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There was absolutely nothing Evan Rosier wanted more than to die. He was at a Slytherin party, standing in the corner, his green tie hanging loose around his neck. His only comfort was the glass of firewhiskey in his hand as the music boomed throughout the room, only making him dread existence more.
The Slytherins had won the game, and thanks to that, the entire common room was filled with people from all different houses, even the Ravenclaws, who had lost. They were just here for a good time. A good time Evan was not having.
He had multiple issues. One of them was the fight he had with his father, who would not tell him what was happening in the world. The Dark Lord was rising to power, and he did not know the specifics. He was seventeen already, for Merlin’s sake, and adult. He deserved to know, he was entitled to the information.
The second issue was Barty. The idiot had not gotten drunk, which was uncharacteristic of him, but he was acting like he had a few too many shots anyway. His school shirt was currently hanging open, and some 6th year’s tongue had inexplicably found itself on his torso. She was drunk, and even though Evan rarely cared for others, for some reason when it was Barty she was trying to get with, he would advise her to get sober and rethink her choice.
Barty was slowly becoming a big issue in Evan’s life, and for a good reason. Evan was almost sure that he fancied Barty. This was very bad. He was a Rosier, a follower of the Dark Lord. He could not fancy boys. He recognized, however, that it was pointless to deny it or try to change his mind. It was just an infatuation, it would go away soon enough. Maybe if Evan was lucky it would turn out that he wasn’t gay. Maybe he would fancy a girl at some point, and he would marry her, have children and live a normal life, preserving the qualities and traditions that were so important to his family.
That plan was not looking to appealing then, when Evan’s eyes kept darting to the boy a year younger than him, with bright eyes, soft hair, who was currently dancing on a table. Oh well.
Evan accidentally locked eyes with Barty for a moment, and the boy grinned before returning his attention to the girl next to him. Evan sighed and took a sip of his drink. His life was going downhill. He fancied a boy, who fancied girls. Not that it mattered, it wasn’t like Evan would actually ever consider being with him, that would be a dishonour to his family. He simply envied Barty. However, Barty was a pureblood, so it’s not like that would be an issue…
Evan’s family never actually explicitly stated they would not have a queer as a son, it could be deduced from the rest of their conservative views, but it was a possibility that-
No.
Evan’s parents’ views were also his own. He would never be with a mudblood, for example. He would never be with a blood traitor. Barty’s father hadn’t joined the Dark Lord, but one’s parents don’t define one. Evan could almost hear Dorcas’ laugh at that. Don’t you see the hypocrisy? Evan couldn’t. Being mudblood was something you were born as. You couldn’t change, learn to be pureblood. You could learn to not be a blood traitor, however.
Barty caught Evan’s eye again. He kept the contact this time, and hopped off the table, heading towards him.
“What’s up mate? Not having a good time?”
“You seem to be”, Evan said sourly.
“Not what I asked”, Barty tutted.
Evan turned away.
“Hey, seriously, what is it?”
Evan pressed his back to the wall, not escaping, not giving him an answer, either.
Evan suspected Barty viewed him as moody, humourless, sad. He had learnt over the years that when he was silent, it was best to just stay, not saying a word. So Barty stayed, standing next to Evan. His eyes began darting across the room. Evan tracked Barty’s vision, trying to tell what, or rather who he was looking at.
His eyes stopped, and Evan deducted he was looking at Remus Lupin.
“Urgh. Gryffindors”, Evan tried to say in solidarity with the obvious disdain Barty must have had for the half-blood freak.
“Hm?” Barty asked, sounding zoned out.
“Gryffindors. You’re staring at Lupin. I’m saying they’re horrible”.
Barty shifted, his back a little closer to Evan’s against the wall.
“Actually, I think he’s quite handsome”.
Evan froze. “You’re sure you haven’t had anything to drink?” he asked.
Barty’s face flashed with hurt for a moment, then returned to normal. “Not today. I want to make sure I remember everything. Just in case”.
“Just in case of what?”
Barty’s lips parted as he thought of a response. Evan’s stomach did a summersault and he took a step back. He studied the other boy’s face. There was an impending feeling of doom settling in his gut, a realisation that perhaps he was absolutely fucked. He was starting to feel like this wasn’t an infatuation. He was starting to feel like he was in love.
Before Evan could start to think of the practical consequences of this, Barty spoke.
“In case something happens. Between me and… someone”.
“Someone?” Evan raised a brow. “You don’t mean Lupin?”
“He wasn’t my initial intention” Barty grumbled.
“Then who was?” Evan asked.
Barty looked him in the eye, looking slightly panicked and amused at the same time. “Evan…”
“What?” he asked.
“No. You”.
Evan blinked. Once, twice, three times. “You’d… consider me as a partner? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Merlin, Rosier, why are you so uptight? Consider you as a partner, who says stuff like that?”
Evan pressed his lips into a line. “Answer me!” he growled, grabbing Barty’s collar.
Barty froze, and Evan realised he had erupted with anger unsuitable for the situation. He didn’t let go, however. He needed to know.
Barty looked down at Evan’s hand, seeming hypnotised.
“Who wouldn’t, darling?”
Evan abruptly let go of his shirt, pushing him lightly, stepping back. His friend looked properly panicked now, something rare for him.
“You don’t… You’re…” Barty’s words were cut off by his fast breaths and nervous lip-licking.
Evan didn’t quite know how to react. The boy he was unfortunately falling in love with liked him back, or so it seemed. Evan didn’t want to let Barty down. He didn’t want to be with a man, either, and tarnish the family name, going against what he believes in.
He reached for Barty’s wrist, gripping it harshly, dragging him up the stairs to his dorm. Thankfully, Snape, Avery and Mulciber weren’t there. He sat Barty down on his bed, and stood over him in silence.
“What are you thinking, Ev? Please. Tell me what you think”.
Evan ran his hands through his hair.
“I cannot be with a boy”, he said.
“I’m pureblood!” Barty let out a breath of relief. “It doesn't matter, Evan. We’re followers of the Dark Lord. That’s all that matters”.
“What of my family, then?” Evan asked, pacing. He had already considered what Barty brought up. He was right. They were pureblood, the best of the best wizards. It shouldn’t matter. Yet, it did.
Barty rolled his eyes. “You think my dad would be happy to know I’m gay?”
Evans’ eyes darted up from the floor to him.
“You should value their opinion less, Evan. You’re your own person”.
Evan was searching for an answer, at least some clue, in Barty’s eyes. Was it truly okay? He didn’t even know yet if he was really gay. If he refused Barty now, he could still…
He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to refuse Barty. He wanted him so much, it was scary. He felt as if he was falling.
Barty stood up. He reached for Evan’s face, soft fingertips brushing his cheek. Evan absolutely melted.
“It’ll be okay”, Barty breathed.
Evan shuffled forward, inch by inch closing the distance between them. Their noses were almost touching. His heart sped up, being this close to him. He could do it. He could do it. It was okay. He could feel this way. It was okay.
He closed the final bit of space between them, sinking into a kiss. It was intoxicating. It was all he could ever want. It was like flying, like climbing the tallest mountain, like diving in the deepest sea. The deep, deep sea of passion and desire. All that mattered was Barty, his lips, his hair, the skin Evan felt under his fingers as he gripped his waist. All that mattered was the way Barty turned slowly, pushing Evan to sit on the bed, never once breaking contact. All that mattered was that Barty felt the same.
Fuck having a wife, a normal life. He wanted this. Nothing less, nothing more. This. Him. Barty. The beautiful boy he for some reason was lucky enough to have latched onto his lips. The boy who changed his life. The boy who calmed the hurricane in Evan’s mind. The boy who would flood his head with love instead.
Barty, who would make everything okay. Nothing else mattered. His life was endless, nothing would ever trouble him again. His life would never be bad again. He would never be angry. He would never be in pain. He would never have any issue. He would not need anything more than this. His life was turning around. Barty was turning it around.