Talk Show Host
The sky outside Evan’s flat was a deep, velvety black, with only a sliver of the moon casting a faint glow. Inside, the air was thick with a tension that had been building for weeks, ever since that first night in downtown London. Barty stood in the doorway, his pulse quickening as he looked around the space that had become so familiar. He had been there many times before, but that night felt different—charged, somehow, with an energy he couldn’t quite place.
Evan’s flat was modest but comfortable, with clean lines and a minimalistic style that mirrored the man himself. It was a place Barty had come to associate with comfort and escape, a sanctuary from the chaos of his own life. They had been meeting up regularly since that first encounter, their nights together a mix of teasing banter, shared drinks, and stolen glances that hinted at something deeper. But despite the growing connection between them, Barty couldn’t shake the feeling that Evan was holding something back, a piece of himself that remained just out of reach.
That night, though, there was no denying the charge in the air between them. Barty could feel it thrumming beneath his skin, making his heart pound harder than it had in a long time. He wasn’t used to feeling this way—so on edge, so exposed—but there was something about Evan that made him want to push past the boundaries he had always set for himself.
He moved further into the flat, trying to suppress the nervous energy that buzzed under his skin. Evan followed, his presence steady but somehow distant, as if he were there but not entirely. They had spent enough time together that Barty could read Evan’s moods, and tonight, there was something off. Something that made Barty want to push, to break through whatever wall Evan had put up between them.
“Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to sit down?” Evan’s voice cut through the silence, a mix of amusement and challenge in his tone.
Barty smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. “What’s the rush? Nervous I might find something you’re hiding?” He raised an eyebrow, the teasing edge in his voice matching the playful glint in his eyes.
Evan’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile, but his eyes remained guarded. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” he replied, moving toward the small kitchen. He paused and turned back to Barty, his voice casual as he asked, “Do you want a drink?”
For a moment, Barty considered it. The thought of alcohol had always been tempting, a way to ease the tension he often carried. But tonight, he wanted something more than just another drink to dull the edges. He wanted clarity—an unfiltered connection with Evan.
“No,” Barty said finally, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. He reached out, grabbing Evan’s wrist before he could take another step. His grip tightened just slightly, his eyes locked on Evan’s. “I don’t want a drink.”
Evan stopped, his gaze flicking down to where Barty’s hand was wrapped around his wrist before looking back up, a spark of something unreadable flashing in his eyes. “Then what do you want, Barty?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, but there was an edge to it that made Barty’s skin prickle.
Barty could feel the tension crackling between them, the air growing thick with it. He could see the challenge in Evan’s eyes, the way his lips curved into that infuriatingly confident smile, as if he knew exactly how to push Barty’s buttons. And maybe he did. But Barty wasn’t about to back down.
Instead of answering with words, Barty took a step closer, closing the distance between them. He could feel the heat radiating off Evan’s body, the faint scent of his cologne filling his senses. His hand slid from Evan’s wrist to his forearm, a slow, deliberate motion that made Evan’s breath hitch.
Evan didn’t move, didn’t pull away. Instead, he held Barty’s gaze, his eyes darkening with something that sent a thrill of anticipation through Barty’s veins. It was like they were locked in a silent battle, each daring the other to make the first move.
“You think you’ve got me figured out, don’t you?” Barty murmured, his voice low, almost a whisper. His fingers traced the outline of Evan’s muscles, his touch light but with an underlying intensity.
“Maybe,” Evan replied, his voice steady, but there was a slight tremor in his breath that didn’t go unnoticed. “Or maybe you’re just that easy to read.”
Barty’s lips curled into a smirk, his fingers trailing up to Evan’s shoulder, lingering there for a moment before he leaned in closer. Their faces were inches apart now, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. The tension was nearly unbearable, a tight coil of anticipation that wound tighter with every second that passed.
“Am I?” Barty’s voice was barely more than a breath, his eyes locked on Evan’s. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he waited for Evan’s response.
Evan’s eyes flicked down to Barty’s lips, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, Barty thought he was going to pull away, to break the spell that had been cast between them. But then, with a sudden, almost desperate motion, Evan closed the gap, his lips crashing against Barty’s in a kiss that was as fierce as it was unexpected.
The kiss was intense, a clash of wills as much as a meeting of lips. Barty responded in kind, his hand sliding up to the back of Evan’s neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. It was a battle for control, neither of them willing to give an inch, the tension between them finally snapping like a taut wire.
Evan pushed Barty back against the wall, his hands gripping Barty’s hips as he took the lead. There was nothing gentle about it—this was a kiss filled with heat, with a desire that had been simmering for weeks, threatening to boil over. Barty’s heart raced as he let himself get lost in it, his hands tangling in Evan’s hair, pulling him closer, needing more.
They broke apart only when the need for air became too great, both of them panting heavily, their foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath. Barty’s heart was still pounding, his entire body thrumming with adrenaline, but he couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face.
“You kiss like you’re trying to prove something,” Barty teased, his voice breathless but still cocky, trying to regain some semblance of control in the aftermath of that kiss.
Evan chuckled, his breath ghosting over Barty’s lips. “And you kiss like you’re not used to someone kissing you back,” he shot back, his tone light but with an edge that sent a thrill through Barty.
“Maybe I’m not,” Barty admitted, his smirk widening. “But I’m a quick learner.”
“Good,” Evan replied, his voice dropping an octave, a dark promise in his tone. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”