familiar face and a measure of affection to go with it all. Perhaps he's projecting onto Newt, his own loneliness beginning to wear him down and coming out in the form of lust.

Perhaps he’s becoming obsessed with him.

Not really sure what's happening between them, how much of it Percival is making up, he resolves to ignore it.

And then promptly fucks up in spectacular fashion.

 

“You’ve been tense lately,” Prometheus notes when they meet at a charity event for families of aurors who gave the ultimate sacrifice. It’s a massive party with the intention to raise thousands of dollars to help people who need it. Aurors can never resist helping, more so their own. So it’s high-end, everyone all done up to the nines and on their best behaviour. It’s also a touch melancholy to mourn those they have lost. Either way, the drinks flow strongly. It’s rude to refuse a drink in honour of someone who had passed and it's easy for people to get tipsy.

Prometheus, in good nature, has been pushing at Percival all night, keeping his cup filled and making sure he has a good night. The man is essentially getting him drunk. If there is a hint of something more, an intention when he leaves Percival with pretty women without husbands, the man hides it well. The social world of New York is vast and ever moving and without telling him, people have decided that Percival should be moving on. That Florence has taken off and likely won’t return and if she does, he should divorce her on the spot. It’s almost six months now and people are losing interest in the gossip, Percival was left behind and that was that. Men Percival slept with in his youth smirk at him with interest and ambitious women press close to him. It’s not hard to send them away with a look. Percival is good at being charming but better at intimidation. He’s really not interested in anyone in his bed tonight and so he avoids that attention. Rather, he talks with the aurors who now work under him and tries to form better relationships with them, meeting their spouses and older children. With a drink in them, their tongues are looser and Percival gets more honest feedback than he ever would officially.  

Still, with Prometheus handing him drinks, Percival gets tipsy himself. Enough that he doesn’t apparate home, taking a carriage. He spends the trip trying to sober up enough to get to his room quietly if Newt is awake still. They’ve spelled the skies cloudy with light rain and thunder to hide the flying carriages that night. Knowing already that there will be plenty of drunk wizards and witches finding a way home safely. Percival is half tempted to down a sober up potion, but they come with a wicked headache he’s never cared for. It always lingers for days afterward so he decides to try and be quiet and get to his room. Probably jerk off sloppily to the idea of Newt’s ass and then pass out on his bed fully dressed. A nice severe hangover in the morning.  

But the rain makes Percival think of blood on the stone pathway. Rain washing it away, diluting it until it seemed like it was never there. He closes his eyes tightly, feeling something ruthless and livid turning in him. The carriage jerks to a stop and Percival gets out. He feels the wards of his house when he walks in the front door. The old house has known him since he was a child, he was born in one of the bedrooms, conceived and carried within the walls. A wizard's house, magic within it, meant to protect the family from the elements and beyond.

He’s not sure why this house failed.

The thunder rolls outside and the rain hits the side of the house, seeming loud.

Feeling dark suddenly, Percival makes his way to his room and hesitates at the door. He’s not a drunk as he had thought he was, feeling more level headed than he expected. Glancing down the hall, he feels a nameless sort of emotion roll through him. Something between guilt and fear, between anger and sorrow, love and hatred. He goes down the hall on quiet feet and opens the bedroom door next to his own.

Tina and Credence are fast asleep, settled in their own beds. Credence is snuggling a stuffed niffler Newt had gifted him and Tina with a book on junior aurors beside her. Percival smiles and his heart thumps with a near painful adoration. He puts the book on the nightstand and pulls her blankets up around her. He pushes Credence’s hair from his eyes and charms his toy warm, the boy snuggling closer in his sleep. They’re were still getting used to sleeping in different beds, far too used to snuggling close. It’s good Credence stayed in his own bed tonight. Usually sneaking to curl up with his big sister, feeling safe with her. Tina has always been protective her baby brother, always there for him. Such a darling. Both of them, so perfect.

Percival loves his children.

He looks around the room, seeking imagined evils and finding none. His children are safe and so he leaves them to their dreams, hoping for only bright things to visit them.

Newt is waiting outside, leaning against the wall and peering at Percival. On his shoulder is a green plant that is alive, swaying as it watches Percival.

Deeply illegal, any sort of magical creature. Percival’s seen hints of them and steadily ignores them, too fond of Newt to admit he's likely keeping pets he shouldn't have.

Perhaps he is drunk, his tongue feels loose. The rain is hitting the window down the hall, thunder rolling. Hit mouth opens but no words come out.

“Pickett sleeps with the children, he tells me when someone comes to see them.” Newt says. “It’s only ever you or Milly,” he reassures when he sees the worry in Percival’s eyes.

“I would never hurt my children,” Percival confesses. “Never let anyone lay a hand on them.”

“I know,” Newt admits. “I worried a bit at first but I could see eventually, how much you love them.”

Percival opens his mouth to say something else, to confess something so much worse, but the words are trapped within.

“Let me help,” Newt offers, stepping closer and Percival feels heavy, letting the gorgeous young man lead him to his own room. When Percival sits on the bed he pulls Newt with him, an arm around his waist so Newt falls on him. Percival lays back and looks up at the pretty man as he pushes up from Percival’s chest, a hand splayed out over Percival’s heart.

“Are you okay?” he asks, so painfully sincere. Percival reaches out and runs a careful hand across Newt’s cheek, finally touching his skin as he’s wanted to for weeks.

“Not at all,” Percival tells him, thumb reaching to trace Newt’s full lip. It’s silky soft and so plush, giving way when Percival pushes a bit, thumb swiping across it. Newt lets him, features soft and sweet in the dark room, a faint light turning on when they entered. The magic fading when it seems like Percival has gone to bed. He runs his hand through Newt’s hair and when he tugs, the young man goes.

Kissing him feels divine. Beyond lust alone, something profound.

Percival can’t help but be gentle, careful as he tastes Newt. He’s trembling against Percival, seeming so darling. When he pulls back a bit, Newt opens his eyes slowly, blinking tears as he looks down at Percival in the dark light.

“What do you remember?”

“Enough,” Percival admits.

Blood on stone, bare feet in the grass, rain pouring and thunder rolling.

 

Percival wakes across his bed the wrong way, fully dressed with Newt pressed to his side and fast asleep. The sunlight is harsh and Percival’s head is throbbing. He can recall most of last night, the dark things creeping in the night. He pushes them away however, unwilling to let them have him. Instead he focuses on Newt and how lovely he looks. His body is warm and snug against Percival. Despite the pain in his head, he manages to run a hand through the copper curls and press a kiss to his brow. Percival very carefully slips free of the youth and immediately reaches a hand to his potion cabinet for a pain potion. It feels like cool water running over a fire burning in him, soothing it all away and he sighs out.

Newt shifts beside him and Percival turns to watch him waking. Frowning at the sunlight adorably and trying to snuggling into the bedding to hide. Newt yawns and stretches before blinking his eyes open. He seems to realize he’s not in his own bed right away, coming fully awake. His wide gaze swing to Percival and he manages a weak smile in return.

“I’m sorry,” Newt says immediately, scrambling to sit up. Percival drops a hand to Newt’s knee to calm him, squeezing gently.

“It’s fine. I should apologize to you. Stumbling home drunk as I did. Thank you for helping me to bed.”

Newt looks at him, really peers at Percival for a moment. And then he slowly nods his head.

“I don’t mind, you’ve been very kind to me,” Newt replies and Percival should move his hand but he doesn’t, leaving it on Newt’s knee. He’s wearing sleeping pants and a shirt, but they're both loose and thin material.

“You make it easy,” Percival tells him and Newt blushes so bewitchingly. Percival isn’t sure if it’s the words or his hand but Newt’s face looks lovely with a pink hue. His lips are so fine and delicate. Percival can’t recall how they felt properly and feels cheated, wanting a second taste.

His bedroom door swings open and Percival can barely jerk away before his children spill into the room. Tina bright-eyed and awake, looking between Percival and Newt with a curious expression. Credence half asleep and yawning. He reaches out with his arms to be picked up and Newt moves before Percival, picking him up and snuggling him close.

“Let’s go get dressed,” he says to the sleepy child and Credence nods.

Newt escapes and Percival is left with his daughter looking up at him.

“Did Newt sleep with you?” She asks with all the innocence of a child.

 

Tina watches Newt and Percival with a new interest, whispering to Credence and refusing to say what they’re plotting. Newt is a true master at avoiding any topic he wants with them. Able to ask questions more interesting or use magic to distract. Credence is easy enough, but Tina is a little investigator. It’s hard to slip by her.

“Are you gonna share a room now?” She asks Percival at lunch, peering at him as Newt and Credence walk about in the garden, peering at the birds singing in the sunshine. Everything is wet from the rain, but the sun is out and the reflections are bright and lovely. Credence likes it and wants to explore, clinging to Newt. Percival watches the way his son trusts Newt, how he leans his head on Newt’s shoulder. He must be sore, carrying Credence around so, but he doesn't show it. Credence has been more needier than Tina since he's a toddler but Percival lets him, he won’t try and force his children to be anything but themselves.

“No, I was feeling sick and Newt helped me,” Percival explains once more. His daughter takes the answer and disregards it clearly. She’s not buying what he’s selling at all.

“You could share a room,” she decides. “I wouldn’t mind,” she announces like a little queen, allowing Percival to act with her permission.

“Thank you,” Percival tells her, a bit amused.

“I like Newt,” she admits. His daughter rarely acts her age, always trying to be grown. She takes care of Credence as well, looking after him with a care that seems better fitted to a mother than a sister. Percival worries over it sometimes, wanting her to have her childhood.

“So do I,” he gives her, just to play along and his daughter lights up with the words. Pleased with herself, she kicks her feet and swings off the chair to go and run to where Newt and Credence are inspecting the roses.

Percival watches them all and his heart swells.

It’s so much worse than mere lust.

It’s been decades since Percival’s felt so fond of someone like this. A sexual hunger coupled with a gentle urge to be near them. He’s not so jaded to say he’s never been in love, but he does know it’s not something he lets himself feel. Percival doesn't let himself get attached. Simply because he couldn’t afford to, he had a wife already. Now everything is different.

He should be looking to men closer to his own age, he knows that much. He’d grown up with many men who had been lovers at one point. It wouldn’t be shocking if he took up with one of them again, he knows there are some who would never speak a word of it. He’s remained friends with many, most members of high society themselves.

Percival should think of remarrying, a husband that he can grow to truly love.

But he can’t stop looking at Newt.

Knowing the youth isn’t against his affection makes it worse.

Newt let Percival kiss him, let him feeling him up and stayed with him the night, curled at his side.

They're bonded in a way beyond anything else as well.

Percival can’t get Newt out of his head.

Can’t stop thinking of all that smooth skin and those pretty legs. That trim waist. His mind wanders sometimes, recalling the swell of hips not unlike a woman, and the line of his waist, the little dip in the small of his back. The pert globes of his ass.

 

“How are you?” Meredith asks him and Percival smiles at her genuinely. He’s known her since he was a boy. Every Sunday, the little town sets up a market in the square and Meredith sells loaves of bread she makes. Recipes from all over the world, she had travelled in her youth, brought to the little table. Percival has never had better and always buys from her.

“Very good,” he replies. “The baking business is well?”

The old woman scoffs, a retired auror who baked as a hobby even though she could run a successful shop easily. She's content in her little home in their small town and Percival finds himself admiring her. No need of wealth or a great name, humble for the years she served to uphold the law.

“Busy enough, gossip is better,” she tells him. “Have you heard from her at all?”

Percival inspects the bread a moment, he’d been waiting for these questions for a while now.

“I have not. I’m worried where she ended up but I know she was clever and resourceful.” He hesitates a moment before feeling the need to know begins to rise. Meredith might like her talk but she’s never been a viper about it. She won’t twist his words around or lie to his face.

“I’ve been hearing talk that she might have left with someone,” he confesses, looking up in the small square, a hundred people at most, all magic born. Newt’s copper hair stands out as he and the children inspect another table. “That she might have been making a fool of me all along.”

Meredith frowns at her bread, packing loaves into a bag for Percival, adding sweetbreads without needing to be asked.

“It’s a terrible business, unfaithfulness. To my understanding, there was never any proof but always whispers.”

She looks to where his children are.

“Would you love them less? If they were another man's?”

Percival manages a soft snort.

“It wouldn’t matter in such a case. I raised them, they're my children as far as I’m concerned and I pity the man who ever tried to take them from me.”

Meredith chuckles, looking up at him.

“You’re a good man, Percival. I wouldn’t worry about some woman who couldn't see that, focus on what’s in front of you.”

“Sweetbread!” Credence announces and Percival turns as his kids rush to the stall to peer, Newt following.

“Did you get extra?” Tina frets and Percival shows her the bag for inspection with a fond smile.

“Have you found some trinket you both need direly?”

Tina shakes her head, more interested in the sweet fragrance of the treats Percival has.

“We were looking at the carvings, of magical creatures, Newt could name them all.”

“Very impressive,” Percival agrees and Newt huffs out at the gentle tease.

“Would you like a bit to eat?” Meredith asks, a loaf already out and squares of buns with honey glaze being offered.

Tina looks to Percival and he nods, watching her take one politely and give it to Credence before taking another for herself. Meredith winks at them and Tina smiles in return. Credence, ever shy, turns to hide. But he picks Newt to hide behind instead of Percival, a very telling act. Newt doesn’t help, running a hand through Credence’s hair fondly and smiling down at him.   

“Can you offer a thank you?” he requests and Credence obediently mumbles it out. He looks to Newt for approval and receives it in a warm little smile. Tina says thank you again, not wanting to be left out and Newt smiles at her as well, patting her head. The girl likes to think she’s above wanting attention, but it shows at times. Newt always seems to know just how to react.

“Well,” Meredith says and Percival looks away from his family to the old woman watching them all, her brows raised at him.

Feeling a bit exposed, Percival pays her quickly and moves them along.

Usually they come on their own, Percival and his children. But they begged Newt to join them until he relented. Percival hasn’t thought it through properly, just wanting Newt around as much as his children. It will make people talk however, Newt joining them outside his duties as a caretaker. Spending his free time with them, with Percival.

“Margaret!” Tina cries and leaves their side to rush to the woman. She's walking with her very pregnant daughter at her side. Emily is only seventeen and Percival feels bad for the girl, society is never kind in these sorts of things. So he makes a point to stop and talk with them both, acknowledging the meek girl.

“Has the potion helped?” Newt asks Emily and she nods her head.

“Very much so, the worst of the aches have faded with a tea each morning.”

Newt looks pleased.

“I had thought so, the properties mixed together were thought to be a natural muscle relaxant.”

Percival has no idea what they're on about but he lets them talk, seeming like friends. Tina and Credence ask their old nanny how she has been and tell her of their new adventures with Newt. Percival has been about the offer to get lunch together but now his tongue feels heavy. Newt chatting with this pregnant girl, standing closer than Percival likes. He hasn’t heard anything about a father to Emily’s child.  

Soon enough the say goodbyes and the children are bribed from being sad by little toys at another stall, stunning carving that are very well done and so cost a high price. It’s not a local vendor but a travelling wizard. Newt is enchanted with a thunderbird that soars through the sky and Percival buys it for him, refusing to be denied. Credence wants a niffler and Tina decides on a dragon. Percival notes the niffler, thinking on Credence’s beloved stuffed toy that Newt has made him. It may be nothing but it may be that there’s a pest wandering around his house. Perhaps a house guest of Newt’s even. Percival hasn’t noticed anything missing however, so he lets it be for now.

They return home and Percival lets the children help him with a simple potion, wanting them to learn as soon as they can. Newt leaves them to it, reading in the library. They reconvene for a dinner of roast and potatoes, fresh vegetables from the market as well. It’s a good day and Percival reads to his children and settles them in bed. There’s no reason for his dark mood, but he can feel it looming nonetheless.

Newt smiling at the pregnant Emily.

Jealousy stirring.   

He finds Newt down in the workrooms.

It's a specialized area of the house, filled with various potion ingredients and an area to practice spell work. Powerful wards in the rooms to keep any mishaps from damaging the house. Equally powerful wards to keep curious children out without proper supervision.

Newt’s putting away new ingredients they bought at the market, tucking herbs into bottles and changing the dates on the labels. Milly can do it, but Newt is very hands-on in his magic making. He likes to do all his own handling with anything he intends to use.

He looks up when Percival comes in, walking over to him. When he stands too close, Newt pauses tellingly, looking back at Percival. His shoulder is brushing Percival’s chest, they're so close, both facing the work table with the cabinets of ingredients.

“Did…” Newt trails off, a fine blush spilling across his face. It’s so fetching, his freckles hiding in the red across his skin.

“Did you need something?” Newt asks, licking his lip and Percival’s gaze falls to it, hunger stirring.

“I just wanted to talk,” he reassures in a lie, his hand reaching out to rest on Newt’s hip. He squeezes them and they feel so small and delicate under his hands. Newt’s not tiny but he’s still more petite than most.

“A-about?” Newt’s voice is low and raspy, his hands clutching the herbs too tightly now. They never talked about it, about the kiss and night together. Percival feels tightly coiled, something dark slithering through him. Worries about how much older he is than Newt fade when he stands so close to him. It’s like his mind fades and his body rises, such a base need able to grasp so firmly still.

“You spoke to Emily, about potions?”

Percival sways in without meaning to, Newt’s hair tickling his cheek, his lips brushing over the back of his neck. His skin so soft and warm. Percival’s hands tighten on Newt’s hips, thumbs rubbing in soothing circles.

“Emily?” Newt sounds so distracted and confused, like a sweet little thing, trembling so delicately in Percival’s grasp. Newt shifts and his hips press to the table edge, trapping him as Percival steps closer, letting his front press against him snuggly, from shoulder to thigh.

“You were very kind to her, doting almost,” Percival muses. He can’t help but drop soft kisses along the boy’s neck, mouth opened a bit, tongue eager to taste.

“M-Mother mentioned her, that she was struggling with aches and pains from pregnancy, Mum asked…” Newt trailed off and sucked in a quick breath. Percival ran his tongue along his neck, tasting salt and feeling him quiver.

“Mister Graves,” Newt whines, sounding so lost and afraid.

“Percival, call me Percival,” he corrects him. “What did your mother ask?”

Newt makes a confused sound, hands coming up to grasp Percival’s wrists as he moved his hands forward. Those longs delicate fingers dig into Percival’s skin but don’t try and stop him as he slowly untucks Newt’s shirt.

“What did she ask?” he presses and Newt swallows.

“To help, if I knew anything. I experiment with creatures’ magical properties to develop new potions. Mum was going to be a healer before she and dad ran off together. She knows lots and helps me.”

Percival hums, pleased that Newt’s connection to the girl was through his mother. He rains small kisses on Newt’s neck, moving towards his ear.

“P-please,” Newt gasps, sounding out of breath, shaking so preciously. Percival nips his earlobe gently, taking more kisses on Newt’s cheek. He reaches up with on hand finally, tipping the boy to turn his head. He kisses him softly on the mouth, plush lips giving in, Newt’s body very slowly relaxes against him. It feels like a victory.

“I’d wondered, worried,” Percival admits between kisses, pulling back and going back in over and over. Wanting to devour Newt. The darling is so sweetly pliant, letting Percival take what he wants. His hands still holding onto Percival’s wrists, clinging now though, grasping for an anchor.

“That perhaps you were the father of Emily’s babe.”

Newt blinks and looks adorably perplexed a moment.

“No, I’m not… I’ve never wanted… Women don’t appeal to me, like that.”

Percival gives him a longer kiss in reward, slipping his tongue in. Newt’s fumbling but lets him do as he wants, lets him in. Percival pulls his shirt from his pants and unfastens Newt’s trousers. His hand is gentle and slow as it slides into his under clothes. The summer heat is at its height near the end of the season and Newt’s only wearing the bottoms of an underwear. A careful thought and bit of focus from Percival undoes Newt’s shirt buttons so it hangs open, so much pretty skin on display.

Newt breaks the kiss, jerking when Percival cups his cock. He’s hard, the tip soaked and Percival takes his time, enjoying the feel of it. Newt’s trembling something terrible, he puts his hands on the table to help steady himself as Percival takes hold of his cock. He makes such a lovely sound with the first pump of Percival’s hand. His hips roll likely without Newt knowing. His head falls back on Percival’s shoulder and he’s never seen someone so perfect. There are tears in Newt's eyes, clinging to his eyelashes, looking divine. Like a promise of salvation and damnation twisted into one.    

Percival runs his mouth along the line of Newt’s gorgeous neck and he peers down as his hand works. He can feel the cock in his palm throbbing already and he knows Newt won’t last. It’s not as good as it could be, if he had some oil, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm Newt too much. But in the same thought, Percival wants to taste him. He looks down at the pretty cock, flushed red and seeming so delicious.

Newt is almost confused when Percival stops and turns him. He leans the lad’s pert backside against the table and goes down to his knees. Newt barely has time to blink and Percival is taking hold of his cock and wrapping his mouth around it. Newt cries out, sudden and shocked with the wet heat, hips shoving mindlessly as his hand reaches out and grabs at Percival’s shoulder tightly.   

“I can’t,” Newt cuts off, shaking apart immediately. Percival can feel it against his tongue, waves of seed spilling. He looks up, wanting to see Newt as he releases and he’s already looking down at Percival. A single tear tracking down his face as he bites into his lip and comes. Something about it is made more intimate to watch each other. Newt rarely meets gazes.

Then he slumps against the table and Percival pulls back, swallowing the bitter taste.

It feels odd to miss such a thing. There are potions the make the flavour better but something crass in Percival has always liked the dirty taste.

His hand was resting on Newt’s thigh and he slides it up and back to cup his ass and take a nice squeeze. Percival stands again and turns Newt over once more, the dazed darling going obediently. Eyes a bit glazed from coming so fast. He lets Percival bend him over the table and tug at his pants. He wants to rub off against Newt. He won’t fuck him, not here and like this. The youth deserves a soft bed and sweet words. Romancing.

Percival admires the pale skin of his bare ass, the globes of it nice and round. He’s got a stunning ass Percival thinks, cupping the flesh and squeezing it. Fingers parting him so he can get a look at his hole, expecting a pretty pink thing.

He’s not disappointed at all.

If anything, he’s elated.

Newt is wet.

Slicked up.

It’s not appropriate to speak of things outside of serious relationships, not among proper people. But in more lewd circles, men like to tease with it. When Percival was younger he’d chased after the sort. Men blessed with a magic made fertility, able to carry children within their own bodies. It makes a sudden sense, Newt’s curvy hips, made to carry a babe.

Slick is the most common signifier, a man who can get wet without potions, his body eager to be bred.

“Percival?” Newt sounds meek, looking over his shoulder at him. He has stopped too long, mind caught up in the revelation of this gift he’s discovered.

“You know, I’ve always adored dams,” he confesses. Licking his lip and going back to his knees once more. “Nothing feels quite as good as a nice slicked dam cunt,” he adds and Newt makes an embarrassed sound.

He gasps out, jerking against the table when Percival licks him. He doesn't let the boy escape him, tongue running along his rim and tasting the slick. Percival doesn’t hesitate to eat Newt out, hearing all sorts of sounds from him in reaction. His thighs are trembling again, shifting and trying to spread wider but caught in his trousers around his knees. When the little mewling moans cut off, Percival pulls back. He peers and can see Newt biting his own knuckles to muffle his sounds.

That won’t do at all.

Percival stands, his legs not entirely steady. His cock is throbbing hard and wants to spend badly now. He ignores it in favour or pulling Newt’s hand away.

“Don’t do that, I want to hear you,” he scolds Newt lightly. Cupping his cute ass and squeezing with one hand before he moves his fingers to rub over the wet little hole.

Newt jerks, whining out and trying to rise up. Percival puts a hand on his neck and hushes him. Holding Newt in place a bit. He looks spooked, flushed so red and eyes blinking more tears, scared little dear.

“It’s okay,” Percival tells him soothingly. Pressing a single finger against Newt with more intention, gently nudging it forward against his hole.

“Just relax, darling,” he coaxes.

“S-shouldn’t,” Newt manages to finally say softly. “We shouldn’t be…”

Percival makes sympathetic sounds even as he works a finger deeper.

“I know, so sinful, isn’t it? So dirty and inappropriate.”

He watches his finger sink to the knuckle and pulls back, adding a second finger and twisting his hand so he can press where he wishes.

Newt makes such a sweet little sound, like his breath is stolen from him, a quick intake of air as his hips twitch.

“But it does feel so good, somehow so right? Doesn’t it feel right?” Percival asks patiently, working his fingers to make Newt jolt and jerk. His one hand keeps a hold of the back of Newt’s neck, gently keeping him in place.

Newt looks so lovely like that, pinned down but not fighting. He’s scared a bit but it speaks of his innocence. It’s the sex putting him on edge, not Percival himself. He makes sure to hit that spot a few more times, dragging it out. He needs to buy a nice sex toy for Newt, something that’ll hit him right there for hours.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Poor thing makes a wounded sound, fingers trying to grip at the table. Percival leans over him, bending down to kiss Newt’s brow. His other hand leaves his neck and goes under Newt, taking hold of his cock. Despite coming, he’s already hard for another round.

To be so young, Percival muses.

“Tell me to stop and I will, darling,” he whispers into Newt’s ear. Tracing the curve with his tongue.

“Tell me no,” he mutters, feeling dirty as he fingers the trembling youth and pumps his cock in his fist. Newt’s a mess, tears blinking and his lip all red and swollen from how hard he’s bitten it. It doesn’t take long for Newt to fall apart again, going tense and breath hitching. Gasping out and clenching his eyes closed as his hips shove. He can’t help it, that base need leading him. Newt too young to even know how to fight it as he breaks apart. Sobbing out as he spills a second time. Percival milks it from him. Rubbing his prostate as he squeezes on Newt’s cock, getting every last drop out of him.

When Newt goes slack against the table, panting a bit, Percival eases his fingers free.  

He doesn’t try for class or grace as he undoes his own pants and pulls himself out. He won’t last after that, not when he’s finally seen Newt as he is. Laid out against the table, pants pulled down, creamy skin on display. Pretty little thing still quiver from aftershocks.

Percival pulls on his own cock, spitting into his palm to make it easier. He puts a hand on the small of Newt’s back and leans in, rubbing the head of his cock against Newt’s pink hole.

He jerks to life then, trying to escape immediately. He's certainly scared of sex for some reason but Percival’s mind is too busy to care.

“Hush, I won’t, I promise, just let me press up against you a bit,” he explains and Newt relaxes quickly. Scared to be penetrated Percival notes for later thought.  

He jerks off with efficiency, knowing the right tight grip to use on himself. Watching as the head of his cock nudges against the pink dam hole. Smearing the slick over the tip. Groaning out, Percival snarls a bit, pressing in but not enough to actually sink, watching the head of his cock press and then slide off to the side.

“I’m going to, one day,” he mutters. “I’m going to have you, sweet, going to fuck you good and hard and make you want more. You’ll be begging for it, desperate to have it,” he growls out. Feeling the rise of release and tightness in his body. Percival looks down at Newt, gorgeous boy laying against the table against, chewing his fingers as he peers back at Percival.

His gaze isn’t shy anymore. He meets Percival’s gaze, something so intent in his eyes, steel in a gaze that’s almost always meek. A rare peek at what hides under the soft sweet boy.

Percival hisses out as he comes, watching his seed spill against Newt’s hole. He pulls his cheek wider so he can watch, white spurts hitting creamy skin and running down quickly.   

He comes down slowly, panting for breath. His fingers are too harsh and he makes his grip go slack. Newt’s one ass cheek red with marks from where he gripped. Percival takes a step back and tries to get a measure of control back. He can see his own seed smeared all over Newt’s pink hole, it looks so obscene.

Percival can’t stand to clean it away, so he reaches out and lifts Newt’s pants back up. Leaving his seed there as he careful redresses him. Newt is shy once more, eyes averted as he lets Percival do as he wants. So he tips his chin up with tender fingers and leans in to kiss the boy. Something sweet and delicate to sway Newt. It works, his hands coming up to lean against Percival’s chest as he kisses back. All exquisite and lovely.

Percival sends Newt off to bed, watching him go obediently. Taking his wand, he cleans up the mess they’ve made. After a moment of thought, he takes a small vial and gathers Newt’s spilled seed within it.  

An inappropriate memento. Percival presses a kiss to the little vial fondly.

A terrible idea forming in his mind.

 

They never speak of it.

Newt blushes more around Percival but never says a word about what they’ve done. Percival knows he should speak properly with him. But something in him worries over rejection. He can’t let Newt tell him no, won’t hear for it. So he just follows him like a predator, like a beast hunting.

Percival’s hands wander the second no one is looking.

Never anywhere they can be caught and never near the children. But when they read together, Percival sits on the little couch beside Newt rather than his normal chair. When he comes home late and Newt is still awake, he puts a hand on Newt’s hip when they walk together down the halls.

It bleeds over quickly.

Barely a month after, Percival touches Newt all the time. Reaches to wipe a bit of food off his lip at dinner. Taking his hand when he wants his attention, standing far too close when the talk. A hand always reaching for Newt.

For the most part, Newt is unsure but not against the attention.

He goes shy in the daylight but lets Percival get away with more when the sun is gone.

Something in Percival fixates on the fact that Newt is a dam. It seeps into his brain and refuses to leave. Percival used to daydream of marrying such a man, back when he was young and let himself dream of someone he wanted. He can recall the first dam he ever saw. He had been young, still holding to his mother’s hand as they walked. Within their little town everyone was magically born and so the secret wasn’t as tightly hidden. Wasn’t desperately tucked away down streets and alleys with charms to keep no maj away.  

Percival had spotted a very pregnant person, peering at him and his mind old enough to understand that he was looking at a man. A man who was pregnant, that certain sort of roundness to his belly.

“How is that?” He asked his mother after, so curious and wide-eyed.

“He’s a dam, darling,” she had replied, more focused on inspecting potions in the shop than her intrigued little boy. Percival has always been told he asked a hundred questions a day as a child, ever curious.

“That’s a bad word.”

He can recall his mother’s little smile, her eyes cutting from potions to him. Running her hand through his hair fondly.

“Not that word, I mean ‘dam’,” she spelled it out for him. “It’s a magical term. A sire and dam, most men are sires and most women are dams. But sometimes magic makes them different, some people are different. A man who is a dam can carry a child like a woman and a woman who is a sire can be a father.”

Percival stared out into the street, looking for a glimpse of the man long gone. The idea seemed amazing to him then, a young boy. He adored all things magical, and the idea that some people held so much magic they could create life had been awe-inspiring.

When he was older, dams become desirable for more lustful reasons. It was easy to fuck on, to get them all excited and then push into that wet heat. No need to stretch them out, able to be rough from the get-go.

Percival had always wanted to have his own dam, to impregnate him.

The idea slithers into his head and refuses to leave him. He can’t help but stare at Newt and imagine what he would look like with a pregnant belly.

 

Samhain comes quickly, the year going by so fast, it feels like. The air has taken a chill and everyone wears heavier coats and trendy scarfs. Percival likes to dress well and he does so with his children, Tina liking it and Credence as well, as long as he's comfortable. Newt seems bemused with fashion and the Graves care with it. But he accepts a gift of a tailored coat and doesn’t hesitate to wear it. The blue is striking and looking very good on him.

They all look put together when they go out. Newt had usually gone to be with his parents in the city for the festivals, but this time he’ll stay with them. Prometheus and Helen coming to the town to celebrate as traditional of the holiday.

Samhain is celebrated in the cemetery, candles everywhere as the sunlight fades and lighting begins. The end of the harvest year and the time for things to die. Percival lights candles for his family who have passed, and Credence and Tina carefully place them on the stone of the family mausoleum, Percival’s entire known family buried beneath the dirt, going down far past any no-maj ability. His mother and brother have both come to pay respects. Percival is glad to see his mother’s face holds less sorrow. She misses her husband but doesn't mourn him with the same consuming grief of the earlier years.

Newt has stepped away from them, standing with his family at a small little headstone. Prometheus and Helen had run away together, coming to America for a new life. They’d settled in the small town fairly quickly but were newcomers compared to most with generations already there. It felt bitter that they would find a place in the cemetery only after tragedy.

A stillborn babe.

They had tried after Theseus and lost a child, the small family shaken by it. They had waited years to try again and have Newt. Now the four of them stand together and place candles for the tiny girl child who never got to live properly. Theseus’s wife is at his side, which is a touch odd since more magical families visit their own ancestors. It speaks that she doesn’t feel the pull to do so, either she lacks a welcome or the respect to do so.

“Who is that?” Percival’s mother asks and brings his attention back. Tina overhears and looks back, smiling and waving until Newt sees and waves back.

“That’s Newt, he looks after us,” she tells her grandma brightly. Magdala Graves has meant Theseus’ new wife but she immediately focuses on Newt with a keen interest.

“A new sitter?” She politely inquires and Percival tells her how his nanny had to leave and his need to find a new hire quickly. His mother listens and can see through his nonsense almost instantly. Narrowing her eyes at him and knowing everything he isn’t saying. Her mouth closes tightly, looking back at Newt.

“Barely twenty,” is all she says, a clear reprimand.

“Come now, he’s allowed a moment of weakness, given Florence.” Lamorak defends lightly. Well aware of Tina and Credence listening intently.

Percival flicks Tina’s ear to distract her and she giggles, smiling up at him as he winks down at her. They offer their prayers to the dead and then go to the main square where tables of food are laid out. A great bonfire is lit already, with people weaving straw into figures and symbols before tossing them into the fire. With a bit of magic, some of them are truly stunning to look upon. An intricately woven raven flies up into the air before diving into the flames.  

Lamorak helps Tina and Credence make their own little figures, most children beginning with simple things like boxes or stars. Tina works on a box with her face pinched in concentration. Credence is making something more intricate and won’t name what it is. Tina keeps trying to help him but Credence wants to do it on his own. Percival makes a tree, waving his wand and carefully interlacing the brittle straw and grass until it looks like an old oak. His children watch in rapt fascination.

“Show off,” Lamorak remarks without heat, making the children giggle and hurry to defend their father. Percival looks around and spots his mother speaking with Helen Scamander, he nearly cringes but manages to hide it.

Newt has a straw creature of some sort on his shoulder, the little beast moving with magic pulsing in it. Some people like to carry their offerings for a bit and burn them later in the night. The Graves have always burned theirs right away.

They offer them up once his mother comes and makes her own.

They can have many meanings, good or bad, the desire to put something to rest or to revive it. Credence has made a rough figure, just enough to be a woman. Percival’s heart wrenches as his son tosses it into the fire and then looks to see if it burns. His mother frowns and rests a hand on Credence’s shoulder, smiling down at him fondly.

There are few women in Credence’s life and even fewer that he would wish away.

Something in Percival’s gut tightens.

But the music starts up and people begin to chatter more, the sombre tone fading away. Credence is happy to leave the fire and follow Tina to the table with sweets. Percival watches them go.

Lamorak and his mother end up talking with others, knowing the entire town as they all grew up within it. So Percival goes searching and finds Newt off on his own, leaning on the cemetery fence and looking at the candles through the yard. They’ll remain lit until the sun comes, made to guide the spirits who come to visit.

“It's a bit morbid, to think it’s beautiful in a sense,” Newt muses and Percival has to stop himself from reaching out to touch him.

“Hardly, there is beauty in all things. Death is viewed with fear, but without the knowledge that we have a limited time, I feel like we would achieve less. Take less care in what we do and how we act.”

Newt hums in agreement, eyes flickering in the candlelight. The bonfire behind them casts a heavy shadow and the candles a softer light on his face.

He looks enchanting.

His little beast on his shoulder shifts, drawing Percival’s eye, it’s long like a snake but winged with a sharp beak.

“Are you hoping to let something die?” Percival asks, feeling macabre.

“It’s thought that it won’t leave if you tell anyone,” Newt reminds him gently, voice pitched low. He looks over at Percival, the candlelight making his eyes shine, so lovely.

So ferocious.

Percival can smell the rain but he ignores it, fascinated with the man before him.

Newt’s hands are resting on the iron fence and Percival looks out over the graveyard, reaching up to rest a hand beside Newt’s, skin brushing.

“We best let it die then.”

 

Percival sees Emily with a young man at her side now. Edward, a shopkeeper's son. He holds Emily’s hand and it’s clear he’s stepping up. It’s not to say he is the father but it’s likely. If not, he is essentially saying that he will be, that he will take the place of whoever sired.

“An interesting development,” his mother comments when she comes to his side. Percival looks past her to find his children with his brother.

“She’s a nice girl, I’m glad she can be happy,” Percival replies.

“I may live in the city but I’m not so far removed that I don’t know gossip about my own family,” she tells him.

“Oh?” Percival says as if he doesn’t know.

“Yes, whispers about you making inquiries, wanting to know who put the poor girl in such a position.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have had to, a man who leaves someone like that is no proper man.”

“Yes, very noble. I’m sure it had nothing to do with rumours about Newt and Emily, since he was helping her with her morning sickness and such.”

Percival blinks down at his mother, honestly impressed how fast she must have ferreted that out.

“He’s very young,” she says again but slips her arm into the crook of his elbow. “You best be careful or people will talk. You’re very lucky they aren’t already; with how much you watch him.”

Percival tears his gaze from where Newt is across the square, looking to his mother.

“I’ll admit a bit of fun is understandable, but I doubt that’s what this is about.”

No matter how old he grows, Percival will never not be amazed by his mother and the sheer knowledge she has always possessed. He used to wonder if she was a legilimens, able to read his mind. But he knows Newt would be the least of her concerns if she could. Percival himself, very aware of something within him skulking darkly. Some part of him unwilling to face it properly.

“He is lovely, very good with the children. But he always dreamed of going far away, I’m worried you might end up heartbroken.”

“Newt would be worth the wait,” Percival replies, voice pitched low so no one overheard.

“Be careful, Percival. You’ve picked a prickly path. Although I admit, he would be a lovely improvement. Have you heard from Florence?”

“I’ve not.”

“For the best, she never suited you well. If your father could have, he would have broken it off. But we could find no way out of it and she seemed so akin to her sisters, it wouldn’t have mattered which one it was.”

Both of Florence's sisters were similar to her, not in looks but attitude. All of them raised in high society and with all the same narrow views. Florence was likely the best of them, and that was saying very poor of them. It was a shame since their father had been a good man, someone worthy of the respect of the Graves. Percival hopes he never spoils his children so that they lose proper morals and values.

“Tell me, how have the children been? I should visit more,” his mother requests and Percival is glad to look to bright things, talking about his son and daughter with ease.

 

Winter comes, the first snow falling and the garden disappearing under it. Credence is oddly sad but it makes sense. Newt had always spent more time outside than in and so have the children this year. Credence had come to adore the gardens. But Newt is able to soothe him, taking the kids outside to make snow statues and play in the snow until their giggling and happy. They make such a nice picture that Percival has to join them, helping Credence pile snow and casting warming charms on them all.

Newt’s laughing at something Tina has done and Percival thinks they make a lovely picture, a happy little family.

Would it be so wrong to keep Newt?

They go in and have hot chocolate, Percival sitting beside Newt on the couch under the guise of sitting with the kids to read. Tina sits in his lap and holds the book and Credence sits in Newt’s, a blanket wrapped around them despite the fire burning bright in the fireplace. Percival tries to listen to Tina read the story but his gaze keeps sliding to Newt. On occasion, he’ll look up and see, blushing a bit, looking so sweet as he peers up under his lashes. But then his eyes will go back to Tina and her book and Percival will try to concentrate as well.

He’s happy.

In a way he hasn’t been in a very long time.

Percival doesn’t want to give that up.

Doesn’t want to give Newt up.

Would it be so terrible?

There seems to be something between them. As if a breath is taken and held, waiting for everything to give way. Percival wants Newt so damn badly, wants to take him and keep him. Wants to push him to his bed and fuck deep into him, wants to seed and breed him. He daydreams sometimes, of Newt sobbing and taking a good pounding. Other days he wonders what their children would look like. Tina and Credence both favour Percival and he adores their looks but he thinks he would like a child with Newt’s copper curls as well.

They’re on the cusp of falling.

Percival thinks he might break one day and just jump on Newt as he walks down the hall or looks up at him with those pretty eyes. Might ravish him on the couch or table like an animal.

It surprises him when it’s Newt who makes the move.

 

They shop together, on the weekends.

It’s a chore Percival could leave to Milly and she does do most of their everyday needs. But Percival likes to go out and about, teaching the children the value of money with allowances and limitations. Credence is small for his age but Tina is shooting up, they visit the tailors often enough. Sometimes they go into the city for broader shopping. Newt usually begs off and stays home.

But on one bright winter morning, he agrees to go and follows them as they take the floo to the wizarding shops of New York. Newt trails behind them and helps Tina count her money in the toy store. He picks up a few books for himself in the book shop and ingredients at the potion shop, tonics for healing and such. Percival knows he has to eventually talk to Newt about the magical creatures he clearly has tucked away somewhere. The chandelier had been missing half its crystal one morning last week but it had all returned by lunch.

Still.  

Credence’s fixations with nifflers is a rather large giveaway. Tina as well, taken with magical creature figurines in a way she wasn’t before Newt cared for them. Perhaps it’s just Newt’s influence, but Percival is almost certain Tina has seen the actual creatures. She’s far too picky on how occamy scales should look not to have seen them in the flesh.

When Credence and Tina are trying to decide if they want to put their money together and buy a large bag of sweets or keep it separate and buy a few bits of their own favourites, Newt slips off.

Percival is an auror and he notices it, trained to, but doesn’t think much on it. Watching the man peer around the shop. The candy store is adjacent to a few others within a single large building, smaller shops parted with glass windows with snowflakes magically falling upon them.  

It’s because they’re glass that Percival notices. Newt in the Pharmacy next shop over, peering at rows of potions, seeking something out. Tina asks Percival to help count their money and he’s distracted. When he looks up, Newt is joining them again. He would let it be, but the tips of Newt’s ears are pink, embarrassed.

Percival likes to think he has good control and he knows he does in most aspects of his life. It just seems to be Newt who takes it away.

When they arrive home, the kids take their purchases to their shared room right away. Newt slips off his coat and takes something from the pocket and slides it into the bag with his books.

Percival should let it be, but he really can’t.

He doesn’t bother to even try and be sneaky about it, hooking a finger in the bag and tugging it to peer in. Newt goes red and grabs his bag away but Percival already knows that he has bought.

Condoms.

Percival blinks and looks at the lovely man, all red and eyes averted. Lust stirs in his belly and he wants him more than he can articulate.

Newt steps back when Percival moves in and he backs him up to the wall in the front entryway. Percival kisses him roughly, claiming and taking.

Newt grabs at his vest but just hangs on rather than pushing back, letting Percival open their mouths to make it lewd. His hands curl on Newt’s waist and he pulls him closer, wanting to press close, wanting to rut like a beast.

“Papa! Come help hang my occamy please.” Tina calls and Newt jerks hard, he’s clumsy and pain flourishes as he bits Percival’s lip. He leans back, tasting blood.

“I’m sorry,” Newt whispers, looking towards the hallway with worry.

Percival licks his lip and squeezes Newt’s middle until he calms a bit.

“I’m going to fuck you tonight,” he tells Newt simply, watching his eyes go wide. Percival smirks at him and then goes to help his children move their room about to add their new buys.

Newt is skittish the rest of the day but Percival is in no rush.

He wants him but he’s not so young that he’s led by his cock alone. He can plan ahead and his mind turns over the idea of Newt buying condoms.

Clearly, he wants to prevent a child and that doesn’t suit Percival at all. He wants Newt heavy with his babe as soon as possible, tied to Percival in that unbreakable way.

 

Percival makes sure his children are in bed and truly well asleep. He makes a point to spend the evening playing board games and such, letting them run around the sitting room so they’re good and tired for bed. In the end, he has to carry them both, magic helping him lift a dozing Tina alongside Credence. Newt, for his nerves, follows him and helps him settle the children into bed. Switching out their day clothing for sleeping shirts and placing warming charms on the bedding before tucking them both in. Neither wake properly enough to ask for a story and Percival knows then they’ll be out for the night.

Newt’s watching him with darting glances, tense when Percival puts a hand on the small of his back to guide him from the room. He pauses, hesitating a moment before giving up the game. He takes his green little friend, a bowtruckle, Percival had looked it up, and sets it on the table by the door. There’s a lush green plant Percival had never noticed and the little creature blends into it easily.

“A tiny guardian,” Percival muses.

“Bowtruckles are very sensitive creatures, they know when someone is around long before anyone else.”

Percival doesn't doubt it and he likes that Newt adds that extra protection to the children, his own version of wards.

His hand slithers to Newt’s waist and he’s blushing so fetchingly as Percival guides him to his bedroom. Newt hesitates and then goes towards his own, Percival not really caring which room it is.

“I want to get…”

Percival chuckles.

“It’s very forward of you, to go and fetch such a thing,” he teases gently, careful not to be too mean.

“You’re wrong,” Newt mumbles, eyes on the floor as they walk into his bedroom. The guest room remains the same mostly but there are personal touches now. Things on the dresser and sitting table, Newt’s a bit messy but his chaos does seem organized at least.

He fetches the little box from his table stand and Percival slithers close, his chest to Newt’s back as he looks over Newt’s shoulder.

“Am I?”

“Yes. My mum actually suggested it, thought perhaps it was something I should have on hand. The main contraceptive potion upsets my stomach something terrible. I’m not...I don’t know much about sex but I know potions and condoms are what prevents a child. My mum thought I should be ready, since ‘I’m at that age’ she said.”

“Why would she think that?” Percival asks but he thinks back to his own mother talking with Helen and can guess.

“I imagine your mother put the idea in her head, probably without indicating you of course,” Newt replies. He has such a docile air about him, it’s almost easy to forget how quick and observant he was.

“But also, she doesn’t want me to end up like Emily. She had hoped to go to school before she found out.”

“She might still, a child isn’t the end.”

“It’s nothing light either, a new life, a responsibility.”

Percival runs his hands over Newt’s waist and cups them at his flat stomach, rubbing over it.

“Does it upset you to think of it? Having a child?” He asks knowing full well he’s going to put one in Newt the second he can.

“One day, I suppose, I always imagined my own family,” Newt admits and Percival is relieved. He knows Newt will make a good mother, his nurturing so clear with Tina and Credence, but Percival doesn’t want him resenting his babe.  

“But I don’t want it so soon, I want to travel still, discover all sorts of creatures.”

“You could do that with a child, with proper support,” Percival points out and Newt goes stiff against him, tipping his head to look at Percival with a reading look.

So very clever.

Percival leans in and kisses him to distract him.

It takes a few lingering ones to really break him, Newt slowly relaxing and letting Percival claim him. He leans into Percival and his jaw goes slack so Percival can slide his tongue in. His hands move from Newt’s middle to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one without looking.  

“Tell me why you’re nervous of sex,” Percival asks gently against Newt’s mouth, moving to rain kisses on his neck with a worshiping feel.

“I’m not,” Newt denies with a sigh, reaching a hand to touch Percival’s face gently as he slips Newt’s shirt off and steps them towards the bed.

“You don’t have to hide, have you had a bad experience? You seem to expect pain.”

“I just… once with a... boy in school, it was… it did hurt a bit. But that’s common,” Newt reassures and Percival scoffs. One last kiss to Newt’s neck, he steps back and turns Newt to face him. The lights turn on when they enter rooms via magic but they dim without a call to keep them on. Newt’s beside lamp stays on, meaning he must have charmed it so. It casts a golden light on him and he does look lovely like that.

“Pain is most certainly not common. Proper sex shouldn’t hurt, more so with you being a dam.”

Newt peers at him trying to decide if he believes Percival clearly. There’s more to it, something he’s not telling Percival, but he’s willing to let it go. No doubt in his mind that some callous bastard convinced Newt pain was normal and expected.  

“Let me show you?”

Biting his lip so timidly, Newt nods and lets Percival ease him back on the bed. He lays down on his back, looking up at Percival looms over him. He takes the time to kiss Newt sweetly, to comfort him. Once he’s pliant and soft Percival leaves his mouth and kisses down his neck. He leaves little bites as well, not enough to truly hurt but just enough to make Newt twitch. There will be time to ease Newt into rough play another day.

Percival runs his tongue down Newt’s smooth chest, admiring how smooth he is. Dams usually are, sparse body hair and usually minding it like a woman does. Newt doesn't seem to keep up that practice but he’s got little to begin with.    

Newt sounds a bit surprised when Percival takes his nipple in his mouth. Reaching up a hand to hold onto Percival’s shoulder as he sucks him. He takes the other in hand and rolls it between his fingers, squeezing it until Newt shivers. Both of them go hard and Percival takes his time to enjoy them, his palm flat as he rubs over both. He cups Newt’s flat chest, a hint of weight there signalling he might fill with milk one day. Percival’s mouth waters at such a thought. He’s never tasted a dam’s milk in his life and it feels like an utter shame. He laps over a tip and blows on it softly spit making the sensation more keen. Newt’s already worked up, shifting in the bed and spreading his thighs, arching his chest into Percival’s mouth a touch.  

“I never realized… never did such things before,” he admits and Percival spends a moment to curse whatever fool had Newt before. Some callous idiot who had no idea how to please someone obviously.

“That’s a shame, they’re quite lovely,” Percival tells him, pressing a kiss to one nipple and flicking the other.

“I never thought they were for such things,” Newt says, biting his lip once more, watching Percival with heavy lids.

“Every inch of you is for such things,” Percival chides, taking Newt’s hand and running his tongue up the inside of his wrist, nipping at his fingers and Newt trembles in reaction.

He’s so young and sweet, it’s far too easy to work him up.

Percival licks a line up his belly and Newt trembles.

He draws it out, undoing Newt’s trousers and slipping them off his hips. Pulling his underpants as well, kissing his thigh as it’s exposed, all the way down to his ankle.

He aims to win.

Newt lets him spread his thighs wide, tugging them to the edge of the bed so Percival can kneel on the floor. He presses his face against Newt’s cock, taking in that scent and feeling his mouth water. The boy whines so delicately when Percival runs his tongue along it. He flicks at the tip, licking the bead there and nuzzling the length.

His fingers run up Newt’s thighs, letting him know as he eases them to his hole. Newt’s all wet once more but tense as well. Percival lightly nips at his cock and Newt jumps. He relaxes when Percival takes the tip into his mouth and he sucks on him as he presses his fingers to that wet hole. Idly he circles the rim, teasing him as he distracts him with his mouth. When Newt moans out, a nice loud one, Percival eases a finger into him. Newt doesn’t tense and so Percival fingers him slowly, adding a second quickly.

He stops at one point, kissing Newt’s hip as he came back down, too close to the edge.

Percival wants to fuck him and he needs Newt good and desperate to agree.

So he edges him shamelessly. Licking at his cock and fingering his hole. Pulling back when Newt’s too close. He gets frustrated fast and tries to take himself in hand, Percival grabbing his wrists and holding them to his sides.

“Let me,” Newt gasps out and Percival chuckles in reply.

He buries his face between Newt’s creamy thighs and licks at his hole tasting his slick and working Newt up as his cock twitches on his belly, ignored ruthlessly.

“You’re being so mean,” he whines out and Percival doesn’t disagree with him.

“Hush now, I’m trying to help you,” he soothes him, watching Newt blink frustrated tears. Percival takes his wand out and a quick spell makes a little pillow tear itself into a long strip of cloth. Percival takes Newt’s hands and pins them above his head, the cloth wrapping around them to keep them in place.

“Okay?” He checks, feeling no urge to genuinely force Newt into sex.  

He huffs out, looking so adorable with a pout but nods his head.

Percival grins down at him, dropping a kiss on his nose before he makes his way back down. He kisses Newt’s creamy thigh lovingly and then stands up, straightening his clothing.

“What?” Newt blinks up at him.

“Just a moment, I have a gift for you,” Percival winks and then walks out to his own bedroom. The children’s door remains closed and not a sound within so Percival fetches the custom order and goes back.

Newt’s half wiggles free, his one hand almost out. But Percival didn’t tie him to keep hold, just distract him so the tart didn’t finish himself before he got back.

Newt freezes when he sees Percival, watching him approach the bed, eyes on the little box he has.

“I had this made, with you in mind, thinking it would help,” Percival explains, taking off the lid and pulling out a sleek phallus toy. It’s small, just a bit bigger then three fingers, but it can grow as he wants it too.  

“You utter pervert,” Newt says, all red-faced and the cheek of it startles a laugh from Percival. He looks down fondly at Newt as he kneels on the edge of the bed. In retaliation, he flips Newt onto his belly unexpectedly. Newt grumbles at him but is still obedient as Percival helps him get up on his knees. He keeps Newt’s shoulders and face down on the bed, pulling a pillow over so he can rest his head comfortably. With his gorgeous ass in the air, Newt can’t rut into the bed, his cock red and aching. Percival wants to wrap a ribbon around it, to really edge him but he doesn't want to scare the darling. So, for now, this will do.

Percival fetches the small potion vial from the box he brought, warming it in his palm a moment. Newt’s watching him over his shoulder, eyes curious.

“This is to help, lubrication is important in proper sex,” Percival explains to him. Newt’s already plenty slick, but Percival wants to make sure he takes it well. He eases two fingers back into Newt and they go well, he’s tense but his hole is worked open. Pulling the stopper out with his teeth, Percival pulls his fingers back and adds a third, carefully stretching Newt’s hole open. A wink of his pink insides.

He pours the vial slowly, watching the white seep slowly pour out. It drools onto Newt’s hole and his fingers. Percival shifting them to help it seep down as deep as it can. He spreads his fingers and slowly rocks them, trying to work it into Newt. With his other hand, he sets down the empty vial and then uses the tips of his fingers to push what isn’t inside Newt into him. The milky white fluid goes, mixing with Newt’s clear slick.    

“That’s it, good little darling,” Percival croons at him. He eases the fingers inside Newt back and then slides them in deep slowly. Newt shivers in answer, his eyes half-lidded as he sighs into the pillow. Percival fingers him again, working him as he keeps Newt’s pert ass high so gravity can pull his seed down deeper into the dam.

The vial has kept the potency of it strong and Percival has been making sure to jerk off and spill regularly so he has it on hand fresh. Now he works it into Newt, already dreaming of a gorgeous swollen stomach and baby with Newt’s pretty eyes.

Picking up the toy, Percival eases his fingers back and then smoothly slides the toy in their place. Newt barely notices the transition, opening his eyes to peer back. He looks almost surprised that he has the toy in him already.

“See? No pain at all, is there?” Percival hums at him, working the fake cock in and out of his darling. Watching the smears of white and lengthening the toy via magic to push it all deeper.

Newt whimpers, hips shaking a bit now.

“Look at you, already riding it. It feels good, doesn't it?”

Newt bites at his pillow but doesn’t try to deny it.

“It’ll feel better, more intense when you take a proper cock as well,” Percival tells him, making the cock go in deeper, twisting it as he pulls it back to give Newt a good sensation. He presses the angle of it, looking for the right spot.

Newt moans out, a nice gorgeous sound when Percival hits the right spot. With a bit of concentration, Percival keeps the toy going on its own, pumping smoothly while freeing his hands. Newt’s cock is twitching, dripping its own milky drops as he ricks his hips. He looks so perfectly lewd like that, riding a toy, cock bobbing with need.

Percival takes Newt’s cock in hand, pausing to spit into his palm to help with the motion. Newt’s slick has made a mess already, running down his little ball sack and along his cock.

His hands are clutching the pillow he’s hiding his face in, muffling his moaning even as he thrusts back to meet the toy inside him.

Percival takes Newt’s cock at the base, fingers curling around it as he puts his other hand right under the head, gently rubbing it against his palm as he strokes downward. With careful concentration, Percival enlarges the toy fucking Newt. Not enough to be anything startling or even noticeable, but enough to open him wider and push down deeper. With that sensation and the hands on his cock, Newt comes in a matter of thrusts.

He buries his face in the pillow fully, whole body going tense and still but his hips pumping frantically. Percival takes him through the release, kissing Newt’s creamy ass as he collects a handful of come in his palm and works his hand hard to milk every last drop from him.

After a long moment, Newt goes slack, slumping into the bed. He falls onto his side unable to hold himself up and Percival lets him. He reshapes the toy in Newt into a plug, a small portion inside him with a flared base then a small bit sitting just outside his hole.

Newt’s sweating, a faint sheen on his skin that looks so fetching, lips parted a bit as he gasps in air. His eyes are closed and Percival watches them flutter open and look up at him. He can see their wet, tears clinging to his lashes, Newt’s a crier during sex and Percival finds he likes it far more than he should.

“Felt better than you expected, didn’t it?”

Newt huffs out but looks more amused than annoyed.

His gaze falls to Percival’s erection, straining against his trousers.

“Turn over, onto your stomach?”

Newt hesitates before he goes, pausing and biting his lip in a worried manner. He goes, presenting that enticing ass up. But he’s still nervous and Percival has no interest in upsetting him.

So he undoes his pants with a muttered spell and then takes himself into his hand. The same Newt had spilled on, warm seed smearing over Percival’s cock. Dam seed is near infertile, Newt likely won't ever sire, but he still spills. Percival knows it was silly to think he sired Emily’s baby, but his jealousy over Newt isn’t logical. Something about him, about Newts dam’s seed, excites Percival terribly and he groans out as he masturbates. Thinking of how he worried, but here he is, the one in bed with Newt now. Throwing a leg over Newt’s thighs, he straddles him and rubs the head of his cock against Newt’s ass.

Newt hides his face in the pillow again, shoulders tense.

Percival can’t help but ease the toy out of him, watching it come with a wet slurp and seeing a rush of milky slick some after it.  

Newt makes a round, reaching out for the condoms left on the stand.

“Hush, we won’t do that yet,” Percival tells him and he can see the way Newt’s body loses the majority of its tension.  

“Reach back for me,” he instructs, taking Newt's hand and guiding him. “Both hands now.”

“Hold yourself open,” he says, making Newt pull his cheeks apart so his pink hole winks at Percival. A dark pleasure twists in Percival, not just from the feeling of his own hand. But from the sight of that white smear, of his own semen already deep in Newt.

Percival pressed two fingers into Newt, opening him up and pressing until he hits that place and Newt jolts a touch, oversensitive after being edged.

“You’re so gorgeous here. I’m going to have to get a mirror and show you, make you take a look,” he mutters and Newt whines, shaking his head.

“It’s been so long since I wanted like this, perhaps not ever, I’ve never needed anyone like I need you,” he confessed, utterly truthful as he speeds up and presses the head of his cock to Newt’s hole, nudging his finger holding Newt open.

The feeling of it, all slicked and warm is more than enough to finish Percival and he grunts as he comes. Low sounds pulled from his chest. He doesn't close his eyes, intent on watching. White spurts against Newt’s hole. He pulls his fingers out and pressed in, sinking down and shuddering as he comes.

“Stop,” Newt jerks but Percival grabs at his ass and pins him to the bed.

“Just the tip, don’t worry,” he manages to reassure, feeling his cock twitch as it pumps into Newt, pours seed into his fertile body.

Panting for breath and body feeling fragile, Percival lowers himself to his elbow, kissing Newt’s shoulder as he looms over him. With care, he sinks down slowly, letting the length of him disappear into Newt.

“See, look at how it’s going, you’re taking it so well,” he praises, kissing and licking at Newt’s shoulder as he gently seats himself into Newt, down about halfway, careful not to be rough.

Newt’s trembling, biting his lip and blinking back tears.

“Does it hurt?” Percival asks urgently, Newt shouldn’t feel pain, he’s stretched and it might burn a bit but not enough to really hurt him. If there’s something wrong, Percival will have Newt sent to finest healers to fix him up so he can enjoy a good fucking. The dam should love sex.

Newt breathes a moment before shaking his head.

“Not like… not like that time,” he confesses and Percival breathes out, relieved. He rocks a bit, back and forth, but he’s going soft so he eases back out. He wants to eat Newt out now, making him come a second time with seed mixing with slick.

“You said… I wanted to use condoms,” Newt says softly, looking unhappy. Percival chuckles and drops a kiss to Newt’s brow. He knows he went further in his lust but he also knows Newt knows next to nothing about sex.  

“It’s fine,” he lies calmly. Laying on his side and facing Newt, petting his hair soothingly.

“I didn’t go deep enough, coming on you or in you a few inches won’t be enough. I need to be fully inside you when I spill.”

Newt blinks, peering at him a moment.

Percival is taking a risk, Newt can be surprisingly clever at odd times, and he catches lies very quickly. But then he nods his head and relaxes into his pillow.

“I didn’t know that.”

“The chance is one in a million,” Percival adds. “If you want, I can order a potion for after sex if you're worried?”

Newt thinks a bit, unaware of Percival holding his breath internally, waiting on the next words.

“No, if it’s not needed, I’d rather not. I get terrible stomach aches and cramps from them.”

Percival wonders when Newt took a potion last, if his harsh lover had fucked and come inside him callously, making Newt rush for a cheap potion.

“I’ll order a few anyway, keep them on hand just in case,” Percival says reassuringly. He already made them, duds, not a single one will prevent a child.

Newt gives him a soft grateful smile and Percival just has to kiss him.

 

Nothing changes in many ways. Newt still takes care of Percival’s children as he did before. Percival still goes to work and comes home each evening. Their lives continue on much the same.

Only now at the end of the night, they don’t sit in the library and read together. They end up in one of their bedrooms, lustful and eager. Percival doesn’t push Newt to let him fuck him. It’s clear he’s had a bad experience and Percival wants Newt to see how good sex can be before he tries to have him. So he sucks Newt’s dick and eats his hole out. He licks every inch of him and teaches Newt all the ways he can come. When Newt asks, Percival lets him nervously explore him. Let’s the dam run curious fingers over his body, exploring and touching as he pleased. Newt meekly sucks his cock and Percival coaxes him, praising him and teaching him how. Little darling. Percival always finishes on Newt’s hole, fingers pushing in his seed afterwards. He opens him up with the toy and holds that pink dam cunt open as his comes seeps down into him. Percival wonders sometimes if he can convince Newt to let him use a speculum on him, to hold him open with it and watch his seed sink in. But Newt only lets him have so much, convinced Percival can come on him and finger it in but nothing deeper, worried about getting pregnant by accident.  

Percival wonders how someone so bright and astute can be so naive.

After they're done with sex, Newt won’t stay the night, always going back to his own room or shooing Percival to his own. The kids always wake first and Percival understands Newt’s worries. But a part of him rebels against the idea. He wants to sleep curled up around Newt. Not that he would even if Newt would let him stay. While he doesn't mind a nice after-sex cuddle, Newt likes to push away and curl up to a pillow rather than fall asleep entangled, he explains. He knows from sharing a bed with his brother when he was younger. Theseus being always a hugger and Newt never one for it. After so long sleeping alone, Percival can appreciate it, he likes Newt close by, but after a bit he usually wants to shift away. It’s nothing to do with sex or affection and everything to do with personal comfort. They’re well matched in that as well, ever a perfect pairing in Percival’s mind.

He does worry sometimes; about how much he adores Newt. It’s gone far beyond mere lust now, Percival wants Newt as a husband, wants to keep him.    

He will keep him.

A part of him frets though, about what will happen if Newt tries to leave, how far Percival will go to keep him. He’s never been this way before, never broken laws or done such manipulative things. But he can’t stop himself.

He doesn’t even want to.  

 

Yule comes quickly, time seeming to jump in leaps and bounds. Percival’s work life is ever busy but he knows he’s not giving it his all. It’ll look bad but he feels like he can afford a bit of slack in his career. Right now his mind is focused on his family life, on spending more time with his kids and helping to make up for their mother being gone, more so around the holidays. He’s been watching them carefully, looking for signs and he’s not sure what to think, that they handle it so well. Florence seems more like a distant aunt to them than a mother who lived with them for all of their lives.    

For two weeks during Yule and Christmas, the schools send home their children and Percival, in turn, allows Credence and Tina to have that time off without their tutors. They are given an assignment over the break but for the most part, they visit his family and have playdates with others. It’s a time of socialization for them and also for Percival to address any known issues arising in their learning. So when Tina and Credence are visiting his mother in the city for the day, Percival sits down with the two tutors who work with them and spends hours going over their strengths and weaknesses and how to best address and help his children.    

Tina is predictably a mix of stubborn excitement. She decides something is right and refuses to see reason at times. When she’s overeager, she jumps without looking. The children aren’t allowed wands yet but they can have moments of magic. All children do. The tutors help the kids learn to focus that into control. To be able to call their power to hand when they need it. While his daughter can rush forward, her tutor reports that she has been very focused and intent on control. The man is impressed with her and he tells Percival plainly that she has a gift.

Credence is surprisingly struggling.   

The tutor explains that he thinks Percival’s son is suppressing his magic for some reason.

Which is dangerous.

Suppressed magic comes in raw bursts of emotion. Temper tantrums take on a dangerous degree, can harm people. Credence isn’t one for anger but no one is immune. Newt has never mentioned anything like this and Percival hopes that it means this is a new problem. That Credence holding back has just started and they can quickly curb it and show him magic isn’t to be feared.

It happens sometimes, around Credence's age when kids begin to understand they have to hide their magic from no-maj. That they are a small part of a much larger world. Not all children like the idea of having to hide themselves or the realization they will all their lives.

In worst case scenarios, children with uncontrolled magic are taken into special facilities to help control them. They're fear-based places where kids are locked up and few ever learn enough control to leave. A terrible product of the magical world’s fear of exposure.

Percival swallows down a horrid fear and goes over with the tutor the best ways to help Credence. The man is a retired teacher form Ilvermorny and reassures Percival that Credence is only showing signs and that it’s likely they can help him.    

They just need to use more obvious magic, to show Credence more spells and such, to help him link it with positive emotions all while helping him learn better control.

Credence and Tina have always loved magic, and when Percival or Newt showed them little tricks they were always pleased. Percival hasn’t done much magic for them in last few months and perhaps Newt hasn’t either.

Either way, they’ll correct it right away.

Percival won’t lose his son. He would flee the country first.

Newt listens to Percival’s explanations with a calm face, nodding his head and asking questions. Once that’s done he insists they got into the city and buy all sorts of books on the issue. After that, they purchase more magical toys, more everyday things that run on magic. After speaking with the old toy maker that had been working when Percival was a boy, they also by beginner magic tools, feathers for floating and little foam balls to call to hand. Children don’t normally practice magic so young but in this case, Percival is allowed to let Credence use his own wand to try within their home.

“It’ll be okay,” Newt tells him as they pack everything back to the house.

“I know, but I… what if this is all over Florence?” Percival sets down the packages in the main sitting room and slumps into his chair, running worried hands through his hair.

“Credence isn’t the first boy to lose his mother and he won’t be the last,” Newt says softly. “If it is over her, we’ll face it and help him overcome it. He has us doesn't he?”

Percival nods his head, looking over at Newt and feeling his heart swell so much.

He’s in love with him.

In love with this darling who talks of helping his son with words like “we” and “us”.

 

Newt takes Tina for a walk a few days later, into town, and Percival settles Credence in for a talk.

“I’m sorry,” Credence whispers when Percival explains to him what’s going on. “I’ve been trying my best to control it.”

“Credence,” Percival breathes, gathering his son from the couch and pulling him into his lap. He’s only six and still so small and delicate. He shouldn’t have to worry about such things this soon. “You’ve done nothing wrong, my boy.”

“I tried,” the boy mumbles, tears in his eyes as Percival hugs him close and soothes him.

“Hush, it’s okay. You’ve nothing to worry about, Credence, I’m here and I’m going to help you,” Percival assures him.

“Help?” The child asks, pulling away to look at Percival as he nods and wipes his son’s tears away.

“Of course, did you think I wouldn’t? You’re not in trouble or anything either. Your tutor told me you need a bit more practice is all.”

“To control?”

Percival shakes his head, offering Credence a warm smile.

“To have fun,” he corrects.

 

When Newt and Tina come back from walking to the shops for something Newt had ‘needed’, Credence is trying his best to float a feather.

Percival helps him, a hand around his son’s as he guides him. Credence has Percival’s wand in hand, it’s been muted of course, barely able to make much more than a strong gust of wind.

“No fair!” Tina cries and rushes to Credence and Percival’s side, demanding a turn.

Percival allows her, making sure it’s a fun game more than a lesson. His son and daughter listen raptly to his explanation on how to do the small bit of magic and then take turns trying. Credence seems happy, focused on his attempts and not shying away from the magic.

Percival dearly hopes his son will be okay, that this is just a minor set back.

“Very impressive,” Newt tells the children as he sits with them. “Did you know that Wrackspurts float by their very nature. They're born that way.”

“Floating?” Tina asks incredulously.

“Yes, floating along, it’s their nature you see, like how our magic comes to us naturally as we grow.” Newt offers Credence a soft smile and the soft boy returns it, fingers gripping Percival’s wand tightly.

They spend the rest of the holiday practicing, Percival giving them both toys meant to help them harness magic. He stays away from talk of ‘control’ and instead tries his best to encourage his son and daughter to let it flow freely within their home. He shows them the house wards and makes new ones that will absorb any stray magic so the kids know if they make a mistake it won’t break anything or damage the house. Credence seems cheered by that and Percival wonders once more what has happened to make his son scared. A part of him wishes Florence was around so he could question her, ask her what she told his child about magic when he wasn’t there. They speak with the old nanny as well but she reports nothing odd, that Tina and Credence always liked magic and never acted oddly about it growing up. So for now, Percival can only do his best to support his kids and teach them in the safety of their home. Where no one will see his little wizard and witch. Percival longs for the day when they won’t have to hide away but he knows it won’t come in his lifetime or theirs likely either. Magic born and no-maj are still too far apart to ever unite.

But maybe someday.

Percival would like to believe in that one day.

 

Winter solstice comes on the second week of the children’s break. They’ve decorated the house with evergreen to symbolize life in winter and wreaths to celebrate the wheel of the year going around another turn. Christmas is beginning to edge in more, with pretty decorations like glass bulbs and coloured lights. Magical kind incorporate it easily, happy to make things bright and wonderful. Percival’s never cared a great deal and the kids love it, so he lets Milly do the house up. No-maj are taking to it and the magical kind are slowly introducing their own traditions to it so they don’t have to hide as much. When Percival was a boy, Christmas trees didn’t exist outside magical communities and yet now he sees them in no-maj shops each year.

He gives Tina and Credence a gift of new clothing, a fancy velvet dress and smart little suit. They accept their clothing with polite ‘thank yous’, ever good children. Percival puts sweets in the pockets to soften the blow. Because his son and daughter know there is only one reason they get clothing.

Because they must wear it.    

Newt tugs at his own proper tie, all done up nicely as he accompanies them to the MACUSA Yule celebration, a family event. It’s not odd at all for Percival to bring his nanny with him and he takes a certain sort of pleasure in buying Newt a nice outfit as well. He accepts it with a mumbled ‘thank you’, as delighted as the children. Percival wonders if he should have put candies in his pockets as well.

Still, Newt wears it and they all look well put together as they head to the city in a flying carriage. Credence and Tina at the windows, watching the world go by beneath them. Once more a large but mild storm has rolled in to hide the magical transportation from no-maj. So the kids mostly see clouds but are happy for even that.

“Do you attend many events when you were younger? You must have with Prometheus being an auror for so many years.”

Newt sighs a bit.

“I did but I also was able to remain home once I was old enough for it.”

“I recall, your father said once you’ve no taste for large events.”

Newt nods his head.

“Crowds unnerve me, so much noise and people pressing in close. I’ve always felt overwhelmed.”

“What do you do?” Credence asks, too young to be so keen on such a subject, Percival thinks.

“Mostly I stay home when I can. And when I can't, I stay close to my family,” Newt tells him with a fond smile and Credence takes the information in carefully.

“We won’t be long,” Percival assures Newt and his son, fixing Credence’s tie. “A quick dinner and a few hours after and then we’ll be home in no time.”

Credence looks reassured while Newt remains skeptical but doesn't voice it with Credence listening.

The event is a busy one as it ever way, with hundreds upon hundreds of people and their families wander the massive ballroom set up. It looks spectacular of course, snow falling over a starry sky along the ceiling, trees all done up with exquisitely detailed decorations.

The kids take it all in, eyes wide but ever cautious. They know this isn't like when they're at home, where they can wander off a bit and don’t have to worry about strangers. Percival prefers the celebrations in the little town, they feel more genuine. But he can’t skip out on every event MACUSA holds, and so here they are.

By arrangements made beforehand, Prometheus and Helen sit with them for the dinner, letting Newt visit his parents and still help cut up food for the kids.

Prometheus is good with kids, good with everyone really. Tina and Credence have always liked him over the years and he listens with a kind patience as they tell him all about their year. Florence leaving never comes up and no one seems to mind. Instead, the children tell the stories of spending the summer in the garden and trying their father’s wand.

“Did you meet any beasts?” Prometheus asks knowingly and both of Percival’s children giggle and then clam up.

“You’ve trained them well,” Helen notes wryly at Newt and he pretends like he can’t hear her. Taking bites from his plate and blinking his eyes as if he has no idea what they're talking about.

“Yes, well, he likes to think he’s sneaky, but he really isn’t,” Percival comments and that gets a laugh from Newt’s parents. Helen is sitting beside Newt and leans in to whisper something to him.

Percival notes how much they look alike. Helen is obviously older but she has a natural beauty about her that crow’s feet can’t fade. Bright green eyes and milky skin, freckles dancing on it and copper curls pouring down her neck. Newt clearly takes most of his looks from his mother, both of them lovely to look upon.

After dinner is done and the desserts have come and gone, the children are sugared up.  

There’s a children’s area, where they can make their own wreaths and decorations. Newt uses it to escape polite conversations, taking the kids and staying with them, helping.

Percival is almost envious but he knows he has to put in the work. So he makes nice, chatting with important people. He checks in on the aurors who work under him and meets their children. Some are surprised to learn he has his own but most hide it well enough. Percival listens to old men in powerful positions go on about nonsense, a polite smile in place, pretending as if he’s fascinated. He works the room, knowing promotions will come from these moments, when people meet him briefly and gauge the sort of man he is.

Newt keeps with the children, never leaving their sides. His mother eventually joins him, talking with him as they help the kids assemble decorations. Percival tries not to be distracted but as the hours slip by, he finds his eyes going to them more and more.  

“Lovely pair, aren’t they?” The man he’s talking with comments, following Percival’s gaze.

“Prometheus is a lucky man,” he adds and Percival fights a frown, forcing a smile and nodding his head. He takes a drink of his champagne as the man, a young idiot in a high position via his family, smirks at Newt and Helen.

“Their boy is rather pretty as well, for a country type. I’ve heard rumors that he’s a dam.”

“He’s twenty,” Percival replies, tone a bit shorter than he wants.

“Of course,” the man replies, covering his slip quickly and moving the conversation along. Percival finds a reason the leave him after a bit more of his yapping. He drops off his empty glass to the nearest house elf and stops off in the bathroom, washing his face with some cool water and thinking he should head home soon. His mood soured by the comments about Newt.

But Percival never can leave anything alone.

So he goes back out and lurks around, walking and eavesdropping. It would be foolish to use a spell with so many aurors and powerful magic in the room. But people underestimate the normal methods. Percival walks among the younger men and listens to them mutter about the gorgeous women and speculate whose wives are loyal and whose are cheating.

After a while, he finds the right group, catching the words he’s been looking for.

“A young dam, Prometheus’ boy. Just ripe for the picking,” someone mutters and others chuckle.

“Utterly boring but gorgeous no doubt, his mother’s looks,” another says.

“A dam though, a nice wet cunt on him, look at him, babying kids already, ready to be carrying them, I could help him with that.” The idiot says and his group all laugh, looking over at Newt as he looks after Percival’s children. He feels their gaze and looks up, they avert their eyes and seem caught when Newt waves. Percival returns it and the little pack freeze, up realizing who was around the corner.

It’s crass talk and plenty of men do it, but to speak of Newt in such a manner, more so at a family event. Percival eyes them all and makes a point to commit their faces to memory. They all watch him walk off, going to Prometheus side and muttering to him. The old man’s gaze locks on the group who are all clearly embarrassed and a few walking away quickly.

“Talking filth of Newt and Helen, I’m afraid, best watch that lot.” Percival tells the man in warning, nodding his head and continuing on to where Newt and the kids are. Credence and Tina show Percival what they’ve made eagerly and he admires their creations appropriately.  

“Shall we head out in a bit?” Newt asks, seeming a bit too eager to go.

“Not yet,” Helen cuts in. “Would you mind if I borrow Newt for a bit?”

Percival would rather go home and fuck him into the bed but he smiles warmly and nods his head. Percival settles at the table with his son and daughter and the three of them make a wreath with the supplies offered. Percival uses magic to amuse them, spelling the decorations brighter and floating them, making them dance as the kids giggle in delight.

All the while, he keeps an eye on Newt. Watching as Helen introduces him to various young men and women. Jealousy turns in his stomach but Newt is clearly unhappy with it all. Sipping his drink as a way to avoid conversation. Percival almost winces for how much alcohol Newt is gulping down. Helen almost steers Newt towards some of the men talking lewd earlier but Prometheus stops her, speaking in her ear. She looks faintly alarmed and stays clear of them after that.  

It takes them forty minutes before Newt manages to slip away and return to them. Percival has been keeping an eye on him but also having fun with his children. He has some sort of magical glitter all over his arm and Percival doubts it’ll ever come out of the suit jacket. But Tina and Credence, Credence rather excited when he’s usually more subdue, present Newt with the wreath. The kids babble about what they’ve put on it and Newt smiles at them fondly.

Percival gets the kids up and ready to go in record time, carrying a yawning Credence in his arms as they make their way back to Prometheus and Helen.

“So soon?” Helen frets over her son and Percival motions to his own kids, both looking tired now. Tina clutching her wreaths while Percival carries the other things they’ve made.

“We’re done for the night,” Percival explains. “If you wish to stay,” he begins to Newt and he shakes his head quickly. Helen sighs out but looks so endeared as she straightens Newt’s shirt a bit and then kisses his cheek.   

“Think about it,” she tells her son and they all exchange goodbyes and good nights.

Once they're loaded into the carriage, the kids pass out almost immediately. Percival holding the two curled up against him as Newt sits across him and looks out the window at the snow.

“What was your mother hoping you’d think on?”

“Courting,” Newt admits easily. Percival feels that jealous possessiveness rise up once more, snapping its teeth in anger.

“No one catch your eye tonight?”

Newt makes a huff and looks at Percival, peering at him a moment.

“It’s not really about courting,” he tells him. “Mum doesn’t think I should go running off into the jungles. She thinks I’ll be killed.”

“To be fair,” Percival begins and Newt’s gaze snaps to him. He’s a bit bold, showing just how much he's drunk that night.

“Your mother was convinced Theseus would be killed in his first week of being an auror.”

Newt blinks and then fights a smile.

“She worries; some people are like that. It’s how they show their love.”

“I know, she frets over dad all the time. I just wish she wouldn’t press in so, always sure she knows what I need.”

“She means well,” Percival reminds and Newt sighs but nods his head.

 

They get the kids into bed, tucking them both in, even changes into sleeping gowns, they're a mess of sparkles and glue. They’ll need a good scrubbing tomorrow but Percival won’t wake them for it tonight. Easier just to clean to the sheets then have two grumpy kids in the bath.  

Percival pulls a bottle of mulled wine from the cellar and then has Milly make some hot chocolate with liquor in it.

Newt is tired but accepts a glass of wine as is the tradition for Yule. They sip at it and talk about Credence’s magic and how he’s doing, how they can help him improve.

Milly brings out shortcake biscuits that have been soaked in milk liquor with the hot chocolate. Newt’s not one for sweets, but he does like hot chocolate during the colder winter days. So he sips it and munches on shortcake.

Percival can see Newt is a lightweight, all wide eyes and relaxed shoulders. An adorable little drunk.

“You know, don’t you?”

Percival pauses, thinking of blood on stone, rain pouring, and he glances up at Newt. His expression is soft however, open and vulnerable.

“About my creatures.”

“Ah. A niffler for certain, an occamy I suspect, those two, the bowtruckle. Who else have you been keeping underfoot?”

“M’not keeping them,” Newt frowns, mouth working a moment, certainly very tipsy.

“I’m not, keeping them,” he says again with careful pronunciation. “I've been running around the forests around the town since I was a boy. It’s magical you see; you must know that though. I meet them, creatures in need. I’ve always taken them home and helped them heal up.”

Newt slumps back into the couch, a very fond and pleased smile on his face, eyes far away.

“I help them. I only want them to have a fair chance. So when I find beasts in need, I take them in and once they're strong enough, they head out on their way.”

“Never lingering?”

Newt scrunches his nose up and sighs out.

“Pickett, my bowtruckle refused to leave. And the niffler won’t stay gone either, not when he knows this house is filled with shiny things. I’m a bit worried Credence is letting him back in, I can never seem to shoo him off permanently.”

Percival leaves his chair and sits beside Newt, thigh to shoulder. He lifts his arm so he can hug Newt one armed, tucking him into his side.

“I don’t doubt it; he’s become very pro-niffler this last year. Tina as well, they both adore creatures now and I’ve no problem with it, not really.”

Newt hums, pressing his cheek to Percival’s chest and rubbing it absently.

“I know; it’s why I like you so. You’ve al’ways been that way you know? I rem’mber when I was a boy y… you refused to let those hunters on your land. Sai’d the forest was a safe hav’ haven with all who had magic, not ju’t people.”

Percival thinks back, trying to recall the memory. Something old and distant, some idiots wanting access to the Graves forest to hunt. They said they were after something dangerous but Percival had been sure it was for sport. A vague old memory that he can’t recall Newt being there.

Newt sighs out, snuggling in close, his hands going slack on his mug. Percival eases it free and helps Newt stand up.

“Alright, let’s go to bed then, we’ve both had a lot to drink,” he tells Newt who yawns and nods. Letting Percival lead him down the halls to the second floor and bedrooms.

Newt dowsn’t even really realize when they went into Percival’s room rather than his own. Crawling into the bed as Percival directs and curling up against the pillows. Percival casts warmth charm and Newt snuggled down with a happy sound.

Percival follows him, pressing close to Newt and kissing the back of his neck, his chest to Newt’s back. The other man sighs, giving Percival room to work. Dotingly, Percival helps Newt out of his tie and vest, suspenders and a crisp proper shirt. He toes off Newt’s shoes and gets his pants down and off.

The fire lights up in his fireplace, pouring heat and a soft light into the room. Shadows dance around them as Percival kisses Newt’s ear and starts undoing his under clothing, another shirt and thin pants to help fight the heat.

Newt hums, not denying but half asleep as Percival puts a hand on his bare thigh, Newt naked now. Little darling sighs, blinking owlishly as Percival kisses his neck more, lips lingering and tongue tasting him.

“Tonight?” Newt mumbles and Percival kisses his cheek sweetly.

“Very much so, the drinks are in my head and you looked so lovely tonight,” Percival explains as he cups Newt’s ass and squeezes, shifting his hips to slot tightly against it. His cock going erect as Percival rubs up against Newt.

He sighs out again, not quite awake as he tries to press kisses back. It’s sloppy and something about the lack of coordination is exciting Percival. He cups Newt’s cock, half hard and strokes him, rutting against his ass as well, trying to excite him.

Newt manages to get an erection but he doesn’t come anymore awake.

It’s wrong, how hard it makes Percival.

He eases back and rolls Newt onto his back. Yanking off his own tie and vest, undoing his shirt cuffs and rolling them up. Newt watches with half-lidded eyes, peering up at him as Percival arranges himself between Newt’s thighs. He takes a pillow and tucks it under his hips, propping Newt up. When he reaches between Newt’s thighs, he is wet, hole dripping slick. Percival rubs at him and Newt moans, eyes fluttering.

Percival eases two fingers and Newt doesn't tense up at all, relaxed and sedated on the alcohol. So Percival fingers him with one hand and calls the toy to him in the other. The box comes, locked with a spell because Tina is a great bothersome snoop. Percival gets it open and takes the vial of his seed, yanking the top out so he can pour it over his palm and use it to slick Newt more. He takes a certain sort of pleasure in this, working Newt open with semen, pushing it deep into his fertile body.

He slicks the toy and presses it to Newt’s dam cunt, pushing with care. Newt does tense up this time and Percival drops his head, arranging himself to go low and kiss Newt’s belly. He licks at his cock and Newt gasps out, arching into the feeling.

“Percy,” he whines out and Percival grins, taking the head of the cock into his mouth without hands, sucking at it as it slips away. He chases it, nosing at it and lapping at the length. Newt’s all caught up in that and when the toy presses in, he doesn’t seem to realize it.

Percival sucks at Newt, not enough to get him off, enough to keep him focused on the pleasure as he also begins to fuck him with the toy. He lengthens it and very slowly begins to increase the width.

When Newt whimpers, eyes slipping closed again, Percival leaves his cock and goes lower to watch the toy disappear into the darling. His pink hole is stretched so wide around it, taking it. Percival presses in and licks at it, rimming Newt as the toy keeps a slow and steady rhythm.   

“I can’t, Per’cy,” Newt’s squirming on the bed now, hips rolling as he pulls at the bedding. “You’re so terrible, so me’an, teasing, always teas’ng.”

“You tease me,” Percival replies, sitting up. “With those bedroom eyes and this gorgeous body, you’re so damn perfect and you don’t seem to realize it.”

Newt shakes his head, denying it as Percival leans over him to press soft kisses to his lush mouth. Newt opens up immediately, kissing deep, tongue sliding and spit on his lip.

Percival frees his cock with one hand, sitting back a moment to fetch a condom in clear sight of his lover. Newt takes a sharp breath and shivers, looking uncertain as Percival rolls it down onto his cock. He smears more of his seed over it to help it glide more easily.

Going back down he kisses Newt, over and over until he’s relaxed again, all hazy eyes and soft smiles. His long fingers in Percival’s hair as he leans in to lick at Newt’s pretty neck. He slides the toy out of him and nudges his cock against him. He nips at Newt’s neck enough to make him jolt and then relax.

When he relaxes, Percival pushes in, the head of his cock going after a moment’s pressure. Newt whines, shifting on the bed and Percival kisses him soundly. Laying over Newt, he nips at his lip and his one hand takes hold of Newt’s cock. Pumping him and doing his best to work him, twisting his hand as he strokes and running fingers over the tip.

Newt’s blinking back tears, but not from pain. He’s too hazy to realize it really, letting Percival kiss him but not really responding. So Percival pushes his cock forward, sinking in a bit more and Newt whimpers.

“Shush, it’s okay love, just a bit, just a little bit.” he breathes in Newt’s ear, working his cock to distract him as he nudges a bit more deeper.

“Doing so well, so perfect, it feels so good, so good Newt. I never knew anything could feel so good,” he babbles a bit, words falling freely with Newt so out of it. Percival slowly sinking into his pretty lover, his future bride.

His.

Newt makes a soft sound, shivering a bit but his thighs don’t try and close. He lets Percival in.

“Just a bit more, going so good,” Percival rains kisses onto Newt’s cheek and chin, kissing him deeply as he pushes the last inches in, up to the hilt now, finally in him.

Newt blinks, looking around and peering at Percival.

“That’s it, you did it, you did so well, so utterly perfect darling.”

He takes a bit of time to enjoy it, feeling the heat and pressure around his cock. Knowing that he’s inside Newt. Inside a little dam cunt that he’s going to breed. If his seed hasn’t already taken. Percival nuzzles Newt’s hair and he mumbles at Percival, eyes all heavy again, drifting.

What else can Percival do, but ease back a bit and then thrust in. Newt gasps out and Percival grins as he begins to fuck him, a light rhythm, short motions and nothing too hard. Relaxing. Newt’s fingers are on Percival’s shoulders now, clutching his shirt. They go loose slowly, drifting down and letting the tension fade. Newt gradually unwinds, the fear in him fading away. His breath goes easy and he lets Percival ride him.

A harder motion will wake him right up but Percival wants it to feel good for him, wants Newt to have a hazy memory of pleasure. He strokes his cock lazily, working Newt’s erection in no hurry, just enough to keep him giving happy little sounds, moaning out as his eyes fall shut. He shifts a bit trying to get comfortable. Percival knows Newt’s going to pass out soon.

His fingers leave Newt’s cock and reach down around his own. He pulls back, slowly sliding from that tight heat. He teases Newt a bit, only a few inches in, rocking back and forth. Newt grumbles shifting hips down and wanting more unconsciously.

Darling thing.

Percival’s finger digs under the rubber of the condom, pushing it down to the tip still in Newt. He slips free, the head coming out as Percival blindly pulls the condom off. He takes hold of his cock and pushes back into Newt bare. He sighs and doesn’t wake enough to notice, Percival doubts he can even tell properly aware.  

Sinking in deep, Percival savours the moment, bare inside Newt. He kisses Newt’s ear lovingly and begins to fuck him. Hips pumping in longer strokes now.

Newt whines out, blinking awake, a hand coming up around Percival’s shoulder. The harder he fucks him, the more Newt reacts. Beginning to moan sweetly as he’s slammed into.

It’s a nice wet sound, a slapping of skin meeting, over and over, Percival knowing it’s his seed that’s making it so sloppy.

“My darling, sweetheart, you feel so good. Feel so perfect around me.”

He can’t hold back, knowing what he’s doing, knowing his bare inside Newt.

He kisses him suddenly, rough and claiming, as he rams in as deep as he can and comes. Newt breaks the kiss with a gasp, eyelids fluttering. Percival groans out, riding the pleasure of the moment. Even still, he has the sense to jerk Newt off, hand rough and fast.

“You’re so good, better than anyone else, better than she ever was,” Percival hisses out, utterly sincere.

It’s more than enough, Newt comes with a loud cry, hips rolling, fucking themselves on Percival’s cock as Newt spills all over his own belly. Once he finishes, Newt slumps into the bedding and is almost immediately fighting yawns.

So fond, Percival kisses Newt’s nose as he slides back and pulls free from him.

Newt blinks at the sensation, peering down between them.

“Did you?” He looks around, eyes falling on the condom wrapper. Percival reached between them and finds the discarded rubber.

“Of course,” he lies, showing Newt the used thing. He relaxes when he sees it, slumping into the bed and yawning again. Percival carefully gets off the bed without disturbing Newt too much. He dozes quickly as Percival undresses. He slips into a sleeping shirt and fetches one for Newt. Newt grumbles at him when Percival moves him, but lets him dress him for bed. He’s fast asleep before Percival even cleans the bedding up.

So Percival fetches another vial of seed.

Newt doesn’t wake as Percival gently nudges him onto his stomach, the pillow still under his hips. His pink hole gleams, so delicious with the milk smears of seed and his own slick. Percival can’t help but sample it. Newt doesn't stir at all as he eats him out a bit, tonguing him and then using two fingers to open him up. He pours in the vial and then uses the toy to push it all deep, making it thin and long. It doesn’t wake his little love and Percival takes his time, watching the dam’s hole as it opens up and takes the seed deep.

He uses two vials and is worked up enough to jerk off.

Percival kneels over a sleeping Newt, trying to be quiet as he strokes his cock. Peering down at his pretty hole, fingers pushing at it and pulling it open. Percival rubs the head of his cock against Newt’s opening. Groaning out at the sheer depravity of it all.

Embarrassingly quick, he can feel the release coming over him. He pushes the tip into Newt and he shifts but his eyes remain closed. Percival leans over him and sinks in, right to the hilt, cock twitching and pulsing. He doesn't thrust but just gently rocks in small motions. It’s enough to make him come and he hisses out, breath held tightly as he tries not to make a sound as he comes. Filling Newt up, pumping into him, working so hard to put a baby in him.

“Darling, my sweet little love,” Percival whispers, so in love as he waits through the aftershocks, wanting every last drop inside Newt. Once he’s done, he eases out and puts the toy back in, shaping it like a plug to remain snug. He pulls Newt’s sleeping shirt down over his gorgeous ass and tucks him into the bed.  

Newt sleeps as Percival gets up and goes into Newt’s room. He had bought his own condoms already but Newt still has his own little box. Percival finds them tucked in a bedside drawer and with care, he used his wand to open each wrapper and pierce the tip of everyone. If they don’t rip outright, they’ll leak. Thinking of their baby and how good it’ll feel to hold another little child, Percival smiles as he meticulously puts the wrappers back together. They look exactly as they had and he puts them into the box and back in the drawer, humming a lullaby he sang to Tina and Credence long ago.

It turns out Newt is a deep sleeper, not waking when Percival joins him in the bed. He puts Newt onto his side and then eases the plug free. Percival cleans the room of any signs of sex and then uses a damp warm cloth to wipe the seed trickling from Newt’s hole. Percival reads a bit and checks until it stops. He sends the washcloth to the laundry and pulls Newt’s sleeping shirt down around his thighs before he settles into sleep.

The sun is just beginning to light the sky as Percival dozes off with Newt in his bed.

 

As he figured, he wakes to soft voices. Percival is tired but in the best way. Victory running through his mind as he blinks his eyes open and peers at his son and daughter. Tina and Credence are at the side of the bed, looking at them both.

“Is Newt gonna be our new mom?” Tina whispers to him. Percival checks and Newt’s still sound asleep so he winks at his children and they giggle in bright excitement. Percival makes himself get up and take the kids to breakfast. Milly already has it served up and Percival conspires with his children, telling them he hopes Newt will be their new mother but they must all do their best to make him want to stay. Percival doesn't make promises but lets his kids know there is a chance. That he thinks Newt would make a lovely mother for them and they both eagerly agree.  

Newt wakes with a nasty hangover and Percival babies him for the day, the kids happy to play quietly in order to show they can be good.

Good enough for Newt to stay.

 

“Did we?” Newt asks much later, when the kids are back in bed and it's just Percival and Newt sitting up, both reading. Newt’s embarrassed clearly, but unable to not ask the question burning in him.

“We did,” Percival replies, playing at his own embarrassment. “I’m sorry Newt, I was a bit more tipsy than I realized, I never intended to go so far.”

Newt chews his lip, looking to the fire.

“It’s okay,” he finally says. “We were both… tipsy. I don’t recall much, but I know it was much better than my first time. Did we… use… did we,” Newt’s all embarrassed now, so fetchingly red.

“We used a condom,” Percival assures him and Newt sighs out.

“Good, I’m glad. I… I’ve been worried about having proper sex and it doesn’t seem to be so bad as I recall.”

“Sex really shouldn't hurt,” Percival reminds him gently. “I imagine far less people would want it if it hurt them.”

Newt blinks, staring at Percival a moment. “I hadn’t thought of that before,” he says.

“Trust me in this, when we have sex again, you’ll see. You’ll tell me if it hurts.”

“When we,” Newt repeats and manages a sly little smile. “So forward, Mister Graves.”

What can he do then, but kiss his darling sweetly. Side by side on the couch, making out like teenagers. Newt breaks off first, sighing out, letting Percival kiss his neck but not responding.

“I’m far too tired,” he admits. “And I’m still slightly ill.”

“Of course,” Percival agrees, pressing a kiss to Newt’s brow before looking down at the book he had been reading.

“What’s this about?”

“Hmm? Oh, it’s about dragon mating habits actually."

Percival tipped the book to peer at the title and author.

“You like this writer,” he notes and Newt looks so fetchingly surprised that Percival noticed.

“Yes, Edwardus Lima is a wonderful magizoologist. He believed in protecting creatures and that humanity is their greatest threat, us included.”

Percival tucks the name away carefully.

“I would say we’re our own greatest threat as well, never can leave things alone, can we?”

Newt smirks, tipping his head back to look at Percival.

“We really can’t,” he agrees.

 

The little break for the holiday ends, and the children begin working with their tutors again. Credence’s remarks that he is doing much better from before the break and encourages Percival to keep helping Credence accept his magic and embrace it.

Relief makes him giddy and Percival beds Newt happily that night. They have sex and while Newt’s still tense, he’s not as bad as before. They get into a habit of having a nightcap together, a nice potent drink that helps Newt relax a bit more. It also makes him a bit unobservant and he never notices that Percival used broken condoms or slips them off during sex. He just lets him fuck him and begins to enjoy it more and more.  

The new year comes and Percival is surprised that a year has almost gone by already.

“You need to begin your paperwork,” his mother tells him during a visit. Newt and the kids playing in the snow on a warm Saturday afternoon.

“Paperwork?”

“It’ll be a year soon, the standard for divorce by abandonment,” she tells him and Percival looks from his little family to his mother.

“You can’t keep ducking away from it. You need to face this. Florence has run off on you. If she came back tomorrow, would you take her back? Pretend it was all as it was before?”

Percival can’t help but look back at Newt, disgusted with the idea of going back to his miserable life before everything.

“I never realized, how unhappy I was,” he admits. “I love Tina and Credence and I’m thankful for them every day, but I’d settled into an empty marriage.”

Magdala nods her head, taking a sip of tea.

“I can see it as well, you remind me more like when you were young and full of life again. I’m happy for you, even if you’re cradle robbing.”

Percival can’t deny that.

“But if you want a future you need to let go of the past. You need to take the steps to properly divorce Florence and sort out any issues with her family.”

“Issues?”

“She was the youngest, but she was one of three and her sisters who only have four children among them.”

“Two each, contract standards,” Percival sneers.

“Either way, your children might stand to be in their inheritance and a divorce would change things.”

Percival shakes his head.

“No, I dealt with this ages ago. Tina and Credence have both been taken from it. I didn’t want her sisters snooping around trying to manipulate them. Or their dreadful mother. My children are Graves children and will inherit from our family alone. After their father died, the sister fought over it and so I took them out of it all. I don’t know what Florence has in her name, but I signed off on letting it go back to her family if she passed or such.”

His mother frowns, looking out at the kids, playing in the snow and happy.

“Was that wise?”

“Our family can support my kids. If I drop dead, I don't doubt you will take care of them. Lamorak if you die with me. If we all perish we’ve almost twenty cousins. I’ve written them all in order by who I trust. This house is in Credence and Tina’s name so they’ll always have it and Milly has sworn oaths to them as well, before any other Graves.”

“You’ve thought of this,” his mother observes.  

“I’m an auror,” Percival replies. “We all face the chance of death. I worried with Florence being greedy. She knew every penny of the Graves would go to Tina and Credence and not her.”

“Even still, you need to submit for a divorce. Did you have anything for that?”

Percival sighs out and shakes his head.

“I meant my oaths, I’d never had any intention of leaving my wife.”

“Perhaps it’s a good thing. That she left then, you do seem so much more happier.”

Percival offers his mother a soft smile.

“Perhaps it is.”

 

Knowing his mother will never let it be otherwise, Percival goes and gets the paperwork to file for a divorce on abandonment and full custody of his children.

“Grim things,” Prometheus says when he sees what Percival is looking over.

“Necessary however. If she returned and tried to take my children from me…” Percival trails off, anger twisting in his gut.

“Of course, understandable. You know I’ve helped families with this before, wives and husbands that come through looking for advice.”

Prometheus has a big heart and he helped people on his own time. Mainly victims of domestic abuse. Percival envies him, able to find the calm to focus and help them. He finds it hard to distance himself in the same way. To smile at a man while his wife stands beside him with a black eye and they all know how it got there.

“I can help you, these forms can be tricky, more so with no real proof of where Florence is.”

Percival sighs, knowing that was what would be the hardest part.

Without Florence to say she didn’t want custody; few judges would just grant it over to Percival. Not if he didn’t have a good reason. And for some blasted reason, he knew abandonment might not stand. Percival didn’t want to admit it, but he knew he might have to promise things in order to get the papers through. Ever a game in the world of law and politics.

 

“That’s a lot of paperwork,” Newt notes a few nights later, Percival working in his home study.

“It’s a pain, but it must be done,” he tells him, letting Newt come and look at the forms spread out on his desk. “I need full custody of my children.”

“Why?” Newt inquires, picking up a form to look it over. “This seems like a lot of work, multiple visits and home inspections?”

Percival nods, leaning back in his chair and shifting to wind an arm around Newt’s middle and hide his face against Newt’s belly. It’s late and Percival is used to spending his evening with Newt now. How he had ever spent years bent over this desk mystified him now.  

“Florence would be able to try and have shared custody, even divorced, she could demand it.”

He feels Newt go still against him, a hand running through his hair. Newt doesn't speak a moment.

“She won’t come back, Percival.”

Percival sighs out, eyes closed as he breathes in the scent of Newt’s clean clothing and the faint tang of his skin. The rain pouring down and the bloody body on the stone path, the broken window and Newt’s bare feet in the grass.

“I know,” he breathes, as much as a confession as he will ever admit. “But it’ll be odd for me not to worry.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.”

They haven’t spoken of it all, not properly. But they probably never shall. The less clear the memories are, the better. Percival can be hauled in and questioned and he can honestly say he doesn’t know anything. All the best criminals use the same method, taking their own memories so they can’t be caught in a lie. Because they don’t recall it.  

Percival isn’t sure what Newt knows and what he doesn’t, but there’s not a real reason for anyone to suspect him. He wasn’t even involved with their family before and was hired on after Florence left them. Just a work friend’s young son, looking for a job, a favour to a family.

He may care more, may want to chase those memories, but Percival has all he needs to know and so he makes himself accept that.

Credence and Tina asleep in their beds are his first clear memory. His wand out as he tends to the marks on his son.

Welts from a belt.

They don’t recall it, any of it.

And Percival will protect them to his dying breath, he’ll give everything he has for his children. It doesn’t matter if he killed her or if it was Newt, all that matters are his children are safe.

Percival believes in the law.

But his family comes first.

Always.

“Don’t worry on it,” he says finally, sitting up and flicking the papers back into his case. “I’ll deal with this, make sure my children are mine and that I’m divorced from her properly.”

“It makes sense, in case she returns,” Newt says, the lie rolling so easily. Percival worries a bit, at how easily Newt can say something and he knows he doesn’t mean it at all. But it’s not a worry that follows him. Everyone has secrets. Newt helped him protect his children and for that, Percival will always owe him more than he can ever give. It makes it obvious, why he fell in love so fast and hard, this darling young man. Percival loves his children and someone who cares for them will, of course, be his focus, become what he desires.  

It doesn’t help that he’s so damn gorgeous.

They leave the study and Newt doesn’t fight Percival when he takes his hand and tugs him into his own room. He’s been coaxing Newt to sleep with him more. To stay the night. Percival has a decadent bed and it’s more than large enough for them to sleep without being pressed together uncomfortably.

Still, the best way to make Newt stay the night is to fuck him out beforehand. Once he’s good and used, he slumps over tired. It’s easy then to clean him up and settle him into Percival’s own bed. After the first handful of times, he stops resisting. Realizing that Percival won’t crowd him in the bed and that they can sleep together without touching. That Percival won’t be offended.   

He makes it work, closes the gap between them a little more.

 

Percival keeps his side project at work, lest Newt catch on to him. Edwardus Lima is an older man and while he had a praised career as a magizoologist, he isn’t overly wealthy either. Percival can’t help but smile when he learns that.

“Close a case?” Some who catches him grinning like a fool asks. Aurors busy in the new year.

“I’m about to,” Percival replies easily.

Lamorak agrees without pressing for details, ever one to help Percival when he can. In return, Percival helps him with their mother, keeping her from hounding her younger son to hurry up and marry and settle into a respectable career. It’s not like Lamorak may end up on the street, the Graves wealth is too vast for that. So Percival minds their mom and his brother lives up the high life.

He does plenty of charity work, happy to be in the spot life. He makes nice with all sorts of filth and Percival thinks Lamorak would do well in politics. Able to smile and look good for the camera and hand out subtle threats when people try to manipulate him for his family name or wealth.

Either way, he announces the creation of the fund and there's a little ceremony. They award Edwardus Lima and he shows up for the bit of paper and fat check. Percival strikes immediately and it’s not that hard at all. He had been ready to argue and bribe, to do whatever he needed to. But the old man is happy to accept.

Newt loves magical creatures, he really does. And if Percival wants him to be happy he has to incorporate that love into his plans for them.

Their little town doesn't allow anyone to settle, it’s carefully regulated to prevent no-maj from moving in accidentally. It only accepts applications from magical families rather than just letting them in. It’s grown over the centuries, and can now be picky. They don’t want a large population; they want the picture of a sleepy town that has little happening. They want people to see them and think it would be dreadful to live there. Too many people would make them seem growing, lively.

So only so many people are allowed to move in, to set down roots and build homes. The Graves had founded the place, back when the magic born where still new to the land. They’ve always held sway and Percival puts a word in and Edwardus Lima is easily invited and approved to retire there. Him and his wife, a home opening up and it’s just what they want, a nice cabin on the edge of the town, a quiet place. Percival made sure it was everything the old man had dreamed of.

Percival hires him on personally, a slow paced retiree job for extra income. He pays him very well for a days work a week really. To explore the Graves forest and document the creatures living there. It is honestly a unique place. Many people with illegal beasts took them to the forests and release them when the laws began to be enforced more seriously. Generations of witches and wizards let their pets go deep in old forests, there were some already established as magical and Graves’ forest was one of them. As a result, there are countless species not native to the land within, many thriving and doing well. Sometimes they make enough trouble that they need to be dealt with, but mostly, the forest minds itself.

It’s the perfect sort of place for a magizoologist to study.

Edwardus Lima is an old man however; he can’t just run around wild terrain anymore. He will need someone to help him, someone to do the groundwork.

Newt takes the news with a blink and soft ‘huh’.

“Mum had figured,” he mutters, looking at the letter and back up to Percival. It’s late out, the kids in bed and just the two of them. Newt is on the couch and Percival is in his chair. He likes to be close to Newt but also knows the man needs his space to be comfortable.  

“Oh?”

“She’s not a fool you know; she did catch on quickly that I was canoodling with you. Hence the condoms and such.”

“And condoms lead to job offers? I barely had anything to do with either.”

Newt spares him a look for the lie, utterly seeing through Percival and they both know it very well.

“She knew you would try and find a reason to keep me here, was betting on it really.”

“She was right, I’d do anything to keep you,” Percival admits freely and Newt looks at him a moment.

“I know that much, I can’t help but notice I’ve been nauseated all week.”

“Oh?” Percival hadn’t known that. He makes plans immediately to have pregnancy tests arranged, a healer to stop by.

“You are aware I know how condoms work?” Newt says wryly and Percival freezes, feeling distinctly caught. “They should have seed in them when they’re used properly. And a book on basic sire and dam biology outed your nonsense about what needs to occur for pregnancy. ‘Just the tip,’ really, Percival.”

Newt’s not happy but he's not mad either, Percival can see that. He’s worked up but he’s not betrayed and deeply hurt.

This isn’t new information to him.

“You knew,” Percival breathes and it shouldn’t turn him on but it really does. His cock twitching as Newt gives him a look.

“Of course I did. You’re not as sneaky as you think, looking at my belly as you do, daydreaming of babies no doubt.”

“I’m an old man, I don’t have many years left to sire,” Percival says, teasing a bit and Newt gives him such a dry look. Percival grins, pushing the little table away so he can slip to the floor and kneel before Newt.

“I couldn’t let you escape you know, run off on me before I could make you mine. I’ll give you all you want of course,” he promises and means it. “I’ve paid for a mentor to come to you, a few years at least before your big trip. Once the baby is older I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Pay for it all and teach Credence and Tina of the world as well. ”

Newt watches him, chewing his lip. His eyes have that sharpness to them, the meekness put aside as he peers at Percival, so utterly astute.

“You paint a pretty picture.”

“I’ll do more than paint,” Percival swears. He reaches into his pocket and fetches the little box. He’d gotten it from the vault a while ago and carried it around, just in case.

“I thought to wait a bit longer, the papers for the divorce aren’t finalized yet.”

He opens it up and shows Newt the ring, a simple band with intricate patterns on it, ever moving and weaving through one another, like a snake slithering Percival had thought when he saw it.

“I’m in love with you,” he tells Newt properly, down on one knee. “I’d have you has my husband if you’d like.”

Percival’s heart twists when Newt hesitates, looking at the ring with open worry.

“You don’t have to decide now, there’s no rush. Even a few years is fine,” he reassures Newt quickly.

“I can’t help but worry sometimes,” Newt whispers, looking at the ring. He reaches out and touches it, a fingertip along the cool metal. “How much of this is all because of that night.”

Percival blinks and then his shoulders relax as he smiles in relief.

“You’ve nothing to worry about in that. I hadn’t recalled enough when I hired you and I knew I wanted you the second I saw you in the shower,” Percival explains as he takes the ring out of the box and takes Newt’s pliant hand.

“I knew I loved you when you said we would help Credence with his magic together.”

He slips the ring onto Newt’s finger and he peers at it.

“That long? You were trying to get me knocked up before that, weren’t you?”

Caught.

“I wanted you, I wanted a husband who I desired, I knew love would come soon enough. I wasn’t even surprised to realize it, knowing I had to have you.”

Newt frowns at him, his keen eyes working quickly, making choices as he looks at Percival.

“I’m not something to be bought.”

“Of course not, you’re a niffler that's found a good home and wants to stay and a bowtruckle that’s happy where he is, who he’s with.”

Newt blinks and actually blushes a bit, making Percival grin. Of course that would be what moves him.

“I love you Newton Scamander, and I would face the wrath of your father to have you. The frowns of the town for snatching up such a young sweet man. Theseus sending me howlers and the whole rest of it, just to keep you.”

Newt inspects the ring and finally sighs, giving in and Percival grins harder. It’s not something overly romantic, but it’s real and that’s far more important. There are a million reasons why Newt could refuse him but he’s not. It’s far ahead of what Percival had planned but Newt’s not saying no.

“Very well, you terrible man. I’ll marry you. And have your babies as well, I suppose.”

“We can hire the nanny back,” Percival says and Newt gives him an unimpressed look.

“I suppose I love you as well,” he adds in a softer tone, eyes still so sharp but also honest and warm.

Percival sits up and leans in for a kiss, Newt answering it tenderly for all his frowning and hesitation. They part, brows still touching and Newt smiles at him, blinking tears away.

Percival can’t stop grinning, giddy with success.

 

The kids are delighted when they hear the news, peering at Newt’s ring and both very happy. It’s rather obvious they knew this was coming, expecting it really. Newt can’t even imagine what Percival has told them, he’s such a sly man. Still, Newt’s heart jumps a bit when Credence shyly asks if he can call Newt ‘mum’ now. It’s not something Newt ever expected, to have two kids at the age of twenty. But he loves them already and can’t find any reason to say no. This prompts Credence and Tina to hug him tightly and there are tears in plenty of eyes. Percival watches them all with such a smug expression.

Newt sort of wants to pull the rug out from under him, he’ll find a way. Maybe let some creature stomp through the house. For now though, he lets him have his victory, Newt with a child in his belly and two more clinging to his hip. All three sired by Percival.  

It had been a bit silly, with Percival telling Newt such lies about sex. As if Newt hadn’t helped his mother make healing potions most of his childhood. As if he had never read a biology book about his own body. But it had been so very good, the man so determined to breed Newt and tie him to him. Perhaps if he was trying to use Newt and discard him, he would have cared more, but Percival never had been that sort. So honourable. Living with a woman he didn’t really like for his wife and never once even thinking of stepping out on her. It would have been such a shame to leave him like that.

Newt had only intended to replace the nanny in the beginning. Introducing Emily to the young man passing through town and looking for a bit of fun. She was eager and swayed by a handsome face, easily seduced. Edward, the shopkeep had been in love with her for years and Newt knew he would help her. So he gave her an after potion that was mixed to fail and had just planned to wait until the Graves needed a new Nanny. He put the idea in his father’s head as well, talking of trying to find work to help save up money.

And then it had all gotten out of hand so viciously fast.

He knows Percival doesn’t fully recall that night, barely knows anything and is oddly content to stay that way. Most aurors would chase the memories but then Percival is very good at his job. He likely knows the less he recalls, the more he can deny.

Newt had grown up running through the forest, wandering through the trees and discovering all sorts of creatures. He loved it. Sometimes he would wander closer to the houses, seeing families go about their lives. Newt can’t recall when he fell into the habit, but he watches the Graves from time to time. The way Florence slept in a separate room from Percival. As a boy, Newt noticed, but never connected it to sex. Not until he was a teenager did he realize that Percival Graves wasn’t having sex with his wife. Newt’s dad worried over the other man at times. Talking with mum over dinner about how Percival seemed to use work as a shield, a way to hide from his unhappy marriage.

Newt never thought about it until he began watching the house more, Percival Graves was a private man, but he left his curtains open a lot. Nothing obscene like Newt was a peeper or something, just… he would sleep in just sleeping pants in the summer. His bare chest and shoulders distracting to Newt a he walked around his room and got ready for bed.

He discovered his sexuality, watching the man. They’d run into each other sometimes, in the town or at work things Newt’s dad made him go to. He had known Percival for years and at some point, a crush had developed. Newt would daydream of being his wife, making sure Percival was happy, no empty marriage or separate rooms.

But it had just been daydreaming.

Newt would walk the forest during certain times to document the creatures within. In the winter he bundled up and settled to watch rare birds sing and wampus’ hunt deer. In the hot heat of summer, he would sit in trees and watch nifflers bath in streams and bowtruckles sip moisture from flowers. In the rain, he wanted to see murtlaps burrowing into the mud. So he wandered during storms, walking barefoot through the lush forest, feet sinking into moss and rain puddles.  

He hears the great crack, almost like thunder but after so many years, Newt knows the difference. The sound of wood breaking and glass shattering. He takes off, coming to the back of the Graves’ house, the second-floor window and wall blown out.

Florence Graves is on the ground, blood seeping around her. There are bits of wood and glass sticking through her, cutting her all up. Newt approaches her, barefoot still and careful of the mess. He thinks to call someone, to yell for help, but then he sees it.

A belt.

Of all things, a belt gives him pause. It’s in her hand, folded over once and held at the ends. It catches his eye because Newt knows the way she’s holding it. It’s how many people hold them when they hit their poor horses or dogs, when they beat creatures.   

Worried, Newt looks up to the second floor and his heart stutters when he sees Credence Graves, a little boy. He looks utterly horrified but even from how far he stands, Newt can see welts up his arms.

Florence had been hitting Credence.

Percival comes out a moment after, face white and eyes so filled with rage. Newt had flinched, thinking the man was mad at him. But then he had his wand out and was waving it, fixing everything. Newt watched him bundle the body in a sack, Newt’s eyes wide and feeling very unsure.

He knows he should go to his father, tell him.

But his mind keeps thinking of Credence’s arms.

They went in from the rain, the house elf utterly hysterical and the children crying.

“I didn’t mean to,” Tina sobs. “It just happened, it came out of me and I couldn't make it stop.”

“She was hurting him, she wouldn’t stop, she wouldn't stop,” she repeats like a broken record. It sounds so terrifying to Newt. Something about a child's voice so ruined, so broken.

“She was hurting him, I couldn’t let her. Why would she do that?”

“It’s okay, don’t worry. Dad’s here,” Percival tells her, kissing her hair and clutching her close, clutching them both to his chest. “It’s going to be okay; I’m going to take care of this.”

Newt stands there, feeling so awkward and intruding as Percival calms them and then takes his children’s memories. With great care, he touches his wand to their heads and takes all of the bad memories of their mother.

Until they barely recall her.

Next, he swears his house elf Milly to secrecy. Makes her take an oath to protect Credence and Tina above all other things.

Newt supposes that was what moved him the most. That Percival Graves made the house elf swear to his children rather than himself.

Percival put the kids to bed and Newt feels odd to follow so he stands back out in the rain, watching it slowing down now. He looks at the sacks on the ground, all wrapped up like a plant in winter. It almost looks so innocent but then there are red stains seeping still. Spreading over the stone walkway, so Newt steps onto the grass to avoid it, watching the rain wash it away slowly.

When Percival returns, he looks so lost, staring at the body. Newt can’t imagine it. His wife abusing his children and a daughter killing her by accident, trying to defend her brother.

“They’ll… They’ll take Tina away, lock her up in one of the horror houses.”

Percival looks hollowed by the mere idea and Newt understands. Facilities for children who can’t control their magic are horrifying, like muggle insane asylums. They don’t treat the kids like people there, less than animals even. So scared to be caught, locking up children who just need help.

“I can’t let them take my child,” Percival whispers.

Newt watches him, rain soaking the man, running down his face like tears with no end.

“Everyone thinks she's cheating on you,” he blurts out. Percival looking at him, staring at Newt a moment. “The town… they talk about it. About if you’ll ever leave her or if she’ll run off. They all know she’s bored here. That she wants to be someone fancy and without anyone to hold her back.”

Newt swallows, feeling a bit dizzy with the terrible idea forming in his head. He’s not the sort to be like this, to think of evil things. But his father and brother are both aurors. They talk sometimes, about cases, about the ones unsolved.

“No one will look for her, not for a long time,” he whispers.  

They take her out into the forest. Percival carrying her body rather than using magic that can be traced. The rain washes away the blood dripping and Newt shows Percival the path to walk that won’t disturb the forest.

He takes him to the old ancient bit of stone.

“It's a mausoleum,” Percival says when Newt shows him.

The Graves have one in the main cemetery, however, supposedly the first and only one.

“It was for… it’s fitting,” Percival sounds a bit more like himself, not so shocked and hollow. “My family buried the family members they refused to let into the main one. Murders and lawbreakers, the terrible ones.”

Percival opens it with a bloodline spell, only a Graves can open it. The bodies aren’t covered or marked, just shallow shelves of skeletons. Forgotten. They put Florence in, push her into one of the spaces and then seal it back up. Percival sinks it, makes it disappear into the earth, hidden away.  

Like it never happened.

They wash up at the stream, Percival wiping away the blood clinging to him. Hands shaking in the cold water.

“Will you let me take the memories?”

Newt considers it and then shakes his head. The cold beginning to seep into his bones a bit. He’s soaked to the bone and it’s getting harder to fight shivers, even with warming charms.

“I should take yours,” he explains. “They won’t have a reason to question me, but one day they might ask you.”

Percival takes that in, thinking it over and shutting his eyes, hiding from what they’ve done.

“You can’t tell anyone, not a word of it,” he says and Newt nods his head, knowing very well he can never breathe a word of anything that’s happened. That the people who will suffer the most were Tina and Credence. Percival and Newt may be jailed for hiding it for a bit, but it will be Tina they will come for. The family will be destroyed.

They are good people; they don’t deserve such a terrible thing.

Tina has made a mistake but she isn’t dangerous.

The threat is gone now.

“I... whatever you want,” Percival says and Newt blinks at him. “I’ll give you whatever you want, money, magic, travel papers, whatever you could ever dream of, I’ll give you.”  

“Anything?” Newt can’t help but ask and the man nods his head, looking so tired and ruined. Newt thinks of all that money could give him, but he knows he would never. Not with Percival looking so small and broken.

“I’ve always wanted, dreamed…” he hesitates a moment. “I’ll make an oath with you, an unbreakable vow, to never tell anyone anything, if you’d…”

Percival looks at him and Newt flushes.

“I’ve always wanted a kiss from you, just one.”

The man stares at him, just stares a moment before he breaks into a laugh, tears streaming down his face. He takes Newt’s face in his hands and leans in, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. Newt savours it, happy with just that reward for the lie he’ll carry for the rest of his life. Percival keeps their brows touching as he pulls back and peers at Newt. Looking at him so oddly, as if he’s never seen Newt before this moment.

“I’ll help you,” Newt promises, taking Percival’s arm in his own. “No one will know, we will protect Tina and Credence. For them, I’ll never tell anyone, so they can be safe. They deserve that.”

Oaths usually require another but they make it with just them, Percival powerful enough to do so. The marks of magic appear and then fade away, hidden so no one will find them.  

Percival kisses Newt again, longer this time, pushing him back against the moss. He doesn’t ask, but Newt doesn't stop him. Percival is shaking terribly, coming apart. He pulls Newt’s shirt open and he lets him.  

It hurts.

Newt’s mind is more on the fact that he’s sworn to hide an accidental death. He’s not excited and when Percival pushes into him, taking his virginity, Newt cries out because it hurts. Percival doesn’t seem to hear, somewhere far away as he shoves into Newt, over and over. So Newt grits his teeth and bears it, hugging the poor man close and soothing him as he sobs.

“Thank you,” Percival rasps, hips jerking into Newt. “Thank you so much. I’ll repay you somehow, give you everything you could want. I’d marry you if you want that, I’d love you forever. I’d have a family with you, I’ve always wanted more kids, always wanted another baby to hold. Thank you, Newt, thank you.” He babbles all sort of things, as if his mouth is spilling his thoughts without knowing it.

Newt hushes him, feeling something so calm in him, wanting to be strong for him. He’s never seen Percival so upset before. He pets his wet hair as Percival kisses his neck. Newt reaches with his other hand for his wand.

“I think I’ve loved you since I was a boy. I won’t betray you, Percival Graves, I’ll help you keep your family safe,” he swears gently.    

Percival nods his head, shuddering and breaking apart as he spills inside Newt. He doesn’t flinch when Newt presses his wants to his brow. Looking down at Newt.

“Focus, concentrate on taking the death and where we put her. I can recall bits of the rest, but I can’t know who killed her and where we put the body.”

Newt nods his head and does his best.

Percival is dazed as they go back to the house. He goes upstairs without a word, mind still muddled from the spell. Newt watches him go and hopes he’s made the right choice.

Milly dries his clothing and swears to Newt that she’ll look after the Graves and so Newt goes home.

His father is working late and his mother looks up when he comes in.

“Newt, it’s so late, I was worried.”

Newt stares at her, mouth opening and closing. He doesn't mean to, but the tears come anyway. His mother, ever such a wonderful person, just pulls him close as Newt sobs against her. She gives him a potion to calm his nerves and snuggles him to her chest on the couch, the fire roaring and blanket around them both. She waits until he’s cried himself out and is just curled against her like a child before she asks anything.

“Newt, my darling, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“I…” Newt swallows, thinking of the band on his wrist and all the promises he’s made so suddenly. Of a dead woman’s lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. Blood washing away in the rain. He shivers.

Percival thanking him over and over, the burn and pain of him sliding inside Newt.

“There was a man, Emily and I were talking with some of the nomads,” he whispers. Thinking of the magical people who come and go through the town. Selling their wares a few weeks and then moving on. Newt really had talked with them as well, helping Emily find a lover, just a few weeks back. Newt thinks of the girl, likely pregnant and not knowing it yet.

“And?” His mother prods.

“I need a potion,” Newt says, sitting up, eyes wide. “I need an... after potion.”

His mother stares a moment and then goes and fetches one from her stores. She likes potion making, has a real talent for it. Healing potions are what she does best and she sells them in the town, a little hobby. She gives Newt an after sex potion and he drinks it down. Stomach feeling like it’s cramping immediately.

“Do you… should we go see a healer? Call an auror?” his mother asks him, so gentle and caring.

Newt’s confused a moment, thinking she somehow knows, sees through him. That she can tell he saw someone die and helped move a body.

Then he realizes it, she thinks he was raped.

Newt shakes his head, thinking of Percival kissing his neck.

“I... no. it wasn’t like that. But it was bad. It hurt.”

Helen Scamander watches him a moment before nodding and then bundling Newt off for a hot shower. When he gets out, she has his favourite soup waiting and gives him a healing potion. Newt’s stomach doesn’t like any of it and he’s sick most of the night. His mother looks after him like when he was a little boy. For some reason the doting doesn't bother him, he actually appreciates it, her soothing hands and calm voice grounding him.

His father frets when he gets home but lets his wife look after Newt.

The days go by slowly. Newt's not sure what his mother told his father, but they're both careful with him, stepping gently and not pushing him about proper careers and dating nonsense. They let him be and Newt is grateful for it. The weeks go by and he feels as if he can continue on with life.

He begins to feel normal, his world slotting back into place.

Then his father asks if he would like to work for Percival Graves, the man needing a nanny short notice. Newt had nearly dropped his spoon when his father mentioned it over dinner one night. Everything had changed and Newt knew he shouldn’t but in the end, he just couldn’t resist.

 

“Mum?” Credence says and Newt blinks out of the old memories, looking to the boy. He smiles and lets Credence snuggle close to his side. The ring on his finger gleams and Newt’s parents are coming over for dinner. They need to tell them, about the marriage and child. It won’t be easy, but Percival is determined to make it all work, to somehow win them over even as he snatched up their son. Newt’s mother has an idea but his father had remains blissfully oblivious to who his son is spending his time with.    

Newt thinks he should get ready soon, help the kids get ready. Credence and Tina have never shown any sign of recalling anything. They might when they’re older, but Newt doubts it. Percival is far too skilled at magic to make a mistake. Newt was far more clumsy at it. He knows Percival remembers bits and pieces, enough to put together a picture. Newt is almost sure Percival thinks one of them did it and not the kids. He won’t even let himself think it, so protective of them. It’s endearing really.

Newt does love him very much.

He likes to think Percival loves him as well. That he doesn’t recall swearing to marry Newt out of gratitude. It doesn’t seem that way at least, the way he looks at Newt feels real.

Percival appears at the doorway of the library, watching Newt and Credence with such a deep fondness.

“We should get ready,” he rumbles and Credence sighs but gets up, going to his father and then off to his room to put on clean clothing. Percival watches him go and then looks back at Newt. There’s such a heat to his gaze, such a possessive edge, as if he wants to devour Newt whole.

Newt is sure it’s real, this dark love the man has for him.

Percival crosses the room and dips his head to kiss Newt.

Nothing like that day, cold, numb lips.

It’s warm and soft, possessive and hungry.

It feels real.