"I am your neighbour, I can see you, I got these blinds that I peek through and when you're crying, I see your tears fall down, they're making oceans that in I, sink and drown.
I feel I know you, I feel I know you well, I've seen you go through, I've seen you go through hell, I was there when you first let euphoria spill on your bed sheets, I could feel what you felt.
Do you feel used? Well I would too, I would too, and would you use me, like I did you?
I am your neighbour, I can hear you, I got this tin can with a string through and when you're crying, I hear your shaky breath and when you're lying, I hear your heart confess." – 'Neighbour' – Mother Mother (yes, I know there's been a lot of em but when you're trying to continue a narrative theme with relevant song lyrics similar artists tend to crop up more than others)
"You are right, I'll move on, but my lungs feel so small, I couldn't breathe if I tried, I lay my head on the floor, my beating heart wanted more but I'll keep it in and keep you out.
I'm drowning, I'm drowning, I'm drowning, I'm drowning.
But for the longest time I knew there was nothing left for us to do but I tried, oh, I try and in this quiet company there is nothing staring back at me I'm in need of the sound.
Hungry for the kill, but this hunger, it isn't you, voices disappear when you are speaking, in sombre tunes, I will be the wolf and when you're starving, you'll need it too, hungry for the kill, but this hunger, it isn't you, it isn't you, it isn't.
I grew tall to fill the void, let me go cause you are just a shade of what I am, not what I'll be but in this quiet company I forget sometimes just how to breathe fill my lungs with the sound." – 'Hunger' – Of Monsters and Men
The last few sweet moments of hazy awareness before sleep claimed him were some of the best that Newt could remember but almost as soon as he slipped through the familiar barrier between one place and the next, that sweet haze was quickly tainted with fear. The night before had indeed been dreamless – he hadn't been lying to Percival about that, but he had felt that familiar hum right at the very edge of his consciousness that told him that something was happening. Newt had assumed it had been the interaction between Gellert and Albus that caused the uneasy feeling of impending doom though it may well just be common sense telling you the same thing and had tried to ignore it, nonetheless. Percival returning so soon and so unexpectedly had been a welcome distraction and comfort to divert the young magizoologist from the lingering tensions that lay within his mind. Tending to his creatures and creating a new enclosure for Henry had been a useful diversion and it had only been the familiar and distinctive scent of Percival permeating through the usual creature smells that had alerted him to the Auror's presence. For the first few moments, Newt had thought that he was imagining it and his tired mind had conjured the smell in some odd form of comfort, but he had then seen Henry's posture tense, his large eyes shifting over behind Newt for a fraction of a second and he had smiled to himself.
The subsequent events had been a veritable tidal wave of different sensations – desire being the predominant one – but there were others mixed in like ocean detritus that tainted the pleasure in little affecting ways. Awkwardness and unsurety of what he should do were certainly a major one, he had been terrified that he would do something wrong that would ruin it for both of them with his inexperience or through just the wrong memories being triggered inadvertently. There had been the constant underlying fear of the contact, of what it made him feel and remember but Newt had been relieved to discover that both with Percival's care and with his own precautions he could focus drop away from his more cognizant thoughts and rely upon instinct alone. He had gone with the motions and words that he wanted in the moment - anything he had imagined in the past to happen between them, things he knew from personal experience felt good to do to himself.
It had been a bit awkward, and fumbling, but it had seemed to do the trick as Percival had seemed near frantic and animalistic at times; it had been exhilarating to see his partner lose control like that – because of something that Newt had done. He had appreciated greatly the amount of restraint Percy was clearly putting into his actions to avoid reminding Newt of much less pleasant touches and the confusing, conflicting feelings that came with them. But he had also appreciated it a lot more when he had let go. Seeing and feeling Percival being able to let down his usually concrete guards further had been something Newt had wanted for a long time, he found an indescribable pleasure in seeing Percival as he truly was. There was something much more genuine and revealing about seeing the baser instincts of someone – seeing them in a way that they usually kept hidden.
It had hurt. There was no denying that at first, despite all of Percival's careful distractions, sweet words and experience it had still resulted in a burning, stretching sensation that had even someone as pain accustomed as Newt gasping and fighting hard not to tear up. There had been pleasure too and not only the kind that came when Percival eventually hit the sweet spot within him that had Newt seeing white and hazing out in pleasure. No, as bizarre and secretly shameful as it was to him, there had been some satisfaction in the fact that the pain was sharpening the experience for him. He wasn't sure if it was due to some deeper guilt from all the mess that he had put Percival through and that he thought he somehow deserved it or if it was something else entirely something that Gellert tried to tell you long ago. It had thrown Newt into a further haze of confusion alongside the discomfort and pleasure, but he had found that in the time he was with Percival he didn't care as much as he perhaps would've otherwise. Whenever he was Percival, despite how awkward or confusing it could sometimes be for the young magizoologist, he always felt a sense of rightness. The blunt honesty of Percival's carnality had hammered it through that he honestly did find Newt attractive and that he seemed to want him just as much as Newt did him.
The soft, panted flattering words that had liquefied his insides in that unique melted-honey way and had danced along his skin with every touch – harsher or caressing – had been enough to convince Newt of the genuineness of Percival's affections for him. There had been a little part of him that feared Percival would no longer want to be with him when he discovered how inexperienced and broken Newt was, but something about the whispered words and genuineness of his actions made Newt believe him.
Try as he might to stay aware and tell Percival just how much the experience and Percival's tender brutality had meant to him, the lack of sleep and the overwhelming exhaustion of their …activities had consumed him. Falling asleep in Percival's warm, bare-skinned embrace had been an immeasurable comfort, feeling the older man's breath caressing the back of his neck and the strength that resided in the ropes of muscle that encircled his arms had lulled him further. The intimacy had helped to finally banish the last cognisant traces of Grindelwald's impersonation; being able to know Percival's behaviours and touch well enough to successfully differentiate between the two. That issue had been dissipating over a longer period of time of course, the more time he spent around both men gave him better judges of both so as to properly gauge the subtle differences even when showing similar emotions or behaviours. But experiencing sex like this… well it gave Newt the clarity to appreciate just how different they really were. Newt knew that Gellert often emulated a tone, smirk or posture similar to Percival and for a long while, there was a part of him that had been concerned that the similarities stemmed from an idea that they were more similar in some ways than he wanted to admit.
But now, even as his clarity lightened the load that had been weighing upon him just that little bit, Newt knew that he had just entered a whole new level of peril and complications. He slipped through the ceiling of the cell as he usually might, if at an oddly sluggish seeming pace and was quick to retreat to his corner of the cell, hunching down and hiding as much of himself as he possibly could as he realised with suffocating horror that he was as naked here as he had been mere seconds before in his own bed. Ignoring the interior ache that flared up through his insides, spine and lower regions at the movements, he brought his knees up close to his chest, pressing them together tightly and wrapping his arms around them to hold them in place. As if it could protect him from the biting chill of the cell that seeped through the stone below him. Or the predatory gaze of the cell's other occupant.
Gellert's eyes were fixed close upon him, skating with expected interest but also with a surprising level of confliction tracing the mismatched pupils. He was stood as if caught in the midst of pacing and as Newt dared to return his probing gaze, though not meeting those traitorous eyes he noticed a smear of blood across one of Gellert's hands. His attention only caught it for a second or so before Gellert clasped his hands behind his back, shaking his elaborate coat sleeve down over it. Newt couldn't find it in himself to be too curious of it however as he realised just what sort of situation that he had carelessly put himself into. He should have had the forethought to try something, anything to avoid this sort of situation – at the very least staying awake long enough to put on some bloody clothes. Something so simple but that exhaustion had made slip his mind. Why couldn't he live a life where he shouldn't have to prepare for sleep as if preparing for a battle? Having to prepare himself for constant verbal sparring and even physical assault before he could even think about risking proper rest was not something that the human mind or body was suited for.
Neither, however was being unspeakably bared and vulnerable – magically imprisoned with his worst nightmare after what had been one of the best nights in memory he had experienced. The injustice of the situation was not lost upon him as he shivered, hunched and afraid in his corner but the rising surge of long-since quelled memories began to rise once more. He had gone so long without such an attack that it came as double the shock now; it was astounding to him what the lack of something so simple could bring upon him at just the wrong time, but it also felt to be a culmination of a long-withheld reaction. Finally leaking out through the cracks inside him. Gellert didn't even have to speak or touch him and yet he could feel the despair running and dripping through as if he were being physically torn apart. He could feel the usual begrudging apathy lingering just at the edges, requesting access to stem the tide but somehow Newt got the feeling that simply stoppering the flow as he had before would only lead to something much worse later. He could feel something else advising, guiding him gently to let the pressure leak out more slowly in a steady, continuous stream rather than penting it up until it blew him apart again as he had done before.
He focussed hard to control his breathing, willing his hammering heart to slow its pace and though the violent shivers did not cease, he found that he was able to wrest better control over his fear. Newt focussed as he often did upon peaceful memories, finding that it was a mixture of his time with Percival – holding one another or something as simple as the way he stroked his thumb along the side of Newt's hand to assure him – and thoughts of his creatures. Both focuses of interest helped to ground him and for once he could feel the hum of the whispering voice dying down when he requested it to. He was able to focus on righting himself and when he drew up enough resolve to open his smarting eyes again, he saw with some relief that Gellert was still stood at a distance from him, closer than before perhaps but not within arm's length. Gellert was regarding him with an inscrutable expression, brows furrowed, lips thin and eyes dark but with an odd softness to them.
Newt was somewhat shocked though certainly relieved that the elder wizard had not yet spoken or made a move to touch him but then he noticed what he had missed before in his panic. There was an almost imperceptible shimmer in the air between them that Newt recognised as being a barrier spell; something that would prevent him from touching Newt it seemed. He got a sense that the magic was placed as a shaped barrier around Gellert and that it would prevent him from touching anything else living. Newt himself had placed similar wardings on creatures before to prevent them from hurting themselves or others, but he only did so in the most extreme of circumstances as he knew that most did not thrive under the influence of a wizard's magic. He supposed that the specific limitations of the spell allowed Gellert to continue his movement around the cell and so that he could interact with the clothes, books and food (whenever or however that came) but he could not touch another living thing. Dumbledore had made good on his promise and though it seemed a simple solution, it was something that gave Newt a sense of relief, even if he was still being subjected to intense scrutiny from the dark wizard before him. He found himself releasing a very shaky, slightly hysterical huff of laughter under his breath and though he didn't uncurl himself even slightly, he dared to meet the other's eyes for the briefest of moments.
Gellert tilted his head to one side at the contact, gaze softening further into to something that looked sad, apologetic - pitying even, and that set a twinge of new fear lancing up his already aching spine. He didn't remember that look ever gracing Gellert's face and it scared him to see such a thing now, that Gellert thought that he deserved pity after all that he had inflicted upon him with no such qualms. As the dark wizard continued to stare at him, Newt lowered his eyes in deference, unsure of what to do, he still felt incredibly vulnerable; like a rack of meat laid out for inspection. Even if Gellert couldn't touch him and it seemed that the silencing spell had been replaced, he still felt as though the elder wizard was capable of violation beyond words or touch. He hoped that if he continued to ignore the other, if he didn't provoke him, that he would be able to slip into sleep without enduring Gellert's continued attentions. Grindelwald dashed those hopes by stepping forward further, a mere foot away now and sat, cross-legged as he had done many times before. His hands were clasped loosely in his lap instead of resting primly upon his knees as they usually would be. Now that he was closer, Newt could see that the blood and scrapes tracing his knuckles looked surprisingly familiar, a similar pattern to however Theseus' hand looked after venting his anger on undeserving walls or furniture. It was bewildering to see evidence of such poor constraint of fury on Grindelwald, as he usually withheld his frustrations to verbosity or expression only, when not able to do so with magic. Seeing the self-destructive tendency from Grindelwald didn't seem right at all.
Gellert noted his lingering, inquisitive stare on the mild wounds and flexed the hand almost experimentally, expression giving away no trace of discomfort but the movement causing the partially scabbed marks to crack open once again. Blood began to trace its way along his fingers and Gellert regarded it with idle fascination for a few moments before withdrawing a handkerchief from his coat pocket and dabbed the staining crimson from his flesh. At first the ministrations merely smeared the blood and he sighed quietly, bringing the cloth up to his mouth, surprisingly pink tongue darting out to wet it before returning to his motions, this time with more success as he dabbed. His eyes were fixed upon the task all the while and Newt found a hint of solace in the relief from his intense stare for just a little while, though Newt's own eyes remained fixed upon Gellert's as he moved. He was superfluously wary of the other even in this state and he found that he couldn't tear his gaze away from the shimmering play of light in Gellert's pale eyelashes, filled with awful anticipation for the dreaded moment when those eyes would return to him. In this state of familiar vulnerability, he felt the need to be on even higher guard than usual around him, lest the wardings somehow fail if he should take even a second to look elsewhere.
Eventually, Gellert's eyes did return to him and though Newt found himself flinching back slightly further into the wall at the odd coldness that had overtaken the pity, he still found the detached anger easier to deal with. The empty stare grew more and more uncomfortable and Newt got the feeling that Gellert wanted him to broach a conversation as he could no longer initiate one for himself. There was a part of Newt that still hoped rather futilely that Gellert would grow bored and go off and read or sleep or whatever else it was he did in here, but that part was small, and his better sense told him that it wasn't going to happen. Nevertheless, he found himself shaking his head slightly at Gellert and averting his gaze to his own arms where they wrapped his knees, pressing his head back against the stone and shivering before closing his eyes. Maybe he could ignore the other enough to find sleep on his own; he hadn't managed it before but maybe Gellert would eventually take pity.
"Am I no longer considered worthy of your attention, Newton?" Newt started violently, eyes flying back open as the voice sounded in his head, feeling Gellert's presence encroaching upon his own but in the more familiar form of Legilimency rather than through the bond. Gellert was regarding him with a mild expression though Newt was not fooled as he could sense the frustration rolling through the bond alongside an odd sort of pain drenching the mental connection. It wasn't physical pain though, it was emotional – Gellert was upset about something and that in itself was enough to provoke a startled response from him.
"Was rather hoping to have some peace and quiet actually."
Gellert laughed and the bitter humour rang along the bond with it in a disconcertingly contagious manner, but Newt fixed a neutral frown upon his face in its place. Gellert tilted his head again as though he were speaking the words that rang in Newt's head. "Yes, I would imagine after your little exploits you may be feeling a tad worn out."
Newt flushed dark in his cheeks and neck, narrowing his gaze to a glare at the confirmation of what he had already suspected Gellert knew. "I'm not really in the mood, Gellert." The words were muttered sullenly from between his slightly chapped lips.
A pale eyebrow was raised in that same bitter amusement "In my own experience I have usually found that fornication usually put those involved in a better mood when done properly. I can only assume that Percival was as disappointing in person as he was from my own experience of your evening."
Newt pressed his eyes tight closed in mortification – he really didn't want to be discussing this, but it seemed that with Gellert inside his head he had little choice in engaging the man. "Not that's its any of your business but I found it quite enjoyable indeed. Did you perhaps consider the reason I don't want to discuss it is because I don't want to talk to you at all?"
"But what's the purpose in being so cagey about such things when you know just how invested in yourself and your besotted Auror I am? I have ventured the offer before but now that things seemed to be progressing so… well between you too, would you consider taking my advice on the matter?"
Newt released a half-hysterical laugh at the suggestion and shook his head emphatically "Not a chance."
"Not even if I were to point out the rather apparent fact that you resent Percival for holding back on you? That you know he can't and won't treat you as a true equal because he believes you to be breakable, that even should you continue to stay together there will always be things that stand in the way? He is an Auror – the head of American security and has secrets enough under his belt that you will never understand what kind of a man he truly is? That he harbours tendencies closer to those I possess than you choose to admit to yourself? He kills, he maims, lies and manipulates for his own cause but has the audacity to pretend it isn't so. Do you really think that should it come to a decision between harming people or your beloved creatures and protecting MACUSA that he would make the right choice? He see's himself as a warrior of justice and men such as that are dangerous to be around; the ones who delude themselves and others into believing that they are heroes. Do you truly believe you are safe around such a man?"
"And do you truly believe that you are any better? The words you use can be just as easily applied to you, Gellert. Just because you are open about your cruelty doesn't make it any less abhorrent." Newt replied; venom more potent than any beast's lacing his tone at the blows to Percival's character he was making - ones that were striking a little too close to home in some places for your liking perhaps? Shut up.
Gellert's lips thinned and his brows furrowed further. "You would rather be with a liar who plays at sincerity and morality rather than someone who tells you all that they are? I think not, Liebling."
"You don't tell me everything either, Gellert, you tell enough of the truth so that it seems like honesty, but you keep plenty of secrets"
"And just what is it that you think I am keeping from you?" He could practically feel the twisted amusement dripping from his thoughts and his lips had curved into a mocking smirk.
"What you plan on doing to my friends, what you aim to achieve with this damned war, practically anything that isn't your unwelcome interest in me!" Newt glared, limbs shuddering going unnoticed in his frustration fuelled by vulnerability and exhaustion. The pain of what should be a pleasant time for him being ruined by Grindelwald yet again. "Not to mention how in Merlin's name you're getting out your orders and how you think you're going to escape from here."
Gellert's gaze was still amused but his smile was calculated, and his mind was cautious; limiting what Newt could access lest he push back with the connection. Knowing that both sensed the withdrawal, Newt gave him a sharp look; Gellert having just proved his point, the dark wizard's lip curled further, and he inclined his head as if admitting Newt's minor victory in that moment.
"Touché Newton, I will concede your point, but you are at least aware of the aims of my actions even if not the finer intricacies of the matters. Can you say the same of your dear Percy? Perhaps ask him what he has been doing when he returns to America or whatever happened to Scadrian and Liza after their imprisonment in Ministry custody?"
"What?" Newt asked, bewildered at the mention of the two fanatics who had attacked him so many months ago, he had been under the impression that they had been arrested and sent to MACUSA and Azkaban accordingly; Gellert however, seemed to know otherwise. As much as he hated to play into the other's games in this way, he couldn't help his curiosity being piqued by the remark.
Gellert's smile was thin but his eyes softened into indiscernible darkness once more "You would likely not trust the truth from my lips." He smirked and inclined his head silently "Or thoughts as it were." He met Newt's gaze full on with wide, deceptively open eyes. "Ask your dear Director and let me know if he gives you an open answer."
Newt glared through his still slightly damp fringe at the elder wizard "I would have expected less obvious manipulation from you, Gellert, this is rather clumsy of you."
Gellert's expression didn't falter for even a second "It is no manipulation Newton, I merely wish for you to be aware of all the aspects of your options before you make a decision."
"How kind of you." Newt bit sarcastically back and Gellert snorted slightly, looking genuinely amused, though his gaze swept over Newt's naked form in the same instant with a familiar scrutiny that made Newt's shuddering intensify. He rubbed his hands along his arms in a vain attempt to prevent the show of weakness, he missed the warmth and comfort of Percival's arms now more than ever – wished more than anything to just be able to curl up in his lover's embrace like a normal person might. It was a rare thing for Newt to wish that any aspect of his life was normal but right now it seemed so much simpler than what he was enduring.
"I apologise for the injury to your head, it was… unnecessary." Newt's head snapped back up and he fixed the other with a wary stare, subconsciously reaching one hand up to lightly brace against his forehead. He couldn't remember anything after Gellert delved into his mind with any clarity and what he could piece together seemed ridiculous – probably the result of a damaged, confused mind. Why on earth would Gellert sing to him? Even for a man seemingly intent upon uncomfortable amounts of intimacy it seemed odd – piecing together the images of Grindelwald the powerful, cold dark lord and Gellert the macabrely besotted prisoner who sang him to sleep… it just seemed wrong.
"I thought you believed that everything you did was necessary."
"Usually it is. You seem to have a tendency for provoking recklessness from me in a most irksome manner."
"Good to hear I can be of some service." Newt smirked very tiredly, lips barely moving but his sarcasm leaking through, nonetheless. He was disconcerted further when Gellert mirrored his expression with a cold, knowing element veining it strongly, eyes alighting over Newt again.
"Oh, you have already done more for me than you can comprehend, Newton."
The young magizoologist shuddering intensified at the multiple implications of the words; was almost tempted to ask exactly what he meant but found himself dreading the response or irked by the likelihood that he wouldn't receive a satisfying one. He averted his gaze back to his tightly wrapped arms, focussing on a line of swirling silver at random until it blurred out of his vision and everything began to haze. He could still see colours and vague outlines, but everything had a pleasantly unreal feel to it. It was easier to handle like this; he could almost pretend it was a dream, the kind that anyone else might have.
He heard a humming them, an ambling, rambling, familiar tune that caught his focus though he forced himself not to raise his gaze and realised that perhaps he hadn't been imagining quite as much as he thought. Not being able to produce any sound physically, the tune reverberated through his mind even as he tried to push it away irritably, it was no doubt an attempt to make him let his guard down and in his currently bare state that was the last thing he wanted to do. He could go one more night without sleep and find rest at another time when he was in a less vulnerable state – preferably wrapped in layer upon layer of the thickest clothing he owned. Right now, he resigned himself to having to put up with the company until such a time that Gellert allowed him to wake, which would hopefully be sooner rather than later.
"Are you really more comfortable resting in the arms of a liar and murderer who plays at decency than you are merely being in my presence?"
"Apparently so." Newt mumbled in response, not looking up and feeling Gellert sigh into the air between them.
"You didn't seem to mind all that much the last time." He murmured, a bitter, fond edge to his thoughts and Newt shot a brief glare.
"Concussions will do that."
Gellert sighed again and Newt felt him shift upon the stone floor in front of him, in the movement that one of his boots briefly brushed against Newt's toes there was a spark that resulted in a stunted cry from Gellert and a flurry of sparks that sent him sprawling back. Newt's half-closed eyes flew open to see him on his side a few feet away, looking mildly bemused and impressed in an odd way, he pushed himself back up to a sitting position with a huff of breath, meeting Newt's startled expression with a thin, mildly pained smile.
"Albus' measures are a little more stringent than I had anticipated it seems."
"Looks like it." Newt replied tonelessly, resisting the stupid urge he felt to ask whether the other was alright, he supposed it was just polite instinct and brushed it off without further thought.
"I would have thought that these were enough of a restriction." Gellert commented lightly, tugging back his sleeves a bit to reveal twin metal bands encircling his wrists, carved with symbols and glowing in a subtle, intricate shimmer of magic. Newt was no expert, but he imagined that they formed part of the wardings that prevented Gellert from using his magic and winced inwardly at the thought of being cut off from what formed such an integral part of a wizard. Not that he pitied Gellert's situation of course, but it still brought him no satisfaction to see another creature of magic bound in such a way. If Gellert was trying to provoke a conversation from him again or pity – he was going to be sorely disappointed, though it didn't seem to be affecting how much he like talking.
"It seems that your relationship with Percival has become newsworthy with your recent successes in the literary field. Congratulations on that by the way, it must have slipped my mind what with all the other… plentiful distractions." There was a dangerous edge to the last part and Newt continued to focus on ignoring him, jaw clenching lightly, and eyes fixed on the same silver line. "I should also commend you on expelling the Lestrange girl from your life, she was only going to cause you pain, your brother too no doubt." Newt risked a glance to see Gellert's face seemed sincere enough and he couldn't even find himself surprised at he extent of the knowledge he had anymore – he was clearly dredging up the depths of topics with which to prompt a conversation.
He sighed and relented "Leta didn't mean any harm, she's just trying to protect herself, her family aren't going to support her if she marries into the wrong sort of bloodline, they were unhappy enough with her friendship with me let alone her engagement to Theseus. It's good that she is moving on, I just… wish that I could've helped her do so."
"I must admit I respect her seeing the true value of her blood, though I see no reason for her to denounce your family's lineage – it is pure enough in its magical roots after all."
Newt's lip curled in distaste for the discussion of blood, as if that sort of thing actually had any value to individuals of a reasonable disposition. "Their problem wasn't with the bloodline but more to do with my father, bad reputation and all that…" Newt trailed off with a feeling akin to being kicked in the gut by an Erumpent at the train of thought it led him onto, forcibly pushing back at the customary nausea that accompanied thinking of his father – especially in such close proximity to Grindelwald.
Gellert seemed unphased of course and inclined his head nonchalantly in recognition of Newt's point "Quite rightly so I would imagine - he was a drunken, disgraced, abusive cur after all."
While Newt wasn't inclined to disagree with the comment, he didn't respond, merely ducked his head and tucked his legs in closer towards his body a bit. Just because Grindelwald may be right in his judgement, it didn't make his actions any less deplorable and bringing up such appalling occurrences as the circumstances of his death and what he forced Newt to do… it didn't exactly make Newt feel inclined to continue the conversation. In a vague search for something to distract himself from the disturbing train of thought, Newt cast his gaze to look back at Gellert's exposed forearms, realising with a distant curiosity that for all the exposure he had to Grindelwald, this was the first time he had seen him in anything less than full, smart dress.
He noted absently that the skin of his arms was just as pale as that of his face and hands, looking bleached and colourless under a dusting of white-blonde hair, in fact, aside from the silver of the bands on his wrists, the only trace of colour was a dark stain of ink marring the inside of the right wrist. The design was partially blocked by the band and the angle at which Grindelwald held his hands, but Newt still recognised the form of a crow on one side with the distinctive appearance of a Phoenix upon the other. The two birds' heads sprouting from a body that shared the primary feather spread of the Phoenix form, the heads were facing away from one another. Newt could only wonder at the meaning or purpose of the tattoo. A foolish whim of his youth perhaps? A working of magic into his flesh? Some deeper personal meaning? He daren't ask and so averted his gaze back to fix on his knees once more.
"I can see that you are going to continue your stubbornness for the time being." Gellert sighed after an extended period of silence between them and Newt offered him a pointed, slightly hopeful stare in return. Gellert's expression was tight with disenchantment but he seemed ready to relent and while Newt knew that nothing came easy with Grindelwald, he felt a tendril of hope curl through him.
"Does this mean you're going to leave me alone now?"
Gellert huffed a sound that could have been a laugh into the mental space connecting them and stood, looking down at Newt with what looked like dissatisfaction. "You're really so eager to return to the arms of your fraudulent Auror aren't you?"
Newt didn't dignify the petty name-calling with a response but inclined his head slightly, in that moment choosing to project a little - just a hint - of his affection for Percival towards Gellert. Enough so that he was left in no uncertain terms of his belief in Percival. The dark wizard's expression grew brittle in its forced calm but in the moments before Newt withdrew the sensation, he felt pain, anger and betrayal swirling potently beneath the surface of the other. It was alarming to sense such genuine seeming emotion from him – something even comparable to what he might expect from Percival were the situations reversed. He felt almost guilty in that instance, his expression faltering as he regarded the elder.
"Think on your options, Newt."
With a jolt and a sickening stomach flip Newt found himself back in his own bed. The sheets were rumpled and considerably warmer than the air he had been surrounded by mere seconds before. Newt jolted upright, drawing the blanket over himself quickly and glancing around in disorientation at the abrupt return, he noted with some apprehension but not entirely with surprise, that the bed beside him was empty. As he looked over to the window however he saw Percival stood there in the pale dawn light that came through the partially opened curtain, he was wearing his trousers loosely fastened around his waist but no shirt. His face was graced with a faraway, troubled expression and his hands were buried within his pockets, bare shoulders tense and shining pale and strong in contrast to the orange streaked beams of sunrise.
"Percy?" He turned, looking relieved and offered Newt a brief, pained smile.
"Ah, you're back."
Newt fumbled the sheets in his hands nervously, feeling as if there was something lingering in the space between them and that it was somehow his fault. "Yes, I'm sorry about that, I-"
"There's no need to apologise, Newt, I know this isn't your fault." His brow creased together further as he regarded Newt, warm-whiskey eyes darkened by tiredness, concern and something underlying that the magizoologist couldn't quite put his finger on. "I'm just glad you're alright… You are, aren't you?" The last sounded worryingly like a plea and Newt shifted his legs over the edge of the bed to face Percival fully, keeping the blanket hugged awkwardly round his waist as he did so.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Dumbledore's new defences seem to be working pretty well; he can't touch me anymore and he can't speak." Newt didn't bother to mention that it hadn't stopped communication between them entirely, he saw no sense in putting further strain on Percival when he already looked so worn. "Just the usual one-sided dark lord level staring contest." He tried to joke but sensed it fell flat as a muscle in Percival's jaw jumped slightly and his strained attempt at a reassuring smile slipped away.
Percival released a long breath then and came to sit on the bed beside Newt "You would tell me if there was something wrong wouldn't you, Newt?"
"Of course." Newt replied, brows furrowed and unsure of where the question where was coming from and Percival's own brows raised at the unsteady note in the response.
"I'm sorry if I seem untrusting, I'm just finding it difficult to accept the fact that the man I love disappeared from my arms and was taken away to some Lewis-forsaken cell and a sadistic, deluded megalomaniac."
"I can understand why that might be a little upsetting." Newt tried for humour again, attempting to regain the enjoyable, warm pleasure-haze they had fallen into earlier but at the same time knowing it was a futile effort. Percival sighed again, rubbing a hand over his face, scrubbing at his eyes in a fierce motion. "Sorry, I wish just as much as you do that I had control over this and as bad as it may sound… I've found a sort of… middle-ground with it." He paused, tilting his head and fumbling the sheets in his lap whilst trying to articulate the situation properly. "I damn well don't like it, but I know that for now at least, there isn't anything I can do about it. The way I see it, I could spend all my time worrying about it and wallow in misery or I could just get on with my life as best I can. That's not really such a bad thing… is it?" The last part slipped out as a weak voiced query; truly unsure of whether he was in the right state of mind with the situation or if it was some sort of apathy that was being magically worked upon him. But no matter the circumstances, he felt that taking his own advice and not creating unneeded suffering by worrying was the best way to approach the things he couldn't change.
Percival regarded him oddly before pulling him in for a swift, soft kiss and brushing a thumb across Newt's cheek in a particularly tender motion that had Newt looking at him questioningly – not minding at all but still curious. "No, Newt, there's nothing wrong with that at all, I just thought that… with your current state you might be trying to hide… a deeper hurt than you were letting on."
"No, no, no, nothing like that… not that he probably wouldn't try if he had the opportunity but… no." He trailed off at the furious look on Percival's face and quickly ran a comforting hand along the other's arm. "He can't touch me. I told you. He barely nudged my toe at one point and was thrown across the room. I'm safe as I can be, Percival, I promise."
The Auror only looked mildly appeased but a little of the tension and anger drained from him and Newt felt the coiled muscles under his hand loosen. Percival rubbed a hand over his face again and pulled Newt closer for another kiss, this one equally as sweet and un-intrusive but enough to settle Newt's jangling nerves and melt him slightly into the contact. He only pulled back when his muscles and bones began to flare in protest at the awkward angling and he leant back with a slight grimace, hand going to rub a little at his lower back and hover awkwardly over the area that was actually causing him trouble. Percival frowned when he noticed the source of the discomfort and placed his hand over Newt's helping to rub smooth, soothing circles in the dip just at the base of his spine. Newt smiled softly at the gesture.
"I'm sorry, was I too rough? I wasn't sure how it would be for-"
Newt was quick to cut off the apologies and muttered "No, you were-… it was… fantastic." He flushed slightly pink at the admittance and saw Percival's lips curve into what could only be described as a smirk. "It was probably more to do with the cold stone floor than you."
"I'll be sure to wrap you in a dozen or more layers next time." Percival teased and Newt couldn't help but smile at the mirroring of his earlier thoughts, even if he felt a slight shudder of anticipation at the possibility of another night like this. Both in eagerness of building further with Percival and the dread that came with thinking of Gellert's unwanted involvement in the aftermath.
"I- was it-…o-okay for you? I mean I don't r-rreally-" Percival cut him off with an enthusiastic kiss that had Newt's insides melting again and left him breathless moments after it had broken off.
"Sweetheart, don't doubt yourself." He chuckled lowly under his breath in a heady, warm way that had Newt shuddering a little more than just from the light chill in the air of his room. "You weren't lying when you said you were a fast learner. I would have enjoyed a night with you regardless of your experience, love. However, if there is anything you wish to try in future or anything you are averse to, just let me know and I'm sure we'll find some way of accommodating." The wink he shot Newt did unfair things to his suddenly hazy mind and he found himself flushing crimson again even as he nodded eagerly. He got the feeling that Percival was beginning to employ the signature Graves charm that he had heard Queenie and Tina mention jokingly in past when they were trying to tease him and Percival after a few drinks. It oddly enough didn't bother him to think that such tactics and charms had been used on numerous people before him as it was just a reflection of the mature charisma and sinful attractiveness that resided within Percival.
Before he could venture whatever inarticulate or comparatively lame response his starstruck brain could come up with, Percival planted another kiss on his lips and drew Newt up to his feet. Newt let out a light yelp both at the shock of aches and twinges that shot through his lower regions and as the blanket dropped from his waist, leaving him standing naked on slightly bowed legs. He wasn't necessarily insecure by any means – never really thought about his physique in comparison to others but the lingering traces of scars that had more particular meaning than errant scratches or burns from beasts made him feel a little self-conscious. Not to mention that he doubted any man would not feel inferior standing next to someone as physically imposing as Percival – all firmly built muscle, a very slight tone to the skin and a smattering of dark chest hair that trailed down enticingly in a 'v' shape to where his trousers rode low on his strong hips. Newt had to forcibly tear his gaze away from where he was shamefully ogling his partner and looked to meet Percival's stupidly self-assured grin and warm-whiskey eyes.
"A bath will help with those aches, trust me." Percival spoke briskly and Newt snapped himself out of a trance-like state as the American took him by the hand and drew him down the corridor to the bathroom. He waved his hand at the tap to fill the bathtub and though the old pipes shuddered and creaked as they often did, they relented and began to spew forth hot water. "Do you still have any of that Bruisewort balm left?" He asked, referring to the salve that Newt had taken to applying on himself, his creatures and occasionally on Percival or Bunty whenever they inevitably got minor injuries from assisting him. Newt nodded and raised his hand, incanting the summoning charm so as to avoid going down into the cellar in his sore, sleepy and naked state. A few moments later there was a slight crash downstairs from in the kitchen and Newt cursed as realised that the flying balm had probably knocked something over on its way up. "Bugger, need to work on trajectory."
Percival chuckled as the balm shot through the door to Newt's hand though raised an impressed brow "Been working on your wandless magic I see?"
"S'pose so, felt like something I should get the knack of." Newt replied, leaning over awkwardly to turn off the tap before the bath overflowed and hesitated for only a moment before sinking into the water. He let out a hiss as the too-hot water seared at his tender flesh and the light bruises that dotted his hips, neck and wrists but once again found that the sensation helped numb him out a little nicely. He looked up a little awkwardly at Percival who was regarding him oddly before he waved his hand at one of the taps and a jet of cold water suddenly spayed into the bath, sending a shock of sensation akin to burning up his feet. The young magizoologist yelped and drew his feet back up towards himself, turning his head up to glare at Percival's smirking mug before seeing that he had stripped off his trousers and a moment later Newt could only yelp again when he stepped right into the bathtub with him.
He was barely aware of the tap turning off or the more reasonable temperature of the bath before Percival was half-straddling him, leaning forwards to press his lips insistently to Newt's. He muffled a squeak of surprise and found himself giggling slightly into the kiss before finally returning it, pulling Percival on top of him more thoroughly and weaving his hands around the others neck. Percival's hands tangled in his wet hair and Newt found that the aches in him dissipated as they drew closer together, the warm water and mind-numbing intimacy blowing it away. Even so, he didn't begrudge it when one of Percival's hands disappeared momentarily before returning with the balm that had been resting on the bath edge, he withdrew from the kiss and began rubbing it slowly, sensuously over Newt's neck, dipping below the water to massage his shoulders and lower-back before dipping further under the water to rub down lower. Sparks lanced through Newt's skin from the points of contact and Newt found himself arching into Percival, forcing the Auror to readjust on him with a chuckle and causing water to slop over the sides of the bath.
"Percival!" He near-squeaked into the next kiss as the man in question's deft fingers traced between his legs, not really complaining but still overtaken by the sudden turn of events. Newt found himself mouthing his half-hearted complaints into Percival's shoulder as his eyes fluttered shut, the American's mouth sucking new livid marks upon the skin of his throat high above the others and into his jawline. The hand in his hair was tugging rougher than it had before but Newt had the feeling it was more due to Percival's propping elbow slipping on the bath edge as they slipped deeper into the water. So preoccupied were they that neither noticed the knocking at the door downstairs and it was only the much closer sound of footsteps ascending the stairs that gave them any warning before an irritatingly familiar voice called out. "Newt, you lazy git, out of bed now! Tina was under the impression you were dropping by Queenie's for breakfast before you went to see Credence. Get a move on."
Percival cursed colourfully under his breath and summoned a towel to his hand, quickly standing and wrapping it around his waist before helping Newt up out of his flushed and incredibly awkward sprawled position in the water. There were a few awkwardly loud squeaks of his feet and hands on the worn porcelain tub and Newt cast about hastily for another towel, spotting only the one he had used earlier to clean up one of the Nifflers who had decided to go digging through anther enclosure and got covered in excessive amounts of Graphorn urine. He grimaced but cast a hasty Scourgify on it before wrapping it around himself, it was just in time as he heard steps directly outside the bathroom door and there was an impatient rapping on the wood. "Hurry up would you, Newt, I promised I'd check in on you before I headed to work but I haven't got all day."
"Worse than when we were children." Newt mouthed and threw Percival an exasperated, apologetic look before stepping out into the corridor to come nearly nose to nose with a startled Theseus. He flushed red at his own half-undressed state, hair plastered to his head but tried to school his expression into a less damning or mortified one. "Sorry, forgot about the time, just needed a bath, you know what I'm like, careless me, always getting messed up!" His falsely bright tone and incredibly awkward words prompted a snort from the bathroom, and he covered it up hastily by coughing loudly, offering Theseus an apologetic, sheepish smile and edging along the corridor to his room.
His brother was regarding him as if he'd lost his mind and Newt had to fight hard to repress nervous, embarrassed laughter as he backed into his room "I'll be ready in just a bit, wouldn't mind putting the kettle on, would you? Thanks." He ducked into his room, practically slamming the door in Theseus' bewildered and irritated face before hastening to get dressed. Thankfully the massive awkwardness of the situation had abated the more physical signs of what he and Percival had been doing before the untimely interruption and he cursed himself for forgetting time so badly that he hadn't realised it was the day when he was supposed to be overseeing Credence's second lesson. Time seemed to blur together recently, and he could only hope that Theseus took his suggestion and went downstairs and didn't discover Percival naked in his bathroom. The awkwardness of Newt's fumbling excuses had been bad enough already without that being added on top of it.
He was just tugging on his waistcoat when he heard a pop of apparition that had him turning to see an exasperated looking Percival standing there, clutching a towel over a distinctive bulge, trousers fisted in his other hand. His dark hair was too plastered to his face, disarrayed from its usual careful style and dripping, his face quite flushed. Newt found himself releasing a laugh, trying to stifle it both for the sake of propriety and not annoying Percival any further. He sighed irritably and grabbed up his shirt, releasing the towel much to Newt's distraction as he too dressed hastily, though he did so with perhaps more success than Newt – spelling the creases from the clothes as straightening them accordingly. When he was finished, he stepped forward with a tired smirk and did up Newt's tie where his hands had been hovering in his preoccupation, he tied it quickly and pressed a hasty kiss to Newt's lips before nodding towards the door. "Shall we?"
"Um, I think Theseus is still downstairs and I don't really want to start a fight this early in the morning if that's alright with you."
Percival raised a brow sceptically, challengingly but not without humour "Is there some sort of ward that's been placed on your virginity that I was unaware of?"
Newt flushed bright red and shook his head bemusedly, muttering "No, no, of course not."
"Then why should your brother suspect anything of us other than what has been occurring for months beforehand. I've been sleeping over at your place for a while now, its only your ridiculously adorable fumblings that has anyone suspecting otherwise." He pressed his hands onto Newt's shoulders in a deliberately bracing gesture, gazing at him warmly, calmly, until Newt sighed and nodded; realising that he was probably right.
"Sorry, haven't really done any of this 'being caught in incredibly awkward erotic situations' thing before, forgive me if I'm a little rusty on it." He grumbled
Percival chuckled heartily at that and winked "Well, I've had enough experience for both of us I would imagine and there's nothing to be ashamed of, Newt."
"I'm not ashamed - not of you at any rate, its more just because its Theseus. He knows more about the etiquette of these sorts of things than I do. Probably able to tell straight away from the way I was babbling."
"Maybe but Theseus isn't as much of a ladies' man as he pretends – just gets away with being a smug ass. He's got to accept that he can't control everything around him as much as he may want to."
"You don't need to tell me that." Newt muttered but relented as he opened his door and descended the stairs, greeted by the pungent aroma of coffee alighting the air, noting Theseus standing, briefcase on the table and tired frown fixed upon his face by the stove.
"Sorry bout that Thee, you can probably head off to work now if you want."
"Nonsense, Newt, I think I can stop just long enough for some coffee and ask just what the hell you are doing, Graves." He turned, face tight with irritation and arms folded across his chest in what Newt recognised with dread as Theseus' patented 'I'm not budging till I get what I want' stance. Newt blanched but tried his best to offer Theseus a puzzled look, opening his mouth to offer an explanation that he hadn't really thought through yet when his brother continued. "Did you think my department wouldn't hear of it when you arrested two British citizens and placed them under MACUSA custody?"
Both men looked at one another in a slow confusion for a few moments, Percival recovering quicker than Newt of course and replying in a smooth, business-like tone. "They were slaughtering No-Majs on American soil and are part of the ongoing case against Rosier, what did you expect us to do with them, Scamander?"
"Turn them over to our custody perhaps as the international edict would dictate?" Theseus scowled, waving a hand at the whistling kettle behind him so that it floated over to fill two mugs, spoons soon following to stir in coffee granules. "It's not like you aren't in a position to be travelling between here and America anyway, you may as well put your established journey route to use."
"Very well, we had already got all we had expected to from Crowley and Finch anyway. I'll send word to have them transported this afternoon."
"Much obliged." Theseus replied sardonically, tipping his mug slightly in Percival's direction before sipping, grimacing mildly at the bitter flavour, glancing over to Newt. "Haven't got any milk, have you?"
Newt shrugged apologetically, still slightly pink in the cheeks "None that's safe to drink, no."
"Dare I ask?" Percival commented, raising a brow and taking the other coffee mug, knowing that Newt wasn't a fan of it so supposing it had been meant for him. An odd courtesy from Theseus it seemed.
"Most of it is for the Leucrotta young and believe me, you don't want to put that in your tea."
"I'll take your word for it."
Percival and Theseus drank their coffee in a tense silence, eying one another with suspiciously mild distaste whilst Newt glanced at the clock, realising he probably had just enough time to do his rounds before leaving to attend Credence's lesson. He nodded briefly to both before heading downstairs, in the hallway, he almost bumped into Bunty who had just come through the front door. "Oh, morning, Newt!"
"Good morning." Newt replied shortly, hastening down the stairs as she fumbled her coat and umbrella off onto the coatrack in the hallway. He made his usual path around the cellar in record time, aided greatly by the use of a few routine spells and Bunty picking up stray jobs behind him. Having successfully made up a number of enclosures for the creatures that usually resided in his case in the cellar, his portable Magizoo currently resided in the nearby shed with only the more permanent residents still residing inside. Dougal, for instance, had refused to make himself visible for long enough to be moved and as he caused no trouble and acted mostly independently, Newt was content to let him be. In the spare time he had had since his return from New York so long ago, he had deconstructed Frank's habitat with some heaviness to his heart and a pang of fondness that made him miss the Thunderbird all the more. The case and cellar both taken care of, Newt snagged a little-too-stale rock cake that he had been planning to feed to the Augurey. Queenie and Jacob had made a habit of passing over any stale or burnt leftovers to Newt for his creatures and while most of them got to the intended source, he found that he often sated his hunger with them when he thought about it.
When he arrived back upstairs about a half-hour later, he did so to a flurry of spellfire tearing apart the insides of his kitchen. He stopped dead by the doorway, taking in the simultaneously exasperating and somewhat amusing sight of Theseus sending multiple hexes at a shield surrounding Percival as the American Auror stood leaning up against the countertop by the sink, sipping his coffee with one hand whilst the other maintained the shield with mere disinterested flicks of his wand. Newt was stuck between anger at his brother, exasperation at Percival's smug, casual stance that was clearly designed to provoke Theseus further and begrudging amusement at the ridiculousness of the scene.
"Thee, could you please stop destroying my kitchen if you please?" Newt called calmly across the room and Theseus paused in his spellfire to face Newt, face flushed, and jaw clenched. Percival took the opportunity to lower his shield, placing his now empty mug down on the side and waving a wand at the minor destruction of the kitchen; charming shattered crockery back together and setting the furniture to rights. Newt fixed his brother with a strictly disapproving stare, moving in to help with the reparations, he was puzzled at first until he noticed that lying amongst the rubble of smashed pottery were his trousers and boots from the night before. Ah. That might explain it.
Whilst Newt felt utterly mortified as he scooped the errant garments up and charmed them to return upstairs to his room, he was also feeling relieved that neither had been hurt in the rather one-sided duel. He glared, red-faced with embarrassment over at Theseus and heard himself asking in a strained tone. "What in the name of Paracelsus was that about?"
"Just allowing your brother to relieve a little of the tension that has been making him more insufferable that usual." Percival replied smoothly and while Theseus fixed the other Auror with an indignant glare he nodded, nonetheless. Newt rather felt like he was missing something here but decided that now was probably not the time to raise such questions as he didn't want to be late for this session. Having missed the last one, he felt rather eager not to let Credence or Dumbledore down again after the younger wizard had seemed so eager for Newt to be there. He hoped it was a sign that the Obscurial was gaining confidence in himself or in Newt and intended to help Credence as much as he could to make up for his past failings on the younger's behalf.
He fixed both Aurors in his kitchen with a calculating look for a matter of long moments before shaking his head and muttering "I'm off but I'd appreciate it if you refrained from any more 'stress-relief' duels inside my house if that's at all possible."
"I should hope so, I need to return to MACUSA anyway, I'll see you this evening." Percival replied briskly, leaning over to briefly plant a kiss on Newt's lips before retreating to the living room. There was a whoosh of the Floo and a flash of green firelight from the next room and Newt knew he was gone, feeling a pang of annoyance and despondence at their time together being interrupted yet again.
Newt fixed his brother with another questioning, tired look "You don't have to behave like this you know."
Theseus shrugged, moving to collect his case from the table as he replied "It's just as Graves said. Just clearing the air and making a few things clear in the process."
"Really." Newt's eyebrows rose impressively high "Cause it seemed to me like you were being your usual overprotective idiot self. I've told you a hundred times, Thee, I don't need you attacking every person you think has done me wrong. I appreciate you taking the wards of my house and it's certainly a step in the right direction but neither Percy nor Albus deserve you attacking them whenever you lose your temper."
"Someone has to keep an eye on you, Newt and seeing as you don't have any sense of what's good for you, it may as well be me that makes sure the people around you know that there are boundaries."
"It's not up to you to decide what those boundaries are; it isn't anyone's decision but my own." Newt said, exasperation lacing his tone heavily; feeling like he had had this argument more times than he could count by this point. "Besides, I think that both Albus and Percy are aware of your sense of 'boundaries' by this point – two punches to the face and being attacked in my kitchen probably did the trick for both of them."
Theseus' brows rose and he looked minorly smug for a moment, though quizzical as he asked, "Twice you say?"
Newt sighed irritably but cracked a small smile at the stupid similarity between the two Aurors' actions. "Yes twice, Percival clocked him one too and I still expect apologies from both of you at some point."
"Not bloody likely." Theseus muttered but looked oddly, begrudgingly impressed at the news, he shook his head slightly as if to rouse himself, heading for the door too, Newt followed, briefly ensuring that his case was safely still warded and sending it down back into the cellar. The brothers stood on the doorstep beside one another as Newt fumbled the door shut and locked it before turning back to the elder. "Do be careful today, would you?" It sounded more like a plea than and order despite Theseus' petulant tone and he nodded briefly.
"You too."
Theseus smirked "Always am." And then disappeared, Newt shook his head before apparating too.