seventeen (part one)
It was weird, having Barty come home with him right after school ended. Despite the fact that it wasn’t even Barty’s first time at his house, Evan was sort of embarrassed, bringing him from their high-end boarding school to stay in his family's small house in the suburbs for a while. He knew it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, in fact Barty seemed amazed by the homey aspects of it – pictures hung all over the walls, things posted on the refrigerator, etc – but that didn’t make him forget the fact Barty grew up in a mansion, either. Several mansions.
“Oh my god,” Barty was laying across Evan’s unmade bed, flipping through an old picture album. “You were so much more blond back then – Gracie!”
Evan looked over his shoulder, met with a photo of him and Gracie, both probably three or four years old. He was super blond as a kid, like, his hair was nearly white, but it’d darkened a lot as he grew up. Gracie looked different than he remembered, too. He didn’t remember any of the years she was younger, so he always knew her with a salt-and-pepper face.
Barty flipped the page, turning around abruptly. “Is that me?”
Sure enough, there was a picture of the two of them only a few days after they first met. Evan could only tell that from the remnants of temporary tattoos splattered all over Barty’s arms. In the picture, Pandora was standing behind the two of them, arms crossed over her chest with a stern pout on her face.
Evan almost forgot about how much she hated Barty at first. He understood, seeing as he remembers despising both Xeno and Lily for a while, too (something about twin jealousy, he assumed). Still, seeing the photo evidence made it all the more. “Yep, when we were seven. Look at your tattoos.”
“Can…Can we copy this?” Barty had turned back around, eyes glued to the picture.
“There’s probably more than one in the slot, if you check behind it. Mum has multiples of everything,” Evan laid down next to him, pulling the photo out – and three other copies along with it. Barty picked one up gingerly, holding it in front of him like it’d rip any second. Evan added, “There’s more of us, and just you, in here. I think?”
Oddly, it seemed to surprise Barty, that all of the pictures Evan’s Mum was constantly taking ended up somewhere.
It made Evan’s heart ache a little, knowing first hand that the Crouch residence lacked greatly when it came to family photos. At least, photos beyond the stuffy matching outfit ones they took when Barty was a baby. Those things plastered the halls of their summer house.
Everytime there was a photo of him, Barty would look back at Evan for a split second, almost looking for some sense of approval. Evan gave a few ‘go for it’’s and nods before he began to add to his quickly growing pile on his own.
“My buzzcut,” Barty was a couple pages further, his face scrunched up while he craned his neck to look back at Evan.
In that picture, the two of them were arm and arm, beaming up at the camera with popsicle-dyed lips. They’d consumed an inhuman amount that year.
Barty pulled another copy of the photo out, stacking it on top of the other.
After they finished the first book, he made Evan grab the others, and repeated the process – ending up with a heap of every single picture he was included in.
—
A week later, Evan and Barty were ready to leave for Barty’s place. They were both right on target when they predicted his parents would want the two of them gone, it was honestly a bit offensive how eager they were when ushering them out the door.
That didn’t really matter, Evan was basically bursting at the seams in anticipation of leaving anyway.
Thankfully, over their last year at school, both he and Barty had taken a driving course and got their licences. Evan very quickly found out he despised driving, he simply wasn’t meant to make important decisions while flying down the road in the equivalent of a giant toaster. Barty didn’t really want to take the course in the first place, only being convinced when he realised he may just be asked to drive a racecar one day, but he adored it.
He drove whenever he got the chance, since Regulus had a car and couldn’t be bothered with driving it. They weren’t allowed to leave campus all that much during the school year, apart from exceptions like Hogsmeade, but whenever they were, Barty was always behind the wheel.
“Bring anything else? Seems like you packed pretty light, Ev,” Barty stood in front of the open trunk of Evan’s families station wagon (which was completely on its last limb, it was several years older than the two of them), hands on his hips.
Evan had severely overpacked. They were going to stay for at least five weeks, so he definitely needed at least three quarters of his wardrobe. Not like washing machines existed or anything. He smiled back sweetly, “Nope! I think that’s it.”
Barty grumbled something under his breath, running a hand through his hair before slamming the trunk shut. He was handling the whole idea of a road-trip the same way Evan’s dad did, with radiating stress and pre-packed snack bags in the backseat.
After a quick goodbye, they made their way towards well…wherever the house was. Evan hadn’t asked much about it, but he knew it was a bit of a drive to get there. Barty, thankfully, was on driving duty. Mostly because he somewhat knew where things were, but also because he was ‘eager to avoid Evan’s anxiety bickering’.
—
“This music sucks,” Evan whined, leaning forward for the seven hundredth time to skip the song. He could make a pretty solid guess on why he was overly anxious, messing with the music and antsy in his seat. It was difficult to not be with everything that was going on, or at least what was going on between himself and Barty. It was a one-sided situation, since Barty had been blasted on painkillers at the time that it began.
“Dude, you’ve skipped through four playlists already,” Barty glanced over at him. “Just, I dunno, take a nap or something.”
The first few seconds of Go Your Own Way filtered through the speakers, only getting a few seconds of playtime before Evan reached forward again.
This time, Barty’s hand darted out and wrapped around Evan’s, holding onto it tight. “Quit it. I like this song.”
Evan froze, completely forgetting about the music issues. Barty didn’t let him go, either, instead setting their stacked hands on top of the gear stick.
He’d been trying to not think about the whole ‘I love you’ comment from concussed Barty a bit ago, pushing it off as, well, him being concussed and drugged. It’s not like they didn’t love each other apart from that, either. They said ‘love you!’ all the time to one another, usually after doing something stupid to the other, but still.
Awkwardly, he leaned back into the seat and turned straight ahead, mumbling something resembling ‘fine, whatever’ under his breath. Every now and then, Barty’s fingers would tap across his knuckles and he’d glance over, eyes catching on the curve of his jawline and the crinkle of his eyes. He figured Barty noticed it’d make it pay attention to him, and that was the reason for the perma-grin, but he didn’t mind.
He let it be for now. There was plenty of time to dissect every bitten lip and graze of finger tips when it kept him awake that evening, and presumably, every evening afterwards.
—
They stayed the same way until their next stop at a random tourist trap. Evan loved tourist traps, he’d always been one to hold onto the trinket-y things he was given over the years. Whenever he passed by them with his parents, they never wanted to stop, so of course the two of them planned to stop at as many as possible.
Right now, they stood in front of a giant cement chicken. Barty was trying to (unsuccessfully) scale the legs of it to get on top of it, saying it would make a much better picture for Evan’s parents.
“You’re going to crack your head open,” Evan said, scratching at the back of his neck impatiently. “Again.”
“That was a moment of weakness!”
“Uh huh,” Evan watched as Barty lost his grip and slipped back down the leg, landing on his feet with a scowl. “C’mere, let’s just take a selfie or something.”
After complaining about how boring and lame and mainstream that was, Barty parked his chin on Evan’s shoulder and stole the phone to take it himself. They stared back at each other in the reflection of the phone for a moment, Evan tearing his eyes away to fuss at his hair for a second. He was starting to feel far too self-conscious than he should be.
It was just Barty. The picture was only for his parents. It was fine.
Just as he resituated himself, Barty dug his fingers into Evan’s side and took the photo. When they clicked back at it, Evan’s mouth was wide open – somewhere between a laugh and yelp – and Barty’s face was turned, watching him with a grin.
“I look so stupid,” Evan whined.
“I’m making that my lockscreen,” Barty spoke over him.
Barty held true to his word, raising the phone higher than Evan could reach to set it. When he turned the phone off and back on again to look at it, Evan felt a twinge of something he couldn’t describe.
He gave a dismissive smile, herding Barty back to the car and doing his best to shove down the tingle that ran through his chest. The worst part was that he didn’t know if he wanted to get rid of it, he was pretty sure he liked it.
—
When they got to Barty’s that night, it was nearing sunset–with stops, the drive ended up taking nearly seven hours. Due to Evan’s packing habits, it took ages for them to lug everything in, and they both plopped onto the couch with heavy breaths as soon as they were done.
The house was smaller than Evan had expected. It could probably be said that it resembled more of a flat than a house, ignoring the tall ceilings and spacious back patio. Apart from the entryway and a separate bedroom, it was completely open – the kitchen, dining room, and living room all connected to each other, with the exception of a bar counter that boxed in a section of the kitchen.
It was still very nice, absolutely fit for a Crouch, but it was much less in your face than their other summer house was. Cute, even, like it belonged in some coastal Hallmark movie.
“It’s my mothers,” Barty said after a few moments, presumably watching Evan’s eyes trail over everything. “My father, uh, doesn’t know about it. Last I checked, at least. We’d only come when he was away on long trips, but I haven’t been here in years.”
“Her parents left it to me when they died, so I guess it’s mine now. I was kind of worried it’d be a shit show when we got here,” His voice got a bit quieter, only for a second. “Must have paid for someone to come and keep up with things over the years, I guess.”
Evan slid across the couch until he was right by the window, nearly pressing his forehead against the glass to look at the water. It sat only a bit back from the rocky beach – the sound of waves crashing against the shoreline was easy to hear while inside the room. “Looks nice to me.”
He couldn’t see him, but he could sense Barty’s half smile without looking.
“Can we go swimming tomorrow?”
“Yeah, ‘course. We could go right now, if you wanted. It’s still light out.”
He wasn’t wrong, it was still light out. Just a sliver or two of the sun was left, so it’d be dark in the next twenty minutes. Evan perked up anyway, hopping over a bag and hurrying to change.
“Bring a jumper! The water’s still fucking freezing in June, you’ll be cold when we get out,” Barty yelled, more-so just loudly spoke, through the house.
After changing, Evan dug through his bags in search of one. He did forget something.
Begrudgingly, he walked over to where Barty was waiting, somehow already completely ready to go. He must’ve changed in the living room.“I don’t have a jumper.”
“No. All those bags, and not one?” Barty said, dragging his feet dramatically as he headed into the bedroom. A moment later, he came back with one of his own jumpers in his hand, the one Evan always stole to wear himself. “You’re welcome.”
Evan shot him an appreciative smile, hugging the wad of fabric against his chest and opening the backdoor before stepping onto the small patio. It was windy out, and a little damp since it rained earlier, but he still bounded down to the beach. The rocks hurt to run across, and were a tad slippery, so he did his best to avoid falling on his face.
Throwing all of his stuff onto the ground and shedding his shirt, he threw himself into the water. Barty hadn’t been lying when he said it was fucking freezing.
“Holy shit!” He yelped, giving Barty the finger when he cackled at him from the top of the beach.
Barty made his way down slowly. By the time he got into the water, Evan was already shaking like a leaf.
It didn’t take long before they were both forced to crouch so their bodies were submerged, keeping the sting of wind against cold skin away.
“Hi,” Barty said, his hair soaking wet after Evan pushed him under the water. It hung into his eyes, having grown out over the course of the school year. He looked pretty, like those models in they always have on cologne ads. The ones on the posters at the mall that you have to yank your gaze away from after staring for too long.
Yeah.
Evan wanted to push the hair out of his face desperately, his hands were practically twitching next to him. “Hi. You look,” pretty , was what he wanted to say, “funny.”
“You sure know how to charm a man, Ev,” Barty bit down on his lip, which was already growing paler from the cold water, in a weak attempt to prevent another wave of shivers going through him.
Oh, fuck him.
“It’s cold as shit,” Evan admitted, tearing his eyes away from Barty completely. After getting a splash of water into his eye, he glanced back, flinching when Barty appeared right next to him.
“Your teeth are chattering,” Barty was right, they were. It was making his brain hurt. It might have been Evan's idea to swim in the first place, but he’d forgotten to take into account how cold the ocean was early in the season – especially at night, for that matter. He’d never even been to the ocean, so Barty’s warning held no authority within his thought process. “We can go back in, you know. We have weeks to swim.”
Some part of him must have been waiting for permission, because Evan didn’t hesitate to dart out of the water as soon as the words left Barty’s mouth.
After running at full speed back to the house, and fighting over who would shower first (Evan won), they ended up right back where they started–curled into each other on the couch.
—
A week and a half later, Evan woke up with his face smushed into the mattress and half of Barty’s body sprawled on top of him.
They’d stayed up late the night before, having gone into town for dinner and roamed the streets for a few hours – bottle of wine in hand, thanks to Barty’s fake ID. Evan didn’t drink much, choosing to be the ‘designated walker’ of the two of them and staying just sober enough to be able to proficiently read directions back home.
It was a fun night, one filled with lounging atop each other, shitty pool games, and even worse karaoke when they stopped in at a bar for a few. They’d met a group of locals their own age and tagged along with them for a bit. There wasn’t much to see since it was late at night, but the both of them oohed and aahed at whatever the others pointed out.
Now, he laid frozen, his counterparts breath warm against the side of his neck, and wondered what the fuck he was supposed to do. Some switch within him had been flipped over the last few days, and he was nearly bursting at the seams every time Barty smiled at him, every time he looped an arm around Evan’s waist or even when he complained about a random character in their current TV show. It didn’t help that last night he’d pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek, either. Or that they’d held hands the majority of the night, Evan’s grip only growing stronger after one of the girls they were with (Lucy? Layla?) pointed it out with a giggle. Barty hadn’t let go, either.
After several minutes of silently stressing over the entirety of the last ten years, Evan made the educated decision that he was in need of a lobotomy. But, seeing as those are quite frowned upon, he would have to go for a run instead.
Close enough.
Cautiously, he dug himself out from beneath Barty, tugged on a pair of gym shorts, and darted out the door.
It was reasonably warm out, at least as warm as one could expect at eight o’clock in the morning along the ocean, so it was easy to keep pace without frying or freezing to death. Finding a decent route was the more difficult part, seeing as he knew absolutely nothing about the area, but eventually a boardwalk emerged and was sufficient enough. Now he could think.
There were four three things Evan knew for sure.
- Barty liked boys.
- He liked boys.
- He had feelings about Barty that went beyond the average friendship. Maybe. Probably. Definitely.
Barty loved him.
Nope, scratch that, he also knew that every person who ever whispered about having a hunch that one of them had a thing for the other was absolutely fucking right. Kiran was right.
On the other hand, there were hundreds of things that Evan didn’t know, and they all were managing to fly through his brain at a breakneck speed. The most pressing one was that he didn’t know a thing about what Barty was feeling. Apart from the recently more-than-typical over-affectionateness and the slurred ‘I love you’ during a particularly vulnerable moment last semester, that is. Which, someone else may think that was enough to make a guess, but not Evan. Never Evan.
If Evan wasn’t picking up on this until now, he certainly wasn’t in the position to be deducing his best friend's feelings about him. He could recognize that much.
Maybe Barty didn’t like him. That was fine. He could deal with that, after a while. What if Barty did like him? That was about twenty times more terrifying.
His feet hit the wooden boards of the pathway steadily, the sound hypnotising him to be able to ignore the slight ache in his legs and zone out completely.
He turned back after an hour, slightly relieved that he could take his sweet time before Barty would wake up. Now that he didn’t have any reason to follow a particular fitness regiment, Barty chose to sleep in well past when Evan did more often than not (although Evan missed their runs together, he wouldn’t say anything about it).
As soon as he got back onto their road, he could just barely make out the outline of someone in front of the house. It wasn’t Barty, the person was much shorter and blonde. Evan figured it was the people who came to check on the house, maybe they just didn’t know the two of them were there.
After slowing down and growing closer, he straightened as he recognized Marlene standing there, her thumbs rapidly moving back and forth on the screen of her phone.
“Marls?” Evan called, only a few houses away.
Her head shot up, hands fumbling to stuff her phone into the pocket of her jeans. “Nice of you to show up!”
Was he supposed to know she was coming?
“Didn’t know I needed to be here,” His voice trailed, hand raising to push Marlene's head playfully. “Did we have plans?”
“Nope.”
“Ah.”
“Saw Barty’s Instagram story of the beach last night, Lily’s family has a place a town over,” She explained happily, following Evan into the house as he pushed the door open. “Dorcas and I were arguing over something stupid and now I’m here!”
Marlene continued babbling, only quieting to tug her phone back out and tell Dorcas where she was (and managing to invite everyone over in the process). They settled in the kitchen, Evan standing on one side and Marlene sat in stools on the other.
A pot of coffee passed between the two of them before Barty came out of the bedroom with a tired hum, arms stretched above his head. “Mornin’, Ev.”
“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Marlene tapped her fingers along the kitchen counter. “Dorcas and Lily are coming over, by the way.”
“Oh, you’re here,” He commented with a yawn, not even slightly taken aback.
Barty shuffled over to where Evan was, standing behind him and tilting his head to dig his chin into Evan's shoulder.
“Hi, B,” Evan spoke stiffly, the situation still on the forefront of his mind. Still, he raised a hand to pat the side of Barty’s face.
Marlene made a face, one that clearly displayed suspicion. Her eyes darted between the two of them before looking at Evan, cocking her head.
Trying to communicate something to her nonverbally, Evan widened his eyes.
Her hand flew over her mouth. Subtle. Cool.
Evan looked at her blankly until she nodded, removing her hand from her face. A small smirk remained.
By the grace of someone, Barty managed to avoid witnessing the entire encounter by nearly falling back asleep. The only tell-tale that he hadn’t been watching was his head slipping off of Evan’s shoulder, and his entire body stumbling to the side in a weak show of trying to catch himself.
—
[23:11] MARLZ!: soooooo u gonna tell him
[23:12] Evvy Poo: tell who what
lol
jk
no.
[23:15] MARLZ!: DUDE. i will hunt u for sport if u don’t tell him by the end of your trip.
i got a machete for my birthday
it might be plastic but a little force goes a long way blondie
better get to work
—
The longer the trip went on, the more the overwhelming urge to grab Barty’s face and kiss him only grew. Evan wanted to literally crawl inside of him and live there if he could.
Everything was making it worse. The way his collar bones jutted out of his skin and made that one part of his shoulder hollow out. When he’d tackle Evan in the water and his hands would linger on his hips. This one time, when they were laying on the couch together, Barty’s fingers fluttered mindlessly over Evan’s spine and he thought he was going to die right there.
It made Evan anxious. Overwhelmingly, in fact.
“What’re you thinking about?” Barty’s voice broke through his thoughts. They were laying out on the deck, doing their best impression at tanning, but the UV was basically nothing.
Maybe it was the lingering alcohol in his system, or maybe it was the exhaustion that laying in the sun presented, but Evan was feeling particularly honest–like he needed to tell Barty something now.
Not the part that Evan would love to basically eat him alive at this moment, but the other part. The ‘sex-thing’, as his mind referred to it. He wanted Barty to know. He needed Barty to know. That didn’t make it any less scary, though. Afterall, Regulus was the only one who had the slightest clue about Evan. Pandora didn’t even know.
“Can I tell you something?”
Barty flipped onto his side so they faced each other completely. He didn’t say anything for a beat, seeming to be studying Evan’s face. “‘Course you can.”
Evan didn’t really know how he was supposed to word this type of thing. He twisted his face for a second, thinking.
“What is it?” Barty asked hesitantly, confused by the silence. It went on for a few more seconds before he prodded at it again, his voice sounding much more serious this time. “Is something wrong?”
“No! No,” Evan breathed out, more shakily than he wanted it to be. His cheeks burned. It wasn’t because of the sun. “I’m…you know how I’ve never really…”
It took a few seconds for the implication to get across, gears visibly turning in Barty’s head. Once things settled in, his hand reached across the space between them and flicked Evan’s forehead. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Besides, you don’t need to explain yourself to me, or anyone for that matter, if you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” Evan promised slowly. “There’s more behind it. I don’t know, I’m not really sure what’s going on. God, I’ve talked to Regulus about this already and it still feels like pulling teeth.”
He bit down on his cheek before he continued, trying to organise his thoughts and distract himself from the rising panic. “I mean, I’ve kissed girls, and boys, and it was fine, but past that doesn’t really appeal to me. Sex. Doesn’t appeal to me. At least not right now.”
Barty didn’t move, or change much at all, still looking at him patiently.
“Regulus said that could change though,” Evan added on quickly, like he was citing Regulus as a source on a school project.
“Okay,” Barty took his hand back from where it laid between them, resting it under his head. His eyes were soft and sweet, surprisingly tender.
“I know you probably aren’t all that interested in my sex life, but I wanted to tell you.”
“‘Course. Cool,” Barty shrugged lightly the best he could, still laying on his side. His tongue ran over his lips. “Thanks for telling me, Ev.”
Was that it? How were these things supposed to go?
Evan nodded slowly, not really knowing what he was supposed to say now. He’d never done this before and he knew it was showing.
Regardless, he felt something along the lines of satisfaction. He didn’t know what he expected, if he thought Barty would get upset or say something uncharacteristic, but a wave of relief settled within him.
Barty was more than happy to fill Evan’s silence, per usual.
“Sex isn’t really all that anyway, if I’m being honest,” He added, a grin forming as soon as a short laugh left Evan’s lips. “And if it doesn’t change, that’s fine too, yeah?”
—
It was nice being at the house with just the two of them. They didn’t have to do anything if they didn’t want to. Things were easy.
“What’re you makin’?” Evan rubbed at his eyes, only crawling out of bed because he smelled food. He honestly didn’t know Barty was capable of cooking, or waking up before he did. This was the first morning all summer that it’d been the case.
“Good morning, sunshine! I’ve got, uh, pancakes and bacon. Hopefully,” Barty turned around, holding a spatula in the air. His apron read I DIDN’T WASH MY HANDS! and his hair was still smushed down on one side, how it always was when he first woke up. It was cute.
“Hopefully?”
“I woke up yearning for the kitchen, what can I say?” He turned back around, poking at something on the stove. Evan made his way over, peaking at the food over Barty’s shoulder. Thankfully, the bacon came pre-cooked, so it would be edible regardless. The pancakes appeared pretty solid, too.
Evan got out plates and silverware, filling cups with water. “I would’ve come and helped, if you woke me up.”
“S’okay, I’m channelling Gordon Ramsey,” Barty flicked another pancake onto his stack. There were far too many for them to eat, but he kept pouring more batter into the pan. He turned around, pointing the spatula at Evan’s chest. “Idiot sandwich.”
Evan rolled his eyes but still bit back a dumb smile.
Eventually, Barty ran out of batter and there were enough pancakes on the dining room table to feed a small country. The worst part of it all was that the food was good, like really good.
Good enough that the two of them made a very serious pinky promise that breakfast was Barty’s duty now, while dinner was Evan’s.
—
It was pouring outside and Evan wanted to go swimming. He’d already gotten ready, swim shorts on with Barty’s jumper and a towel in hand. Not that the towel or hoodie would survive the rain, though.
Barty was standing in front of the door with his arms crossed, lecturing him all about the risks of getting sick, or pulled away by a tide, or, not to mention, being struck by lightning.
“It’ll be fun! Like when we do it at the lake!” Evan countered, pouting. “Besides, if I get sick, it’s definitely that kid at the grocery store's fault.”
Earlier that day, some little kid mistook Barty for their dad and had practically scaled the two of them. As soon as Evan asked if she was lost, she open-mouthed sneezed on Evan’s neck, snot and all. It didn’t take a genius to know he was bound to end up ill in the next week. Her dad came around after a while and he didn’t have a singular feature similar to Barty, aside from similar shoes. Kids were odd.
“This is the ocean . Not a lake. ” Barty pointed at the water.
“Come on, just for a little.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“I’ll go without you, then.”
“Fine. Fuck you.”
Evan smiled sweetly, slipping past Barty and out the door before he could change his mind and grab onto him. The rain felt nice and refreshing, slightly warm rather than the typical freezing cold. By the time he made it down to the water, it was already soaking through his clothes.
The water had warmed up in the time since they got there. Not that much, but enough to make it comfortable. Evan jumped right in, diving beneath the waves and swimming out just a bit. The tide was rough, he could feel it, so he didn’t go out very far.
“You’re such a moron!” Barty yelled from the shore, wrapped in a soaked towel. He didn’t make any moves to get in, so Evan just swam around by himself until he got bored. It didn’t take all that long, especially since he kept getting distracted by watching where Barty was moving.
Getting out of the water was a different task, the rain felt as though it’d suddenly dropped below freezing and the wind hurt more than before. Barty hooked the wet towel around his shoulders, swearing beneath his breath. Something about how he was an absolute idiot and it was a wonder he survived life so far.
After Evan reemerged from the shower, Barty swore up and down that if he got sick, he would absolutely not be taking care of him.
That was fine by Evan, because he wouldn’t be getting sick.
—
Three days later, Evan woke up shivering on the bathroom floor with absolutely no memory of getting there.
His skin was damp, sticking to the floor as he attempted to sit up. As soon as he moved his head, the world seemed to flick in and out. The floor would be just fine for now.
At some point he started to cough, his throat feeling as if it was being torn apart from the inside out with each harsh movement. Okay, so, maybe Barty had been right about swimming in the storm. He was pretty sure that wasn’t even how things worked, but he also was lacking the brain capacity to really think about it right now.
He curled into himself, deciding that if he couldn’t sit up he may as well try to get warm again. There was an odd feeling of being both cold and hot, the temperature of his body flipping between the two every few seconds. Even when he felt like he was boiling over, his body shook persistently.
At some point he lost his shirt, the next time he became aware of himself it was tucked beneath his head like a pillow.
There was noise outside of the door, which was still swung wide open, like Barty was moving around somewhere in the house. “Evan? Where are you?”
Evan groaned loudly. A few seconds later, the bathroom light whipped on, making him slam his eyes shut with a yelp. Barty turned the light back off.
“What’s wrong?” Evan could feel Barty’s hand hovering over his back.
“Ugh,” he moaned, tucking impossibly more into himself. His skin burned as it touched itself, but he knew if he spread out he’d only get colder.
“Oh, you idiot. I told you this would happen,” A cold hand gently went across his forehead, which he immediately leaned into with another low sound. “Jesus, Ev.”
Evan cracked his eyes open just a little, enough to see the shadow of Barty kneeling next to his head. He wanted to protest and remind Barty that it was the kids snot on his neck that caused this, not the water, but that would take more energy than he currently possessed.
“Tha’s nice,” He pushed further into Barty’s hand.
“Hey,” Barty softened his voice, but still snapped his fingers in front of Evan’s face. “Can you get up?”
“Mhm,” Evan focused as much of his energy as he could into sitting up, the waves of blackness coming back as soon as he was vertical. He teetered just slightly, but still enough for Barty to grab onto his shoulder.
“ Ohmygod ,” He murmured, legs weak beneath him. Thankfully the walk to the bed was short. The pillow he laid on smelled just like Barty, so he must have ended up on his side of the bed. Evan coughed again, wincing as his lungs and throat screamed.
His body still shook steadily, blankets quickly being pulled up to his chin. The feeling of Barty’s presence left, only to return a minute later when another blanket landed on top of him. “Evan?”
“B,” He whispered, finally stretching his limbs out beneath the sheets.
“You okay?”
Evan’s brows furrowed, “I feel… like fried ass.”
“Yeah, you look it too,” Barty joked, his hand going back to his forehead. Just like before, he leant into it without hesitation. “I think I need to call your mum.”
“Wha? No, no,” Evan mumbled, moving his hand to keep Barty’s on his head. “Don’ bug her.”
“This is extremely far above my pay grade. You need medicine or something.”
“Whatever.”
Barty must have stayed there until he fell back asleep, because the next time he woke it was from his Mum’s voice coming out of a phone. “Evan?”
He rolled onto his back, murmuring something incomprehensible. She called his name again, so he opened his eyes and tried again. At some point, Barty tugged all of the curtains shut so the room was nearly pitch black.
“Mhm–Mum.”
“You found him… in the bathroom?” God, he was so tired. He was glad she was talking to Barty instead of him.
“Yeah, well, uh, he went swimming a few nights ago. In the pouring rain. Against my will, I swear, I already yelled at him about it. But when I got up he wasn’t in bed,” Barty sounded worried, Evan didn’t want him to worry about him. “--Was just curled into a ball in his shorts on the floor, shivering. Only half of what he’s said since I found him has made sense, and he obviously has a fever, so…”
His voice trailed off, and Mum responded before the two of them went back and forth. Evan quickly stopped paying attention, closing his eyes again and wrapping his arms around a pillow. He was half asleep when the conversation cut off.
“Hey, prick,” Barty sat down on the bed, “She thinks you have the flu or something, she told me what to get from the pharmacy. I’ll be back in a bit, okay?”
“Don’ leave,” Evan yawned into the pillow.
“I won’t be long,” There was a hand on his back. “I promise. I’ll get you the good snacks, too.”
He turned his head out of the pillow just enough to look at Barty.
“You don’t have to, ugh,” He coughed. “Go out. I’m fine.”
“You’re fine?”
Evan nodded. “Perfectly.”
“Sure, okay. Move over.” Barty snorted.
Evan was pleased that his tactics worked, but very quickly remembered how the flu worked. “Now you’re going to get sick.”
“Guess you’ll have to pry me off of the bathroom floor in a few days, then,” Barty replied, very matter-a-fact about it.
He really didn’t want to get Barty sick, not at all, but the body heat next to him was amazing. Through the feverish fog, he reached out and loosely latched a few fingers onto Barty’s t-shirt.
“Go back to sleep.”
Evan listened, but he could feel Barty watching him the entire time.
—
The next time he woke up, medication was being shoved in his face. Apparently Barty had snuck out and back after he fell asleep. Fucking traitor.
Barty was cradling his head in his hands, lifting it so he could wash the pills down with water. Once he had swallowed them, Evan tilted his head further into Barty’s hands. His hands were always cold, it was the main point of teasing between the two of them for ages, but god it felt good.
“You need anything?” Barty whispered, his thumb skimming over Evan’s cheek. It felt nice, really nice.
Evan mumbled incomprehensibly, not really knowing if he did or not.
“I’m going to go heat up dinner, alright? I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” The hands left his cheek as his head slowly landed back on the pillow. The bedroom door closed a few seconds later.
As soon as the sound of the door latching had left the room, Evan realised he needed to go to the bathroom. Bad. Slowly, he manoeuvred his way up with his arms until he was sitting. His head swam miserably, making his stomach feel similarly, and coughs racked his body. He’d never felt this sick in his life, not even in primary school when he was pretty much ground zero for strep.
Some amount of time, that felt like years, passed before he shakily pulled himself to his feet. Surely he could make it to the bathroom by now, right? He slept all day, surely he was well rested. After testing a few steps, and nearly falling on his face with each one, he relied on the wall to lead him there.
He did successfully make it to the bathroom, finishing up just as the bedroom door reopened and the clattering of plates landing on the bedside table rang out.
“Evan?” Barty called, his voice slightly muffled by the closed door. He called again, louder and more urgently this time. “Evan?”
Evan dried his hands off and sluggishly pulled the bathroom door open. “Yeah?”
“Jesus, what are you doing up?”
“Bathroom?”
“You couldn’t have waited? So I could make sure you didn’t crack your head open and bleed out on the bathroom floor?”
“‘m a big boy, I can take a piss by myself,” Evan started back to the bed, following the same route. As soon as he leant against the wall for support, Barty came and grabbed him. “Besides, you’re the one with the…head cracking history.”
“You’re a moron,” He deposited Evan back on the bed, taking care to pull the blankets up to his chin. “Total moron, I literally left for five minutes. You could have waited.”
“Did ya wan’ to watch or something?” Evan murmured, retaking his ball-form.
Barty scoffed, but came and sat down next to him, pressing his thigh into Evan’s back. “I got you food, dumbass.”
Now that he was back in bed, leaning against the warmth radiating off of Barty, Evan really wasn’t all that hungry. Instead, he tossed himself over until his chest was pressed against Barty rather than his back. “You can eat it.”
“You need to eat something, you haven’t eaten a thing since last night.”
Evan nodded his head in mock agreement, hitting Barty’s hip as he did it. He still didn’t make any moves to eat, let alone sit up.
“Okay well, I’m going to eat, don’t bitch about being hungry in the middle of the night,” Barty tried to taunt him, clearly hoping it would make him want to eat something. It didn’t. Instead, he just moved in closer. He could hear a spoon hitting a bowl above him, accompanied by quiet slurps.
It only took another few minutes before Barty groaned and spoke up again, begging Evan to eat something. “Seriously, I’m not going to let you starve. Sit up.”
In response, he just coughed and shivered.
“See? This is what I mean, dickwad. There’s soup, it’s hot, you’ll stop shaking like a leaf against me. Win for both of us. Please , Ev.”
Evan turned his head hesitantly, moving dramatically slow to go onto his back. Barty watched every movement carefully, giving a well, go on then, look the entire time.
Once Evan was on his back, he slowly lifted himself up, letting himself become practically dead weight when Barty grabbed his shoulder to help him. By the end, Evan’s back was basically against his chest.
“Happy?” Evan slurred, his words becoming thicker as the fatigue from getting up and walking – in combination with the medicine – began to hit.
“Ecstatic,” Barty lifted a spoon to his lips, making him feel as if he was a toddler all over again. “Is this the part where I say here comes the aeroplane?”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
Ugh.
The bowl of soup worked its way to half empty and Evan’s head was starting to nearly fall into it with each passing second. Barty picked up on the hint, dropping the bowl somewhere next to them before shifting his body so Evan could lay back down. He was out before his head even hit the pillow.
—
Consciousness returned sometime in the middle of the night. The sound of his heavy breathing filled his mind, confusing him entirely. Evan pushed a blanket off of his chest, gasping slightly when the cold air hit his burning skin. Somewhere nearby, someone was talking to him, he knew that much.
“Evs? Ev. Evan. Evannn.”
Evan whipped his head around, wincing as it made his entire body sway. His head swam while he blinked rapidly, attempting to regain his balance and awareness. Before the blurriness cleared, there were hands settling onto his sweat-covered skin.
“ Evan. Hey. Hey! Evan!”
He panted, twisting until his eyes locked onto Barty. His chest ached with each breath, pain only getting worse when he tried to swallow. “Whha?” His voice was hoarse, sounding as if he swallowed handfuls of gravel.
“Oh, baby—Evan,” Barty’s eyes softened, one of his hands moving to the back of Evan’s neck. The weight of it tied him down like an anchor. “You’re okay, you have a fever.”
“I’m–” Evan’s voice broke into a shamble of coughs. Barty’s hand slid from his neck to tap against his back. “ Fuck .”
“Yeah, fuck,” Barty’s voice came out airy. His hands left Evan’s skin, making him complain under his breath, and grabbed a water bottle. Carefully, he pushed the open top closer to Evan’s lips. “Drink this.”
He grabbed onto the bottle and drank it eagerly, nearly coughing up water when he finally tried to hand it back over. Instead, Barty shoved a handful of medication in his hand. “What’re these?”
“You took them earlier, I wouldn’t poison you.”
That much was true, at least. Evan sluggishly shoved them into his mouth before washing them down with water. His entire body ached, he could feel his hands shaking as they loosely held onto the bottle.
Barty wrapped a hand around his, pulling the water bottle away and putting it away. He moved into Evan’s line of sight again, his eyes darting around. “You look worse, I think I need to call your Mum again.”
Evan shook his head, not wanting to worry or bother her. He felt like he was kissing death, but he’d be fine in a day or two. These things always pass. There wasn’t any need to work her up enough that she’d be likely to show up at their door later in the day. “Nope.”
“If you don’t seem any better by the afternoon, I’m calling her,” Barty’s voice was firm, his eyes setting to further his point. Evan nodded this time. He pressed the back of his hand against Evan’s forehead yet again. “Jesus Christ.”
“Jus’ me.”
“You’re really hot.”
“Aww. Th’nks. You too.”
A short, mostly incomprehensible argument passed between the two of them, along with a chaperoned trip to the bathroom, before the two of them were back in bed. Barty had soaked a washcloth and made Evan pull on a jumper, insisting that it would help break the fever.
“Flip over.”
Evan grumbled, but Barty was right. He could never fall asleep like that, almost always opting to sleep on his stomach. He turned over with a hushed noise, flinching when the damp cloth was placed over the back of his neck. It helped more than he’d care to admit.
Barty laid down on his side next to him, brushing one of his hands through Evan’s hair. His hair was slick with sweat and probably stuck to his forehead, but Barty didn’t seem to care.
I love you, Evan thought.
After a few minutes, Barty shuffled onto his back and dragged Evan closer to him. Evan’s breaths were light and thin, his chest shaking with each intake, but he didn’t make a single noise at Barty’s gesture–only pulling himself up to tuck his head beneath his chin.
He was glad that Barty was there, not Pandora or Marlene or Regulus or even his Mum. Everyone wants to be with their mother when they’re sick, but Evan just wished that this would never change. It would be nice for the confusion, sweating, and chills to disappear, sure, but he was able to forget about that for the moment.
Barty’s heartbeat was radiating through his head, blocking out anything but itself. Evan could feel his eyelids drooping, letting out a yawn to try and wake himself up a bit. After a few seconds passed without a single spark of energy, he let himself give into it.
Tightening his grip on Barty’s t-shirt, he slurred out a handful of words–one’s that didn’t reach his own ears.
It only took a second for Barty to respond, but Evan was already out.
—
Thankfully, Evans fever broke the next morning.
For that day, and the few after, Barty, who managed to avoid contracting his plague, followed around behind him like a little duckling. He’d even set alarms on his phone for when Evan could take more medication.
Luckily, over the next few days, he gradually felt better and better. By five days later, he was completely back to his normal self. It didn’t stop Barty from checking every single morning though.
“Hiya,” Evan murmured, squinting open his eyes when he felt Barty’s hand on his face. “I’m okay.”
“Just makin’ sure,” Barty shrugged, clearly embarrassed. His voice was still gravely and slow from sleep.
“What’d you say to be a couple months ago, ‘you’re cute when you care?’” Evan attempted to sound teasing, but his tone was soft and honest. He couldn’t help it, Barty was cute when he cared and fussed, too. Part of him missed it already.
Barty laughed, repeating what Evan had said back then. “So I’m cute now?”
“Always have been,” Evan chirped back, stretching beneath the blankets.
—
Regulus was supposed to come and stay for a few days. Apparently he told his parents they’d be at the house by the creek, but it was close enough. Not like they’d be calling to check anyway.
He’d have to sleep on the pull out couch, as there was only one bed, which both Barty and Evan were delighted to reveal.
They didn’t really have any plans, though Barty kept passionately pitching in the idea of matching tattoos. The three of them all had a couple, done by their fellow classmates, but the possibility of them all agreeing on something to get together was near zero. Barty’s tattoos weren’t really thought out, Evan was somewhere in the middle, and Regulus seemed as though he had been planning his since he popped out of the womb.
Seriously.
Anyway, staying true to himself, Evan was busy overthinking the entire time that he and Barty were cleaning up the place before he got there. It’d only taken Marlene exactly two words to realise what was going on, meaning that it would probably take Regulus either the same amount of time or half of it.
—
As predicted, Regulus was less than pleased about the sleeping arrangement. Barty said he could snuggle in with him and Evan, which he was even more repulsed by.
“I’m not getting in the middle of that , ” Was what he said. Whatever that was supposed to mean.
Equally unsurprisingly, Regulus took one look into their (very barren) cupboard and demanded that they go into town to buy groceries. Neither Evan nor Barty held any complaints with that, both of them sharing a hopeful look with each other that maybe , just maybe, Regulus would actually know what to buy at the store.
Not that either of them were particularly bad at cooking, as proven by Barty’s pancake success, but there's a big difference between knowing how to cook and knowing what ingredients are needed at the moment. Sometimes those big long recipe articles just won’t load in the migraine inducing fluorescent aisles.
At the store, Evan lagged behind the two of them – choosing to watch their bickering and fingers digging into each other's sides from a few steps back.
“Evan,” Regulus glanced over his shoulder, a hand coming up to push some of his hair out of his face. “Pizzas?”
Barty shot back a double thumbs up and an enthusiastic nod, so Evan agreed. He assumed
Regulus meant frozen pizzas, the ones that take a disturbingly short amount of time to cook in the microwave, but he meant from scratch pizzas.
“These ones don’t have chemicals and shit in them,” Regulus chided, the same logic clearly not applying to the brightly coloured cheese balls he was placing into the cart while he spoke.
Barty came around the end of an aisle, holding a big box of tea bags. “Someone look up the recipe for sun tea, we’re making that shit.”
Evan complied, quickly going to google and swiping through the results. One of them in particular stopped him. “Uh.”
Not even a second passed before Barty was leaning over his shoulder to read it, immediately spilling into laughter. “We can’t tell Reg.”
He said it as though Regulus wasn’t ten feet away from them, which of course triggered him to speak up.
“We can’t tell me what?”
Evan looked at Barty, biting back a smile. Barty looked at Evan, still stifling a bit of laughter.
“We can’t tell me what?” Regulus repeated, walking over and ripping the phone out of Evan’s hands. He mouthed the words as he read them, eyes darting back up.
“Your grandmother was trying to kill us,” He stated, face blank. “This lists ‘the dangers of sun tea’ and how it grows bacteria because of the warmth. She was trying to kill us.”
“Hey, don’t bring Mare into this,” Barty grumbled, pulling the phone back into his hand. He scrolled a little, raising his eyebrows. “This says we just need to sterilise the tea beforehand, by boiling the bags of tea.”
Regulus eyed Evan suspiciously. “Does she boil the tea bags before?”
Evan rolled his eyes. “Of course she does.”
As soon as Regulus looked away, Evan locked eyes with Barty, mouthing ‘No she doesn’t’.
—
Barty’s batch of sun tea wasn’t very comparable to Evan’s grandmothers, but it was still fairly good nonetheless.
For the last three hours the three of them had been sitting on the back deck, making a dent in Regulus’ cheese balls, gossiping, and more recently passing around a joint between the three of them. They originally came out to make their pizzas on the grill, but that plan quickly went south when they opened the grill to find a small village of spiders living there. None of them fucked with spiders, but the oven worked out just fine.
“How’s golden boy?” Barty teased, his thigh hitting against Evan’s when he leaned forward to grab his cup of tea. The contact left his skin burning in its wake.
Regulus was turned away from them, facing the water, but Evan could imagine the dramatic eye roll in response well enough that he may as well have been facing them. “He’s fine, off at some training camp for two weeks to get ready for pre-season.”
After graduating, James had signed on to a somewhat local professional soccer team. If his stats stayed anywhere near the same they were during school, he’d likely be quickly climbing the ranks to becoming one of the team's best players. The same team had sent a scout to talk to Evan once or twice before, but they were looking for unreliable short term contracts–something he wasn’t interested in. Long term contracts typically came alongside better salaries and benefits, which he’d be stupid to deny.
Something was muttered about James being a ‘fancy pants’ for that off to Evan’s right. His hand darted out to flick Barty in the thigh.
Regulus turned back to face them, their joint settled between his fingers. “What’s Kirin doing this summer?”
“Uh,” Evan started, surprised. He shouldn’t have expected Regulus to leave it alone, but he didn’t think it would be now. “I don’t know, probably staying with his Mum in the states. Doing Kirin stuff. Why?”
He looked at Regulus somewhat suspiciously, watching the other boy glance at Barty before he shrugged and spoke again. “No reason, I just saw that new movie and one of the characters reminded me of him.”
Evan narrowed his eyes, suspecting trouble. “What new movie?”
“Men in Black.”
“He doesn’t look like…” Evan let his words hang for a second, mind running through the cast of the movie. He and Barty had gone to see it when it first released.
Regulus snapped his fingers, leaning forward slightly in his seat. “Pawny.”
Barty cackled, lurching forward to grab his cup when his foot nearly knocked it over.
“The fucking..? The little green guy? With the Night at the Museum armour?” Evan swung his hands out animatedly while he spoke. “Kirin’s taller than all three of us! He’s not even green!”
“I never said he looked like him, just that he reminded me of him,” Regulus defended himself, his eyes clearly begging Barty to back him up. Evan turned to Barty.
“B. What do you think?”
“No. That’s not fair,” Regulus pointed out. “Barty won’t be mean if it pertains to you.”
Proving his point, Barty widened his eyes just slightly before pretending to lock lips. He tossed the imaginary key off the deck and snatched the joint from Regulus.
“This is bullshit,” Evan announced, pulling the joint out from between Barty’s lips and pressing it to his own. “Neither of you, well, Regulus you didn’t have shit to say when I was…whatever I was with him!”
“Pawny didn’t exist back then.”
—
It took a while for them to shuffle into bed that night, both Evan and Barty occupied with harassing Regulus on his blow-up couch mattress to the highest degree. Once they were in bed, it seemed like neither of them could fall asleep, judging by the shifting of blankets and sniffs that would fill the space every now and then.
“Did you love him?” Barty’s voice eventually cut through the silence.
Evan stilled, untangling himself from the blankets to lay on his back. The answer was easy, but his mind still started to run at a breakneck speed. “No. I don’t think so.”
He took in a breath, focusing on the rise and fall of his chest to prevent the incoming panic from growing any further. He hated talking about this with Barty, about him, it made everything feel gross and weird.
“How do you know?”
“It was never,” Evan started, pausing to think over everything that went down with Kiran. Or rather, the lack of things that went down with Kiran. “It wasn’t anything like that to me. I think that he loved me, but I never felt…”
There was no word coming to mind. Did Evan know what love, in that sense, was? Could he even define it in a way that meant something?
“Like you wanted to walk the dog with him.”
He scrunched his brow for a flash, thinking about it. That way of putting it, absurdly, made perfect sense to him.
“Yeah,” He whispered into the darkness. “Something like that.”
—
Two days later, sprawled out on towels on the beach, the ball dropped.
Barty had run into the house, citing that he needed the bathroom, and Evan immediately knew what was going to happen. It was only a matter of time before it was brought up, and at this point, he just needed to be thankful that it was happening without Barty’s presence.
Regulus pulled himself up to lean back on his elbows. “So. Rosier.”
“What?” Evan asked, like an idiot.
“Is there anything you’d like to say? Before I say it?”
“No…?” Evan spoke tentatively, as though he thought he was going to get in trouble.
All Regulus did was hum, grabbing his drink and taking a swig. His hair was curlier from the salt water and, despite his solid attempts, the sunglasses as a headband moment wasn’t working. He pulled the sunglasses down to sit on the nose of his bridge, obscuring his always all-knowing gaze. “Okay, well, if you insist.”
“I’m not insisting.”
“I’m insisting, and you’re an idiot, so I’m going to say you’re insisting.”
“That isn’t how it works.”
“I think I can hear Barty opening the sliding door. Better hurry,” Regulus announced and Evan whipped around to check. There was nothing there.
“That’s not nice,” Evan glowered. He tilted his own sunglasses up. “What’s it to you anyway?”
Apparently, that was a stupid question, because Regulus jolted up until he was sitting pinstraight. “What’s it to me? What’s it to me? Oh my god. She was right.”
Before Evan could cut in and ask who was right, Regulus held up a finger to silence him and kept going.
“I knew you were oblivious, I know you’re both ridiculously oblivious. No offence, actually, full offence, but the two of you are like wet paper bags when it comes to this. God, I thought Dora was lying when she said you weren’t aware you were crushingly in love with him.”
Wait. Dora was in on this? “Dora knew?”
“Everyone knows! I bet they,” He pointed to a random person down the beach, “know!”
“Don’t be unreasonable,” Evan started, sighing when Regulus put his head into his hands. “Also, I am aware. As of a few weeks ago.”
“Despicable. This thing between the two of you has been going on since you were…at least fourteen. At least Barty was aware of his side of this whole thing–”
Everything froze. Regulus’ mouth kept moving, but Evan couldn’t hear a thing. His fingers felt like they were tingling, as if they were warning him he was going to pass out any second. He blinked harshly. “What?”
“-honestly, I think the two of you are quite an impressive pair. On one side we have Weenie McGee, who lets himself stew with his feelings when they’re obviously reciprocated, and then on the other there’s you, the clown,” Regulus was still going. “You know, he thinks you aren’t even interested in dating anymore after Pawny. No clue how much bitching you did about the guy to make that happen.”
“Shut up,” Evan hardly resisted the urge to slap a hand over Regulus’ mouth. “What do you mean about Barty?”
Regulus opens his mouth to speak again just as the sliding door behind them slammed, Barty’s footsteps down the wooden staircase filling the air.
For the rest of the day, Evan could hardly form a sentence.
—
Abruptly, things felt like he should be in grade school–flushed in the face and nervous in the face of a crush. He couldn’t tell if Barty had noticed or not, because it seemed like he was also retreating in a way. Maybe Regulus had told him something, the two of them were always closer than Reg was with Evan.
By the time that Regulus was loading his things into the back of his car, things between them were a little weird. Barty seemed less, well, Barty, and Evan was sure that the same thing could be said about himself. He felt like he was tiptoeing through conversations and interactions, like there was some new need to impress Barty or entice him in some way.
It was stupid, he was well aware of that fact, but he couldn’t help it. It felt like a slap in the face when Regulus told him that it was a mutual thing, not a bad slap, but one that made him realize every expression on his face and move of his limbs.
As they watched Regulus back out of the driveway, Barty wrapped his arms around Evan from the back. Evan twitched, just a little, but it was enough to still gain attention.
“What’s up?” Barty asked, moving his hands to spin Evan around and grab onto his shoulders.
“Nothing.”
“Ev.”
Honesty was the best policy, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like they ever had issues telling each other what they were thinking. Except that one thing.
“It’s been weird. Between us. Ever since the other day on the beach,” Evan winced. “Did Reg say anything to you?”
Barty took in a shaky breath, his eyes darting to the wall. “No, he didn’t. I was just…feeling weird. I’m…dealing with something.”
“Is it your dad?” Evan asked stupidly, knowing it wasn’t. He was a little curious as to what Barty would say. It’d give him a gauge of where he was at, where they were at.
“No! No, not at all. Not family stuff. Not really,” Barty thought it over. Evan watched how his lips moved and wondered if they always did that little quirk at the end of a sentence. “Well, maybe.”
Okay, not helpful whatsoever.
“Well, is there anything I can help with?”
“What? No,” Barty looked like a deer caught in headlights, like he didn’t expect to be asked that.
Barty moved back a few steps, his hands dropping from Evan’s shoulders. “It’s nothing.”
He couldn’t force Barty to talk about it, but he clearly was struggling to do so on his end as well. Regardless, he dropped his shoulders and attempted to sound confident when he spoke. “Listen, B…”
“I’m figuring it out,” Barty interrupted him.
“That’s–”
“It’ll be fi–”
“I’m still interested in dating people,” It wasn’t what he planned to come out of his mouth, but it seemed to do something, because Barty’s face went through six different emotions at once. If it wasn’t for the small look of relief, Evan would have thought he didn’t pick up on it at all.
—
Evan didn’t know how the single sentence changed everything, but things were relatively back to normal between the two of them. He still danced around things with Barty like a nervous grade schooler, but at least they weren’t acting as if they’d just met a week ago anymore. There were arms around shoulders and legs criss crossed over each other when they woke up. The comfort in silence returned, too.
He knew it was coming, but Evan didn’t expect Barty to bring up their prior conversation in the middle of breakfast. They’d been sitting quietly for the past few minutes, people watching strangers in the restaurant and making up dumb stories for each of them.
Evan was mid-bite of a pile of hashbrowns when Barty spoke, his fork pushing around the remaining french toast on his plate.
“You’re still interested in dating?”
The remaining hashbrowns in Evan’s mouth nearly re-met the outside world, a choke rising in his throat with a series of wheezes following. He dropped his fork, pressing a hand against the table while his others scrambled for the glass of water to his left.
He withheld the urge to glance over his shoulders, as if he was going to try to check if this was actually happening now. In the middle of breakfast, when he was stifling a cough back while attempting to swallow gulps of water. Somehow, he wasn’t overwhelmed with panic, but rather with something akin to eagerness.
“Yes,” He managed. He studied each twitch of Barty’s expression, the corner of his right eye moving up with the corner of his mouth. He’d always had a dopey, lopsided smile, whether he was beaming or attempting to hide it.
“Okay,” Barty nodded to himself, his shoulders dropping the slightest bit. “Cool.”
“Are you?” Evan followed quickly, setting his glass back down. “Interested in dating?”
Barty answered without hesitation, eyes focused on Evans. “Yeah.”
He nodded once, sharply, and scooped more food onto his fork.