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English
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Historias boys love, Percival y Next
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Published:
2020-04-06
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1,421
Chapters:
1/1
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14
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325
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In which Newt is asexual and Graves is trying to understand what that means

Summary:

A lot of asexual characters are written as being aromantic as well, and since that’s not always the way it goes here’s some asexual Newt.

Notes:

I like these two. I may well write more in this AU, though not necessarily in chronological order.

Also, bear with Graves. He's doing his best.

Work Text:

“What’s the difference,” Graves asks once, “Between your relationship with me and your relationship with Jacob?”

Newt blinks, nonplussed. “You’re my boyfriend,” he says, hesitantly, as though this were a trick question and there was an answer he was missing. “Jacob’s my friend.”

“You hug him,” Graves says. He passes Newt his tea but when he sits down he does it on the opposite end of the sofa, an empty cushion left between them. His own mug he keeps cradled in his hands. “You talk to him about things that matter to you. You introduce him to all the new creatures. You let him babysit the occamies.”

“Well,” Newt says, because those things are true. “Yes? He’s a good friend.”

Graves nods. He doesn’t look up from his mug and Newt pulls himself in from his untidy sprawl, tucking his feet underneath himself and turning to face Graves more fully.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Graves hums. “Would you kiss him?” he asks instead of answering, and Newt stares at him and fails to comprehend.

“Would I what?”

“Kiss him. If he wanted you to, would you kiss him?”

“No?” Newt says, bewildered. “He’s got Queenie. I’ve got you. Why would he want me to kiss him? I don’t want to kiss him. What the hell?”

“You don’t want to kiss anyone,” Graves points out, glancing up from his mug just long enough to make eye contact before looking away. “I thought… that’s what you said, isn’t it?”

“I… what? I said I don’t want to have sex with anyone. Because I’m asexual. And that’s what asexual is. How did this go to me wanting to kiss Jacob?” If the last question is plaintive, it’s because Newt is feeling out of his depth. Maybe Graves didn’t know Newt was asexual at first, maybe that’s Newt’s fault for not realising that Graves hadn’t picked up the cautious hints Newt had dropped when they started going out - or maybe it’s nobody’s fault, just a confusion that Newt had agonised over for a long week before blurting it out to Graves and waiting on the edge of panic for his reaction.

I’m sorry, he’d said, miserable and guilty and terrified of losing him. I thought you knew. I didn’t mean to mislead you.

You’re still you, aren’t you? Graves had replied. I still love you.

And Newt had been so relieved. He’d thought they were good. He’d thought he was the luckiest man alive to have Graves and he’d smiled and he’d laughed and he’d kissed him and he doesn’t know what happened between yesterday and today but it feels like it’s falling apart. “Graves,” he pleads. “Tell me. I thought… I thought it was ok.”

“It is ok,” Graves says, and he frowns when he does it. “Do people make you think it itsn’t? It’s no different to being gay or straight. You’re you and that includes being asexual. Of course it’s ok.” He makes a frustrated noise and shifts his mug to one hand to run the other through his hair. “I’m just… trying to understand what it means for us. Why do you kiss me? I know you don’t want to. So why do it?”

“But I do want to. It makes you happy,” Newt says in a small voice. “I like making you happy. I love you.”

Graves’ frown deepens. “Exactly,” he says, something like bitter triumph in his tone. Newt tries hard not to flinch. “You do things you don’t want to do because it makes people happy. The only reason you don’t kiss Jacob is because he doesn’t ask you to.”

“That’s not -”

“Which means,” Graves continues, agitated enough that he’s started gesturing and his coffee comes dangerously close to spilling, “which means that it’s better for you to spend time with Jacob, because he just wants your friendship. When you spend time with me, I have all these other things I want, and you give them to me even when you’d rather I was just a friend, and if I keep accepting them then I’m -” He cuts himself off sharply and takes a deep breath. Newt watches him in mute horror and tries not to cry, all his denials sticking in his throat.

He doesn’t understand how it went so wrong.

“I’m not being a very good friend,” Graves finishes. He looks defeated. His shoulders slump, and Newt leans forwards and wants, desperately, to hug him, but he’s not sure he’s allowed.

“I don’t want you to be my friend,” he says. “I want you to be my boyfriend. Graves, listen to me. I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“Newt, I can’t,” Graves says. “I’m sorry. I can’t just… stop being attracted to you.”

“I’m not asking you to! Just like I haven’t been asking you not to kiss me, or not to go on dates with me, or - or to break up with me!” He tries to calm himself because Graves is broken and it’s breaking Newt to watch him, but if Graves would just listen -

“If I asked you to have sex with me, would you?”

“Yes!” Newt says, and Graves blanches. He moves the coffee until it’s between them like a shield, shaking his head with his eyes so wide Newt can see the guilt and self recriminations running through his head. He growls, fear turning to hurt turning to anger and crawls across the empty cushion to push the mug aside. “Graves,” he says, then again when Graves tries to back away, “Graves will you let me fucking speak.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Graves says, and Newt restrains himself from snarling that Graves already has.

“Appreciated,” is what he says instead. “I don’t want to hurt you either. I want to make you happy. I want to be with you. I want to be the big spoon. I want to suck your brains out your dick to see the face you make. I want to do a hell of a lot of things to you that I would never dream of doing to anyone else, because I want to, because I love you and it makes me happy when you’re happy. Ok?”

He’s holding Graves’ wrists tight enough by the end that he might be hurting him, and it’s a conscious effort to relax his grip. Graves doesn’t seem to have noticed though, staring at Newt like he’s only just seen him. He’s also blushing. So is Newt. They’ve not progressed beyond kissing yet, he’s not quite sure why he threw in that sentence about the blow job but he is sure that he means it and he isn’t going to take it back.

“But you… don’t… want?” Graves tries.

“I am not sexually attracted to people,” Newt corrects. “I am very attracted to you. Just. Not sexually. If I could give you an orgasm with a full body massage and a gallon of chocolate then I’d want to do those things, because what I want,” and he punctuates that by butting his nose against Graves’, perhaps more aggressively than he meant to, “is to make you happy. With and without orgasms. Because you’re my boyfriend. Who I love. You idiot.”

“Oh,” Graves says, and now the blush has spread to his ears and Newt is feeling surprisingly ok about life again. “Um, we could. Try? The, um, massage, if you like?”

“Yes,” Newt says. “I like back rubs.” He sits back warily. “Are you going to break up with me again?”

“I don’t want to,” Graves admits. “And so long as you don’t want me to either…?”

“I’ll be sure to let you know,” Newt says dryly, and finally retrieves his tea. He takes a gulping mouthful then makes a face and nearly spits it out. “Graves, this is cow milk. Ergh.”

“What? No, I -” Graves buries the rest of his sentence in his coffee and swallows his own mouthful with a pinched expression. “Yuck. Almond. Sorry. I’ll make you a fresh one.”

“I want a biscuit with it!” Newt calls after him as he retreats to the kitchen. “And you have to give me what I want because you’re my boyfriend and you love me!”

Graves scoffs something about not pushing it, Scamander, but Newt recognises that tone of voice and grins in satisfaction. He’ll get a biscuit. He’ll also, as soon as the webpage loads on his phone so he can complete his order, get a bottle of massage oil.

Just, you know. In case he needs it.