Down On His Knees

Going to church had never been Barty’s favorite thing to do. So tell him why he was there. On a fucking Saturday. His father woke him up at the buttcrack of dawn(8 am) and told him to get ready for church. Why they were going, he had no clue. He knew he didn’t really have a choice though, so he got up and dressed. Now, he was just sitting in the pews, bored out of his mind as he waited for his father to tell him what was going on. 

After an hour of sitting there, Barty came to the conclusion that he wasn’t getting an explanation. 

He got up and went to just wander. It’s not like he’d find anything new, Barty grew up in this church. It was practically his second home. He knew every nook and crevice like the back of his hand. When he wandered, it was always purely because he was bored. Looking at the statues and windows he’d seen a hundred times. Counting how many rows of seats there were, looking at the dirty red carpet. Sighing as he saw the confessions room… He hadn’t been in a couple weeks. Not since… This is why Barty didn’t like going to church. The nausea that was in his stomach always got worse while he was there. The guilt crushed him. 

He wasn’t going to do it. He had no reason to confess. He’d done nothing wrong. 

But he’s done everything wrong, hasn’t he?

Barty bowed his head, closing his eyes as he prayed quickly.

Please God, forgive me. Please bless me as I confess my sins, and pray to you that you can guide me on your path. Amen.

Before Barty could think twice about what he was doing, he had opened the door to the booth, walking inside. 

“Hello?” He said quietly, not really sure if anyone was in there at that moment. 

Then he heard, “Come on in, child. Have a seat.”

Barty nodded, even though the priest couldn’t see him, sitting down. 

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy spirit. Amen.”

“Amen.” He echoed, picking at his nails as he continued, “Bless me Father, for I have sinned, it has been a couple weeks since my last confession, and these are my sins.”

The room was quiet as the priest waited for Barty to confess. It was all on him now, and he couldn’t get out of it. Barty had to confess it. The only thing that had been eating at him this whole time. But he couldn’t. 

But he had to. This is the only way you’ll be forgiven. You’ve fucked up enough.

“I…” Barty felt the words get caught in his throat, “I’ve committed a grave sin Father, I- I engaged in homosexuality. I made out with a man. I had sex with one. More than once.” 

He said it. He really went and said it. Barty felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. But a new weight immediately took its place. 

Guilt. That he’d admitted to it. Evan would think he was an idiot. Why would he confess to that? There’s nothing wrong with it, Evan would say, it’s stupid how they’ve made you believe it.

Once it was made clear Barty was finished, the priest spoke once more. 

“Now, as for your penance. Your father will hear of this, and he will do as he sees fit.”

Some people may have taken that as the priest saying God will punish Barty. Or that God would show Barty the way. But Barty knew exactly which father the priest was talking about. 

Barty prayed his prayer of contrition– the same prayer he’s repeated every time since he first came to confession– and then the priest granted him absolution.

“God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

Barty made the sign of the cross, his mind drifting elsewhere as he mumbled, “Amen.”

“God has freed you from your sins. Go in peace.”

“Thanks be to God.” Barty responded in turn as he rose, ready to get out of there. He left and didn’t look back, not even caring why his father wanted him there anymore. 

Barty wasn’t sure where he was going honestly, he just had to go somewhere. It had begun to rain, much to Barty’s annoyance. He should’ve brought a coat, but what did it matter now? He was already wet. 

He was walking, head down and hands shoved in his pockets, so he didn’t see where he’d ended up until he bumped into someone. He blinked as he saw Evan– Wait, no. Their hair was too long to be Evan’s. Barty blinked, wiping the rain out of his eyes.

Oh. It was Pandora. 

“Oh dear, are you okay?! I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you! Barty, right?” 

He nodded dumbly, her words coming out so fast he didn’t have much time to really reply. Her blonde hair was in a braid behind her, and her green dress had gotten slightly wet from when they collided, not that she seemed to mind. 

“And look at you! You’re soaked! Come inside, only Evan’s home right now.” She grabbed his arm, holding the umbrella she’d been holding over them as she guided him up to the house, promptly unlocking the door. 

“Make yourself at home! Evan’s upstairs! I’d love to stay and chat with you, but I’m afraid I don’t have time. I have to go collect rainwater, you see. Goodbye!”

And just like that, she was gone. Barty eyed the inside of the house before hesitantly slipping inside. The door swung shut on its own, making Barty jump. Of course the haunted house Evan lived in was freaky. 

Barty slowly stepped further inside, looking around the dark place. There were lights on, but it still felt darker than it should. Maybe because of the rain. 

The staircase was right to the left of the front door, which made Barty remember what Pandora said. Evan should be upstairs…

Why was he hesitating? Maybe it was the fact that he was now in the house of the boy he just confessed about. Or maybe it was just because the house was creepy as fuck. Barty was going to go with the second reason. 

Climbing up the creaking steps, Barty looked at the photos on the wall. He wasn’t sure how happy of a family he expected the Rosiers to be, but somehow, for everyone’s talk about them– They seemed normal. Evan and Pandora seemed like happy enough kids in the photos, but still very much themselves. Evan never seemed to smile unless he was in the same photo as his sister though. Barty chuckled to himself. Little Evan’s blank face was adorable. He still had the same stare. 

Once he was upstairs, it wasn’t hard to figure out which room was Evan’s. It literally had his name written on it. He stood outside the closed door, unsure whether or not he should actually do this. Oh, fuck it. 

He knocked on the door, turning the handle and going inside. Evan was sitting on his bed, headphones on as he seemed to be drawing something. He likes to draw. Barty noted that down mentally, he didn’t know when he would need this information. 

Evan looked up at him, a genuine look of surprise on his face. He pulled his headphones down to his neck. “Barty?”

“Yup. In the flesh.” He laughed, giving him a half smile. 

“What’re you- how are you here?” 

“Well, you see, I was walkin’ and then I bumped into your sister, and she let me in.”

“Of course she did,” He sighed, laughing to himself as he looked Barty up and down, “You’re soaked.”

“She said the same thing.” Barty grinned, not wanting to sit down because he was indeed soaked, and would wet up Evan’s bed. 

Evan pushed himself off his bed, rummaging through a couple of his drawers, he pulled out a wrinkled T-shirt and some jeans. He handed them to Barty with a smirk.

“How the tables have turned. Guess I’m finally returning the favor. And your shirt.”

Barty took the clothes from him, nodding. He had completely forgotten that he’d given Evan that shirt. “I won’t ever turn down a shirt from a hot guy.” He said, remembering what Evan had said when they first met. 

Evan chuckled and sat back on the bed, leaning on his arms. Barty could feel his eyes on him, waiting. Barty felt himself get a bit hot. “You’re going to be the death of me, Rosie.”

He peeled off the wet shirt, and then his pants. His underwear was a bit wet too, but Barty wasn’t that troubled by it. He most certainly wasn’t asking Evan for underwear. 

All the while, Evan’s eyes did not leave his body. Barty will admit, he did get a little performative with it. But can you blame him?

He zipped up the pants and then laid down on the bed, next to Evan. Evan looked down at him, wiping a piece of damp hair out of Barty’s face. It was weirdly gentle, and it made Barty feel warm. He smiled at Evan, leaning into his touch. God, he loved this boy. Why wasn’t he allowed to…

“So, how’d you end up all rained on?” Evan eventually asked, breaking the silence and pulling Barty from his thoughts. Evan’s hand was still lingering on Barty’s face, and Barty was hoping he wouldn’t move it. 

“Ah,” He hummed, trying to think of some way to not lie to Evan, but he sure as hell wasn’t telling the truth, “I was at church with my dad. I got sick of being there, so I bounced.” It sounded reasonable enough. Sounded Barty enough. 

“Hm. I’m glad you ended up here then.”

Barty’s eyebrows rose. He didn’t expect that. “You are?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” Evan sighed, moving to lie next to Barty. Their hands were brushing against each other. Just one small move, and they’d be holding hands. Barty doesn’t think he’d ever wanted something more.

He shrugged the best he could while lying down, “I dunno. Just didn’t really expect it, I did kinda just show up.”

“I’d rather you here than there.” 

I’d rather be here than there too. I’m happier when I’m with you. But instead of saying that, Barty mumbled some form of an agreement. It fell quiet between them, the only sounds coming from the rain outside and their breathing. Barty had looked up at the ceiling, only seeing Evan looking at him from the corner of his eye. 

Whether it had taken seconds or minutes, he couldn’t tell you, but their hands interlocked. Barty had finally worked up the courage, only to feel Evan moving his hand too. A joint effort. Maybe there was hope for him yet. Maybe Evan liked him back. Maybe him and Evan could… 

“Barty?”

“Hm?” He turned to Evan, his eyes widening as he realized how close their faces were. Inches apart, so close their breaths were mixing together. Barty let out a soft exhale. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Barty thought his heart stopped right then; Maybe it did. Maybe his life as he knew it ended in that moment right there. But once it started again, he knew it was Evan’s. His heart, his life, his everything. It was Evan’s. 

So, there was no other answer. He nodded, “Kiss me.”

Evan cupped Barty’s cheek, closing the small distance between them. It was so gentle. So gentle and kind and loving– It was nothing like Barty’d ever experienced. He and Evan had kissed before, sure, but it was never like this. Nothing Barty ever had was like Evan. Barty’s free hand moved to hold onto Evan’s arm. Evan kissed him like he loved him, like Barty meant something to him. He held Barty the same way. And Barty could only hope that as he kissed him back, that Evan felt the way he loved him. 

They pulled back after what felt like not long enough, breathing heavily as they looked into each other’s eyes. Barty wanted to kiss him again. Instead, he said–

“I love you.”

Evan’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to say something but he didn’t get the chance. Barty’s phone rang, in the one specific ringtone he had for his father. Barty tensed up, and pulled away from Evan, moving to grab it out his pocket. 

“Hello?” He mumbled into the phone, sitting up and away from Evan. 

His father was pissed. He didn’t say much to Barty, but Barty knew. And there was this gnawing feeling in his gut he’d messed up. The voice coming off the phone was sounding eerily similar to the priest’s from earlier. He’d confessed to his father.

Hanging up the phone, Barty stood up, shoving it in his pocket. Evan was sitting up now too, watching Barty with what seemed like a blank face, but he could see the concern in Evan’s eyes. 

“My father wants me home.”

“Don’t go.”

“I have to, Evan.”

“Bat, please.”

The nickname made Barty falter for a moment. Bat. Any other time, he’d smile about it. But not right now. He couldn’t. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow, Evan.” He whispered, leaving Evan alone in his room.

***

“Stop- please-” Barty begged, tears streaking his cheeks as he tried to look back at his father. He was seething. 

“A boy, Bartemius. You slept with a boy!” He lashed Barty over his back with his folded belt for the hundredth time. At least that’s what it felt like. He’d never gone on so long in punishing Barty. Even though Barty didn’t resist, he apologized, he did everything he could. But his father wouldn’t stop. Not until he got a name. 

“WHO IS IT?” Bartemius Sr yelled, whipping Barty again. Barty cried out, gagging as he coughed. The welts burned. They felt wet. It hurt. Barty could barely think straight, bent over his couch, his father standing over him with the belt. I can’t tell him about Evan. Not Evan. Not Evan. Not Evan. It was the only thing other than the pain he could think about. 

“N-no one.” 

He grabbed Barty by his hair, dragging him off the couch and onto his knees in front of him. 

“Look up at me. Now.” He ordered, like Barty really had any choice with his father doing it himself. 

“You will tell me who this boy is. I will make you sit here, praying as I punish you. Tell me who the faggot is that’s corrupted you and I will let you off with ten more lashes Bartemius.” 

No. No. He can’t- “No- I- Dad, it’s not his fault, it’s mine, please.”

He slapped Barty across the face. Barty could barely feel it over everything else.

“What is his name? I will not ask you again.”

Barty stayed silent besides his heavy breathing. He just wanted it to stop. 

“Did you think you’d get away with it? Hm? Even if it wasn’t me in that booth, I still would’ve found out. Here I thought you’d learned from the last time you got in trouble, but no. You never learn. How did I end up with a son like you?”

Barty cursed himself for thinking he could be happy. For thinking, just for that lone moment earlier, that things would be okay. That thinking he could live a life he wanted and be happy. 

He let go of Barty’s hair, letting his son drop to the floor like a ragdoll.

“Kneel. Start with the Lord’s prayer.”

Barty felt like he wanted to die. It’d probably be a better outcome. He trembled as he pushed himself up to his knees, interlocking his hands. 

“O-our father… who art in heaven…”

His father kicked him in the stomach. Barty gagged, throwing up in front of him a bit. 

“Sit up straighter. And stop stuttering.”

“Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in heaven. Give us this d-day… our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us… And lead us not into temptation, but d-deliver us from evil. Amen.”

His father watched him, and Barty was crying silently. Please. Please God, have mercy on me. Please make him stop. 

But Barty should know better by now. God never listens and his father never stops. 

“Again.”

***

It’s Sunday… Barty blinked as the sun shone through the windows, as he woke up on the floor of the living room. Did I pass out? He couldn’t remember. Everything hurt too much for him to even want to remember. All he knew was that if he didn’t get ready for church right that second, he’d be getting a second beating that night. 

He pushed himself off the floor, his arms and legs shaking in protest. His back felt like it was on fire. It hurt so much. The welts were so beyond welts at that point. Barty was sure they had been bleeding, if they weren’t still. 

He needed to shower. God, that’s gonna fucking hurt.

Barty didn’t have much other choice. Just as always, he had to clean himself up. Make sure the wounds don't get infected. Wrap them. 

The task was a hard, but monotonous one. He knew what to do. He knew how to do it. He got in the shower, even though the water hitting his back hurt. Barty applied the antiseptic the best he could, and wrapped his back and torso with bandages. He did it all quietly and quickly. He dressed himself in all black; a button up and dress pants. Paired with the cold, distant expression on his face, he looked like he was going to a funeral. He may as well have been.

He sighed in the mirror in front of the door. The sun was shining right on the bruise on his cheek. He looked just like his father. Maybe that’s how it was meant to be.

Either way, Barty looked at his watch. 10:30. He had 30 minutes to get to the church. More than enough time. His stomach churched at the reminder that Evan would be there. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened the door, starting to walk to the church down the street. 

He’d ignore Evan. He had to. It was the best choice for them both. And Barty wasn’t sure if seeing Evan was really worth another replay of last night’s events. Barty wouldn’t give in this time. No. He knew who he was, and what he had to do.

So walking into the church, Barty didn’t even spare a glance at Evan. He walked up to his father, alerting him of his arrival. His father dismissed him, and Barty went to go get water. He hadn’t eaten or drank anything since the morning before, he felt a bit lightheaded. 

Barty knew Evan was behind him before he even made his presence known. 

“Barty.”

He turned around, looking at Evan with a resentful stare. It made Evan take a step back. 

“Barty, what’s going on?”

Barty took a sip of his water, and only once he was done, did he reply.

“Nothing. I just realized how foolish I was.”

“What?”

“Did you really think that I’d keep goin’ on with you? Evan, you’re a freak. Why would I let myself become one too?” He spat, letting the resentment that’d been building inside him from his father come out at Evan. 

“Because you know I’m not a fucking freak. Did he say something to you? Bat-”

“Shut up! Not everythin’ is because of my father! I can think for myself, you know. And I’m not gonna damn myself just for some quick fuck.”

Evan’s body tensed up, and he glared at Barty. It sent a shiver down Barty’s spine. He’s never seen Evan mad. 

Evan grabbed Barty by the shirt, dragging him outside to the back of the church. Barty was cursing at him, but at the same time trying not to draw attention to themselves. Evan stopped and pushed Barty against the wall. Barty opened his mouth to demand that Evan fucking explain himself, but was stopped by Evan punching him in the face.

Barty reacted immediately. He was tired of getting beat one sidedly. He grabbed Evan by the collar, punching him back. “What the fuck was that for?!” He spat at Evan, grappling with him as Evan fought back. 

“For calling me a fucking freak, asshole!” Another punch.

“Well, I’m sorry you can’t handle the damn truth!” A scratch.

“You’re one to talk!” Evan said, grabbing Barty’s shirt and slamming him back into the wall. Barty cried out in pain, a few buttons popping off on Barty’s shirt from how rough they were being. Barty expected another blow, but it never came. Evan was staring at Barty with wide eyes, looking somewhere between horrified and angry. 

“Barty, what the fuck did he do to you?” Evan breathed. 

He looked down, seeing that some of the bandages and his bruises from last night were now exposed. 

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath, knowing Evan sure as hell wasn’t going to leave him alone now. 

“Off. Now.” Evan said, basically already doing it himself. He was undoing Barty’s buttons, and all but ripping the shirt off his body. Barty hissed at his hastiness, but let him. Evan pulled Barty off the wall, unwrapping the bandages just enough to see.

“Holy fuck, Barty… I shouldn’t have let you go.”

“Evan-”

“No. I shouldn’t have let you fucking go. Is this why you’re acting so weird?”

Barty dropped his eyes to the ground, slowly nodding. 

Evan cupped Barty’s face, making the other boy look at him. 

“Tell me you didn’t mean what you said. Tell me, Barty.”

He had to say he meant it. There was no other choice. His father would find them. 

“We can’t be together Evan.”

“That’s not what I asked. Did you, or did you not mean what you said to me today?”

Of course he didn’t mean it. “No… No. I didn’t mean it.”

Evan smiled at him, “Then I love you too Bat. 

Barty’s eyes went wide at his proclamation, and he couldn’t stop himself. He kissed Evan. Evan. His Evan.

 Barty was kidding himself, he knew it yesterday. He couldn't stay away from Evan. No matter the consequences.