Work Text:
They'd been friends for nine years. Barty knew exactly because he'd been counting every day since he was eleven. Call him crazy, but his lifeline was Evan.
He'd gotten a berating from his dad? He'd tell Evan. He'd thought he'd fallen in love? He'd tell Evan. He’d gotten off for the first time? He'd told Evan. He'd cried because of a movie? He'd tell Evan. He'd have sudden urges to murder someone? He'd tell Evan.
He'd tell Evan the craziest of shit, and the man never judged him. Because he always said the right thing. "Fuck him. Ignore him" or "you're too young to know, no?" He'd laugh, share an experience of his own, or just stare and smile inquisitively.
Maybe he was obsessed. He thought of Evan during dinner, at school; when he woke up, his first thought was to call Evan and tell him good morning, maybe make some plans for them to meet some time soon. Evan occupied his brain more than anything else ever had. In fact, Barty couldn't remember anything from before being eleven years old. He was born when he met Evan. Like he saw the sun for the first time, drank water for the first time, breathed in oxygen for the first time.
It wasn’t healthy, but no one knew. And if no one knew, Barty smirked about it, because he felt like he knew when doomsday was going to happen. He felt high and mighty and borderline godlike, for the simplest of things.
They weren’t drunk or high, maybe slightly delusional, as always. Their friends had left, they were alone in Evan's bedroom, and Barty didn't want to leave the comfort of Evan's hard mattress. It smelled like him, his shampoo and cologne, masculine and homelike.
Evan was sitting at the end of his bed, looking down at Barty, who had his eyes closed and was smiling, humming a non-existent tune. It was quiet, warm and borderline cosy, like a warm blanket on a cold winter day. Barty wanted to wrap himself up in the air. Maybe in some universe, I could , he thought, amused and smirking to himself.
Barty opened an eye, feeling Evan looking at him. When he got the confirmation that Evan indeed was watching him, he opened both of them and smiled up at him.
"What’s wrong?" he asked, though the question held no gravity, since Evan had been doing that a lot, and Barty wasn't sure Evan knew he knew.
"Have I ever told you you're really pretty?" he asked after a long pause.
Barty's breath halted, his eyes unfocussing for a moment. He breathed in. "No." He laughed it out.
"You are. Like pretty, you know? Like a woman but- you're not a woman- you're just," he stopped, never taking his gaze off of Barty, "prettier than a man, but not like a woman."
"Is that a normal thing to say to your best friend?" The question was genuine, this time. Barty flushed at the compliment, in a way he'd never before. He'd been told he was handsome, and he always brushed it off, because he had been blessed by genetics, and he knew it, basked in it. But pretty ? No one's ever told him that .
Evan made a noise at the back of his throat and looked away, before lying down next to Barty, who scooted closer to the wall.
"No but- is it?" he asked again, because he'd been thinking about telling Regulus that. Behaviour ignored, Regulus was so pretty , a pale and delicate looking thing, Barty just wanted to cradle him like he would his mother's pearl necklace.
"Sure!" Barty assumed Evan thought the answer had been obvious, given his mumbled exclamation. Barty shrugged to himself subconsciously.
Evan raised his head from the pillow, looked at Barty's face, all of it, tracing it quickly, and put it between Barty's shoulder and neck, revelling in the warmth it presented.
"I lied to you," Evan suddenly said.
Barty was taken aback, but couldn't blame Evan for having his secrets. Some things weren't meant to see the light of day, some words to never be spoken for the air to carry away forever.
"You wanna tell me now?"
"What?" Evan asked, moving his arm closer to Barty’s between them.
"What you lied about? Earth to Evan?" Barty laughed lightly.
"Sorry. It's not my fault you talk so cryptically." Evan sighed, but Barty saw a smile on his face.
"Sure. I've, uh," Evan swallowed, "actually, I have kissed someone. Something more, too. It was back in seventy-nine."
"Why would you not tell me that? It's the most normal thing ever." Again, Barty wasn't upset with him, just confused.
"I don't know." Evan laughed, though it sounded strangled.
"Okay," Barty whispered, letting his hand caress Evan's.
They laughed a little, and Evan retracted his arm when Barty's fingers made their way to his wrist. Sometimes, it seemed to Barty, that Evan's only weakness was being tickled.
"You're insufferable." Evan shook his head.
"So, who was it?" Barty asked.
Evan's smile faded and he kept his mouth shut.
"All right," Barty sighed, closing his eyes.
He suddenly sat up, making Evan's head bump onto the bed.
"It wasn’t one of my exes, was it?"
"No, God, no. I would never," Evan said, exasperated, nuzzling his face into the pillow.
Barty turned his upper body to look at him.
"Never say never," he quipped.
"Yeah, believe me. I would never do that."
Barty fake-gasped. "It wasn’t," he turned around, lying on his stomach and his mouth right next to Evan's ear, "it wasn’t a boy, was it?" he whispered.
Evan let out a laugh that sounded like a cry and shook his head right into the pillow, his face now completely engulfed in it.
Barty's smile faded. He rolled onto his back. Well . He cleared his throat, which was suddenly dry.
Evan got up on his hands and knees, his face a bit red, and hovered right above Barty.
"I've kissed both, actually," Evan said, looking down at Barty.
"You never told me," Barty whispered.
"I know," he whispered back. "Guess who was better?"
Barty swallowed and smiled. "The guy? Who was it anyway?"
"Yes, and it's none of your concern."
Barty frowned. "Why won't you tell me ?"
Evan just shook his head, closing his eyes and opening them again. "I thought you were going to, like, call me some name or something if I told you about it."
"No. Never you. You're safe." Barty smirked.
"So, who was it?"
"Why do you want to know so bad?" Evan let out a laugh.
"I wanna know who's been snogging my best friend? Makes sense to me." Barty looked to the side.
Evan tilted his head by his chin, making them lock eyes. They stayed like that for some time, before Evan spoke. "You are so oblivious, Crouch."
"You want to kiss me, don't you?" Barty wasn't stupid, he wasn't oblivious, he just ignored things that he knew would make him feel different from what he's used to.
Evan averted his eyes. "Not want , maybe you do."
Barty stayed quiet. Did he want to? Was Evan proposing it? Or was he just testing him? But Evan wouldn't do that, not to Barty.
"Just to try?" Evan whispered.
He be damned, was Evan being coy? It hit him at once. He was about to kiss his best friend, and that wasn't the part that bothered him, what bothered him was that he was a man, and he was scared he was going to like it. Because Barty was nothing but addictive. He was afraid he wasn't going to be able to stop if he liked it.
He felt sick to his stomach, with the way Evan was looking at him, smiling slightly, no hint of fear or anything. And Barty felt an attraction towards his best friends he'd never felt before.
Evan's lips were parted, a little wet and red in the middle. He could see his tongue, and Barty imagined it in his mouth. He blinked slowly.
Barty reached out, put his hand on the back of Evan's neck, fingering his hair. He slowly brought his head towards himself, looking at his lips.
"Is this going to change anything between us?" Barty asked breathlessly.
Evan shook his head, but never made the first move.
"I can't be the only one who's doing something right now. This is a two man job," Barty teased.
Evan rolled his eyes and smiled. Barty maybe didn't expect it, with the way Evan was stalling, because when their lips touched, he pulled back the tiniest bit.
He didn't dwell on it anymore, and kissed him properly. They didn't use tongue, out of fear or something, but had they done it a second more, it wouldn't have been as innocent.
They both pulled back, and Evan immediately engulfed Barty in a hug. It was an awkward position, with Barty half up by the waist, and Evan on his knees, but they hugged for a long time.
They both couldn't explain why they had kissed that day. But deep somewhere they didn't mind it all that much. Maybe it had made them closer, made them understand each other better, somehow. Or maybe it made them both realise something about themselves.
Barty thought about that night a lot. An unnatural amount. He had nothing else to focus on, so his brain fixated on the kiss. He'd read the time on Evan's clock on his bedside table after it.
And there he went. Counting down the days since it happened.
But was there a reason for it? Because they started kissing goodbye every time they left each other. Just a peck, and in secret, but it was a routine they'd picked up.
Almost exactly two months after their first kiss, if he could call it that, the flirting started. Nothing too much out of the ordinary, but the shift was noticeable. It felt more… real.
It was Regulus's graduation day, and he'd invited Barty, who obviously brought a plus one, Evan.
It wasn't that the two weren't friends, it was just that Regulus trusted Barty more, and they were miles closer to each other than he and Evan were. But he didn't mind Evan coming along too much, especially if it made Barty happy, or something. He just hated unneeded attention.
Barty was at Evan's flat, changing into his suit in his bathroom, while Evan was in his bedroom doing the same.
Barty had chosen his best suit- one with the tiniest of blue undertones. It fit him perfectly. Evan had bought himself a new one, and insisted on showing it only worn because: "It doesn't have the same effect on the rack." Barty thought it was fair.
Barty finished first and went to sit on the sofa, taking in the place he'd seen so many times. It was so clean it made him uneasy. It felt like no one lived there.
When Evan got out of his bedroom, Barty's eyes widened.
"Ain't you looking spiffy?" He smiled.
Evan smiled back, the softest hint of red on his cheeks.
"Yeah, yeah. You too." He sat next to Barty, who was watching him closely.
"Handsome this time? Or still pretty," Barty teased.
"Don't you wanna look pretty? But yes, a little bit of everything." Evan grinned.
"What else?" Barty asked, holding his chin up with his hand, his elbow on the back of the sofa, gazing at Evan.
Evan thought about it for a second. "Uh, pretty, handsome, hot like, I-want-to-get-you-out-of-that-suit-hot."
"Oh, this isn't about the suit, is it?" Barty asked, a bit stunned.
Evan just laughed, and Barty smiled at him.
Was it play-flirting? It had to be. But something in Barty's mind told him that Evan's face wore a look of certainty and genuineness it rarely did.
Barty kissed him on the corner of his mouth and Evan turned his head a bit to kiss him full on the lips.
Barty moved his head back a bit. "Maybe later tonight, huh?"
Evan smiled and ruffled Barty's hair, before getting up and going to the door.
Later that night, Barty and Evan were sharing a beer and cigarette at Evan’s flat in silence. Before leaving, Barty pulled Evan into a hug. He nuzzled his face into his neck, breathing in Evan's cologne, and kissed his pulse point, before moving up to kiss his jaw, his cheek, his nose, and finally his lips.
That was the first time they made out. Against the wall, next to the front door.
A month later, Regulus moved out of the flat he shared with Barty, and his new house had a massive pool in the backyard. It was secluded from everything else, which was rare for London, but Barty guessed money could buy anything.
Barty found himself on his back, one leg in the pool, his head being cradled by Evan on his lap.
Regulus was telling a story from school, which Barty only half-listened to, his mind focusing on the way Evan was staring down at him.
The sunlight from behind him almost made him look like he had a halo around his head, the dark brown of his hair fading into the cloud-white sky. Barty’s heart lurched, noticing how attentive Evan’s eyes were on him.
Regulus was in the middle of finishing his story when the bell rang.
“I told him to come round the back.” Regulus sounded exasperated, and Barty smiled, looking up at him.
Regulus got up to open the door for Avery, or whoever it was they’d invited.
As soon as he left, Evan started tracing Barty’s lips with his index finger. Barty gulped, and their eye contact was broken when Evan looked down at his neck. Barty could feel his other hand coming up to it, snaking around it.
Barty flinched. He brought his hand up to trace over the veins of Evan’s hand. He was gazing up at Evan’s eyes, which were still locked onto his neck, now being softly enveloped.
Deep down, Barty wanted him to squeeze tighter- whatever that meant- but he didn’t care, not to elaborate on it, nor act on it.
His ears picked up on Regulus’s and Avery’s voices, and Evan pulled both his hands away, leaving Barty’s to fall on his neck. Evan patted him on the chest, looking away. Barty blinked up at him.
That day had been lethargic, hot, and Barty’s mind was so occupied thinking about Evan, he’d almost drowned. It had been embarrassing.
Barty blushed everytime he thought of it, Evan’s concerned face popping up in his mind. Then, his mind brought up the image of him laying on the concrete and Evan looking down at him, and everything that ensued, and he blushed even more.
If he hadn’t known what it felt like, he wouldn’t have come to the conclusion that he liked his best friend. More than friends.
And- oh shit - he had been oblivious. Did Evan like him back? He was so sure that was how friends acted, but then he thought of doing everything he’d done with Evan with Reglus instead, and he felt queasy for an entirely different reason.
As soon as he got home, he sought out the box full of his pictures with friends and family, put it on his bed and grabbed the envelope that contained only his and Evan’s pictures together.
Barty came to the smart (and late) conclusion that since Evan had started it all, he must have liked him. Maybe even way before Barty could think. His intention with the pictures was to see if Evan had been obvious with it- like looking at him in a certain way, touching him differently from how he did the others, anything, really.
The first polaroid he fished out was one from nineteen-eighty. Evan’s birthday. Barty felt like he’d hit the jackpot. They were both sober, long gone the days of getting piss-drunk, and Evan was looking at him like the world revolved around Barty. He blushed and shook his head, hiding a smile from no one.
He kept looking, though most of the pictures were tame. He noticed small touches he’d always brushed off to be friendly in some. He smiled to himself.
Barty put the box away, keeping some of his new favourite polaroids on his dresser, and thought of Evan. He thought of Evan’s dimpled smile, his hair when ruffled, his eyes shining under the moonlight. Barty thought of how he’d always admired his best friend from afar, always wanted to hug him for longer than the others because he liked Evan’s cologne.
He called him that night. He picked up on the second ring.
“Rosier speaking.” Barty swallowed in the darkness of his lounge, glancing at his bedroom door.
“Come over?” he asked, twirling the telephone cord between his fingers.
“Sure.” Evan let out a laugh.
Ten minutes later, Evan knocked on his flat door, and Barty didn't even bother asking him how he’d gotten in without ringing the bell, pulling him in immediately.
“Uh, why are we in the darkness?” Evan asked, turning around to look at Barty, who was closing the door.
“Do you wanna have sex with me?” Barty thought there was absolutely no point beating around the bush, not with his best friend, who by the looks of it, seemed to have been keen enough to say yes.
“I- wait, I was not expecting that.” He let out a laugh.
“Well, you’ve done it with a guy before, no?” Barty asked, playing with his fingers.
Evan looked up at him and didn’t even say anything, he just backed Barty up against his door and kissed him hard and long.
That was the first time they had sex. It hadn’t been like he’d expected it. It had been sweet and slow.
Their first date had been awkward. They already knew everything about each other, so they talked about the minimal, useless things that had happened in between the hours they hadn’t seen each other.
It was at a small cafe, and Barty had asked Evan out the day after their first time together. Like Evan had mentioned, it had been extremely out of character for Barty. The location, the whole concept of a date, and Barty defended himself, saying it was because Evan had changed him. He was so glad he’d accepted, though.
“Tell me about when you realised you liked me,” Barty asked over his mug of coffee.
"Uh. It was the last year of college. On our school trip to Edinburgh. You were sleeping next to me and I stared at you for like two hours straight," Barty let out a laugh. Evan smiled at him and continued, "yeah, I wish I was joking. Anyways, I remember just thinking about how beautiful you were." Evan shook his head.
Barty smiled at him.
"What about you? Hopefully it isn't as sappy as my story."
"I don't have an exact date. I guess I've always thought about you obsessively, more than a friend." Barty didn’t feel embarrassed or guilty admitting this to his best friend (boyfriend?) because he knew he would never be judged by him.
"Obsessively like?" Evan glanced at him, his brows furrowed.
"I've always been kind of obsessed about our friendship, I guess." He shrugged, looking down at the mahogany tabletop.
"That's sweet." And Evan sounded so genuine saying it, that Barty smiled to himself. He doubted anyone else would have ever understood him like Evan did.
Barty wasn’t sure whether they were going to last a long time or not. He’d always imagined a life with Evan. They were young, neither of them frequented university and they didn’t know what to do with their lives. They had money, no need for jobs yet, and they took it one day at a time.
Back in college, just before their A levels, Barty had been so sure he was going to go study political science as per his parents’ request, but Evan had told him to follow his heart, and Barty’s heart had been set on freedom.
And freedom was what Barty intended to have, for as long as he could. It would have never been easy being a man in a relationship with another man, not when you lived amongst tories and old men, but Barty didn’t care about them. He kept his wits, his pride, and never once thought of abandoning his simile-perfect life.
As for Evan. Barty loved him more than he loved the sun, the moon, the earth- which could all disappear for all he cared- and Barty would still be grateful falling hand in hand with Evan in the massive space vacuum, hitting stars, planets, asteroids as their bodies would float around aimlessly; dying in outer space, choking from the lack of oxygen. At least he’d die with the most beautiful view he could have ever imagined- Evan and galaxies behind him.