“Over there! Just around the corner!” A voice shouted behind Newt. It sounded angry and not quite as far away as Newt would have liked it to have been.
“Bloody hell! I thought I had lost them,” The magizoologist mumbled underneath his breath as he hurried down the darkly lit maze of alleyways.
He glanced around at the small crowd gathered here and there.
The stares coming from them only followed him for a short moment before moving towards something else. Not surprising, though Newt still found himself thankful for it.
The crowd were after all probably used to all types of happenings given the place they currently found themselves situated at.
Nupper Creek
It was a sketchy area, well hidden and therefore perfect for activities that were considered illegal by law.
Newt hadn’t been surprised to trail the poachers to this particular place.
There were after all only a few handful places one could conduct sales of an endangered species like the oocamies, assuredly all of them illegal.
He bumped into someone, feeling himself stumble a little to the side due to the impact made.
“Watch it!” An elderly lady with frizzy white hair sneered after him as he stuttered some apologies before sprinting down the road again.
Newt hoped he hadn’t lost too much precious time stumbling into her. He couldn’t afford to be slowed down more than what he already had been.
Thankfully though the crowd seemed to dissipate the further along the road he went, making it easier to navigate.
His cloak was wildly flaring behind him as he turned around another corner, his hands tightly holding onto his suitcase as if it was a lifeline.
The four young oocamies that he had rescued were safely nested inside, probably being tended to by Dougal in the current moment.
A smile was brought to his face by the mere mental picture of the demiguise being trailed after four soon to be clingy younglings. Dougal had a soothing presence to himself which made him the perfect caretaker assistant.
Suddenly Newt felt a hand grip his elbow, yanking him into a dark alleyway. He felt a hand come up to his mouth before covering it. Soon after he felt the rest of his body being caged in by a tall figure.
“Mmph!” Newt tried trashing in the other’s hold, heart thumping wildly as he refused to let go of his suitcase.
The figure, most likely a man by the feel of it, simply started to drag Newt even more back into the alleyway.
Newt felt panic starting to consume him at the thought of the fate that awaited his creatures. His brother had been right! His carelessness would be his downfall one day.
The guilt started to gnaw at him, but he didn’t have time to ponder about it too much before a noise interrupted him.
“Shhh, Scamander. Will you hold still for a moment? I’m trying to help you!” A familiar voice uttered out, the ginger haired man tensing up before relaxing when he realized who he was dealing with.
“D-director??” The hand removed itself from his face and the grip around Newt relaxed for a bit, making it possible for Newt to turn around in the other man’s hold.
The voice was undeniably the director’s. However, the face looking back at him was unfamiliar.
Although Newt definitely recognized the same expression the director would wear on his face when he was displeased with something, whether it be Wess messing up some permits or when Niff had stolen his cufflinks again.
He felt a breath of relief escape him, only to then tense up again when really realizing who he was actually dealing with.
It wasn’t just Percival, a man working in the department next to him, who he was dealing with. No, the man also happened to be the director of magical security who just so happened to have caught Newt escaping trouble for the umpteenth time.
His grip tightened around his suitcase handle again and his eyes darted around nervously as he tried to figure out what to say.
It was safe to say that he didn’t think Percival would appreciate the activities that he had been up to this particular evening.
He was a man of law and order after all, always scolding Newt whenever he got into a mess at work due to his recklessness.
The other man moved backwards to give the other some space. He could probably tell that Newt was panicking a little.
“W-what are you doing here? And why is your hair and face like..that?” Newt eventually settled on.
Percival raised an eyebrow at him, his dark turned blonde hair falling in strands slightly in his face.
Newt had this odd urge of wanting to brush them away, but found himself managing to stay rooted in his place.
The director was probably already annoyed with him as he was.
The blonde haired man waved around with his hand, his disguise shimmering away and leaving him with his usual appearance.
Newt swallowed thickly, looking down on the ground. There was always something attractive about the director doing wandless magic.
“I should be asking you the very same, but something tells me I don’t want to know.” Percival’s eyed Newt’s suitcase with a bit of an exasperated look.
It made Newt nervous, but he knew the director well enough by now to know that he would never confiscate something Newt held so precious just like that.
In fact, the man had always gone great lengths for Newt to be able to keep his creatures, often helping him write new permits and treating the creatures with respect and patience rather than anger and abrasiveness.
Despite all the scolding Newt had received from the man at work though, he also knew that the director was a good man, always kind and comforting whenever they were faced with the uglier side of their work.
Percival moved up his gaze to watch Newt again, probably to inspect the other man’s frazzled state.
“The same is also valid for the second question. I disguised myself for a mission. You on the other hand.. Why are you dressed like.. that?,” The director scoured his eyes over the clothes that were barely visible inside Newt’s cloak, and the redhead felt himself blush.
The gaze in Percival’s eyes seemed a bit intense for a moment, and Newt felt his hands nervously start to close the cloak tighter on himself.
“I had to blend in!” He rushed out with saying, feeling for some reason the need to defend himself.
Percival looked at him thoughtfully.
“Did a lot of people see you dressed like this tonight?”
Ironically enough though Newt had never set his foot inside the bar, managing to sneak in from another entrypoint thanks to Pickett’s discreet scouting skills.
“N-no. I don’t think so,” He replied, feeling an uncomfortable feeling settle in his stomach.
He didn’t like to usually wear such tightfitting pants and almost sheer like blouses, but a bow tie and a mustard yellow waistcoat wouldn’t exactly have made it possible for him to blend in the high end bar that the poachers had decided to conduct their meeting in.
“Do I look that bad in it?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper.
He felt his self-esteem drop a little. Though the attire definitely had been out of his comfort zone at the beginning of the evening, it had actually started to grow on him a little. He now felt confident in it.
Or he had at least. Now he just felt silly.
Newt bit his lips, shifting on his feet a little. He felt anxious.
“No, of course not. You look great. I just..” The director sighed, looking frustrated.
“Never mind..”
Newt felt perplexed by the older man’s reaction, but also relieved. He felt strangely giddy over receiving a compliment from the other.
He didn’t know exactly why the director’s opinion mattered to him as much as it did, but for some reason it did.
There was always this weird fluttering feeling in his stomach, like butterflies, whenever the director interacted with him sans the moments of scolding.
He showed a rare calm and forthcoming attitude for everything involving Newt.
The magizoologist quite liked the director because of that. Although it also helped that Percival was attractive in Newt’s eyes.
Then there was the wandless magic, his leadership skills, and the way his gaze would linger on Newt at times.
Newt snapped out of his daze all of a sudden.
This was not the time nor place to daydream about the director. He had more pressing matters at hand.
“Newt?”
The director looked at him, concern shining in his eyes.
Newt felt an arrow pierce his heart at the director’s use of his first name, but willed himself to calm down quickly.
He was acting like a teenager with a huge crush on someone.
“Wait,” He thought.
A realization hit him, making his shoulders sag down due to a range of mixed emotions hitting him all at once.
“Gosh, I’m patetic. A crush on the director of all people?” He thought to himself sadly.
There was no way a relationship between the two of them would work because of how different they were. The director was, after all, way out of Newt’s league.
“Is that what you think?”
The question brought Newt out of his stupor. He suddenly realized that the director was looking at him with an unreadable expression.
He suddenly recalled the question the other man had just posed, and realized he must have been thinking out loud.
“Oh, no..” He thought to himself, feeling dread fill his body.
He didn’t want the other to know, fearing rejection would make their relationship more awkward afterwards.
Newt didn’t have much time to ponder on it though because increasingly louder noises started to come closer to the alleyways that they were hiding away in.
“We have to find them! Those oocamies are worth more than what any of you can imagine!”
Newt stiffened.
Were the poachers coming back or something?
Newt started to move to get a better look towards the entryway of the alley, thoughts running miles inside his head while trying to figure out how to escape the situation with both himself, Percival and his creatures intact.
“Newt?”
The magizoologist sighed before starting to open his mouth again when a scurry of noises interrupted him before he could begin to talk.
“He must be here somewhere! He can’t have apparated inside.There’s a ban here, remember?”
Newt swallowed thickly while drawing up his wand.
The poachers were definitely back then. Newt had to act quickly.
He had to protect his creatures. Not to say least; Percival as well. The rest could wait.
He glanced at the director who seemed thoughtful.
“Newt-”
However, Newt interrupted him before he could say anything more.
“Sorry. We can talk later. Just take care of my creatures for now, Percival. I know you can protect them well. I trust you. Please?”
He started to hand his suitcase gingerly over to a surprised looking director before preparing himself to face head on with the poachers.
To his surprise the director simply levitated his suitcase to behind a garbage can before casting a disillusionment charm over it.
He smiled sheepishly.
“Newt. There’s no need for that. Just follow my lead,” He said.
The magizoologist turned to look back at the older man in confusion. He didn’t have much time to ponder on the other man’s statement for long though before feeling himself being pushed up against the brick wall.
“P-Percival?” Newt stuttered out the man’s name in astonishment, then blushed after seeing the proximity between the two of them.
He could vaguely smell the director’s cologne, musky and earthy. It made him want to relax, and he probably would have if it hadn’t been for how fast his heart was currently beating in his chest.
“I quite like hearing my name coming from your mouth, Newt,” Percival grinned at him.
Newt almost fainted. The director’s smile up close was dangerous for him!
“You said that no one saw you without the cloak, right?”
Newt shook his head dazedly.
“Y-yes.”
“Good. It’s a bit of a shame, though it satisfies me too. I’m a rather selfish man after all.”
Newt blinked owlishly at the other man before realizing the implications of what the other had just said.
“O-oh..” He stuttered out lamely, making the older man raise one eyebrow at him.
“I mean..That’s good.” He flushed, berating himself in his head for not being able to speak all of a sudden.
Percival simply vanished his cloak away in answer, the action feeling unusually intimate despite the situation they were finding themselves in.
Newt swallowed thickly, meeting the director’s gaze head on.
He was having difficulties keeping up with the situation, but he could see that Percival had a plan.
“I see someone down here!”
Newt gasped, turning his head to see three figures running with full speed towards them.
“Newt.” The reddish brown haired man focused his gaze back on the older man.
“You said that you trust me, right?” Percival’s hand came to caress Newt’s cheek, making the curly haired man shudder.
Newt tilted his head, not needing a moment to think.
“Yeah, I do,” he whispered.
At his response Percival seemed to tense up a little, though Newt could see his eyes go soft. He felt warm on the inside knowing that the director was looking at him like that.
“Good, because I’m about to kiss you,” Percival then whispered back before tilting Newt’s head with one hand.
The magizoologist’s mind went blank. Percival was going to what now?
Belatedly he realized the intent behind the sudden declared action. Though it still couldn’t quench down the feelings of surging excitement in him.
Newt only had a moment to prepare, but one moment was enough for him to understand that the kiss was only supposed to be a cover, a distraction from the truth.
Most people did not think twice about engaging with two people busy making out with each other.
However as soon as the man had covered Newt's lips with his everything inside the red-haired man’s mind went blank once again.
He couldn’t help the explosion of giddiness that hit him.
“Is this really happening?” he thought to himself as he felt the director- no, Percival’s tongue slip into his mouth.
It was his first kiss so he didn’t have much to compare it with, but he could already tell Percival was a good kisser.
It made his stomach churn a little, but the feeling of bitterness quickly dissipated as the kiss went on.
It felt good. In fact way too good. Newt was on fire, and the director’s wandering hands were not helping the case.
One moment they were on his face, the next on his waist and then they dangerously moved lower and lower.
Newt eventually wrapped his own arms around Percival’s neck, not having to reach up much due to his tall height.
The situation outside the two of them was all but forgotten though Newt thought that at one point he vaguely heard a chorus of disgusted noises and possibly some.. hollering?
He did not want to know, nor did he care. All he could think about was Percival.
Eventually though the kiss had to end, as Newt was starting to lose breath.
He barely had time to brace himself for the awkwardness and the pain to come when he felt a hand tilt his chin up.
The magizoologist looked into the director’s dark brown eyes hesitantly.
“You shouldn’t say that I’m the one out of your league. You’re beautiful, caring and passionate. I bet you have all kinds of people chasing after you. If you think about it that way aren’t you the one way out of my league?”
“B-but-”
However, Newt didn’t get to say much more than that before the other man leaned closer in towards him again.
“May I kiss you again in hopes of convincing you that I am in fact very much enamored with you?”
Newt froze up, taking in the earnest expression on the other man’s face.
His thoughts were all messed up, but he knew he could trust the other despite how scared and confused he was.
Besides.. He wanted this. Badly too.
It was too good to be true, but still.. He wanted to give it a chance.
“O-okay,” He whispered out, flushing.
Then he was kissing the director again, his hands tangling up in the older man’s hair as he took in the warmth of the other.
It ended way too soon, but it was indeed enough for Newt to understand what had actually happened.
“You like me..” He whispered in disbelief. “I like you too..”
He heard the other chuckle.
“This wasn’t how I had pictured the evening developing, but I can’t say that I have any complaints. What about you, doll?”
Newt simply leaned into the director’s chest, trying to hide his red face as he shook his head.
“I certainly did not expect this outcome either,” He mumbled. “Not that I am complaining,” He added a tad bit later, worried about being misunderstood.
His mind was still going a thousand miles per second after all. So it was still a bit difficult to think clearly.
Percival waved his hands again, and suddenly Newt was holding his suitcase again. He looked up at the dark haired man, still feeling dazed.
“Now, what do you say we capture some poachers together? I imagine it will make a great first date, don’t you think so?”