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the care of magical octopi

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Credence was mucking out the Erumpent stable again.

He had stripped down to his undershirt and trousers, but sweat still plastered his shirt to his back and turned his hair into unruly damp curls. He didn’t mind mucking out the stables, but he wished Newt was still here. Newt had excused himself, bizarrely flushed, as if he was the one doing hard labor and not Credence.

“At least you’re here,” he muttered gloomily to the bright red octopus writhing in a floating terrarium of water. It poked out a tentacle in greeting and resumed its writhing.

The animals in Newt’s magical case all loved Newt with simple, pure adoration. They didn’t extend the same easy affection to Credence, but instead treated him with a begrudging respect. After the first disastrous meeting with the niffler, Credence had learned that magical animals were intelligent enough to understand muttered comments about stupid hoarding tendencies and lost buttons.

Sweat dripped into his eyes, and Credence collapsed onto a bench of rough-hewn wood. Not for the first time, he wished that the Erumpent came from somewhere cooler than the African savannah. Newt had hurried away rather abruptly, muttering about not feeling quite well, and Credence figured Newt wouldn’t return for a while yet. There was only the stifling magical heat, a half-mucked stall, and the octopus that had joined him shortly after Newt left.

After a few nervous glances at the firmly shut door of Newt’s cabin, Credence stripped off his shirt and sighed in relief.

The octopus froze.

Credence slowly raised his shirt to cover his bare chest, because the last thing he wanted to do was to offend the sensibilities of any of the animals. He belatedly remembered Jacob’s rather hilarious anecdote about the Erumpent and the chase through Central Park.

With a pop, the octopus burst out of its bubble and transformed into a red-cheeked, half-naked Newt Scamander. Involuntarily, Credence took in Newt’s state of dishabille, from the unbuttoned shirt revealing a freckled chest to his half-opened trousers revealing—

Credence blushed, feeling a wave of heat extend all the way up to the tip of his ears and down to his navel.

“Um,” Newt said, scrambling to put his clothing back to rights. “I can explain.”

“You were just an octopus,” Credence said inanely. He suspected that he ought to be mad about the spying, but Newt was also an octopus. Did all wizards turn into octopi? Why couldn’t Credence turn into one? Was something wrong with him?

“I’m an animagi. That is, I can transform into my animal form. Um. It’s part of transfiguration, but we won’t get to that until your upper level books arrive.” Newt was babbling, and Credence watched with fascination as Newt gestured widely, causing his shirt to gape open.  For all Newt liked to keep himself buttoned up in his coat and cravat and waistcoat, he was all lean muscles and kinetic energy once the layers were stripped away.

The puckered white skin of three scars disappeared into the depths of Newt’s shirt. Credence wanted to trace them with his fingers and tongue to see if they tasted like the delicate cream of Newt’s complexion.

“—here let me demonstrate!” Newt was saying rather manically, his cheeks still crimson. Then, with another pop, all that lovely exposed skin was gone and the red octopus was baking in the charmed heat of the Erumpent enclosure.

The dust was sticking to the octopus’s damp skin, and Credence ran over in distress. He picked up the octopus, which wrapped long limbs around Credence’s bare torso. The octopus was deliciously cool, and Credence automatically started stroking of its limbs as he strode briskly back into the safety of Newt’s medicinal cabin.

The octopus, Newt, shifted with each step, and Credence was hyper-aware of each tentacle attached to his chest and back with what felt like a thousand tiny sucking mouths. Credence wished that he had managed to pull on his shirt before Newt transformed because he was going to have an embarrassing physical reaction very soon. It was just so nice to be touched by Newt in any capacity, even if the only way Newt could bear to touch him was in animal form.

Once Credence cleared the doorway, Newt transfigured back with another pop, and Credence fell backwards in a tangle of limbs. Then, he realized where his hand was stroking. His hand was wrapped around Newt’s—around Newt’s cock. Credence was stroking Newt’s cock.

Newt whimpered and buried his face into Credence’s neck. Experimentally, Credence gave a tug, and was immediately gratified with another one of Newt’s whimpers. 

“Oh,” Credence said. Buried under the warmth of Newt’s weight, he could feel himself getting hard too. He had been so sure that Newt didn’t think of him that way. At even the slightest hint of impropriety, when Credence so much as removed his jacket or if Newt let himself drift too close, Newt would back away, stammering excuses and apologies.

Credence understood. Inversion didn’t seem to be quite as hated in the magical community, but Newt came from a good family, who must’ve expected their second son to marry well to a wealthy pureblood witch that could give them grandchildren.

“I can—” Newt’s voice broke into a groan as Credence gave another pull with his hand. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want.”

“I want to,” Credence whispered back. He didn’t tense up or let himself doubt that Newt didn’t want this; he had the evidence of exactly how much Newt wanted this, wanted him, grasped firmly in his right hand. He knew that if he betrayed even the slightest shred of unease, Newt would be halfway across the room and back beneath three stifling layers of wool.

Newt pushed himself up onto his forearms, and Credence gasped as the motion shifted Newt’s thigh against his cock.

“Are you sure, Credence?” Newt’s pupils were blown, and his breath kept hitching into half-moans with every stroke of Credence’s hand. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything.”

Abruptly, Credence had enough. He knew that Mary Lou’s treatment had left deep mental scars, that he would never be able to remove his belt without flinching, that Newt had found and rescued him from the greater magical community in New York City. But he wasn’t a child, and his decisions were his to make.

With the strength born from weeks of the physical labor needed by a hundred-odd magical beasts, Credence flipped them so that he was the one braced above Newt.

At Newt’s gasp of surprise, Credence grinned, suddenly filled with swooping excitement. “I’m sure.”

Newt took that as both permission and a challenge, because he fumbled open Credence’s trousers and wrapped his clever, callused fingers around Credence’s rapidly hardening cock. “You don’t know how long I wanted to do this. You tease, dripping sweat and letting your shirt cling to you like that.”

Biting off a moan at a particularly clever twist of Credence’s fingers, Newt gave a full-body shiver, and then, with a pop, Credence was entangled in the eight limbs of the octopus. Credence moaned in shock as a tentacle wrapped around his cock. It felt like hundreds of mouths applying suction over the entire surface of his cock. Another pop, and then his hips jerked involuntarily into the warm clench of Newt’s fingers.

Impossibly, Newt looked even more flushed than before, stammering out, “I’m sorry, I don’t know how that happened, I transform when I’m flustered, I’m so sorry Credence.”

“I liked it, Newt,” Credence said, and he couldn’t believe he said that out loud, Newt was going think him the worst sort of freak and then refuse to have sex with Credence ever again.

Newt’s eyes turned saucer-round, but an instant later, Credence had an armful of octopus.  He moaned again as the tentacle around his cock tightened. Newt trailed four limbs up Credence’s back while two more wrapped themselves around his thighs.

The last limb trailed slickly around his balls before circling at the puckered hole of his entrance. 

“Yes, please yes, oh god,” Credence gasped. With one smooth slide, Newt’s tentacle pushed inside, and Credence moaned at the sudden feeling of fullness. The tip of Newt’s tentacle flexed while still inside Credence, causing his hips to cant downward, to press that fabulous wriggling tentacle deeper against his prostate.

One of Newt’s tentacles moved upwards to curl loosely around Credence’s neck. Credence felt thoroughly ensnared within Newt’s tentacles, he felt wholly owned by Newt.

Newt gave another twist with his tentacle, and Credence orgasmed with a shout.

Then, he screamed again as one of Newt’s tentacles detached from the rest of the octopus.

Immediately, Newt transformed back, frantically trying to examine every inch of Credence’s body. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

Silently, Credence lifted up Newt’s tentacle.

“Oh that,” Newt said dismissively. “Don’t worry, my cock will grow back in the morning.”

*

The next morning, Newt demonstrated exactly how well his cock grew back.

Several hours later, Queenie gave one horrified look at Credence’s blissful expression and the even row of dark-purple suck-marks lining his neck and promptly dropped the teapot in her hands.

“No,” she said. “You absolutely may not tell me about it.”