Chapter Text
“Ready?” Mr. Graves asked.
Credence looked up from where the make-up artists were working on his chest. Credence hated having a bare chest on the run way. His mother had left some nasty scars on his body. People tended to not look at his palms. And if he thought they might he would wear gloves. But his chest and back were different. In pictures there was photoshop. On the runway there wasn’t.
Credence actually didn’t mind so much if people saw. He’d survived someone who hurt him very much because she suspected he might be attracted to men, and because she suspected that he didn’t really want to be a boy all the time. Mr. Graves assured Credence that liking men was good. But whenever Credence tried to dress less than masculine, Mr. Graves would give Credence a disapproving look.
He’d even slapped him once for it.
But really, Credence deserved it. He’d tried to wear a pink blouse to a media event. That would tarnish the Graves House Fashion image. Credence needed to think of himself as an icon, not as a person. And when he was one on one and alone with Mr. Graves, Credence’s clothes didn’t normally stay on too long.
Mr. Graves knew best. Credence hated the scars on his hands because he couldn’t escape them. But the ones of his chest he wished he could show of as a badge of courage. But Mr. Graves said that was a silly way to think. Scars were signs of weaknesses. The strong face of a fashion house couldn’t be seen as being weak like that.
And that was part of the current line. It was military inspired. Credence would be in a military band like jacket which was all black. His pale skin made the black stand out more. Mr. Graves liked him in black. Credence preferred colors. But Mr. Graves was the designer, so he understood these things better.
Like the haircut.
Credence hated looking at himself in the mirror now. All he could see was the boy he’d been in his mother’s house, with that awful bowl cut. Mr. Graves said that it looked militaristic. Credence thought he looked horrible, and he thought maybe Mr. Graves was punishing him or something. But he barely acknowledged those feelings. It wouldn’t do to question Mr. Graves.
He saw what that got them when he did.
Newt Scamander’s brand had gotten a boost off the back of the Graves House Fashion image when he turned down Mr. Graves like that. The reporter had reported it, because it was a story.
People were, according to Mr. Graves, only ever out to promote themselves. And that’s what Newt Scamander had done. He’d gotten promoted and Mr. Graves had been humiliated. More so because Credence was the one who recommended Newt.
Credence would be paying off that mistake for quite a while.
“Always, Mr. Graves,” Credence said.
“Good boy,” Mr. Graves said. He moved away from Credence, checking on the other models. Credence followed Mr. Graves with his eyes.
Show days were always chaotic, but they had an odd sort of routine. Models would be up early. They’d go into hair and make-up, and then they would get their clothes on. Sometimes someone would change what they would wear half way in. Mr. Graves was fairly meticulous, but even as prepared as he always was, things happened. Things changed. They always changed. It never went quite the way you expected.
Credence had learned very quickly that the best thing he could do to help was do what he was told and then do his best to be the best model he could. He was good at both of those things. And things always changed.
Normally he closed the show, but this time he was setting the show. His look and walk would set the tone for the show. It made him excited and nervous. It wasn’t what he was used to. But the final piece was such a big piece of construction that Credence was very glad he didn’t have to wear it. He didn’t want to be weighed down physically when he felt that way emotionally.
But still, the sudden change was jarring for Credence.
When the makeup artists released him, someone helped him get back into his jacket and get ready in line. Credence felt his normal fear start to twist in his stomach. He always got stage fright. But as soon as the music started and he started down the run way, he was always fine.
Mr. Graves introduced the collection this year. He didn’t always, but he did this time. One year when the show was over, Mr. Graves had slung his arm over Credence’s shoulders as they did the final walk. Credence had been the happiest he’d ever been in his life.
That seemed like a long time ago now.
Still, Mr. Graves winked at him once he walked back stage after his introduction. Credence didn’t have time to dwell on it. The music started. He put on a blank, slightly angry face, kept his head held high and began walking.
This part went quickly. He walked to the end, struck a pose and then walked back down the runway. He went back stage and lined up for the final walk. The walking was more fun than the waiting. Those seconds on the run way were everything. Even doing the final walk was fun, even though it was also bitter sweet because everything they’d put into this year’s collection was over now. Now it was all spin and nothing Credence could do except talk to people.
Mr. Graves slung his arm over someone else. Credence got to see this once he was backstage. At one point he might have burned with jealousy. Now he just felt a little relieved. A part of him wondered if Mr. Graves would replace him. Another part of him said ‘good’.
That shocked him a bit, but he didn’t have time to think about it. He was manhandled out to the after party. Mr. Graves insisted on these. People got a chance to see clothes, but only industry insiders. The models were watched so they wouldn’t leave the designated area. They didn’t want their designs stolen, but they wanted people who wanted to buy from Graves House Fashion a chance to see what they were buying.
Credence hated this. He wasn’t good at being social. And it seemed like as soon as he policed back to the after party that there were already people there wanting to talk to him. A lot of them were reporters. After about the seventh time someone asked him why he’d been moved from being the finale model and Credence having to repeat what an honor it was to set the tone for the collection, Credence felt like he couldn’t breathe.
“Excuse me,” he muttered. He tried to turn around and get away, only to run into someone with a glass of Champaign.
He heard the man say he was sorry and start to try and wipe Credence’s chest clean with a napkin. When Credence saw light brown on the white napkin, Credence bolted. The makeup had come off.
He ducked into the bathroom and shut the door. He took a breath or too, trying to calm his galloping heart. Then he went to look at himself in the mirror. He was still damp and sticky. He’d have to clean that off, but his scars were showing already. Even in the low lights of the after party, people would still notice.
Mr. Graves was still so angry at him from his mistake a month ago. If his scars to all these people, Mr. Graves would be furious. He might never forgive Credence for ruining the face of his brand.
Credence felt hot pressure behind his eyes. He blinked rapidly so he wouldn’t cry. The only thing worse than showing his scars would be to ruin the make up around his face. He couldn’t come out looking like a mess. And he couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever. He didn’t know what to do.
“Credence?”
Credence knew that voice. He didn’t even have to whip his head around to know who the soft, accented voice belonged to.
“I didn’t know you’d me here, Mr. Scamander,” Credence said. He kept his eye focused down on the sink.
“Serphina’s in talks to be in a model for the next line. She didn’t want to come without me,” Newt said. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Credence said weakly. He listened to Newt’s shoes tap against the tile as he walked closer. Credence looked to his left to see Newt standing in front of one of the other sinks, but not too near to Credence.
“I’m not really good with people either,” Newt said.
Credence let out a short, bitter laugh. “I wish that was the problem.”
“Then what is the problem?” Newt asked. His tone was so soft and gentle. Honestly, Credence was having a hard time caring about anyone knowing about his scars anymore.
Credence turned so Newt could see his chest. “Mr. Graves will be angry if I walk out with these showing,” he said.
Newt frowned. He leaned in a little closer to inspect the exposed and half exposed scars on Credence’s chest. “Do you not want people to see?”
“I don’t care, really,” Credence said. “But I’m still the face of Graves House Fashion. It won’t be good for the label’s image if I’m seen like this.”
“I see,” Newt said. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Tina should have concealer that’s close. And if she doesn’t, I’m certain Queenie can steal a little. Do you mind if I ask them for help?”
“No,” Credence said. A relief settled into his chest. He wouldn’t be trapped in his bathroom forever. He carefully took off his jacket and hung it on one of the wall hooks and then returned to the sink. He began to wash the Champaign from his chest, taking most of the make-up off with it.
“Is there anything on the jacket?” Newt asked
“It doesn’t matter,” Credence said. “It’s black. It won’t show. And everything gets dry cleaned later anyway.”
“Okay,” Newt said. “Credence, can I ask an awkward question?”
“I’m pretty sure this entire situation is too awkward for any question to not be awkward,” Credence said. He was trying to make a joke to not give away the way his heart flipped over with fear. He didn’t want to talk about how he got his scars.
Newt made a face and looked down at the floor. Credence felt a little relieved only because no matter what question Newt asked, he wouldn’t be able to see Credence’s expression.
“Would you mind getting photographed where your scars show?” Newt asked.
Well, yes that was sort of an awkward question, but not the kind of awkward Credence minded.
“No. I really wish for once Mr. Graves wouldn’t have them photoshop it all out,” Credence admitted.
“Because… well, I think that you have a great body, and that you’d look really good modeling… well-” Newt cut himself off. He was blushing. Credence found that endearing. “I want to do a male line of lingerie, and I really think you’d be good for it. I apologize if you’re not interested. I know some men get insulted when I ask them to model feminine things. But you’d be perfect for my next line.”
Credence knew his mouth was hanging open. Everything about what Newt was offering made Credence’s spirit sing. The only thing he didn’t like was when Newt called him a man. That made something in Credence’s chest twist uncomfortably. But otherwise, it was the kind of job Credence had always wished he could do once he started modeling.
“Are you offering me a job, Mr. Scamander?” Credence asked. He tried to keep his voice level and not sound too desperate with once.
“Yes, I am,” Newt said. He looked up and at Credence. Credence could tell Newt was looking at his hair line, and not in Credence’s eyes. But Credence preferred it that way.
“I’m not certain that Mr. Graves will like it,” Credence said. “He’s so protective of his company image.”
Newt’s face fell. “How long until you’re contract’s over?”
“Oh,” Credence said. “It’s… I haven’t signed the new one yet.”
“Oh, well then,” Newt said. He looked less unhappy anyway. “I suppose my offer still stands. I can’t pay as well as Percival Graves, but I can pay. And you wouldn’t be exclusive to me. You couldn’t schedule work that interferes, but I’m not very demanding. You can ask the other models who work with me.”
“I…” Credence trailed off. He’d always bee exclusive to Mr. Graves. Completely. Mr. Graves had saved his life, and so he owned it. Credence even lived in a room in Mr. Graves apartment. Mr. Graves didn’t always live there, but Credence always did.
“Think about it,” Newt said.
There was a knock on the bathroom door before someone pushed it open. Credence recognized the woman as one of Newt’s models.
“Oh, Tina, did you find what we were looking for?” Newt asked.
“Queenie bribed a make-up artist to get Credence’s exact shade,” Tina said. She walked inside and then used one of the chairs in the bathroom to block the entrance. “Honestly, Newt, if you didn’t want anyone to see you should take more care.”
“You’re right,” Newt said. “Sorry, Credence, I wasn’t thinking.”
“Me either,” Credence said.
Tina walked over to Credence, eying his chest. “Do you mind if I touch you?” she asked.
“No,” Credence said. He moved his arms out of the way so she’d have access. She started to spread thee concealer on his body and then smudge it with her fingers.
“I asked Credence to come work with us,” Newt said.
“Really?” Tina brightened. “It’s been Newt’s dream for years to do a male like. He really wants to get Queenie’s husband to work with him too.”
“Jacob’s nervous,” Newt said. “I’d have an easier time of it if I had someone else on board as well.”
“Well, Queenie likes the idea,” Tina said.
“I know she is,” Newt said, smiling a little. He was watching Tina work, but Credence was watching Newt.
“Do you have other models in mind?” Credence asked.
“Not exactly,” Newt said. “I mainly deal with women. Seraphina has a couple of suggestions, but I’m trying to find a bunch of different body types. Lingerie is supposed to make people feel good about themselves when they wear it. If I only have male models who look like movie stars, then men will be more nervous about it.”
“You’d be in the movie star model,” Tina said. Credence looked down at her in time to catch her wink. Credence blushed.
“Yes, well,” Credence said. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“You should come down to Newt’s farm,” Tina said.
“You have a farm?” Credence asked.
“Yes,” Newt said. His eyes lit up suddenly. “I love animals. I have an animal sanctuary. It’s cows and chickens, but also rarer animals like ostriches, emus. I have cats, dogs, raccoons, squirrels. I have a bear on property right now. I’ve worked with larger animals, so sometimes I’ll care for animals who have been abused until they’re safe to take to a zoo or to be released. The brown bear I have has actually bonded with one of my mules. Oh! And bees! I also keep bees.”
Newt was smiling before he finished talking. Credence had never thought of one man caring for so many creatures.
“Wow, I’d love to see it,” Credence said.
“Then schedule a weekend and come down,” Tina said. “It’s upstate. You probably take a vacation once Fashion Week is over, right?”
“Always,” Credence said. Although he normally stayed home. Mr. Graves was going to Hawaii. Credence hadn’t been invited. Credence could be gone that entire week and Mr. Graves would never even notice.
“Then why don’t you come down then?” Tina advised.
“Mr. Scamander, would I be too much of an imposition?” Credence asked.
“No, of course not. It’s always nice having company,” Newt said.
“Oh… well, I still have things to do the week after Fashion Week. But I’m free the week after that. Can I come then?” Credence asked. He felt like his own voice sounded shy.
“Of course you can come,” Newt said. He was smiling still, but it was a softer smile. “I’d be happy to have you.”
“Alright. Then I’ll be there,” Credence said. He was smiling too. Just a little.
Tina finished helping him with his chest. He gave them his cell phone number so they could next him the address later. Then all three of them left the bathroom. Credence mingled back with the crowd. His was polite, but not too engaged. He was going to have a real, actual vacation. Time with animals and away from the city. He was excited.
Even Mr. Graves disapproving look couldn’t and harsh words about the Champaign covered jacket couldn’t break into Credence’s happy bubble. A real vacation. Credence couldn’t wait.
Newt spent all of Fashion Week being busy. He had his show and then stayed in New York in the office to get some work done. He had orders to fill and interviews to do. Queenie and Tina stuck around to help. Tina took Newt to a broadway show, which Newt enjoyed because people left them alone during the show. He got a lot done, but he was so happy to drive home with Queenie.
Queenie dropped him off and picked up her husband. Jacob at least waved before he got in the car. Newt knew how much they missed each other. They would go home and make up for lost time. And Newt was about to be busy as well.
He spent a day checking up on his animals, but by the evening he’d tended to and snuggled everyone. Then he started cleaning his home. It was one thing when his friends came over, or even Seraphina. But Credence didn’t really know Newt. Newt was excited to have him over, but he didn’t want Credence to see how messy his place normally was.
Newt struggled to clean up in a way that didn’t give him anxiety. Newt’s house was a mess in a certain order were Newt where everything was. And sometimes order could be very stressful for Newt. He had to call up Jacob and Queenie to come help him. He would admit he was in a bit of a panic about it all.
Jacob got him a cup of coco and sat him down in the kitchen while Queenie made a plan for them. Queenie was so good at reading people that she was able to put together a plan that got Newt’s thing organized in a way that Newt felt comfortable with. She did odd groupings that Newt liked, and she made certain that any decorations weren’t too neat, and that some things were still on the counters and table tops. Newt felt like he could breathe again once they finished.
Newt was able to relax for a day or two after.
Then Credence arrived.
An Uber driver arrived with Credence. Credence had only one bag. He thanked the man politely and pulled out his phone. Newt spied him leaving a good review and a nice tip on his phone. Then he looked up at Newt and offered a nervous half smile.
“Hello Mr. Scamander,” Credence said.
“I’d prefer if you call me Newt,” Newt said. “Please come in. I have cookies baking.”
“Cookies,” Credence said wistfully. “Your property is beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Newt said. “It’s much bigger than what I had when I was in England.”
“Did you have a farm there too?” Credence asked. He followed Newt inside the house. The house was a three story farm house with a two story addition. It was white on the outside and rustic on the inside. Nearby were a number of red barns. The land was expansive and divided by animal. Newt liked giving his creatures as much room to move around as they wanted.
“Something like that,” Newt said. “It was horrible getting permits to bring all of my animals with me.” It had been a nightmare. Only his brother intervening got it done. He was grateful that his brother had done that for him. Although Newt rather thought it was just to get him out of the country.
“I can’t imagine,” Credence said.
Newt led Credence inside. Really, the house was much too big for just Newt to be living there. There were four bedrooms and a mind boggling seven bathrooms. Although that worked well for Newt, since he could clean himself and any house sized animal up without tracking mud through the house. The inside had a mixed rustic/colonial feel. The only thing Newt really liked about the house were the wood floors, which were a light wood and had all the detail with the grain and knots showing vividly. Newt worked to make certain he didn’t damage his floors.
Other than that, the best thing about his farm were the animals and the closeness to his friends.
“This place is amazing,” Credence said. Newt hadn’t been paying attention to him, instead thinking about getting him upstairs to the guest room. But the tone in Credence’s voice made Newt turn around. The look on Credence’s face was pure wonder.
“You like it?” Newt asked.
“It’s like a place out of an old movie,” Credence said. He was looking at the china on a built in shelf in the kitchen. Newt had brought some of his mother’s old china from England, and bought a few himself. The display didn’t match and had no rhyme or reason except that Newt like things with delicate flower patterns. He’d rearranged the display when they were cleaning up. Newt really liked the new set, even though he knew his brother would say it made him look like an old lady.
“Yes, well,” Newt said. “It mostly came this way. I just try not to let it get too bad.”
“I’d love to live in a place like this,” Credence said.
“What’s your home like?” Newt asked curiously.
“Modern,” Credence said, wrinkling his nose.
Newt laughed. “I understand. I don’t like modern design. It feels untouchable.”
“Yes, it’s like living in a museum,” Credence agreed. He ran a hand over the table, which Newt had been told was made of the same type of wood as the floor. Credence looked wistful.
“Why don’t you move?” Newt asked.
“Well, I’ve never thought of it before,” Credence said. “I moved in with Mr. Graves as soon as I left my mother’s house. I’ve never considered house hunting before.”
“You probably should get your own place,” Newt said. “Are you looking for an apartment in the city? Tina could probably help you.”
“I don’t know. I’ve always thought about not living in the city. Which would be bad for my business, being so far away. But I’d want to live somewhere like here,” Credence said.
“Let me show you the guest room,” Newt said. He guided Credence to the stairs. “You know, Queenie lives out here, and it doesn’t affect her career.”
“She’s also married,” Credence pointed out.
They headed up the stairs. One of the guest rooms belonged to Tina. It was the one furthest away from Newt’s room, but it had the most windows. The other guests room were kept neat, but weren’t as personalized. Queenie had helped Newt air out one of the rooms. It was decorated with flowers and reminded Newt a little of a meadow. It was his favorite room that wasn’t his.
“And here’s your room,” Newt said.
“Wow, this is wonderful,” Credence said.
“You unpack. I’m going to get the biscuits out of the oven.”
“I thought you said you were baking cookies,” Credence said.
Newt felt a little embarrassed. “The Goldstein sisters have abused me into calling biscuits cookies… mostly.”
“Oh,” Credence said. “Well, I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
“Take your time,” Newt said. He left and headed back to the kitchen. He pulled his backing out of the oven. It was the last batch. He set them out to cool and turned off the oven. The kitchen smelled like vanilla, which Newt always liked.
He put on a kettle to make tea and contemplated which animals he should introduce Credence to first. Not the bees. For all Newt knew, Credence was allergic to bees. Actually, Credence could be allergic to any of the animals and Newt didn’t know.
“Credence,” Newt said when he heard Credence’s footsteps. “Are you allergic to anything?”
“Not that I know of,” Credence said. He walked into the kitchen and started sniffing the air. “That smells amazing.”
“I’m good at baking,” Newt said. “And I find it soothing. If you do the right thing, you get the right result. Sometimes I bake after a hard day with the animals, or with work… people can be the worst.”
“Agreed,” Credence said. He took a seat at the kitchen table. “Can I have a cookie?”
“Yes. I’m making tea, would you like some?” Newt asked.
“Please,” Credence said.
“Alright, give me a moment.” Newt got out one of his china tea pots. He made a pot of tea and got out a nice plate to put the biscuits one. He set the table for them while Credence waited patiently. Newt noted the way Credence’s eyes tracked him. But Newt didn’t meet his gaze. To do so made Newt’s lungs feel like they couldn’t get enough air. He wasn’t in the mood to feel that way, and Credence didn’t seem like he cared for eye contact either.
“I wondered why you didn’t live in the city,” Credence said as Newt set the tray with the tea pot on the table. “But I understand now.”
“I’m not very good with people. The city has a lot of people. Out here, if I don’t like someone I generally don’t have to deal with them. That’s soothing.”
“It sounds amazing,” Credence said reverently.
“It is,” Newt admitted. “We’ll have to go into town to the bakery. Queenie and her husband Jacob own it. They make wonderful lunches and we can get a loaf of bread.”
“Is her husband nice?”
Newt smiled a little. “Jacob is my best friend. And he’s the first person I met in New York. He just wants to make delicious things that make people happy. He’s a kind, inventive baker. And he adores Queenie completely. I couldn’t think of a better match of people.”
“That sounds nice,” Credence said.
Newt began to pour him a cup of tea. He pushed the plate of biscuits where both of them could reach. “You’ll understand when you meet them.”
“Newt,” Credence said hurriedly. “When you offered me a job… what made you think I would be good at this?”
“Well,” Newt started. “You’re a professional. And you don’t really look like everyone else. Especially with the scars. I know men will look at you and feel braver to try lingerie. They’ll feel like maybe it’s something that’d okay.”
“Yes, but… what about me made you think… that I would want to?” Credence asked. He looked very uncomfortable. He was looking down into his tea like it had all the answers.
“I feel like there’s something you want to know, specifically, that isn’t what you’re actually asking me,” Newt said carefully. “You can ask. I won’t get mad.”
“Do you think I look like a woman?” Credence demanded. He wasn’t looking up from his tea. Newt had a feeling that wasn’t really what Credence wanted to know.
“What’s wrong if I did think that?” Newt asked.
Credence shuddered. “I… Mr. Graves thinks men should look like men. Dress like it.”
“Well, Mr. Graves is wrong,” Newt said, trying to sound firm, but not angry. He didn’t like Graves, especially where it came to Credence. Credence seemed like something important in his hand been ground into the dirt under Graves’ heel.
“Is he?” Credence asked. “Most people think that way.”
“First of all, when most people think something it’s often wrong. Second is that I don’t care what most people think. We’ve already established that we aren’t good with people. So why care about what they think of us. The only question is what you want. Do you want to model for me?”
Credence didn’t answer. But Newt wasn’t going to talk first. He dipped his biscuit into his tea and took a bite. He was patient enough to wait out an answer. This was too important to let his mouth go off. Credence needed to decide for himself.
“I’m not certain,” Credence said.
“That’s fine. You don’t have to decide right now,” Newt said. He used his soothing voice, the one he used to calm his animals. “Credence, do you even want to wear lingerie?”
“I’m not supposed to,” Credence mumbled. He still hadn’t looking up from his tea.
“Forget about supposed to. What do you want?” Newt asked
“I want to,” Credence said.
“Okay, good,” Newt said. He was relieved that he hadn’t read Credence completely wrong. “How about I make you something? Even if you don’t work with me, you can still have it. And you won’t have to go through the trouble of buying something. And it will be custom fitted to you.”
“Oh, Mr. Scamander, I don’t think I can do that,” Credence said quickly. He looked up from his tea. There was longing on his face and hesitance.
“Call me Newt,” he reminded. “And it’s a gift. From a friend.”
“Are… are we friends?” Credence whispered.
“We could be,” Newt whispered. “I would like to try anyway. Will you allow me to?”
“Yes,” Credence said.
“Alright then. When you finish your tea we’ll get to work,” Newt said.
“Work?” Credence asked. He looked a bit dazed.
“Making your lingerie,” Newt said. He was smiling again. Credence was a beautiful subject to work. And he looked nice when he blushed like he was doing now. Newt really hoped that Credence would work with him. And he if he didn’t, it would be fine. Newt would get at least one chance to design for him. That would be a great pleasure for Newt.
He knew the feeling of when he was getting inspired. His mind was running extra fast, and he couldn’t keep his knee still. He had a stock of materials in his home. He’d get to see which ones worked best against Credence’s fair, fair skin. This feeling could push Newt through enough sketches and designs to make an entire new collection. He never felt this energized right after Fashion Week. And yet here Newt was, already nearly giddy just with the idea of a possible new model and the creation of only one piece.
Yes, this would be a great pleasure for Newt.