This story was originally published on Ao3 on August 8th, 2017 and is being included here for the sake of thoroughness.
Warnings: smut, dubious consent, under-negotiated kink and a threesome (Newt/Tina/Graves.) Back out now if OT3's aren't your thing!
It is Auror Goldstein who finds him, partnered with a wizard wearing a poisonous blue greatcoat, its collar flipped carelessly against the persistent February cold.
Percival Graves is closer to madness than he cares to admit when his prison is discovered, and he clings to them both (the man has a face he knows, and it puts him instantly at ease) with a survivors' panicky clutch all the way to St. Toothaker's. There, the two stand beside his bed in silent solidarity as potions are tipped down his throat, wounds are healed, and initial inquiries are made.
He sleeps with the help of a potion, and when he awakes he feels much better—at least until President Picquery arrives. There is sympathy wrapped in condemnation within her eyes, and he realizes that his time with MACUSA is forever marked. She makes polite inquiry after his health, and he answers in monosyllables and grunts, constantly aware of the mild gaze of the freckled wizard across the room, standing as his sentinel and shield.
Goldstein eventually comes to relieve Scamander, and the subconscious way they carry themselves around each other makes something within Graves relax. Their bodies sway toward each other, hips angled outward, and their hands are always reaching out to touch. The British wizard makes easy eye contact with the American witch, something he actively avoided around Graves, and Percival watches with interest as their fingers make light, fleeting contact, neither of them seeming to be consciously aware of the touch.
Well, that's good, then, he thinks, fondly recalling Goldstein's awkwardly obvious crush on him, and closes his eyes.
Graves anticipated apathy and judgment when returning to MACUSA, but the breadth and depth of scorn sent his way by people he is nominally in charge of still manages to astound him. He spends as much time issuing reprimands and quelling rumors in his first week as he does actually working, and the way his employees flinch away from him when he's near, as if he himself were Grindelwald and Graves the disguise, haunts him well after he's gone home to kick off his boots and nurse a glass of whiskey.
Goldstein is one of the few who treats him no differently. If anything, she's much calmer around Graves now that she's earned herself a mate, a steady presence at his back that does not condone or condemn her co-workers. She is stalwart and capable, and he finds himself leaning on her more and more as days turn to weeks, then to months, and still, the tension persists.
She and her sister invite him around to dinner after a time, sensing a need for him to get away. He resists at first, but he is still a man, and he is realizing (he can admit it in private, if to no one else) that he is lonely: Picquery treats him like a novelty; his Aurors treat him with grudging respect; there hasn't been a woman in years. Even Theseus Scamander no longer writes though he must be aware of his brother working directly with Graves while in the States, and that rejection stings worse than all the others.
They make a roast the first time he comes to dinner, and he swears it's the best thing he's ever put in his mouth. Tina (for she is simply Tina now; they evolved past 'Graves' and 'Goldstein' months ago) and her Mr. Scamander—"Oh, please - call me Newt!"—are openly and easily affectionate with each other, and they each shake his hand when they part ways that evening.
He lingers over the contact, and they both kindly pretend not to notice.
His second visitation heralds a roast chicken and a bottle of good white wine; the third features pasta and salad and the best damn bread in the city, compliments of a No-Maj bakery.
He soaks in the company as much as the food, surviving as he is off his bachelor cooking. He lingers to admire the easy way Newt and Tina touch each other—sometimes a quick hug or a kiss. Most of all, he cherishes the way they touch him: fleeting contact made when passing the potatoes, a brushed or squeezed arm over some bit of exciting news, and always with the handshakes at the end of the evening, now accompanied by a tenderpat.
There comes the inevitable day when he and MACUSA part ways, quietly and without fanfare. Picquery accepts his resignation with a regally inclined head, and the fact that she makes no effort to plead with him to stay, more than anything else in the almost-year since he's returned, convinces him that this is the right choice.
He goes home to drown his relief in a bottle and doesn't leave until weeks later, when Tina and Newt come by to invite him to their New Year's Eve party. He accepts without condition or hesitation, and when Tina hugs him before leaving, he clings to her with a desperation he hates.
Newt calmly watches them embrace before stepping into their space, laying a work-hardened hand between Percival's shoulder blades as an offer of steady comfort.
They are both kind enough to pretend he isn't crying, and there's a new softness in their gazes when they finally bid farewell.
The open affection is still there when he shows up on New Year's Eve, wearing his best suit and with his hair carefully combed back. Newt and Tina are similarly dressed—she in a slinky dress that should be illegal, he in a brown suit with an updated cut—and they take turns dancing as they nibble finger food and knock back fancy cocktails.
Tina's sister is missing, and she waves this away when Percival asks her about it before thrusting a drink into his hand.
Newt and Tina kiss at midnight, wrapped around each other as they sway together gently in the center of the living room. Percival tries his hardest not to stare, but they are truly beautiful in the low candlelight, and there's no mistaking the love and affection as their fingers press and dance, sealed at the lips and ignorant to the wider world.
They part after a time and turn as one to eye him. He's sprawled on their couch, pleasantly sober despite the amount of alcohol they've all consumed. Tina looks at Newt before tilting her head with a curiously raised eyebrow. He nods without hesitation and watches after her when she crosses the room to the couch. She reaches down to touch Percival's lip before depositing herself in his lap, and he's too stunned to resist when she kisses him—her lips tasting of wine and lipstick, with an earthier undertone he suspects may be Newt.
Shocked, his eyes fly to Newt, who has moved closer to them. He's standing easily, arms held loosely at his side as he watches their interactions with vested academic interest. Tina deepens the kiss, and Percival shrugs internally before closing his eyes in surrender. She squeezes his wrist and he tentatively loops his arms around her, delighting inwardly when she hums before sucking the taste of whiskey directly off his tongue. The wet-velvet feel of her mouth wrenches a groan from his throat, and she makes a low, hungry sound before sliding her fingers beneath his collar.
He stiffens at that, and she breaks the kiss to meet his eyes. "It's okay," Tina soothes, and the low, smoky timbre of her voice curls around him, setting his nerve-endings alight. "I won't touch you if you don't want me to, Percy. It's fine." The endearment makes him blink as stupid, tender affection swells within him, until he reaches up to take her wrists, urging her hands to his collar and lower.
"I don't mind," he rumbles and looks past her to Newt, who has shrugged out of his suit jacket and waistcoat. He hangs them over the back of a chair and tosses aside his bow tie before standing behind Tina, his hands falling to her shoulders.
"Are you alright with this?" He asks plainly. Graves thinks about it for a moment, distracted by the press and pull of Tina opening his shirt buttons.
"As long as you are," he answers and is rewarded with a small smile.
Tina kisses him deeply before contributing to the discussion. "We'd like to take you to bed," she murmurs as she presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of his throat. "You don't have to touch Newt if you don't want to, that's fine. But we'd like to do this with you if you're okay with it." She stops kissing him, withdrawing her hands from his skin to allow him to think with a clear head.
Newt reaches down to take her hand, and they share a smile before turning to him. Graves looks from one to the other, admiring the contrast of Tina's pale, slender fingers against Newt's scarred, work-calloused ones, and wonders how they'd both feel against his skin. Pleasant goosebumps ripple over his body, and he shivers in anticipation before reaching to cover their hands with his own, a curl of tentative heat starting low in his belly.
"I think I'd like to try," he decides, and their matching smiles are all for him.
They move as a unit to the bedroom, where Graves and Newt strip themselves by tacit, unspoken agreement before turning their combined attention to Tina. Percival is wholly unsurprised to find that Newt's body is just as scarred as his hands and that his freckles really are everywhere; then Tina's mouth is on his, her hands dusting over his chest and back and sides as she kisses him, and he forgets all about Newt in the wonder that is her lips and tongue and touch.
The men work together to get her dress off of her, laying it aside reverently before focusing on her skin. Graves uses his lips to push her slip over her shoulders before claiming her in a deep kiss, while Newt pools himself at her feet to detach the satin ribbon of her garters. He peels off her stockings while kissing the stem of her legs, and Percival swallows her moan when he moves behind her, allowing her to rock her tight bottom against the juncture of his legs.
He seeks and receives permission to touch her before palming and cupping her breasts as Newt kisses a slow path up her inner thigh. Percival knows when Newt has reached his destination when Tina produces another delicious sound, her body swaying into his as Newt guides one of her legs over his shoulder. Percival takes her weight happily, sliding an arm around her waist as he slits open his eyes to watch Newt's shaggy head pressed between her thighs. He looks up past her stomach and breasts to watch her face, his blue gaze open and worshipful in a way that should be uncomfortable to witness but isn't, and she buries her fingers in his hair with a murmured iteration of his name before moaning loudly.
Newt tongues her sex with practiced confidence, inspiring moans and sighs as he tastes her. Not wishing to be outdone, Percival squeezes her small breasts before pinching her nipples, rolling them between his fingers. She gasps in delight when he flows around her to suck her nipple between his lips, making a game of seeing just how much of her breast he can fit in his mouth (quite a bit of it, as it turns out; they really are quite small, though perfectly shaped) before releasing her skin with a wet pop.
He smirks at her until she hauls him in for a truly indecent kiss, and he recognizes the tremors that take her frame only moments before she gasps and pants into his mouth, her body rocked with orgasm. Tina sighs and clutches him as she comes down, her arm sliding around Newt's shoulders when he stands to join them, casually wiping his mouth. "Thank you," she tells him and kisses her flavor from his soulful lips before turning to Percival. She kisses him, and he laps unashamedly at the sweet and visceral tang of her release before turning to Newt.
"Lucky fellow," he murmurs, and the other man flushes, the freckles on his cheeks suddenly backlit in red. Tutting, Tina reaches down to circle him, and Graves leans his forehead against her shoulder to swallow a moan when she strokes him curiously.
"Gentlemen, there's to be none of that," she admonishes them gently and reaches down to take Newt in her other hand. He moans at the brush of her fingers, and Tina kisses him deeply while stroking them both, falling into a matching rhythm as Newt cradles her face and jaw and Graves runs his teeth along her neck and shoulder.
She uses her hold on their cocks to lead them to the bed, smirking coyly when she pushes Newt onto the mattress before following him. He goes willingly when she directs him to fold his freckled body by her head as she lays on her back, using her lust-heavy eyes and fingers to urge Percival over her. "It's okay," she murmurs as she parts her thighs, allowing him to move between them. "I want to feel you inside me."
He exhales shakily, taking a moment to savor and process her words before pulling her close by her pale thighs. Percival delights in her happy moan when she turns her head to wrap her lips around Newt's length, humming as he rubs the tip of his cock over her seam teasingly before nudging her clit. She moans around Newt until he reaches trembling hands to sweep her hair out of her face, murmuring adorations as she collapses her cheeks. He groans, and Percival shakes himself out of his momentary trance before centering his thumb over her, brushing her clit while sliding into her jungle heat.
Percival takes a long moment to calm himself once she's wrapped around him, thinking past tight wet hot I am going to die from this to press her clit harder, hissing through his teeth when she quivers around him. Tina makes a questioning sound after a few moments, rocking her hips in invitation, until he slides both hands to her lethal curves to hang on as he starts to move against her, building a rhythm.
She moans beautifully when he finds his groove, transferring a hand to fist the sheets as he fucks her into the mattress.
Newt cradles her skull with one hand as he thrusts shallowly into her mouth, the other sliding over her chest and stomach to toy with her clit. Percival rolls his head forward, mouth falling open as he watches his cock disappear in her, the way her cunt swells and reddens as he urges her closer to the brink, and the contrast of Newt's clever fingers. He groans long and low when she frees Newt's cock with a wet sound to moan freely, her head digging into the mattress as she coils, arching beneath him. Newt unfolds his wiry frame to cradle her breast with one hand while nuzzling her, murmuring adorations into her mouth between deep kisses. Percival squeezes his eyes shut as he hurtles toward the edge.
Tina's fingernails suddenly sink into his thighs, and he opens his eyes to find her gaze heavy and dark upon him, her kiss-swollen lips parted on heady words. "I'm gonna come," she breathes, and her fingers dig in as she holds his gaze over the expanse of Newt's back, who's dipped his head to lather her breast and stomach with kisses as his fingers press faster. Percival reaches for her hand, and she threads their fingers together tightly before gasping, her stomach quivering. "Percy, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna—!"
Her back snaps as she clenches, sustained, taut pressure giving way to rhythmic spasming as she dissolves around him. He presses deeply into her, rutting as his own release snarls out of him, realizing a split-second too late that he hasn't been granted permission for this part of it. His joints and muscles unhinge at the height of it, and he sags against Newt's battered back as he makes shocked blowing sounds, rendered temporarily incoherent by the sheer ferocity of his orgasm.
Newt reaches out to steady him as Tina rolls her shoulders and smiles widely. "That was wonderful," she promises while reaching up to stroke his damp cheek, and Percival drops his head in thanks before slowly climbing off of her. He withdraws with a wince, only to watch in horror as a thick trail of come spurts behind him, clinging to her folds and spreading in a pearly puddle beneath her.
His expression must give him away because Newt clasps his shoulder lightly as Tina giggles. "Give me a word of warning next time," she says dryly, "and I'll make sure to use a spell to clean up first."
The other man huffs a breath of laughter before bending to kiss her, and Percival carefully doesn't consider the ramifications of next time when Tina rolls onto her stomach before climbing to her knees, and he and Newt switch places. She encourages him to fold his legs beneath him, inserting her face in his lap with a smile to nuzzle his spent cock when Newt moves behind her, deftly angling her hips.
Percival watches through heavy eyes as Newt touches her in reverent brushes, murmuring sweet nothing's while positioning himself. She smirks up at him before pressing her hips back, and Percival knows contact has been made when Newt gasps and she sighs in apparent relief.
Tina lightly drags her mouth over his length as she rotates her hips, sighing to encourage him before Newt calmly lays a hand across the small of her back and takes over, pistoning into her smoothly. Percival experiences a renewed stirring of lust as she muffles her sighs and moans in his skin, and she makes a delighted sound before taking him between her lips, chuckling as he snaps to full hardness in an instant before groaning when she swallows him.
Newt drapes himself over her as he dusts her back and shoulders with kisses, one hand clamped to the flare of her hip, the other slipping beneath them to brush between her legs. She takes Percival deep enough to wrench a groan out of him, causing the other man's easy rhythm to temporarily stutter, and the three share a breathless laugh before Tina pushes herself onto her arms, reaching for him with a mischievous twinkle.
Percival is hot and throbbing again, anxious for attention but more interested in seeing her satisfied, so he moves with the speed that had once rocketed him through the ranks of MACUSA to evade her grasp and slide beneath her, delighting in her excited moan as Newt slows to allow them all a chance to maneuver.
A bit of careful adjustment sees Percival flat on his back, Tina's cunt alighting his lips, her mouth wrapped around his cock as Newt sinks into her from above. Newt confirms they're all comfortable before moving again—slowly at first, murmuring Merlin and Gods, yes Tina and You are magnificent, darling as Percival happily laps at her, focusing on her clit to taste, feel and hear her approving sighs as they establish a pleasurable feedback loop. He keeps his eyes open to watch Newt's freckled length fill her, marveling at the building tension that transmits through his tongue as he hurtles toward his second release.
Tina's mewls vibrate through Percival when she begins to thrum against his lips, hot and vital as a series of growls spill from Newt's throat. He concentrates on flicking his tongue faster until his own orgasm blindsides him, groaning as his hips snap into her mouth. Her throat works as she swallows the evidence of his release, until she gasps Newt's name, her fingernails digging into Percival's thighs as she trembles above him. He can see the regular contractions pulsing through her as she comes, moaning musically when Newt thrusts a few more times before shuddering and going still, twitching as they ride the peak and slowly descend.
Percival feels her thighs tense around him when she takes Newt's slumped weight, grumbling good-naturedly before pinching his knee. The couple above him remain locked together as Percival very carefully extracts himself, anxious not to upset their balance as they hold their tenuous position. They wait until he sits up on the other side of the mattress, running a hand through his mussed hair before Newt straightens and withdraws from her, wincing at the inevitable mess that follows behind him.
A flick of scarred fingers sees all three of them cleaned up, sweat drying instantly as bodily fluids disappear. Percival grunts his thanks as Newt sags into the mattress and gathers Tina in his arms, nuzzling the back of her neck. She reaches for him and Percival goes to her willingly, slotting into her other side and completing the triptych. Newt shares a smile with Percival, who is helpless but to smirk back, and Tina kisses them in turn before ruffling their hair as they meld into each other.
"We should do that again," she eventually murmurs, her body sleep-warm and pleasantly heavy against his. Newt agrees with an inarticulate, pleased-sounding murmur before half-heartedly tugging the blankets over the three of them, careful to reach and tuck the trailing edge around Percival's shoulder. He tucks his messy head into the notch between Tina's neck and shoulder before closing his eyes, looking for all the world like a gangling, ginger cat as he drowses, one hand loosely cupping her breast.
Tina turns her bright gaze on Percival, who resists the sudden and inexplicable urge to hide when she smiles softly just for him. "We really should do that again," she whispers. "You're welcome to join us, any time you need it. We're only too happy to have you." She squeezes Newt, who mumbles agreement, before smirking deviously. "I'll even call you 'Mr. Graves' in bed, if you'd like."
Gravelly laughter bubbles up and out of his throat, catching him by surprise as he draws senseless shapes over the taut plane of her stomach, nuzzling her hair while closing his eyes. "I think I'd like that a bit too much," he admits, purposefully not acknowledging her invitation. A thoughtful hum tells him she hasn't missed the evasion—no surprise there; she always was too keen by half—but she lets it go, for now, falling silent to allow the three of them to rest.
Eventually, they sleep, twisted against each other.
The morning sees a surprising level of ease and companionship between them. The men revolve around Tina, who is their center and lynchpin as they prepare coffee, eggs, and toast. Percival dresses with typical fussiness, Tina kisses the corner of his mouth when Newt shakes his hand, and he leaves to retreat to his brownstone—his shoulders unbowed by the burden of her words as he curiously weighs the implication of their invitation, and using his solitude to wonder how it all changed on him so quickly.
He illuminates the bathroom with his strongest spells, staring at his face in the mirror for longer than is strictly necessary. He looks unmistakably tired and scruffy, and yet...his visage radiates a profound contentment, a deep satisfaction that goes beyond a good fuck and verges suspiciously close to happiness.
Percival stares for a long, long time until he no longer recognizing himself. He climbs into bed in the dark, and it isn't until he's on the verge of sleep that he realizes he knows the answer: there's a new and weighty emptiness beside him, and he gives himself an hour, then two to slip into sleep before declaring defeat and climbing out of bed.
Newt answers the door when he knocks, dressed in low-slung pajama bottoms and nothing else. Percival tries hard not to stare at an enticing patch of freckles on the other man's collarbone, or at the scar hooked across his chest, just over his heart. He finds he's curious about these things in ways that are new and terrifying, and Newt looks at him with calm, steady eyes before canting his head to the left.
He reaches a calloused hand out to him, and Percival allows it to pull him into the apartment before closing the door gently behind them.