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The first time was an accident.
To say Newt was clumsy was an understatement at the best of times, let alone when he was in a rush to get to that meeting with Picquery that started, ah - that started precisely five minutes ago.
Tina was waiting against a pillar when it happened. She saw Newt’s trailing shoelace, saw the fatal step of a passing worker, saw him halter and flail and then finally fall, as if in slow motion, as if suspended in the air. And then she saw the black sleeved arm shoot out to catch Newt.
Graves seized the falling man’s upper arm, yanking him back to rights with such force that Newt falls against him instead of the cold marble floor, fingers clutching now at the silky fabric of Graves’ coat rather than the intangible air and clinging to the strong, sturdy figure. When Newt finally straightens out, his blue eyes meet Graves’ for the briefest of seconds, resting there for a beat – a beat in which graves notices how pink and plump and soft Newt’s lips look - before suddenly the reality of their somewhat compromising situation settles in, awkward tone descending on the pair. They’re far too close and Newt’s fingers are too tightly tangled in Graves’ coat, and the faltering and uncertainty curls his shoulders in again, stammered apologies falling from his lips. His flushing cheeks and averted eyes miss the small smile Graves gives before checking Newt is okay, the tenderness in his eyes surprising even Tina, who arguably knew him the best out of all his friends, in spite of the fact she hardly classed herself as knowing him well. Newt gave the slightest of incline of his head, curls falling more over his eyes, to answer Graves.
They stayed in the moment a few seconds more, before Graves reached out, almost as if to pat Newt’s chest but hesitating slightly, as if he thought better, turning the motion into a somewhat disjointed wave of farewell, turning on heel and setting off towards Tina. Eyes that first were fascinated with the marble parquet beneath his feet eventually looked up to her face once a mere few metres away, catching the smug grin and raised eyebrows as she joins him in their journey towards the exit of MACUSA headquarters and onwards to their afternoon investigation.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
She nodded at Newt’s hastily retreating back. “What was that about huh?”
After a brief moment of confusion, realisation dawns on Graves, shortly followed by a look of disgruntlement.
“It wasn't what it looked like.”
Giving a knowing nod, Tina merely grins wider.
“Sure it’s not.”
***
The second time Tina had reason to believe it was less of an accident.
The past few weeks had seen Graves slowly work his way into their little group, starting by joining them for coffee at Jacobs bakery every now and then and escalating eventually to more often than not attending their regular hang out sessions at the Goldstein’s flat. His easy confidence and casual personality outside of the working environment made him an easy fit with everyone, but in particular, it seemed, with Newt.
Tina had noticed the changes. Noticed the minuscule glances and hesitant touches and the permanent dusting of rose under the freckles that littered Newt’s skin. Noticed the lingering looks and fond smiles and soft, warm eyes that she’d previously considered inconceivable from Graves. Newt bloomed under this gaze, confidence growing and hesitance fading away – it was undeniable that the effect was good, even if Tina wasn’t entirely sure why there was such an effect at the moment.
It happened again when they were down in the case running the evening rounds – Graves had spent the evening at the flat with them for dinner, and since becoming a more permanent fixture in their little four, had been entrusted with the task of assisting Newt feed the mooncalves. From where Tina was busying herself with the Occamy babies, she heard a crash. She moved to peer round the side of the hut, to the sunset illuminated hill to which Graves and Newt had been headed. And caught sight of the tangle of blue and black and Hufflepuff yellow lying in the sunlit grass.
Newt lay sprawled on top of Graves, freckles dancing like sunspots on the water as he laughed on top of him, spilled mooncalf pellets floating in the space around their heads. Warmth oozed out of Newt in surplus when he was like this, open and comfortable and happy, and Graves could only bask in his radiating glow, laughing along with him. Tina notices the tree root behind Graves’ knees, clearly the cause of the somewhat incriminating pose they find themselves in now – however she does ponder the likely hood of Newt tripping also, or whether perhaps he had some assistance in landing in such a convenient place. Eventually their laughter peters off, wide bright smile lingering on Newt’s face, him all crinkly eyed and dimpled, and all Graves can think about is how beautiful he looks and how perfectly their bodies align like this, Newt’s heart matching up exactly over his own, joining as one pulse. Newt’s blue eyes finally land on Graves’, taking in the softness and tenderness etched across his face, smile becoming equally soft and gentle. He feels Graves’ fingers drag across his forehead, brushing his curled fringe away, letting his eyes flutter shut in time to miss Graves’ slight incline of the neck, as though he moved to close the few inches that had been between them. And suddenly the weight is gone from Graves’ chest, as Newt is off and away again, oblivious as ever, missing the disappointed, dejected look on Graves’ face.
“Can you grab the Niffler’s food by the hut? I haven’t gotten round to him yet, and besides, he likes you better anyway…”
Tina watches as Graves hauls himself to his feet, meandering over to the hut and, as he catches her eyes, glowering.
“Not what it looked like.”
She just laughs.
***
The third time Tina would quite like to erase from her memory.
It had been a busy morning, and it was going to be an even busier afternoon, and all she really wanted to do was get Graves to sign off on this report and get started on it. Perhaps had she not been in such a rush, the situation would have been avoidable, as without her haste, she likely would have knocked before barging into her bosses’ office. And being greeted with a sight that would only make things more awkward for the next few weeks.
“Let me guess, not what it looks like?”
Rather than jumping apart at the click of the door, the two had stayed frozen in position – Newt, back pressed against the bookshelf, eyes half shut in anticipation and breathing heavily - Graves, one hand pushing firmly on Newt’s chest and the other cupping his cheek, just ghosting his lips over Newt’s. An energy akin to static crackled in the air around them, their bodies so impossibly close together yet still not close enough for the insatiable magnetic force pulling at them, drawing them in. Tension dripped through the air in the room, the deafening silence a crushing weight of anticipation.
At Tina’s comment, Graves paused, smirking as his eyes flickered down over Newt’s rumpled clothes, quivering lips, furiously blushing cheeks, and finally back up to his eyes, eyes that were full of trust and warmth and fixed on Graves’ own.
“No, no actually this – this is exactly what it looks like.”