Work Text:
Jacob, surrounded by a mass of other workers at the canning factory, dully ambled down the alleyway to the factory, all preparing for hours and hours of boring, disheartening work; in some of the men's eyes, you could already see the soullessness that accompanied the occupation. The sky was grey and dreary, a well matched aesthetic to Jacob's mood. Not only had his dream been denied by the bank, but he had to return to the only work he could manage- which, to him, seemed like fate just playing cruel tricks on him.
Lost in the thoughts he didn't have, Jacob suddenly reeled, caught off balance when something- or somebody- had abruptly shoved passed him, knocking into him as a result, and causing Jacob to drop his briefcase.
"Hey!" Jacob snapped, turning in the direction the blue had gone. "Watch where ya'going!"
In front of him stood a man, back turned towards him. All he could see was his blue jacket and mess of auburn hair. He was slightly leaned over, stopped mid-walk, with his arm outstretched as if to pick up one of two briefcases that laid on the ground- the one that Jacob knew to be his, too.
"Look, fella," Jacob took a step towards the man and snatched his own briefcase from the ground. "I don't know what you're trying to pull on me here, but if you'll excuse me, I have actual work to attend to." He started to continue on his way when he heard a voice break the silence.
"I, um-"
At this point, Jacob was the only worker to not have gotten to the canning factory, and it was more than likely he'd receive some sort of punishment as a result. He turned back and looked at the stranger, who was now facing toward and looking at him, his hands shyly folded over each other. His hair was messy, with wavy bangs swooping to one side, freckles dusted across his face, and- even Jacob had to admit it- great cheekbones. Jacob raised an eyebrow. "Do you need something or what?"
The man gave him a half smile, half grimace, and nodded his head, ducking it down slightly. "Well- Well originally I was originally just going to switch the cases, but it would seem I got a little bit caught up in my own emotions, wouldn't it?"
Genuinely confused, Jacob took a step towards the man, furrowing his eyebrows. "Switch the- what're you talking about, Mister-"
"Scamander," the man interrupted. "Newt Scamander."
"Okay," Jacob continued, still not making any sense of what was happening. "Look-"
"Here, here," Newt cut him off, hurriedly closing the space between and bringing the case up in a way so it could be opened. "Open it. It is for you, after all, Jacob."
Jacob gave him a startled glance. "I- Mr. Scamander, how, uh, how do you know my name?"
"Oh," Newt smiled a sad smile. "Call me Newt." His voice was hushed and held a certain importance in it.
Jacob looked at Newt curiously before slowly moving his hands up to snap open the case, lifting the cover to see what appeared to be bright, metallic eggshells. "What are-"
"Occamy eggs," Newt answered, without letting the question be asked. "They're made of silver. I want you to have them, and to use them so that you can get the loan for your bakery." He seemed to be searching Jacob's eyes for something. "So you can live out your dream, and your own fantastic life."
Jacob's eyes widened, a smile forming in the corners of his mouth as a fluttering feeling crept into his chest. Not a moment passed before he had shut it down and taken a step back. He pressed his fingers against his temple- he was getting a slight headache, and, for some reason, one spot on his neck was incredibly sore. "Mr. Scamander- I don't know who you are, or how you know who I am, or how you got these- these whatever eggs, or how you know I want to open a bakery, or how you know I didn't have the collateral-" He stopped in his tracks when he made eye contact again with Newt, who's eye had fallen from being bright and hopeful-looking to shadowy and upset. "Mister Scamander?"
Newt bit his lip, staring at Jacob for a moment before slamming the briefcase shut and locking it, and kneeling on the ground to turn his attention to his own briefcase. "I do hope you don't mind being late for work," Newt mumbled as he opened the case, "Now, if you would, just follow me." And- to Jacob's amazement- stepped inside. And downwards. And disappeared into the case. Jacob took a small step back, a million thoughts recoiling and tossing and turning in his head, so fast that he could barely grasp any one of them, let alone dwell on them. But he complied, cautiously stepping one foot into the case, and then the other, and carefully stepping downwards- getting stuck for a moment, to his own annoyance.
At the bottom of the case's steps was a small shed, lined with cabinets and shelves that were overfilling with varying vials, books, and strange bottles and materials. Newt stood before Jacob, a timid grin on his face, before he opened the door, revealing to Jacob the greatest sight he had ever seen; an entire world, filled with animals- no, beasts- as they walked, crawled, and flew by. Filled with awe, Jacob filed passed Newt, taking in the sight of this strange world.
And then he began to remember.
He remembered meeting Newt that day he had gone to the bank to ask for the loan, and witnessing the tiny Occamy emerge from its shell, and transporting from inside the bank to outside with Newt. He remembered Newt's creatures spilling from his case and wreaking havoc on his apartment. But, as a certain warmth settled over his chest and a genuine smile grew on his lips, Jacob recalled the fondness that he had harbored for Newt, and a peculiar wanting and longing settled within him. Wanting not only to have been returned to this world of magic and wonder, but also of Newt himself.
Laughing from joy, Jacob turned to face Newt, who's face seemed to be housing just as much happiness as Jacob felt. "Newt," he said with a gentle tone, his throats going slightly dry. "How did you- I'm not even supposed to know-"
"Hush," Newt silenced him, stepping towards Jacob until there was not much room between them. "If you weren't supposed to know, it wouldn't have happened." He rubbed Jacob's arms reassuringly. "I, um, wouldn't have grown such- such affections for you."
Jacob smiled, reaching up and running his thumb on Newt's jaw before gently pulling the taller man into a kiss, underneath the early morning twilight of Newt's briefcase world.