Crazy and Crazier

The entire string of events had grown from one, stupid question, in an even stupider game of truth or fucking dare, of all things. Because of course, his friends were children. And he was the biggest child for getting involved, but Barty had never been one to turn down a game.

The game should have begun simply, but with his set of friends, there was no such thing as simple. The first question was fired and two people were already on top of eachother, making abhorrent noises for a public space. 

But Barty paid them no mind, fully aware that he would do the same thing if he was asked, and he undoubtedly would be within seconds, knowing his friends. He watched joyously as Marlene climbed out of Lily's lap, after happilyfulfilling her dare, to kiss the person on her left. 

Barty knocked back some more of his vodka redbull, waiting his turn. He loved these games if he was honest. He would take any opportunity to start shit, so this was the perfect chance; in a group of friends, all sat in Barty's living room. Well, technically his and Evan's living room. 

The two had been planning to live together since they were 13, and could begin to fantasise of a different life, a better life. They would lie on the roof of Evan's house, looking up at the sunset over their shitty town, full of people they hated, and people who hated them. And they did it, got out, came to University, and met people who finally understood them. Maybe not to the extent that they understood each other, but that was probably impossible. 

So by half way through their first year of living in dorms, they had already picked out an apartment near campus, big windows, and an unfair landlord, cheap rent and a broken shower. It was perfect. 

One bedroom, though. 

But, they didn't mind. It would have been a waste to have two, was the excuse they gave to their friends, when they got questioning looks. They would have ended up sleeping in the same bed anyway. They somehow always did.

In the span of their friendship with each of their new friends, every single one has asked the two if they were dating, on separate occasions. The answer was no. They weren't. They were something else, something better, Barty mused. 

Evan and Barty. It was an impenetrable force. They loved eachother, in their own, completely fucked way. They knew each other inside and out, knew each others deepest, darkest, secrets. So that's why it took Barty by surprise when he heard the question being asked to Evan. 

‘Truth, hmm, okay…’ It was Mary speaking, she was standing over by the counter, leaning on Dorcas. When Dorcas saw Mary thinking, she leaned up to the girl's ear, and whispered something that made the other girl smile and clap excitedly.

‘Oh! This is a good one. Evan, have you ever kissed anyone?’ 

The question surprised Barty, because he knew, was fully certain that Mary knew. That Dorcas knew. Everyone in the room knew, that Evan didn't do that. He had never kissed anyone. He had never even been on a date. It took a lot for Evan to have interest in someone. And it took even more for him to ever do anything about it. 

Barty had seen it once, in year 10. A girl in the year above, she had tutored Evan in French. They spent every second lunch together for two weeks, and with every passing lesson, Evan would come back more obsessed. Something about how she sounded when she spoke French, he said. Barty didn't like it. Anybody could speak French, if they tried hard enough. He didn't understand the fuss. 

But Evan had never kissed her, she had stopped tutoring him, done her exams and left. Evan had never liked anyone else. Barty was sure of it.

So why Mary would ask him that, was beyond him. If she was making fun of him, Barty would kick her out, no questions asked. He eyed her, suspicion on his face, but she was staring at Evan, who still hadn't replied. 

Wait. Why hadn't he replied? Barty turned to look at him. He was blushing. 

‘What the fuck?’ Barty said, out loud apparently, as it caused half the room to look at him, Evan included. Barty was staring at the boy, looking at him, waiting. 

He was going to say no, Barty knew it. But the pause wasn't doing anything to ease his stress. 

‘Yeah.’ 

Barty felt his heart stop. Evan had kissed someone. Evan had kissed someone. 

And not told him. Why the fuck didn't Barty know? Barty should have been the first person to know, he thought. 

‘You're fucking kidding.’ Barty spoke, over the gasps and laughter of his friends. Their living room was cramped, with about 15 people all crammed into the small space, it was practically a miniature party at that point, but Evan heard him over everyone, seeing as he hadn't broke eye contact with Barty once. 

Regulus elbowed him from beside Barty, but Barty didn't care about what anybody did to him, not until he figured out what was going on. ‘Leave him alone, Barty.’ 

Barty scoffed at that, not dignifying Regulus’ frankly ridiculous statement. 

Leave him alone. As if, as if Barty could ever leave Evan alone. 

‘Ev. Answer me.’ Barty wasn't laughing with the rest of the group. This was fucking serious. His grip on his glass was concerningly tight, the remainders of his drink threatening to spill all over the floor if he didn't hold up. 

‘Yeah. I kissed someone. It isn't a big deal, Barty. You have kissed loads of people.’ And Barty scoffed at this again, eyes widening. He couldn't help himself, because now Evan was being ridiculous. 

But Evan’s baseless statement could be dealt with later, Barty had something worse to deal with, confirmation that Evan was speaking the truth. Evan had fucking kissed someone. His first kiss. And he hadn't told Barty. 

‘No. Room, now.’ Was all Barty had to say. He continued to hold his glass as he stood up and stormed into their bedroom, if only to have something to do with his hands. If he wasn't keeping himself busy, he would probably pull out a tooth or something crazy like that. But that was just how he was feeling. Crazy. Because this was crazy. 

It had to be a joke. Barty stared at the door, where it was slammed behind him, waiting for Evan to walk through the doors, say he lied, and for life to resume. 

And Evan did walk through the door, but he didn't say what Barty wanted to hear. He said the opposite. ‘Tell me you lied.’ Barty needed to hear it, needed those words more than he had ever needed anything.

‘What is your deal? I kissed someone. So what?’ Evan was acting as though Barty was insane, and maybe he was. But if Barty was insane, then Evan was out of his mind. 

‘Not a big fucking deal, are you kidding me, Ev?’ The words were spat at the blonde in front of him. He didn't mean to be angry, to be mean, but he couldn't help it. The world was collapsing before him and it seemed like everyone was doing just fine, whilst Barty was fucking drowning.

‘His name is Matt. He’s nice.’ 

Matt. Nice. 

Jesus.

‘Since when do you like nice?’ Barty sounded desperate by his own standards. Evan kept his gaze pinned on Barty, standing by the door. He was wearing Barty’s hoodie. Had he worn it when he kissed him? Barty hoped so. It was probably sadistic, but that was just who he was.

The thought of someone touching Evan like that messed with Barty to no end, but the thought that he hadn't told him was worse. 

'Why didn't you tell me?’ He had to know, wouldn't take some lame excuse. This was not normal for them. Barty hated not being in on Evan’s every move. He was obsessed.

Evan clearly felt bad, a look falling on his face. He moved to sit on the bed, Barty followed in suit, wanting to be beside the boy, be able to touch him.

‘I didn't know how you would react. I didn't want you to hate me.’ The admission was painful, it stung, and Barty wanted to disagree, that he would never react badly to it, but he would, he did. Evan had every right to be scared. But the second part, that was just crazy.

'Don't fucking say that shit to me. I could never hate you. Sorry I reacted badly.’ Barty let his hand push Evan into the mattress, his hand coming to brush Evan’s locks from where they had fallen over his eyes. 

Barty had him caged between his arms, leaning over him, his own hair falling down between them, as he stared into Evan’s deep brown eyes. Evan had such pretty, brown eyes. Barty was never very good at holding back. 

‘You have the prettiest eyes ever.’ Evan smirked at him, all teeth and scrunched nose, his dimples coming out. God. 

'I don't like that he saw you like this.’ Because Barty had a good thing, of course he had to ruin it by saying something like that. It clearly didn't sit well with Evan, who pushed Barty's arms away from him, causing him to collapse in a heap on their mattress. 

‘Fuck off. You can touch whoever you want. Why can't I?’ Oh. So that was what it was about. Evan had fucking kissed someone, just to one up Barty. The idea that Evan would throw away something that important for a jealousy contest with Barty, was both infuriating and exhilarating.

‘So you did it because I kiss people? Evan, that is so stupid,’ Barty rolled into his side, deciding to look at Evan's side profile instead of their ceiling. He could see Evan getting frustrated with Barty’s comments, but Barty never backed down, ‘It was so important to you. Why would you throw it away like that, with someone who doesn't even care about you? He probably had no idea what a big deal it was.’ Barty was being pathetic, he was literally pouting, but he was upset. 

And Evan’s number one priority was clearly not easing Barty’s mind, as with every reply Barty felt himself getting more wound up. ‘I wanted to, that should be enough reason Barty.’ Because here Evan was, lying. 

How could that ever be enough reason? Barty couldn't think what to reply. It seemed so obvious to Barty, like the easiest thing in the world, that Evan shouldn't have kissed this random guy. This nice guy. 

So when Evan stood to leave, go back to their friends and abandon Barty lying on their queen sized bed, Barty had to rush to say something. To keep Evan where he could see him, and where he could love him. The haste fucked Barty over, as he spoke without thinking. 

‘You didn't let him touch you, did you?’ 

And that was definitely the wrong thing to say, Evan froze, with his hand still on the door handle, head hanging and scoffed indignantly. Barty regretted it the second he spoke, but when Evan turned to face him, he looked Barty in the eyes again, looking down at Barty on the bed, an irritated glint caught on his face, Barty felt like maybe it was worth it. If he could keep Evan with him, looking at him, and even if he looked at Barty like he wanted to hit him, at least his hands were in touching distance. Barty was fucked. 

‘God, Barty! What the fuck is wrong with you?’ Evan was yelling, and Barty, the idiot, was smiling. Their friends could probably hear them in the next room, and Barty didn't care. ‘Why the fuck should you care about who touches me? Huh?’ Evan was asking him, it wasn't rhetorical, but to Barty it might as well have been, because that question was moronic. 

‘Who am I? Evan, don't act like I am not me. I am the most important person in your life. And why do I care? Because.’ 

‘That is not a fucking answer, so I will ask again. Why. Do. You. Care?’ Evan annunciated every word. Evan was standing over him still, at first it was enough for Barty, but if he had to face this unnecessary yelling, he was going to need some kind of consolation prize, so he stood, wrapped his hand around Evan’s wrist. Evan didn't move it away, so, you know. Small victories.

‘Ev, I just.’ Okay, maybe Barty had a small problem with trying to explain why he cared, because truthfully, why did he? It was hard to explain why he was so upset by it, because in order to do so, he would have to explain their relationship, and that was an impossible task. ‘You are my favourite person. I love you. I want you to be with me forever. And I don't want some nice guy called Matt, who doesn't care about you the way I do, coming in here and messing that up.’ 

That was what Barty managed to say, he could have gone on for longer, about how he needed to keep Evan safe, how he didn't want Evan to get hurt, how if anyone hurt Evan, he would have to hurt them back. That went unspoken, he was sure Evan knew. 

‘Barty…’ Evan sighed, and Barty was whining at the tone, he didn't want to argue, he wanted to just hug, make up, and fall asleep in each other arms. ‘What about me? I love you too, but you have other people, people who you touch.’ Evan sounded sad, and. Oh, how Barty hated that sound. Evan sounding angry, that was just hot, but Evan sounding sad, that was like being tied to an electric fence, it hurt.

‘It isn't the same. I don't care about them, not like I care about you. You know that.’ Barty was whining again. He needed this over.

‘It is the exact same.’ Evan stated. ‘No. It isn't. You care about it, you need to like the person, I don't, in fact I make a point of not liking them. I don't need them for that, I have you. But I do need sex.’ 

That was it, what it all came down to. Evan and Barty weren't dating, but they were together, in a way that wasn't really understandable from outside perspective. 

‘Why do you need sex from them.’ It wasn't really a question, it was a complaint. But Barty knew if he didn't explain himself, there would be a rift between them, and whenever that happened, it killed Barty from the inside out. 

‘Because. You know I can't get it anywhere else.’ It once again went unspoken, what he meant. He couldn't get it from Evan. That was the problem. Barty knew Evan, knew him like the back of his hand. He couldn't do it with Evan. He had never asked, but he had made it more than clear that he was attracted to the boy. 

‘You could.’ 

Barty sighed. He hated doing this. Hated making Evan feel like he wasn't his top priority, when he was. ‘Not from who I want, I can't.’ Barty was tired, he was rubbing circles into the skin of Evan's wrist, and they were growing lazy, as he grew more and more upset with their conversation. Barty hated being reminded that he couldn't have Evan, not in the way he wanted him, at least. Because most of the time, Barty could trick himself, only sleep with blondes, only kiss boys with septum piercings, so he could close his eyes, feel the metal on his face, and pretend. 

‘You could, though. You never asked.’ Evan insisted, lifting his hand, with Barty’s hand in tow, still clinging to his wrist, up to brush his hair from his eyes. Most people would let go of his wrist as he dragged it away. Barty wasn't most people. Instead, as Evan’s fingers brushed in between his locks, so did Barty’s. Eventually replacing Evan’s own, to bring a hand behind Evan’s neck. He could feel the warmth radiating off his tanned skin. 

‘Evan. You don't mean that, please don't do this.’ It was hurting him, to have this thing that he craved waved in front of his eyes, teasing, just out of reach. 

‘Why have you never asked?’ Evan was staring at him, emotionless and unwavering. His heavy dark eyelashes circling around his pools of dark brown, captivating. 

‘I didn't think you wanted me to.’ Barty was breathless, the words coming from Evan were literally life changing, being handed to him as though it was everyday small talk. Evan was so unbothered, he clearly didn't mean it, Barty told himself. 

Barty stroked the hairs that trailed down the back of Evan's neck, the soft curls. Evan just blinked at him. 

‘Barty it has only ever been you. You know that. I don't want anybody else. Ever.’ Oh. That was…

That was perfect. That was potentially the best thing he had ever heard. Evan was his. 

It sounded right to Barty, Evan being his, and him being Evan’s. He tested it on his tongue. 

'You're mine.’ It was almost a question, not quite a statement. 

‘Always have been.’ 

Barty knew this, deep down, he knew this. 

‘You know what this means?’ It was a heavy question, loaded with follow-on questions and secret meanings, hidden messages for just the two of them to encrypt. 

Evan didn't reply, so Barty took the liberty to do so for him. ‘Nobody else. Ever.’ 

Evan nodded wordlessly, falling into step easily. Just as it seemed the world around them went quiet, Barty’s phone rang. A loud, obnoxious ringer, that Barty set himself to annoy those around him. Barty had never been annoyed by it before, he always found it funny, regardless of the situation. He decided then that he would change it, that it wasn't funny anymore.

‘Who is it?’ Evan sounded dejected, Barty rushed to hang up and ignore the rude interruption, when he noted the name. Beth. A girl he had been hooking up with, pretty regularly for over 3 months. She was one of the only people who he had slept with more than once, usually cutting them off after one time. Beth was unique, however. She had bleach blonde hair, roots coming in, but left there intentionally. Piercings and a few horrible tattoos. Just how Barty liked them.

So when Barty glanced at the photo she had set herself as on his phone, he couldn't prevent a small smile coming on his face. Evan was close to him, so close, in fact, that the tiny smile didn't go unchecked. Evan rolled his eyes, took in the sight of Beth on Barty’s screen, and pushed past him, heading straight to the door. 

‘No, Evan, don't go!’ Barty rushed out, pulled from his thoughts as he felt the arm shove against his side. 

‘You gonna see her again?’ He said unflinching, still stalking towards the door, not even turning to face Barty. Barty wasn't sure what the correct answer to that was, which in itself was the incorrect one. So Evan left him. Opened their door and closed it behind him wordlessly. He didn't wait for Barty to stop him, just kept going. 

Barty started at the wall, his phone was still ringing pathetically, the noise properly pissing him off with every passing second. He really shouldn't pick up. He knew that. But Evan was annoyed at him, and Barty was drunk, which meant he wanted someone. So he acted stupidly, letting the phone ring once more, before pulling it to his ear and letting the girl's voice ring through. 

She spoke about a party, a couple of friends, something or other. Honestly Barty wasn't really paying attention. He was still standing in their room, staring at the door. He replied periodically with grunts and hums, if only to show he was still there. By the end of the call, Barty had agreed to meet her that night, at a bar, or maybe her house. He wasn't listening either way. 

He hung up, and slumped over the bed. This was always it with them. Never all the way. Barty would tease, prod and poke. Evan would push, then join, then lead. And eventually, somewhere along the line, right before anything could make sense, it would stop. Always something. 

An ambulance, or a sneeze, or a phone call. It never ended well. They would ignore each other for a couple of hours, before falling right back to where they were before, unable to be apart. 

It was as much Evan as it was him, they were one and the same. Both simultaneously aching for a better outcome, and being the reason they didn't achieve it. The cycle was getting old, but it remained perpetuated by decisions, easy decisions that Barty found himself making over and over again, because it was a simpler process than changing his ways. Like Beth. And like all the other people who he slept with. 

They were bad habits he just couldn't seem to kick, made even more addictive by the fact that the prize of Evan, wasn't always guaranteed. It was taken from between his grasp time after time, and Barty found himself unable to remain patient. 

So he picked himself up, opened their door, and walked back to where everyone was. He thought that maybe people would have cared more that he left, paid him any mind. But they didn't. His return went unacknowledged. He didn't care, he was leaving anyway. Off to meet Beth. That would show him. 

Except, it wouldn't, because Evan wasn't there. Barty looked around the room, seeking him out, but he wasn't there. He would see him straight away, and he wasn't there. 

‘He went to Matt’s.’ Dorcas had noticed him looking around, and answered his silent question. She was standing to his left, he hadn't noticed her. 

He went to Matt’s. Well. That wasn't fair. His neck cracked as he whipped it around, facing the tall girl. ‘What?’ He hoped he heard wrong. 

‘Barty, do you want to know something funny?’ No. He didn't, but he had a sneaking suspicion he would hear it anyways, if the look on Dorcas’ face was anything to go by. ‘Evan told me about his date. Not you.’ That wasn't funny, Barty thought. ‘Do you want to know why?’ Once again, no, he did not. And once again, he heard anyway. 'Because he knew you would do this.’ The words hurt, he had already heard them that night, from Evan, but the fact that Dorcas knew all of it as well, made him feel out of the loop in his own life.

'I don't fucking care.’ Barty scoffed, he didn't have to deal with this, he could just go, find Beth who was undoubtedly waiting for him, in a too-short-skirt and tempting perfume. He couldn't, though. He needed to know. 

‘Where are they?’ The question was inevitable, but asking it was still pitiful. Dorcas only made it worse, Barty felt ashamed by his own volition, but Dorcas was clearly judging him, and that only added fuel to the fire. ‘Why should I tell you?’ It was a fair question, because he knew as well as Dorcas did, what telling him would result in. Barty would storm over there, stop them from doing anything, end up fighting with Evan, and ultimately make everyone upset. And he would do it anyway, if it meant Evan wasn't with fucking Matt. And if he was going to do it, he was going to need the address.

So he did what he never did. 

‘Please.’ 

The words tasted sour on his tongue. Barty hated saying please, it was like wearing a dunce's hat, in his opinion. Begging, not exactly his style. Yet sadly, he needed that address. The words shocked Dorcas as much as they shocked himself. 

‘Ha!’ A mocking laugh. ‘You genuinely said please. That's insane, you must really want it.’ She was teasing him, and he knew it, but he refused to give into her, instead holding strong. He was going to get that fucking address. 

‘Dorcas. Give me the address.’ 

‘No.’

‘Dorcas.’ His voice was warning. Barty was terrifying on his best days, so when he needed to use it to his advantage, he could be frankly horrible. 

‘What are you going to do with it?’ Barty had had enough of these stupid questions tonight. Dorcas knew what he was going to do with the address, as much as she knew the address itself. Barty gave her a steely look, as if to say as much. 

Finally, she gave a resounding sigh, giving in. It was no use holding something away from Barty, especially when it came to Evan. He would always get it in the end. It was just a matter of how long you could hold him off. 

‘He lives in The Greens, number 35.’ Barty knew it well, a block of apartments just off campus, coined ‘The Greens’ around campus, because the built in shutters were all painted a horrific green shade. 

That was all Barty needed to hear before heading to the door. 

‘Be nice to him, Barty!’ Dorcas’ voice sounded behind him. 

‘I’m always nice to Evan.’ He replied easily, opening the door, turning to smile a goodbye at her, but she wasn't smiling back at him. 

‘Matt! Not fucking Evan..’ Her voice trailed off behind him as he shut the door and ran down the stairs. 

Be nice to Matt. He had to laugh at that. As if. Matt would probably be nice to him, Barty thought. Evan had said as much. 

The thought made Barty angry, all he had to go off was the stupid name, Matt, and the fact he was nice. Nobody was nice, that was a fact. Nobody called people nice anymore. Nice was a placeholder, a filler compliment, that really just translates to boring. This guy was boring. That was what Evan had meant, it had to. 

Barty had no idea what his plan of action was as he stormed down the road towards The Greens. He couldn't just walk in. The idea of knocking on the door infuriated him, the idea that Evan was behind a door, would look at him through the peephole, letting the wooden panel separate them. He would knock it down if that happened. 

It was late enough, dark sky, but in their busy city it was never dark. The streetlights, open shops and restaurants, and roads rammed with cars. Their apartment was situated amongst the nightlife, a loud, bustling hub of people, just the way Evan and Barty liked it. 

They would spend hours on their balcony, leaning over and laughing at the people they saw, chain-smoking cigarettes, and laughing to each other. They would stay out there, even as it began to rain, letting themselves get soaked, watching as their hoodies both changed colours with water, and then it was a challenge, who could stay out the longest. They would both end up sick, cackling to each other as they showered off, then slipping into bed beside each other. 

Barty would do it over and over again, knowing it was reckless, because afterwards, when he and Evan were laying in between each other's arms, legs tangled, hair damp, he was still warm. So it didn't matter to him if he got a cold, because he always had Evan, to make him better. 

As Barty walked down the street, he lit a cigarette, he was stress smoking, a bad habit that he picked up during A-Levels, but he was stressed, so it was only fair. As he was nearing The Greens, he was feeling like shit. The city, it carried more than just their home. It was also a memory book, a photo album, collecting all of their life together into one place. And now Evan was there with someone else. It wouldn't do.

The Greens had always been ugly, like, infamously ugly. Everyone knew it as the worst accommodation available. That made Barty smile. If he had nothing on Matt, he had a home. His and Evan's home. With their own decorations, thrifted couch, empty fridge, and full bar, stocked to the brim with any alcohol you could imagine. Barty had that. He hoped it was enough.

35. Ugly number, he decided. Evan and Barty were 68, a fact they both hated, because they were so fucking close. But it was somehow perfect for them, always so close, yet never quite there. Barty would change it. He didn't like being second best, never had. Only child syndrome, Evan would say. Barty would vehemently disagree, but he knew deep down that Evan was correct. Evan probably knew Barty better than he knew himself.

There were a few people that went to their university standing outside of The Greens, and Barty was sure he heard someone call his name, but the voice didn't belong to Evan, so he didn't even bother checking, instead pushing into the entrance, and running up the stairway. Barty hadn’t checked a map, but 35 had to be on the third floor, so he sprinted up and pushed the heavy door of floor 3 open, to walk around and check for Evan. 

‘Evan!’ He tested, just in case. Barty checked the closest door to him, 212. Right, so he definitely wasn't on the right floor. He groaned loudly, flipping off some guy who came to check out the noise of Barty’s yell. He didn't have time for niceties. Barty tried to do some mental maths, figure out what 35 could possibly mean, but his head was spinning at every lost second holding him and Evan apart. A second where Evan could be doing God knows what. Barty couldn't think, he just went to the reception, this was going to get him nowhere if he didn't know. 

‘Where is room 35?’ He asked the first woman he saw, she jumped slightly at the loud noise from behind her, clearly not hearing him on the approach. When the woman turned to face him, she just nodded at the map on the wall. Barty groaned. Why could nobody make his life easy? 

35, his finger tracing over the page on the wall, eyes darting furiously over it to try and find it. Where the fuck was it? A voice pulled him out of his stupor, finally a voice worth hearing. 

‘What are you doing here?’ The voice was annoyed, but it was deep in all the right places, it was raspy, and light. It was Evan, Barty didn't need to turn to tell, but he did anyway, wanting to see the blonde. ‘Evan, You’re here! Thank fuck.’ Barty stalked over to Evan, paying no mind to the man beside him. 

‘Barty, what are you doing here?’ He continued, refusing to acknowledge Barty’s words. 

‘Taking you home. C’mon, Ev, let’s go, please.’ Barty whined. Evan was the only person Barty had no problem saying please around, his walls collapsing. He could be vulnerable around him with ease, Evan made him feel safe, for once. Barty had his hands on his hips, a hefty smile, his shitty posture making him appear Evan’s height. Barty wanted to grab Evan’s wrist, one of his favourite parts of Evan, but it was preoccupied, a hand was in Evan’s. Evan was holding hands with someone. The sight set Barty off, he looked up to see who was daring to touch Evan like that, and the face was one he couldn’t recognise, not that if Barty had seen him before he would have remembered, this guy had a serious case of dull. 

It was Matt, undoubtedly. And the sight was pathetic, Evan holding hands with some guy, shorter than Barty, less built than Barty. No tattoos, Evan would hate that, and his hair was falling over his eyes. Barty let out a disbelieving laugh at the sight. No way, there was no fucking way, that Evan found this guy attractive. This guy was the human equivalent of rye bread or some shit like that. 

The guy was staring at him, mouth hanging lightly open, and a wave of joy rushed over Barty at that. This guy had no fucking idea what he had gotten himself into. Evan could do a pretty decent job of hiding his insanity when he needed to, keeping it in, letting it run wild around Barty, but always more subdued. It wasn't like he forced himself to be quiet, he just naturally liked it like that, besides Barty would fill the noise. But Barty couldn't fake it, he saw no need. What could he get out of the guy from faking, that he couldn't also get by just scaring him? So he let his head hang high, shoulders straightening, and standing at full height. This guy thought he could fuck with what was rightfully Barty’s, then Barty would put him through his runnings, make sure he was crying and begging him to stop by the end. 

It was the only way Barty could be sure he wouldn't try to come running back to Evan. 

‘Matt. Heard very little about you, if I’m honest.’ Barty didn't look at Evan, this was no longer about Evan. This was about Barty, he sized the man up, jaw twitching subconsciously. 

‘You must be Barty, Sadly, I cannot say the same.’ His voice was sarcastic, and that made Barty bark out a laugh, cause this guy really wanted to do this. To test Barty. He had no idea what was going to hit him. 

‘That’s nice, guess even when you are trying to leave me, you can’t quite shake me, right Evie?’ He turned to Evan with that, gaze instinctively softening when he laid eyes on the blonde's fuming glare. Barty was going to get it when they got back, but he didn't care, as long as he had Evan back in their home. They couldn't avoid each other, their reunion was always inevitable, even after mere minutes. 

‘Fuck off, Barty. Where is Beth, huh?’ Evan let go of Matt’s hand, to shove Barty harshly back towards the wall, and the relief that washed over Barty at feeling Evan’s long fingers on him was incalculable. He let his hands wrap over where Evan was touching him, keeping them in place on his chest. 

‘Let’s go.’ Barty was smiling stupidly at Evan, fondly, like Evan was the only thing he could see. He pretty much was, Matt unnoticeable as he stood to the side, watching their half-fight-half-hug go down, unsure of what to do. 

‘Don’t tell him what to do, man. You need to back off.’ A hand was wrapping around Evan’s waist, and Barty saw red. That was such a stupid thing to do, Barty thought. He wished Matt hadn’t done that, because he didn't want to do what he did next, but he had to. Principle, or something like that. 

Evan knew it was going to happen, the second he felt the hand on him, and he didn't step in. In a way, he was as much at fault for it as Barty.

The punch was so quick, there was no way Matt saw it before he felt the pain, because Barty could throw a mean punch. It had to hurt. It certainly looked painful, with red spewing down the guys face, hands clutching to stop the bleeding to no avail. Barty didn't feel bad, not in the slightest, it was what he deserved. Evan was furious, his jaw dropped, and hands immediately going to Matt, helping him with the bleeding, asking if he was okay. All things someone nice would do, but Evan wasn't nice, and Barty knew that. Evan didn't care if this guy bled out on the floor in front of them, he wouldn't bat an eyelid. There was no doubt in Barty’s mind that Evan was putting on this caring act, just to annoy Barty. 

He was attempting to defy him, to show that his loyalties lay elsewhere, but it didn't bother Barty, not when it was such a weak attempt. Barty rolled his eyes at Matt’s girlish cries, his whimpers, he was probably fucking crying. He had to actively stop himself from laughing at the display of weakness. 

‘You have no fucking right to touch him!’ Evan let go of Matt after checking one too many times if he was alright, and turned to Barty, hands on the collar of his shirt to shove him into the wall. 

‘He touched you, that makes it my right.’ Barty smirked, the fucker was enjoying this. And though Evan appeared to be seething, Barty reckoned there was a part of him, a part that he had to hide from people like Matt, that was fucking rejoicing in it. 

‘You have a serious problem Barty! I am not yours, get that through your fucking head.’ With every other word, Barty was shoved against the wall, head knocking into the brick with searing pain. Despite the throbbing on Barty’s skull, he still found time to laugh at that, ‘not yours’. The notion was nonsensical, it was absurd, and somehow Evan had maintained a straight face as he said it. He was being serious. 

‘We both know that’s a lie.’ That did it, the straw that broke the camels back, Evan shucked his arm behind him, reeling it in, and punching Barty firmly over the nose. A solid punch, Barty would hope so too, seeing as he taught Evan how to throw one. The pain was instant, as was the blood that dribbled down his face, into his open mouth, smearing over his teeth, where they showed, still fucking smirking. 

After everything, Barty was still fucking smirking. Barty looked down at Evan through hooded lids, his tongue darting out to lick the blood up, and has hands going to rest on Evan’s waist. 

HIs blood had splattered onto Evan’s tanned skin, a stark contrast, and Barty thought that Evan had never looked better. He said as much, ‘You look good, you know, covered in my blood.’ The words rolled off his tongue, deep, raspy voice. It was an intimate, borderline seductive tone. 

Evan was already dripping with red, but at that, his cheeks fanned a darker shade of it, peachy, rosie. ‘I always love when you blush, it just makes sense, Rosie being rosie.’ Barty was piling it on now, he knew he had won, Evan had been staring at Barty for minutes, hadn't even turned to check on fucking Matt, still bleeding in the corner. He had him, and it was his turn to keep him. 

‘Shut up.’ It was feeble. Evan was smiling now too, granted he at least had the decency to try and pretend he wasn’t, but he was. Barty saw his dimple appearing, he wanted to bite him.

‘Let’s go.’ And Evan pretended to consider it, finally looking over to Matt, who seemed to begin to understand, he had no chance, he was never going to win. 

‘You are both fucking psychotic,’ The words were spat at them, bewildered tone at the insane behaviour he was witnessing. ‘You two are made for eachother, have fucking fun, crazy and crazier..’ And with that Matt was off, trailing up the stairs, nose still clutched between shaky fingers.

Evan didn't bother saying goodbye, as he watched the man leave. He turned back to Barty after seconds, Matt’s body still lingering in the room as he did so. 

‘You enfuritate me.’ 

‘You love it.’ Evan rolled his eyes, but didn’t try to disagree with him, knowing it was no use. 

Barty took Evan’s face in his, pulling it towards his. When Evan was within an inch distance, Barty stuck his tongue out, darting it over Evan’s face, laughing as he felt Evan push against him. He let the taste of iron enter his mouth as he cleaned Evan’s face of his blood. It felt invigorating, having Evan like this under him. Evan was still fussing, as Barty covered the expanse of his face, complaining about how it was ‘gross’. 

It was anything but gross. If anything, it was romantic, Barty decided. Who else would do this for him? Matt certainly wouldn't. He needed Evan to understand that. 

‘Nobody else would do this for you, just me. You should be thanking me.’ He said proudly between licks, pulling off to see Evan’s clean face, and a beaming expression. 

‘Thanks.’ It was completely sarcastic, but that would have to do. Barty wanted to leave, being so close to Matt was bringing down his mood, so he shifted his hand from his waist to Evan’s hand, and dragged him towards the door.

The walk was silent, Barty sniffing every ten seconds to drag some blood up his nose, and prevent it from dripping everywhere, but other than that, the only noise was the city. Evan and him kept their hands together, it was a long day, they needed the comfort. As they rounded hte corner to their apartment, Evan stopped walking, his hand holding Barty back as well. 

‘What?’ Barty turned to face the blonde, but Evan wasn’t looking at him, Barty followed his gaze to where it was planted, on a girl in front of their doorway, she was clicking the buzzer to get in repeatedly, from where they were stood they could see she was huffing in annoyance. Barty recognised her instantly. 

‘What is she doing here?’ Evan didn't look away from her, his stare was stern. 

‘Doesn’t matter.’ Barty brushed off, moving to block Evan’s view, forcing the blonde to look at him instead, their hands still intertwined. But Evan promptly dropped his hand. 

‘It does, tell me you weren't going to hook up with her.’ It was a command, a command Barty wishes he could follow, but he couldn't lie to Evan, he would know and it would only make him more upset. So instead he launched into explaining himself, justifying himself, ‘Look, she called me, and I just agreed cause we were fighting. I will send her away now, I don't need her.’ 

Evan didn't even listen to his explanation all the way through, instead walking up to the girl. He yelled the girl's name, drawing her attention, and began speaking with her about something that Barty was too far to be able to hear. She hadn't spotted him yet, and a part of Barty wanted to take that as a sign to just leave, to walk away, and not deal with it. But Evan was there, and he wanted to be with Evan, so he took a steely breath, hands in his pockets, and walked over.

Once Beth had spotted him, she began bellowing at him, it sounded loud and aggravated, but Barty was not paying her mind, not with Evan stood behind her, crossed arms, looking at the catfight with a pleased expression. He did this, Evan had instigated this, and Barty knew he deserved it, but that didn't mean it isn't any less stressful to deal with. 

Giving Evan a swift middle finger for the hassle, before tuning into Beth’s yelling. 

‘-annot keep doing this! You are leading me on!’ Barty interjected, not wanting the girl to work herself into a frenzy. 

‘Beth, you need to relax. I haven't been honest with you, and I’m sorry.’ The girl paused at that, clearly not expecting Barty to apologise, but Barty wasn't done, ‘But, you can't expect me to be at your heel all day, to come and go as you please!’ 

That pissed her off, the second the words left his mouth she was off again, screaming at him about his actions, how he made her feel. Barty had never considered that Beth might actually like him. He didn't like her, so it seemed obvious she would feel the same.

Evan was doing an awful job of hiding his amused grin, and huffs of laughter at what she was saying. He was clearly getting kicks out of watching the girl pine over someone so unattainable. So out of reach, from everyone except Evan. 

Evan almost felt bad that he had started it by telling the girl that Barty was coming back from the club. He lied, but she didn't need to know that. He was going to calm the situation down, when Barty spoke through her cry's. 

‘Look, Beth, it would never work out anyway. Me and Evan are engaged.’ 

Jesus. Why he had said that, Barty had no idea. At least it shut Beth up for a moment. ‘What?’ It was an expected response, seeing as Barty had fully lied. 

‘Yeah, we have been keeping it under wraps because I am technically still legally married to my ex-wife.’ Barty continued, because why would he ever make a situation easy for himself?

Evan stood jaw dropped. He had nothing to say to Barty's preposterous claim, it was bullshit, through and through. But Barty thought that if Evan had lied to Beth and got him into this fight in the first place, it was only right if he got him involved as well. 

Barty gave him a pointed look, trying to display his thoughts to Evan through a simple blink of an eye. Evan knew instantly, because of course he did. And he could tell Evan wanted to disagree, to go against Barty, but he loved it too much. 

They both did, the thrill of it, lying together, manipulating. Fucking others up for their own twisted enjoyment. Beth would never know better, she was probably better off believing this anyway, than knowing that Barty didn't like her simply because she wasn't Evan, at least, that was what the two boys would tell themselves, if a wave of guilt ever washed over them. It was unlikely, though.

‘Yep.’ That was the only bit of help Barty was getting from Evan, but it was enough to let Beth grow silent, her eyes glossed over. She was crying. Shit.

‘I'm sorry I didn't tell you.’ Barty stroked her shoulder as she cried, but she shoved it off, wiping her tears, and looked at him. 

‘You are the worst person I have ever met, Barty Crouch. You ruin people, and I don't know how you can live with yourself.’ She was still crying, sniffing, but trying to put on a brave face. The words should have been hurtful, should have made Barty rethink his actions, but they didn't. He already knew.

He did, ruin people, that was. It was what he did, for years he had got off on hurting people, before they could hurt him. A defence mechanism, he tried to better himself, to grow, but it was fruitless. 

Maybe he would have tried harder, given it a real go, but he never needed to. Because no matter what he did, how much he fucked up, Evan was there, waiting with open arms. Never judging. That was all Barty ever needed, so why would he change?

So he just hummed in agreement, watching as she stormed off, still wiping at her tear stained cheeks. 

‘Hate to see her go, but love to watch her leave.’ He chuckled to Evan when he stood beside him. 

'Jesus, you are fucked.’ Despite the words, Evan laughed too. ‘So, fiancé, huh?’ He spoke with a grin, tongue poking the skin of his cheek out. 

‘You would marry me. If I asked, you would.’ It wasn't a question, because Barty knew the answer. Evan would always say yes. Evan didn't need to answer, so he didn't. The two pulled their eyes away from where the girl had left moments before, and just headed into their apartment. 

They took the lift, climbing 6 flights of stairs was a very ambitious task. The moment the door closed, Evan pushed Barty against the mirrored glass wall, hand cupping his face. 

Barty raised a questioning eyebrow, ‘Gotta return the favour.’ Was all Evan said, before he swiped a wet movement over Barty’s lip, where the nosebleed had collected. Barty didn't even bother covering up the moan that fell from his lips.

Up until that point, Barty had forgotten about his nose, the blood, the punch. As Evan swiped a lick over his cheek, Barty was grateful for the punch. Otherwise, he wouldn't get the reward. If Evan was the reward, Barty would take a thousand punches. If Evan licking him was the reward, Barty would… Well, Barty would probably die.

The feeling of Evan pulling away from his cheek was worse than the hit itself, but the sight of Evan, tongue stuck out with a smile, and red pooled on the top of it, that was better. Barty couldn't help himself, he needed it. So he took it, never one for self-restraint.

He wasn't even really kissing Evan, more just licking him. Their tongues were outside of their mouths where they met, before Barty pushed deeper and went for his mouth. It was probably the wrong order of kissing, usually lips then tongue, but that was just them. Evan was in his grip, baring teeth throughout. This was what Barty wanted, the feeling of Evan on his tastebuds. They were kissing.

The thought suddenly hit Barty that this wasn't Evan’s first kiss, and the thought only made him push deeper, harder. He couldn't turn back time, but he could erase the wounds. He would lick them closed, if he had to. 

‘Bet Matt didn't kiss you like this.’ He spoke directly into Evan’s mouth. Evan swallowed them with a groan of his own. ‘Bet he kissed you all nice.’ As Barty spat the last word out, he bit down on Evan’s lip, hard. 

The taste of his own blood on Evan had long faded, swiftly replaced by Evan’s own. They were messy, disgusting, covered in spit, and blood. It was perfect. 

When Barty tried to speak again, another dig about fucking Matt on the top of his tongue, Evan shut him up. Evan’s hand gripped into Barty’s dark waves, and pulled them harshly. The feeling egged Barty on, turning to twist Evan against the glass, leverage himself over the blonde, and slot a knee between his legs. 

Evan was rutting against him, and it felt like heaven being served on a silver platter. Evan was beautiful, under him, in his hold. 

‘Fuck Barty, don't stop.’ As if. 

As if Barty could ever stop. 

He didn't want to pull away for even a second to voice this, instead he let his thumb swipe under Evan’s shirt. A white, ripped, slightly cropped cotton t-shirt. It was so plain, but somehow Evan made it look like the finest designer fabric, could cost thousands and Barty would pay. The crop was minuscule, just enough to leave a thin trace of skin showing, muscular, toned, skin.

And the band of Evan's boxers would show, that was Barty’s favourite part. Especially when Evan wore Barty’s boxers. It was only natural, they shared a room, shared half a wardrobe. So of course, periodically, they would mix up underwear. And it was Barty’s favourite part of the week.

Evan arched off the wall, into the rough touch. Barty made his thumb press into the skin, nail slightly scratching. 

This was what Barty had waited his whole life for, he wasn't going to do it halfway. And it wasn't sudden, no pin dropped, it was just them, in the same lift they use everyday, crossing lines that had been put up for over a decade. It didn't feel like a shock, instead a wave of relief, a weight of his shoulders. Barty wasn't scared of what was to come next, he knew it would be easy, it would be fun. He couldn't wait, if anything. 

Just them, in the same lift they use everyday. 

‘I fucking knew it!’ 

Screaming, yelling, was that… a shoe… hitting Barty across the head?

Barty didn't want to pull away, but he had to, this interruption was stopping him from kissing Evan. As he did, his eyes took in Evan, covered in his spit, his blood. He looked gorgeous. 

In doing so, he was forced to look at the view behind him. All of their friends, stood outside the lift, watching them, screaming at them. So, apparently it wasn't just them. When the fuck had they stopped? Barty swore he didn't feel it slow down, but, granted, he was pretty preoccupied.

‘Fuck off.’ Barty couldn't say whether he or Evan said that, he didn't care. He ignored the screams that came even louder, not even gracing his friends with an acknowledgment, just reaching to the shut doors button, and resuming. The trail of spit between the two of them, acting as a map of where Barty was meant to go. 

‘We gonna have so much shit to explain later.’ Evan mumbled between kisses, long, languid kisses.

‘Don’t care,’ Barty was more focused on trying to get Evan to make that noise again, his friends were the least of his worries. 'This is all I care about.’ 

It was true, had been true for his whole life. ‘Same.’ Although Barty knew it, hearing it felt good. Like, really good. Like, shit, he was hard, good.

‘Happy to see me, Barty?’ Evan was smirking. And Barty was the happiest he had ever been, fuck, why had they never done this before? 

Oh. It hit him then, they had never done this before, because Evan had never wanted to. Evan didn't do this, and Barty, caught up in his own pleasure, had failed to consider this. He pulled away like he had been burned, how could he have been so stupid. 

Barty rushed to speak, ignoring the annoyed noise Evan made at the abrupt stop, ‘Fuck, Ev, I am so sorry. I completely forgot.’

‘What the fuck are you talking about?’ Evan leaned back in, trying to reconnect their mouths. 

'You don't do this, don't do sex.’ Barty put a hand on Evan’s chest, as much as it hurt him to do so. 

'That's so stupid, considering I am literally doing this right now!’ He leaned back in again, but Barty was persistent. 

‘Evan, you don't want to sleep with me.’ 

‘Barty, if you would listen to me for one second, I do want to fucking sleep with you!’ 

Oh. Oh. 

Evan was blushing, terribly so. His face was a deep pink shade, cheek to check, and oh. 

Barty was going to use this to his full capability, he leant in, caught Evan’s ear between sharp teeth, and whispered, that same, delirious tone, ‘You want me to fuck you, Evie?’ The phrase was downright provocative, and he had no doubt it had its desired effect on Evan, when the boy tightened a grip on Barty’s neck, squeezing, and pulling him into his mouth once more.

The second their lips touched, Barty felt at home, as though he was destined to exist between Evan. There was a ding sound in the lift, but the two were so encapsulated in their own world, that a gunshot couldn't pull them out. 

Barty needed Evan under him, always, and he was sure Evan would stay there, but he needed to be certain that they were on the same page with this, ‘Ev, I want you to be mine, forever.’ It was breathless, as he hushed the sentence for only the two of them. 

‘Please.’ It was all he needed to hear, permission of sorts, that Evan was in this as much as he was. The door of the lift was open, and when Barty heard a gasp, he quickly checked what it was. A mother and child stood there, watching them. Shit.

‘Oh, sorry.’ But he wasn't, he just clicked that stupid shut doors button once more, this time in conjunction with the floor 6 button, and let his hand come to hold Evan’s face, tightly cupping his cheeks. He let his fingers fidget with the dangly piercings on Evan's ear, a few silver droplets. There was also a long dagger earring, one that Barty had gotten Evan after a fight, he tugged on it slightly, delighting in the hiss Evan made.

The way down to their flat was quiet, Barty didn't look away from Evan once, kept a hand on him at all times, stroking his cheek. 

For the third time, the bell rang, signifying their destination. The door opened, and still stood in a huddle around the door, was their friends. When the doors opened, revealing Evan and Barty, their was a hefty amount of cheers, some groans, probably Regulus and Dorcas, but a mostly celebratory atmosphere.

‘They finally did it!’ James was cheering, running into the lift to hug the two of them inside of his arms, Evan was impassive, but Barty was frankly loving the praise, and he leaned in to the hug, using it as a chance to fully wrap Evan in a squeezing embrace. He gave James a sloppy kiss on the cheek, reveling in the annoyed groan he let out at it.

Dorcas was next to speak, ‘No more Matt, I take it?’ Which made Barty laugh aggressively, because it seemed that everyone in his life insisted upon asking stupid questions. ‘No, don't ask moronic shit like that.’ James had let go, but Barty hadn't, and as the lift started to make some incomprehensible noises, Barty decided that going up and down thrice was enough, so he dragged Evan out through the crowd of his friends before the lift could fly them around again. 

Barty had expected his friends to follow after them, with a trail of questions, demanding answers, but to his pleasant surprise, someone called out a goodbye, something about being safe, and the door shut behind them, leaving just Evan and Barty stood outside their apartment. Barty tugged some keys out of his pocket, followed by an unnecessary amount of key rings attached. Evan lifted his fingers to toy with them as they dangled where the key was stuck into the lock. 

A fluffy dice, mini skateboard, picture of Evan, Barcelona souvenir, rubber duck, and a second picture of Evan. They all collected onto one metal ring, it was lucky that it was still working, all the weight on it probably wearing it down. 

It also weighed Barty’s jeans down. Everywhere he went, his massive keys could be seen sticking out of his pocket. When he pulled them out, they jangled obnoxiously. Evan loved to play with them, so Barty would cerimoniously add new additions, just to keep him interested. 

The door clicked, and Barty pulled the keys out, chucked them into a bowl somewhere on the side, and shut the door behind him and Evan in several swift successive motions. He was being smooth, just for Evan. 

Treating this like a fucking blind date or something, trying to impress. Evan was still blushing, so Barty took it as a win. 

‘Want a drink?’ Barty was heading towards their room, stopping by the kitchen to check, but the answer was instant. 

‘No.’ 

Barty was shoved against their door, which pushed open without any resistance, and into the mattress. His hands came to Evan's waist, holding him in place. They were on eachother the second they could be, holding everywhere their hands could get hold of. 

‘Shit, Ev.’ He was panting, trying to catch his breath, and gain some kind of control over himself. It was pointless even trying, as Evan rucked his shirt over his head, revealing miles of soft skin, and that fucking nipple piercing. The one Evan had gotten during a god-forsaken house party, from a drunk girl. The one that should have gotten infected, but somehow healed perfectly. The one Barty would look at through Evan’s thin shirt material and drool over. 

It was no longer for looking only, he could at long last, touch. So he did, fingers skimming over the skin, nails dragging patterns into it. His mouth touched too, sloping over the flesh, over the piercing. He caught the cold metal between his teeth, lapped at the nipple below feverishly. 

And when Evan made that noise again. That noise. Barty found himself unable to hold back. Granted, he had said it a hundred times before, and would say it a hundred times again, but it felt different. He wanted Evan to know, know more than his actions could show. 

‘I love you.’ Barty stopped his movements on Evan's torso, instead opting to peek into his eyes, try and gage a reaction. Barty had Evan pretty much in his lap, so he had to look up through hooded lids to catch it, but Evan smirked. Always the fucking smirk. 

‘You love me, Bee?’ It was teasing, and it was scary, because he should be saying it back, instantaneously. Barty wasn't sure if he could breathe until he heard it. Luckily, he didn't wait long. 

‘I love you too, crazy.’ Evan was kissing him, thick and ungraceful, the feeling overwhelming. 

‘What was it Matt said, crazy and crazier?’ Was all Barty could say in return.