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the staff lounge (is where you meet the love of your life)

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There's a perfectly usable photocopy machine in the law faculty.

It's very high speed in which you can make 300 copies of exam scripts in under 5 minutes. The paper is never stuck inside the cartridge because it's new. Plus, the machine is in the middle of the faculty lounge; it's convenient and very time-saving especially for the busy lecturers with tight schedules. The faculty even provides the reams of paper for everyone to use.

Yet, Percival Graves always finds himself hefting his own bulky bundle of paper underneath his armpit and making his way to the shared staff lounge three floors down and sometimes, the lift isn't working so he has to use the stairs. Which is alright, to be honest since he can stay fit and be healthy. Climbing down the stairs is very easy peasy while carrying a heavy bundle of paper because he's a manly man and he can even bench press the photocopy machine if he wants to.

Stop rolling your eyes at me, Credence. I will revoke your TA's Starbucks privilege.


It's not a big deal at all that he always ends up going to the shared staff lounge to use the old and not very fast Xerox because he has all the time in the world to kill and stop hitting me with the students' papers, Barebone. I will get back to them later! Jesus!

As he's saying, Percival has all the time in the world so he doesn't understand why Goldstein the Youngest is making a very big deal about this at all, alright? He's a perfectly patient man!

"Please," Queenie snorts; nearly upending her coffee. "You're the least patient person I've ever encountered."

"Lies and slander," Percival sniffs delicately, placing the hefty weight of the paper on top of the copy machine. It groans quite audibly but stays put.

"You sent 300 emails to the finance department and asked them to allocate a budget to the law faculty to buy a new copy machine because you said and I quote, "I will sue the university for not taking care of their staff's needs and I will sue you so hard, you will have nothing left but your ballsacks."

"First, that's confidential content and as HR, you know perfectly well not to read those emails so you're already liable to be dragged to the court. Second! It's not 300, it's only 128 emails--"

"128 strongly worded emails that I had to read because VC Picquery asked me to intervene before Abernathy threw himself out of the window when he received one more email from you, Professor Graves."

"Well then, kudos to the HR department for looking after the staff. I know you guys are capable of doing it. You just need 128 strongly worded emails to get your ass in gear."

Percival smiles serenely when Queenie glares at him but he doesn't count it as victory when Queenie once again opens her mouth to speak; her eyes wide with glee.

"Then why are you here using the old Xerox instead of using your brand new machine upstairs?"

Percival turns around to face the Xerox, busying himself to pull the cartridge out and placing the bundle inside it before pushing it back again with a loud clunk. "Goldstein the Oldest is using the machine and I don't want to interrupt her because she's doing copies for her class."

"I thought the machine can make copies in under 5 minutes?"

Percival can't see Queenie's expression, but he can hear the smirk in her tone and when he whips around to glare at her, true enough, she is grinning.

"Don't you have a job to do?" Percival asks, his voice almost drown by the loud noise of the machine. "You probably have another 128 emails in your inbox waiting to be read."

"It's lunch break and I rest during my break. Unlike you who is supposed to be in class by now. Teaching."

"Barebone is teaching today. He needs the experience."

"I'm right here eating sandwiches and grading your students' essays," Credence pipes up from the lumpy couch, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he looks at Percival with disdain. Somewhere from his peripheral vision, Queenie is seen laughing at him.

"Class is cancelled for the day and the students are going to visit me during consultation hours," Percival amends firmly, ignoring Queenie's high-pitched giggles.

"You're so hopeless, Prof," Credence mutters, head bows once again as he reads through the essay piles. "Just say you have a crush and go talk to him."

"That doesn't even make any sense at all, Barebone," Percival sputters indignantly, his tone accusing. "There's no correlation at all about your statements. How are you even going to be a lawyer?"

"I think Credence will be a great lawyer."

Percival whips his body around so fast, he almost hits the person standing behind him.

"But I think he's going to be a better teacher to educate the younglings."

Percival snaps his mouth shut, blinks once and opens his mouth to speak. "I don't disagree with that statement, Scamander. But he still needs courtroom experience."

Newt smiles at him and Percival's heart does a somersault in his chest because he is too pretty when he smiles; full lips stretching out widely, his eyes soft as he gazes down-- good god Newt Scamander is tall and Percival has to tilt his head up a bit to look at him because they are standing so close that if he gets on his tiptoes, he can kiss Newt's full lips--


"Are you alright?" Newt asks, forehead creases with concern as Percival shakes his head, wanting to rid of the spell that Newt has put on him. That damn ginger.

"He hasn't had anything to eat yet today," Credence pipes in once again, his attention still on the essays. "He only had coffee this morning."

"No wonder you're looking a bit peakish," Newt chides gently, his big palm settling at the small of Percival's back and his hand is warm and Percival might have leaned into the touch a bit.

"Come on, I'll make you tea."

"We don't have kettle in here," Credence provides helpfully.

"Really? Could have sworn I saw one last week," Newt murmurs, hand still on Percival's back. "That's why I'm here you see. I want tea and I don't have kettle--"

"But we bought you a new kettle last week," Queenie announces quite suddenly that Percival jolts because she's been so quiet. Newt doesn't  seem to be deterred by her presence. He's actually pulling Percival to stand near him even more.

"Must have left it in my car then," Newt smiles; his face going soft once again when he looks at Percival and it effectively blocks out Queenie's voice that declares, "But we installed it to your desk with a lock so no one can steal it."

"How about we go for lunch?" Newt asks, bright smile and clear eyes. So ethereal.

"Lunch?" Percival responds stupidly.

"Yes," Newt confirms, his arm wraps nicely around Percival's waist; his fingers caressing Percival's pristine shirt. He feels so warm this close, it makes Percival stupid. "Unless you don't want to?"

"He wants to," Credence butts in again, rubbing at his eyes tiredly and Percival will eyebrow him to rest later when his brain comes back online again but now, now he's too busy processing the fact that his crush is standing next to him, his arm around Percival's waist and he's asking Percival for lunch.

"The machine--"

"I'll take care of it, Prof. Graves," Credence groans lowly. "Please go and have lunch with Dr. Scamander and put all of us out of this unresolved sexual tension. I beg you."

Percival doesn't even have the chance to open his mouth to threaten Credence about revoking his privileges because Newt is already moving and Percival is moving with him because Newt still has his arm around Percival's waist, only now he is pulling away and Percival is this close to whining but then Newt's hand comes back; the back of it bumping against Percival's hand before he hooks his pinkie around Percival's and they are holding hands now and it's nice. Very nice. Especially nice when Newt is looking at him, gazing at his face with a fond expression and Percival feels his mouth stretches into a small smile; something shy and he should be mortified by this but he is hopeless when it comes to controlling himself around Newt anyway so he lets go and lets himself enjoy this moment.

But he mentally makes a quick note to send finance another email; demanding for them to raise his TA's paycheck. And if he needs to send another 128 emails just for them to give a raise to Credence's wages then so be it because Credence is his TA and he should enjoy all the privileges after all.