If you never call, you’ll end up stuck
It was already starting to get late by the time Evan was back at Pandora’s after his talk with Barty. Lily was already in bed, no doubt trying to finish the book she was reading so she could explain the entire plot to Remus the next time they saw each other. Evan collapsed next to her on the couch, chewing on his lip to stop himself from saying something he would regret.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Curse Pandora and how she was always able to read him. He shook his head. It was better to live with the pain than have to tell someone else about how you failed at holding onto the one person you wanted. “Will you talk about it if I ask?” He shut his eyes tight, willing himself to say no. But of course he would. He would do anything for Pandora, and she seemed to sense this. “Tell me everything.”
Evan took a shaky breath before he started to talk. And he started at the very beginning. “In 6th year I realised I was in love with Barty. Like Pandora, I don’t even know how to word it. I would have killed for him. I know he had his issues but he tried so hard to be good, he was good, to me at least. For three years, until about 6 months ago, we kept everything a secret. It hurt, hiding him, but he wasn’t ready for anyone to know. I know he has this reputation for sleeping around and all that stuff but it was all just rumours, at least it was.” He finds himself rather bitter about having to use the past tense. He had heard all about Barty’s recent escapades from mutual friends.
“Um, I really couldn't picture anything without him. I thought he was my soulmate. A few months after we moved in together things started to change.” He tried not to let his voice crack, keeping the ever stoic persona. “We didn’t talk as much, he barely looked at me. It was like we were just strangers living in the same house. And slowly I started to realise that no matter how much effort I put in he’s not going to try and so it would be better if we broke up. He- things got bad for him. Pandora, you know how he can be. He has these episodes, they can last weeks sometimes. I couldn’t leave him. I stayed by his fucking side telling him I loved him like a fucking dog, when all he could do was lay there. And I hated myself for loving him. He made me hate myself. And when he was better he just left me. We didn’t talk again until last night.”
There was a stillness around him, and then Pandora had her arms around him and her face pressed into his shoulder. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to tell me.”
Evan let out a deep exhale. “How long have you known?”
“In 7th year I came to you for help with his birthday gift. I asked you what his favourite flowers were and you told me, and I quote, ‘Forget-me-nots, because they’re technically weeds and he didn’t want them to be left out, and snapdragons because he thinks they have a cool name’. Everytime I would ask you how your day was you would look at him first and then say good. You had photos in your apartment where you looked at him as if he had hung the moon. Didn’t do a great job at hiding it, but then again you can never really hide love.”
“He’s straight.” Evan spoke as if it were a question.
Pandora gives him a pitying look. “He’s not though, is he?”
His face contorts into something ugly, something he wouldn’t let anyone but Pandora see. “I don’t want to believe that he never really loved me. It had to be real.”
“It was.”
It was after that that Pandora went to bed and Evan was left alone. One thousand questions and twice as many memories circling him like vultures to a wounded animal. He felt the heat on his skin as if he was bleeding out into the sand. His imaginary death did not create a pretty picture, nothing with Evan ever did. He made his way to his favourite part of the kitchen, the liquor cabinet, picking out a nice bottle of whiskey. Barty liked whiskey, they always used to keep at least one bottle. His favourite was tequila though. Evan still remembered that Barty preferred fruity tasting drinks unless he had had a long day, then it was always whiskey, no ice. Evan usually couldn’t stand the taste so he would jokingly say he wouldn’t kiss Barty after. The lie never lasted for more than 10 minutes.
Regardless of the memories the bottle came with, he popped it open and put the glass to his lips. He had no doubt that if Pandora saw him she would scowl and say something about it being unsanitary. Right now he didn’t really care. He savoured the burn in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut. He drank until the thoughts became blurs and things didn’t hurt quite so much.
If you asked Evan, he wouldn’t say he had much of a problem with drinking. What he would probably tell you, if he trusted you enough, is that he had a problem with coping. He tended to swap his methods every once in a while, he thought it was a skill. None of that ‘Jack of all trades is a master of none’ nonsense. Evan was a master at being as sick as possible in every single way. Because to him, what was the point of recovery if you weren’t even at rock bottom yet? He needed to be so sick that people started to notice without him telling them. Some things he couldn’t say, he just needed someone to see.
Before he could think, his phone was in his hand typing to that contact he was supposed to have blocked by now.
Evan
miss yuo
I shoudlnt
itsnbeen forever
I thohhtn we wiodl get maried
you shoudln call me
no wait
kiss me
like alst night
I liekd it
I miss kissing uyo
miss uour skin
you
night night bats
He woke up the next morning to a missed call from Barty from 5 minutes ago, his phone in his hand, and a pounding headache. That was two nights in a row he had ended up sleeping on a couch. This couldn’t be good for his back. He licked over his teeth, grimacing as he read through the texts he had sent last night. His eyes settled on the last message, and on that one word.
Bats.
He hadn’t dared to say the name out loud in far too long. He could still remember how it tasted. He remembered how it sounded when it was low and guttural during their worst fights and how it was soft and delicate when they were alone at night. He didn’t think he would ever be able to forget.
Just then the phone started ringing in his hand again, shocking him awake. “Shit!” He nearly dropped the phone but it landed straight in his lap. Barty was calling, and he felt like he had to pick up.
And so he did.
“Barty.” It came out as a sigh, a sailor calling home, a ringing in his ears that made him want to pound his head into brick.
He could hear Barty shifting on the other side of the phone. “You called me Bats.”
“You kissed me.”
“You kissed me.” Evan rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto his face. He could hear Barty’s voice and just imagine exactly how he looked. He could imagine what he had been thinking when he rang Evan. It shouldn’t have made him smile, but it did.
“You also kissed my sister.” This hurt a bit more to say, and the smile faded along with the words.
“I’m straight.”
“No you're not.”
He waited for a moment for a reply, and when it doesn’t come he expects Barty to hang up. Then he hears his voice, and he can tell something is wrong. He can hear how much the boy in the voice is hurting. He can picture how Barty’s holding the phone, pressed against his ear with white knuckles. “I have to be.”
Oh. Evan couldn’t say he understood, because he didn’t and he wasn’t going to lie and say he did. He wasn’t going to lie and say things were okay, or that Barty was okay, because obviously he wasn’t. Evan could tell he wasn’t. “Can I come over?” He wasn't sure why he offered so quickly. He really thought he would hesitate more. He hardly even knew who Barty was anymore, it wasn’t fair to assume the boy would want him there when he felt like this.
“Please.”
Evan let himself into the flat. He had already known the door would be unlocked. Regulus was in the kitchen but Evan was seemingly unable to feel fear about his secret being found out. He smiled at Regulus and watched the boy glance up the stairs before nodding at him. “Talk to him, I think he needs it. I think he needs you.”
I think he needs you. Evan is in front of Bartys door, trying to muster up the guts to knock. Thankfully he didn’t have to, because he heard a voice from the other side inviting him in.
“Fucks sake Evan. I know you’re there, just come in.” His voice sounded tired, Evan wished he could make it better. But that wasn’t his job anymore.
Inside the room Barty was under the covers on his side. Evan felt a bit unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do and ended up sitting at the end of the bed. “I don’t want to talk.” He heard Barty mumble, face barely visible.
“Then we won’t talk.” Evan complied. He knew Barty. He knew sometimes he just had to listen.
There was shallow breathing, and then quiet words. “Just stay. Just be, Evan.” He could do that, he hasn’t let himself do that in a while. Stay, that is. Or be. Evan missed just being.
He didn’t quite take in what Barty meant until he saw the boy sit up and look at the empty spot next to him, then back up at Evan. He dipped his head and obliged, moving next to Barty, letting the boy relax against his chest. There were so many things he had to say, so many things he hated himself for thinking. He hated that he loved Barty, and he hated that he hated Barty at the same time. He didn’t know which was worse.
“Was your text true?” He had his hands in Bartys hair, wrapping the strands around his fingers.
He exhaled, humming. “I was drunk, Barty.”
“I know.” There was silence, but it wasn’t awkward this time. It was a familiar silence, a needed rest in the conversation. “Can I put on a song?” He nodded and passed Barty his own phone, seeing as Barty’s was all the way on his bedside table, and he was rather comfortable like this. He heard the boy laugh softly. “I like your playlist titles. Red wine, park walks, workout playlist.”
“Leave me alone, I’m sure yours are no better.” He laughed. He knew Bartys weren’t better. Barty didn’t make playlists. He would either listen to his liked songs on shuffle or steal Evan’s playlists. Not that he ever minded. He watched Barty examine the songs on the playlists before selecting one and hitting play. The first song came on.
I haven’t got the guts to call him up
“Skip it.” Evan found himself blurting out. This was quite possibly the worst song to come on at this time. Barty just nodded and moved on to the next one.
Remember when we first met?
You said light my cigarette
This was better. He found himself humming along to it, feeling the steady weight of Barty against his chest.
So I lied to my mom and dad
And jumped the fence and I ran
“Rosie?” That fucking name, snapping Evan out of everything. His focus moved to the dark hair still curled around his fingers.
But we couldn’t go very far
‘Cause you locked your keys in your car
“Yeah Bats?” He couldn’t not say it. He had been so right. It felt like he had bitten his tongue, like at any moment he could start bleeding out.
So you sat and stared at my lips
And I could already feel your kiss
“I think in another lifetime we could have worked, y’know?” Evan didn’t know actually. “I wish you were a girl.” Oh.
Long nights, daydreams
Sugar and smoke rings, I’ve been a fool
“I think sometimes I hate you.” He didn’t even mean to say it.
But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you
“Yeah.” And then Barty was at his face, and he could feel the boy's breath against his lips. And for a second it was like nothing changed, like they were sneaking around because they were scared to tell people. Like this was love.
Kissing Barty was as easy as breathing, that's how Evan always described it. It was what he was made to do, and he thought he could be content doing it forever. Evan had never really wanted more than that, and that had been okay. Barty was the first person to let him feel okay for not wanting more. Barty let him feel human.
“I meant what I said in those texts. I still love you.”
“I know.” No ‘I love you too’. Evan didn’t take it to heart. Actually he really did but it was better to hide it for Barty’s sake. “Regulus knows by the way. Turns out he’s known for a while.”
“Pandora did as well. It’s in the past now Barty, it doesn’t matter.” God that hurt to say. “We’re just friends.”
“Just friends.” Barty whispered verbatim. “Can I kiss you?” Evan nodded, and once more he could breathe. He thought life could never hurt more than it did right now, with the love of his life on his chest, kissing him as if there was still mutual love, as if Barty hadn’t been the one to kill them before.
Evan couldn’t remember the last time he had slept in the same bed as Barty. Technically they weren’t sleeping through the night but a day time nap still counted right? They slept with just the trousers they had been wearing, wrapped up in each other, skin to skin. The way they used to when they were in love. And Evan couldn’t shake the ache in his core.