Tell me we weren't just friends

How sad was it that Evan had been inconsolable since he left Barty’s? How sad was it that he couldn’t talk to anyone or eat or leave his room? But he had his reasons, very valid ones if you asked him. He was in love. Head over heels in love for someone who couldn’t love him back, Every single word played in his head on loop.

I wish you were a girl.  

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Evan wanted to jump out of his window and crumple like paper on the ground. He would never have to look Barty in his pretty fucking eyes ever again. 

The idea of getting out of bed seemed way too much this morning, especially when just yesterday he had held Barty in his arms. Just yesterday he had kissed him like he meant it. He became slowly aware of the faint breathing next to him and looked to see his sister, still asleep.

“Panda?” He whispered, causing her to stir. “Why are you here?”

She sat up and gave him a look. One that showed every feeling to ever exist. Quite a strange look really. “Evan, I don’t think you realised just how bad you looked yesterday.”

Okay, that wasn’t very nice. What did that even mean? ‘Didn’t look nice’. “Lily and I- Fuck Evan.” Oh. Pandora thought that. Oh. “We were so scared for you.”

“I wasn’t going to do anything. You know that right? I’m not-  I’m not like that anymore.” He sighed. Now was not the time for this conversation.

“Okay. Fair enough. But you understand why we were scared right? Now come on, talk to aunty Pandora. What did the mean man say to you?” She tried to smile, forcing a soft laugh.

Evan stifled a groan, rolling his eyes at his sister, who was trying her best to keep a grin. “More like what he didn’t say. Mentioned there was something he couldn’t tell me and things just went down from there.”

And to Evans disbelief, Pandora fucking sighs. She sighs. “Evan, talk to him.”

“I’ve tried that, genius.”

She licks her lips, getting out of bed. “No, Evan. You’ve spoken to the Barty you loved, now speak to the one who’s gone months without you. Learn him again, you both need it. You both need to remember that you were always friends, before you were ever in love.”

He wanted to cry. Not because he was upset or mad, but because she was so annoyingly right. How dare she always be right about everything. That was not at all fair. “I love you, Pan.”

“Love you too, Ev. I’ll drive you to his place if you get dressed fast.” And Evan didn’t need to be told twice. 

The drive, though it was rather short, felt impossibly slow. The second felt like minutes and Evan could feel each individual turn of the tires. He didn’t speak, scared that if he did, something would come out and he would be left to bleed out while looking for answers to questions. And then suddenly the car stopped, and he stepped outside. He walked up to the door and knocked and.. 

No one answered. Well fuck him. He knocked again, and then the door did open. He looked up to see tan skin and dark hair, and eyes that looked caught. “James?” Why was James at Regulus’ house? And where was Regulus? Oh God. Okay, ew. Ew ew ew. “Oh my God, just tell me where Barty is and get out of my sight. Oh my God, that’s so gross.”

And James laughed. He had the audacity to laugh at Evan. How dare he. “I know this looks bad, just please don’t tell anyone I’m here okay? And um, Barty isn’t here. He didn’t come back last night.”

“Thanks, Potter.” Evan was going to kill himself. He tried so hard to fix things and Barty goes and sleeps with another random girl. He can picture her hand on the back of Barty’s neck, her teeth on his lips, her-. Well now he was just making himself upset. That was never a good idea.

He felt a familiar buzz in his pocket and checked to see who was calling. Barty. He was about to throw his phone. If he was lucky it would smash to bits and he would have an excuse to not talk to anyone ever again. But Evan had never not accepted a call from Barty before. He had promised to always be there if Barty needed, and he wasn’t going to go against that promise now.

“Hello?”

“This isn’t Barty.” What the fuck. He faintly recognised the voice but not well enough to pair it with a face. 

“Who are you? Why do you have his phone?” He couldn’t help the jealousy he felt at that moment. So Barty would spend the night with other guys? Maybe it was just Evan that he didn’t want. Maybe everything had been a lie.

“Um, it’s Remus.” Oh? “He’s- well he’s pretty hungover. Reg wasn’t picking up and I guess I sort of want to force you two to talk as well.”

“He told you?” Fuck! Again, nothing ever works out for Evan Rosier. 

There was a soft laugh. “Told me a lot more than that as well. He likes you Evan, it’s so obvious. He just has some stuff in his head. Ask him about it. He wants to tell you.”

“Yeah, yeah alright. Thanks, Remus.”

“So.. will you come pick him up? I love the guy and all but he’s not that pleasant when he’s hung over.” Evan was very familiar with hungover Barty, and for a second his chest ached. 

“I don’t have a way over right now, Remus. My sister already took the car.”

If there was a sound for rolling your eyes, that was what Remus did. “For fucks sake Rosier, I’ll drive you here and back to wherever you want if you get him out of my apartment and talk.”

He had to hold back a laugh. In the past few days it had gone from his best kept secret to open news and everyone was already tired of their bullshit. He sent Remus his location and waited for the exasperated looking bartender to pull up.

He had never actually talked to Remus before, and he was all the more aware of that fact when he was suddenly being driven to the man's apartment. They didn’t really have much to talk about, but Evan still found himself rather comfortable in the silence. He liked Remus. He seemed like a nice enough guy.

“You know, your boyfriend compared me to you the other night.”

“Not my boyfriend and you know it, Lupin.” There was an edge of bitterness in his voice.

“He was more right than I thought.” Evan didn’t question the comment, just grateful to finally be at Remus’ apartment. Inside, Barty was on his back on the couch, fiddling with a butter knife.

“That looks far less intimidating than I think you were going for.” He whispers, walking slowly. He wanted to be scared, considering how things had gone last time. But Evan could never be scared of Barty.

He heard a soft laugh as Barty swivelled his head. He looked a mess, but Evan had seen him in worse states. His hair was glued to his forehead and he overall looked rather sickly. Evan loved him regardless. “Rosie, nice to see you.”

“Yeah. Pandora’s out all day, so Remus is going to drive you to mine so that you don’t throw up on his nice couch.” He smiled, helping the man up. For just the second that their hands were interlocked Evan felt everything he had missed. It was an intimacy that kissing never brought. The little meaningless touches were what Evan really missed, the docile moments in between everything else.

There was no talking on the drive to Evan’s. He was deeply scared that if he were to speak or even move Barty would come to his senses and drop his hand from where he sat in the back. It was a bit awkward, with Evans shoulder bent back for just the light touch, but he didn’t really mind. Not for Barty.

He waved Remus off with a smile before all but dragging Barty, who wouldn’t stop whining about anything and everything, inside.

“Rosie baby, can you get me food? Remus was trying to starve me to death.” There was guilt stuck to the roof of his mouth, and he sucked his tongue back in hopes it would disappear. He knew Barty was sober but he still felt that in some way it was wrong to try and have any real conversation with him. Why was he being so good?

“Barty, please don’t call me that. I don’t want to have another fight with you, okay?” It came out weak. Weaker than Evan wanted. But Barty did stop.

He turned and looked at Evan. He scrunched his face but didn’t say anything. Eventually he just nodded and made his way to the very cushioned seat in the living room. Evan sat on the respective sofa, bringing his knees up so that his feet weren’t on the ground.

“I can’t give you what you need, Evan.” It was a whisper, hardly even there. Maybe if Evan closed his eyes tight enough he could pretend it wasn’t. “Or I couldn’t. But I really fucking want to. Is that bad?”

A swallowed breath and a bitten tongue. He could feel Barty’s eyes carving into the skin around his eyes and neck and hands. He savoured the burning for just a moment as he struggled for words. “I miss you so much. I hate you for it.” It sounds a little bit sad still, but maybe that's because Evan is a little bit sad. And maybe he always has been, maybe he always will be. But one thing is for certain, and that is that when he’s around Barty, he’s a little bit less sad. At least that’s how it was, and how he desperately wants it to be again. “How have you been Barty, honestly?”

He could swear he heard Barty laugh. “Really shitty, Ev. Really really shitty. You?”

“‘Bout the same.” He smiled. It was a real smile. The sort that isn’t so much seen as it is felt. That light pressure in your cheeks, the tugging at your lips. “I think I’m becoming an alcoholic or something.”

“I think I’m becoming a whore. Or something.” He grins back, causing Evan to roll his eyes and cross his arms.

“Remus told me I had to ask what your secret was.” It came out of nowhere. But suddenly there was Barty, pale faced like a fish out of water. He looked like he was about to be sick, causing an instant recoil in Evan’s posture.

“Evan.” He was begging. Evan knew Barty, and he was begging. Barty didn’t beg.
“Tell me.” He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to cry, okay?

Barty drew out a breath, as if he was trying to make it last just a little bit longer. “Um, yeah. Okay, I guess we’re doing this.” He looked like he wanted to cry. Evan really didn’t want to see Barty crying right now. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault and I never stopped loving you.”

If he hadn’t already been facing Barty, he would have gotten whiplash from turning his head so fast. “That’s not fair.”

“Evan-”

“No. Barty, that’s not fair. You can’t say that. Please don’t say that. If you loved me, why did you kill us? Why didn’t you try and stay with me?”

“I did love you, I do love you. Evan.”

“I didn’t feel loved. Shouldn’t that be important too?”

And then Barty said the two words that made Evan want to sink somewhere deep underwater and never breathe again. The words that made his heart recoil down down down until the blood couldn’t make it to his head and his mind went blank.

“My dad.”

“Excuse me?” Evan hated himself, for just a moment. Or maybe more than a moment. Maybe he had hated himself for a very long time at this point. That was a topic for a different time, a time when your ex boyfriend wasn’t crying about his daddy issues while sitting across from you.

“Um, he found out. Basically told me not to talk to any people like you or he would make me pay for it. You, you know what that means?”

People like you.

He could feel it in his chest, how his heart was contracting over and over, wringing itself out like a cloth. “Oh.”

“It was never your fault. I shouldn’t have left. I should have told someone sooner. I wish I had. I hate him so much, Ev. I hate that he made me lose you. I hate that I didn't try harder. I hate that I still can’t accept this. I was told it was wrong for so long. It still doesn’t feel right.” Barty is rambling now. Evan can tell. He moved over to the boy, standing above him and cupping his jaw.

For a second he could see past all the walls that Barty had meticulously built, but just as quickly as they fell, they were back. “Bats, do you want to try again?” He held his breath, waiting.

“I can’t make any promises Ev, you need to know that. I can’t promise that if he finds out I won’t chicken out again. I can’t promise I won’t go crawling when he calls. It’s all I’ve known, for so, so long.”

“How did you hide this for so long? Barty, I’m so sorry.” There was a pause, and then Barty was standing and Evan was moving back. And then they were both on the couch and they weren’t crying but the room was still thick with ache. Evan could taste it like metal on his tongue. “We can try, we will try. We can work through it all, we can talk it out okay?”

“Baby steps though?”

“As slow as you need. Day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. Let’s start with a first date, yeah? We never really did one of those last time.” He wanted to reach over and hold Barty. He wanted to breathe him in like smoke from the cheap cigarettes he knows Barty hasn’t quit yet, wants to consume him through his skin, feed on him like he’s a death row inmate's last meal. He needs him, in every manor humanly possible.

“That sounds nice. I’d love to go on a date with you, Rosie.”

“I missed you so fucking much.”

“Baby steps.”