fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme | Prompt Post #1

Despite later claims by Porpentina, the first thing that Newt Scamander, illegal magizoologist, actually said to Graves was “Oh. I really didn’t think that there were two of those.”

Graves looked around quickly, wand cautiously raised. One of Grindelwald’s ‘silos’ of stored and mostly illegal paraphernalia had turned out to also include an acid-spitting two-legged ostrich-sized lizard, whose spit had dissolved, unfortunately, much of said illegal paraphernalia, a desk, several chairs, and Newt’s clothes. The lizard was asleep, bubbling gently beside the stairs, clutching the virulently pink flower bulb that Newt had thrown at it right before he’d been drenched.

“I meant your coat,” Newt explained. “I presume that you’re the real, ah, Director Graves, then. Tina did say that she was sending in some back-up, although I really should’ve remembered that the protective gel I rubbed on wouldn’t have transferred its efficacy to my clothes. Oh dear. I’m glad Pickett didn’t come along today.”

“What about my coat?” Graves said, a little bewildered by the torrent. Tina had warned Graves about Newt’s ‘eccentricity’, and for the first time in her life, in Graves’ experience, she’d actually managed to completely understate the issue.

Newt smiled encouragingly at him, not in the least concerned that his clothes were still melting off him in handfuls. “It’s a very nice coat,” he said, sounding determined. When Graves merely stared, Newt deflated visibly. “This isn’t working, is it? I asked Ja… er, I asked a friend for tips on being more likeable, and he said, try to compliment something about them, and I thought, that does seem logical, but I’m afraid the results have been rather spotty.”

Graves bit down on a sigh, and put his wand away. “Did you bring your case of creatures?”

This got him a guilty look. “Maybe?” Newt hedged, when the blasted case was clearly in a corner of the room, behind the staircase, tied with string.

Graves gave up. “Just stash the coatl in there and I’ll forget that this happened.”

Newt stared at him in surprise, even as his sleeves melted off. “You know what it is?”

“I went to university…?”

“Oh,” Newt said excitedly, “but you took the magizoology class.”

“What about it?” Graves asked suspiciously. A great deal of magical contraband, after all, was either crafted from magical beasts or were trafficked parts themselves. “I did very well, thank you. And by the way, if you don’t wash all that off with water in about five minutes, you’re going to develop a terrible rash, even with the gel.”

A quick Aguamenti and a hot air charm meant that although Newt was now acid-free, he was also extremely naked, freckles and all. A little reluctantly, Graves handed over his coat, which was a touch too short for Newt and far too broad at the shoulders. “This is a nice coat,” Newt told him, as they picked up the sleeping coatl cautiously and manhandled it towards the case.

“Yes, you’ve told me. I expect it returned in one piece, if possible.”

“Of course. Ah. If I may ask. If you went to Ilvermorny… Professor Ah-ho-appa?” At Graves’ cautious nod, Newt smiled brightly. “She’s amazing. Without her collated knowledge from her people—”

“She didn’t like me,” Graves cut in bluntly. Ilvermorny was a long time ago, and not all of it kind. This managed to shut Newt up, all the way until they’d deposited the coatl in Newt’s expanding suitcase, a type of device that Graves had never trusted and which always, also in his experience, tended to be used to transfer magical contraband. Of the highly illegal sort. Unfortunately, at first glance, Newt’s case was certainly not an exception.

Newt was rummaging in a set of crates. “I was very sure that I had a spare set of clothes around here,” he called, as Graves stared sourly at a huge Erumpent.

“What’s an Erumpent doing here? Don’t they tend to blow things up?”

“Only during the mating season. She’s recovering from a poaching injury. Almost well now. They’re dying out in Africa, did you know? First them, then the rhinoceroses will be next. And the elephants, too, eventually. People have this… hm, not this box… awful love of ivory. Never understood it. You might as well make a collection of toenails. Same stuff.”

“Human toenails don’t make things explode.” Graves paused, thinking this over. He’d seen his share of unusual explosions, working his way up MACUSA. “Normally.”

Of all things, this got a laugh from Newt, who stuck his head out of a small pile of boxes, grinning with delight. “I think you’re one of a very small number of wizards I’ve met who could’ve identified a coatl and an Erumpent on sight.”

“Someone used coatl acid to melt through a safe once,” Graves muttered, startled to find that he was disconcerted by Newt’s pleasure. Newt was… pretty like this, disheveled, dressed only in Graves’ coat, knee-deep in boxes and… Graves looked away, swallowing a sigh. “Give me back the coat whenever you’re next in New York,” he said, heading for the exit.

“Wait,” Newt yelped, and caught up with Graves at the ladder, grabbing at Graves’ elbow, and as Graves instinctively jerked away, they overbalanced against the wall, crashing against a stack of books. Graves swore, pushing books off his shoulders, as Newt froze on his lap, squeaking horrified apologies.

Graves pressed a hand over his face. “Get off, please.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Newt scrambled off, bright red. “Sorry. I just. Wanted to say. It’s been a… pleasure?” He said, cautiously.

Despite himself, Graves chuckled as he got to his feet, reluctantly charmed. “Surprisingly, yes. See you in New York, Scamander.”

“I’ll look after your coat!” Newt called up after him, as Graves made his way up the ladder.

Once outside, Porpentina arched an eyebrow. “Your ah… you’re missing your—”

“Don’t ask.”

I didn't know it possible to laugh so much as I did when reading this story :D OP, that was brilliant. I love the way you wrote Graves and Newt, and how Graves couldn't help himself from checking out Newt ^^

This fic was an utter joy to read! I loved it! I'm really loving your characterization of Graves as very gruff and business-like, but easily thrown off by Newt's weirdness. The fact that he was just going "???" at Newt was hilarious and adorable, and Newt being so cavalier and matter of factly while his clothes are dissolving was amazing. Their chemistry in this was just perfect, you just know Graves was hot and bothered by Newt looking sexy while just wearing his coat (that image, wow) and the fact that he fell onto his lap is just icing on the cake.

This was the cutest thing I've ever read!

OP here!

That was ADORABLE. I am enamored with your characterization of Graves -- his baffled annoyance and disgruntled endearment towards Newt felt so true to character. It was natural and believable and I just want more of this. More of Newt being adorable and clever (and wanting people to like him!!) and Graves begrudgingly coming to tolerate him. And then like him. It was a nice touch that Graves knew about magical creatures -- that he could keep up with Newt. Just... this whole thing was fantastic. Thank you. <3

Glad you liked it, OP :) Here's a bit extra just for you.
--

“I have a permit,” Newt said quickly, holding the ragged piece of paper before him and his case like a shield.

Graves didn’t even slow down, grabbing Newt by the elbow and hustling him away from the too-curious reception desks and staff. MACUSA was winding down into the night shift, which meant more people than usual in the Woolworth Building, coming and going. Wizards and witches were worse than cats for curiosity and the worst for gossip. “I know you have a permit,” Graves told him briskly, as he pulled Newt down the wide stairs to the street. “Didn’t you see the signature at the end?”

“Oh.” Newt stopped abruptly in his attempt to check said signature and nearly pulled Graves off-balance. Thankfully, this time, they were close enough to a lamp post for Graves to steady them, glowering at Newt as he hauled them down an alley, then another, before disapparating out of sight of any too-curious magical spectators.

“You have a really curly ‘G’,” Newt said, squinting in the gloom of the new alley, as though they’d done nothing more than walk across a street. “It’s nice. Did you have to practice drawing it?”

Graves pinched at the bridge of his nose and silently petitioned a greater power for patience as he let go of Newt’s elbow. “All right, Scamander. What do you want?”

“That’s a… very broad question?” Newt looked surprised. “You mean, right now, or, you mean in terms of acquisitions? I guess I wouldn’t mind finding a dragon, I mean, a Chinese dragon. That’s to say, ah, did you know, the Chinese believe in ‘celestial dragons’, but I think, if they do exist, they’re probably a subspecies of horned—”

“You wanted to talk to me about Chinese dragons?” Graves interrupted, caught between exasperation and bewilderment.

“Well, uhm, no, I didn’t want to talk to you about that, actually, I wasn’t looking to talk to you at all, not that I don’t like talking to you,” Newt said hastily, when Graves took in a deep breath, “but I was actually at Woolworth to give Tina, err, Miss Goldstein, err, Agent Goldstein, a signed copy of my new book, you see.”

Ah.

Gods-damn Porpentina Goldstein and her Best Intentions. Graves made a mental note to assign her the most hellish cases for the near future in revenge. About to offer Newt a stiff apology and return them to MACUSA, Grave paused when Newt plucked tentatively at his sleeve. “Oh. You have a third coat. That’s good.”

“Why? Do I want to know what happened to my second coat?” Graves asked dryly.

Newt actually blushed, a most becoming colour on the skinny wizard, even in the bleak evening light in the alley. “I’m really rather sorry! I was going to pay to get it replaced, that is, Tina said she was going to give me your sizing and maybe the name of your tailor.”

“Another accident with the coatl?”

“Oh no, that whole thing in the silo was really the result of him suffering a terrible fright. Grundy’s actually very friendly. I’m working to get him returned to the Amazon, once he gets used to eating his usual diet again.” Newt looked rather sheepish. “It was Streeler venom, I’m afraid.”

“What? Those giant snails? How… No. No, I don’t want to know.”

“I gave the rest of it to the Occamies, they really like it. But I was going to get you a replacement,” Newt said hastily, then something seemed to bring him up short. “Or, Tina said, I could instead… take you out for… dinner?”

Graves raised his eyebrows, amusement threatening to unseat his residual annoyance. “You don’t sound very certain.”

“Well,” Newt said nervously, “it was a very fine coat, and I’m not familiar with New York, or with nice restaurants in general, let alone what you would prefer to have, so it looked like a further opportunity for me to put my foot in it, shall we say.”

“You mean,” Graves said dryly, “there’s something worse than having a coatl melt your clothes off in front of me?”

“I’ve told you, Grundy wasn’t feeling well,” Newt said, genuinely puzzled for a moment before whatever tiny portion of his brain wasn’t obsessed with magical beasts took over. “Oh. You mean the melting clothes and the, uhm, state of undress. That’s always been a bit of an occupational hazard. But I’m generally awfully good at annoying people in a normal setting. I mean. A social setting.”

“We’ll see,” Graves said, more kindly than he’d intended. “There isn’t a bad place around the block, if you don’t mind Italian food.”

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.” Newt was tucking his permit carefully into an inner pocket, staying put.

“Meaning—” Graves exhaled, “—do. You. Want. To have. Dinner. Now. With me.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Lord give me strength,” Graves muttered. “Forget it.”

“No, no, no,” Newt caught his wrist quickly. “Dinner would be great. Italian food is great. I was in Italy once.”

“After the Longana or the Lariosauro?” Graves relented, faced with Newt’s joyous excitement.

“The squasc, actually. I was helping a tribe of them move away from a development.” Graves let Newt chatter on about Italy and the unlikely misadventures of a squasc tribe through a decent dinner of lamb. It was soothing, in a way, a reminder that there were people out there like Newt, to whom MACUSA and all its politics, all its power, mattered little.

“It’s funny,” Newt said afterwards, when they were walking comfortably out from the restaurant, “having an Italian dinner without wine.”

“Alcohol’s prohibited.” Not that the federal government really had any means of enforcing it. “For No-Majs,” Graves amended. MACUSA hadn’t really seen the harm of stuff like giggle juice and butter beer, compared to all the other kinds of grotesque and often ultimately fatal mischief that practitioners could get up to.

“That’s a pity.”

“We could go to a place like Gnarlack’s,” Graves said absently. “But the moment I show my face at a blind pig like that, half the punters would be fleeing out the back.”

“What’s wrong with your face?” Newt peered at him earnestly. “I really like it.” Graves stared at him, and Newt stiffened, his ears reddening. “Oh dear. I said that out loud, didn’t I. On the other hand,” he said wanly, nervous again, “this truly is a record.”

“For what?”

“Triggering social mishaps, as my brother puts it.” Newt said, looking resigned. The decision came easily to Graves, at the end, with this pretty young man beside him, so eager for his attention.

“What are your plans for the rest of tonight?”

“Ah, I suppose I’ll find a hotel of some sort,” Newt looked around.

“You can come home with me,” Graves said quietly. “If you like.”

Disbelief tumbled quickly into that joyous, gorgeous excitement, and Newt took Graves’ offered hand without hesitation. They apparated behind Graves’ apartment building, beside the fire escape, and climbed up to his floor. It was a bachelor’s flat, small and halfheartedly furnished, but Newt looked around with intense curiosity, as though studying some strange new creature’s habitat.

“Nothing in here explodes,” Graves told him dryly, as he closed the door behind them.

Newt laughed, setting his precious case aside on an armchair, and let Graves pull him over for a tentative kiss, fumbled between them, made clumsy by nerves. It got better when Graves got them both on the couch, Newt’s hands clenched in the lapels of his coat, his skinny knees pressed against Graves’ hips. Newt calmed down as Graves tugged off his blue coat, and shuddered as his vest was undone. The bow tie was next, then the buttons of his shirt, after which Newt seemed to unfreeze his hands from Graves’ coat and plucked at his tie.

“Is this all right?” Graves asked softly, as Newt buried his face against Graves’ collar, his breaths hitched in soft gasps.

“I actually had a very thorough education in Hogwarts,” Newt mumbled, laughter in his voice as he got Graves’ tie loose. “Despite the odds, I might add.”

“Count me unsurprised,” Graves told him, and Newt reared back and grinned at him, using the tie to tug Graves up for another kiss. He could get used to this, Graves thought, drunk from the moment, as he closed his fingers over Newt’s hips and pulled him flush.

#

“None of this is remotely acceptable,” Graves snapped in the morning, as they chased that gods-damned menace of a Niffler down a street.

“Sorry!”

Okay, so. Graves didn't even register in my mind after watching the movie, much less Newt/Graves, but wow oh wow fics like these have me shipping them so hard and it's all thanks to the stellar writing and great characterizations. I laughed out loud several times while reading this. You can feel Graves' frustration bleeding off the screen, practically, and that takes immense talent. I just love how opposite they are to each other, their conversations are brilliant and you have left me again wanting more.

OP again!

I demand an explanation because who gave you the right to be so freaking cute?? This is a perfect follow up -- I'm really into this little universe you've made. Newt's enduring awkwardness is so adorable, as is Graves's enduring attraction. He can't help but be charmed by Newt.

There were so many great details in this (as there were in the first installment) -- Graves being the one to sign Newt's permit (with a really curly G); Newt giving the remains of the coat to the occamies (and they really like it!!); WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOUR FACE and I REALLY LIKE IT (oh Newt you sweet talker); NOTHING IN HERE EXPLODES asdfl;kjaglkj

You're really nice, Anon. Thanks for giving me these amazing stories. <3

This was so funny and sweet!

I totally loved this! Thank you author (and I'm fairly surprised there's so few comments -- I'm here from the link to Russian fandom location and lot of users there liked it)!!!!

Oh, this is my favorite!

Haha, lovely!

Please write more, this is amazing

This is so adorable. I love it so much. :')

I adore this series.
Your Newt and Graves are perfect.
The frustration. The curly G. The face.
All of it.
This was so great. <333

This was super lovely :)

Prompt Post #1

A Bit of a Bother And All That [1/1]

Re: A Bit of a Bother And All That [1/1]

Re: A Bit of a Bother And All That [1/1]

Re: A Bit of a Bother And All That [1/1]

Re: A Bit of a Bother And All That [1/1]

The Third Coat And What Came After [1/1]

Re: The Third Coat And What Came After [1/1]

Re: The Third Coat And What Came After [1/1]

Re: The Third Coat And What Came After [1/1]

Re: The Third Coat And What Came After [1/1]

Re: The Third Coat And What Came After [1/1]

Re: The Third Coat And What Came After [1/1]

Re: The Third Coat And What Came After [1/1]

Re: The Third Coat And What Came After [1/1]

Re: The Third Coat And What Came After [1/1]

Re: A Bit of a Bother And All That [1/1]