partnerships and mutual interest
Barty~
A few weeks later and Barty was itching to kiss Evan again. He was also itching to take a piss, and Evan’s infamously long hair and skin care routine was getting on his nerves.
He scurried over to his trunk, his hand searching and scouring through all the many small pockets. His fingers were met with lint and a few spare coins. There was a single striped sock. Growing even more frustrated, Barty stepped back and summoned the barrette he was looking for. It flew into his hand, and with a grin he scurried back over to the bathroom. Evan had started using more and more complex locking charms after Barty would burst in with no further warning than a shouted ‘Alohomora’, so now Barty was resorting to Muggle means.
He jammed the hair pin (a trinket he’d stolen from Pandora) into the lock, and began to twist it around. He heard the tell-tale click and his grin widened.
“Barty?” came Evan’s stern voice. He must have heard the click as well.
“I’m coming in!” announced Barty, kicking open the door before Evan could stop him. This earned him a death glare, but it was hard to take Evan seriously when his face was covered in some kind of purple scrub. “You were taking too long,” he provided in explanation.
“For once could you give me even an inch of personal space?” hissed Evan.
“Oh, you mean this personal space?” he teased, gravitating towards Evan like he was a magnet and pulling on his hair. Evan shoved him away and Barty went to go piss.
“Couldn’t you have gone to a different bathroom?” asked Evan tiredly. Barty came to join him in front of the mirror.
“But I like pissing when you’re here.”
“Shut up and wash your hands,” snapped Evan, and Barty did as he was told. He dried his hands on Evan’s back, earning himself another death glare. Barty only smiled, he was enjoying himself immensely. He usually was, Barty Crouch Jr never did anything in halves. If he was happy he was ecstatic, if he was sad he was wretched. If he was angry he was furious. Evan knew all about his anger, and the violent tantrums that accompanied that particular emotion.
“Would it kill you to wear some trousers?” groaned Evan. Barty looked down at himself, he was in a baggy school shirt and a pair of boxers.
“It would,” he answered evenly, “I would actually drop dead,” Evan rolled his eyes, turning his focus back to his nightly routine, “You don’t want to kill me, do you Rosier?”
Evan looked at him in the mirror. It was a look that said ‘I’d gladly kill you’. Barty wasn’t surprised. Suddenly Evan’s eyes changed, first to shock, then to anger.
“Is that my shirt?” he demanded. Barty looked down at himself again.
“Not sure,” he replied. He pulled the material up to his nose and breathed in the smell of the cotton. Lavender, thyme and a hint of those magic cigarettes he liked to smoke. “It’s yours,” he confirmed to an appalled Evan.
“Merlin,” breathed Evan, clearly deciding to let it go.
“You don’t want me to take it off?” suggested Barty, fingers already flying to the buttons.
“No,” groaned Evan. Barty undid a few buttons anyway, revealing some of his tattoos, a mixture of muggle and wizard ones, mostly done by Evan. Barty sidled up to him, throwing his arms around the other boy’s neck. Evan let him, bringing up a wet towel to wipe the purple stuff off his face.
“Remember the other night?” hummed Barty. Evan froze, face covered with the towel, before he wiped the last of the scrub from his face and looked at Barty in the mirror. They both knew exactly which night Barty was referencing, despite the many nights in between then and now. Despite the fact that neither of them had mentioned it until now.
“I remember,” said Evan smoothly. Barty leaned in closer, perching his chin atop Evan’s shoulder as they watched each other in the steamy glass in front of them.
“Want to do it again?”
Evan~
Evan felt his heart skip a beat and tried not to let it show. He shouldn’t have been surprised, really. Barty enjoyed kissing people, he’d enjoyed kissing Evan (or at least, that’s what Evan thought) and now Evan was right there for him. Available. Easy. A bit of fun to satisfy his bored mind. And who was Evan to refuse him? He’d enjoyed kissing Barty (of course he had, he was infatuated), and now Barty was right there for him. Available. Easy. A bit of fun to satisfy his throbbing heart.
“Yeah, alright,” agreed Evan. He turned his head sideways, so he was almost facing the other boy.
“Alright,” chuckled Barty, and he leaned in to kiss him.
It was somehow worse this time. Worse in that it was better, and better because now Evan knew what to expect. And he wasn’t just anticipating idly, he was looking forward to it. This time Barty didn’t mess around or take it slow, he grabbed Evan’s face and held him so tightly Evan wasn’t sure that he’d ever let go, not that he would’ve minded.
Evan could feel Barty’s lip rings pressed into his mouth, and soon afterwards his tongue stud. It tasted different, like mint. He must’ve charmed it that way. Barty never failed to surprise.
Evan pushed him up onto the sink. Barty weighed nothing, even if he was the taller of the pair. He wrapped his legs around Evan’s waist, pulling him closer. Evan let him. He bit at Barty’s bottom lip. The skin there was split and cracked; Barty would sooner eat lip balm than apply it. Evan would have to help him with that.
They broke apart for a moment, and Barty trailed his tongue over Evan’s own bottom lip. Evan quickly joined their mouths again. It was probably about an hour before they really broke apart again. And there was no alcohol to blame this time. Stone cold sober, the both of them.
“That was fun,” grinned Barty giddily, and then, his eyes alight with mischief, “Sure I can’t tempt you with a shag, Rosier?”
Evan’s own giddy demeanour (or as giddy as he got anyway), melted away, replaced by a resolute frown.
“Get out,” he ordered harshly. Barty… Well, he practically giggled.
“Alright then Evs,” he said sweetly, planting a quick peck on his cheek, “But you let me know if–
“Out.”
Barty left, still smiling widely. As soon as the door was closed Evan let out a frustrated sigh. It didn’t mean anything. Not a single thing. Was it so bad if he was loving every second? This was the closest he’d ever get to Barty after all. How could he possibly not help himself?
He returned to his skincare routine, making a mental note to ask Pan for a spell that could keep Barty out. Perhaps some kind of repelling charm that worked specifically on him? Anything to get Evan a second alone.