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A shift in the bed, a little sigh as a warm form pressed against his back. Barty curled around him, dragging an arm over his side and pulling him back a little. It was enough to bring Peter just above that edge of slumber. And he smiled, bringing one hand up to cover the other man’s. Nothing was better than waking up like this.
There were very few things Peter had ever been sure of in his life. He was sure that he was absolutely shite with divination, that he thought the whole practice of it was pointless. He was sure he hated rhubarb and sweet potato. He was even sure of his friends.
… For the most part. His smile waned just a little.
Sometimes it was hard to know where he stood, especially when they were younger. Remus and Sirius were stuck in each other’s gravitational pull- constantly orbiting each other and barely keeping from crashing together at any given moment. Sirius and James had been attached at the hip since the first day in their shared dorm. They bounced off each other, fed each other’s energies, brought each other up in the best and the worst of ways.
And where did that leave him? Sometimes, Peter felt like he was at the edge of the trio. His insecurities ate him alive, rearing its head like a particularly ugly troll. It whispered that they didn’t need him. The group wouldn’t have changed or even noticed if he had just disappeared… Sometimes those hissing doubts got so loud.
Not that it was anyone’s fault. He couldn’t say he remembered a time that the three didn’t hold out a hand for him; a time that they didn’t throw their arms around his shoulders and drag him into whatever shenanigans they were planning. It was just… Always how he felt. Like they were always a step and a half ahead of him and Peter just couldn’t keep up.
Peter hated feeling left behind. He hated feeling powerless and useless.
“Y’r over thinkin’ again.” The voice in his ear shocked him from his thoughts, but in the best kind of way. Peter felt his smile returning. He would never know how Barty managed to sound so groggy and so perfect while half asleep and sing-songing in his ear.
“Oh yeah?” Peter asked as he shifted, straining to peer over his shoulder at his boyfriend. The lazy, half lidded eyes that stared back at him were full of a sleepy mirth. It made his chest tighten, insides squirming like a silly, love struck school boy. “And how would you know that? You were snoring until a minute ago.”
“And you started getting tenser and tenser. Curled up like an overcooked prawn.” Barty’s arm squeezed around him; teasing, but also reassuring. There was no one who read him quite so well.
There was no one Peter Pettigrew was quite so sure of, besides Barty.
Barty had understood his need for keeping the relationship quiet. He understood that Peter’s whole life was balanced on the edge of the knife, at the moment. Peter had to keep a certain mask with his position; had to keep his friends in the dark as he gathered information and decided what was worth giving away to his new lord.
It isn’t personal. Peter reminded himself, the faces of his friends flitting through his mind. And it wasn’t. Someone just finally saw his true potential; and it hadn’t been the order. The dark lord promised him protection, power, and recognition.
“Petey-pie. Babe, your thinking is reeeaaaaally getting in the way of what I’m trying to do over here.” There was a wiggle from the body behind him, and Peter couldn’t tell if Barty was trying to get comfortable to get back to sleep, or be seductive. It could have been a combination of the two; either way he laughed and rolled over to face his lover. Before he had even finished rolling, Barty’s hands were on his face, the rough pads of his thumbs brushing just below his eyes.
He wasn’t sure if it was the touch or Barty’s perfect blue eyes meeting his own that finally calmed the raging storm in his mind. Peter reached up to take one of those hands and card their fingers together, bringing it down to kiss Barty’s wrist.
“There he is,” a little purr and those blues back to being half lidded. Peter grinned before leaning in to catch his boyfriend’s lips in a tender kiss.
Everything would be alright, he decided, as long as he could keep Barty.
Barty blew everything he’d ever experienced out of the water. Peter hadn’t had much experience with other relationships; a few failed flings, some bad dates in school ( that his friends had absolutely followed him on, prats ), the crush he’d had on Gilderoy, and the spin the bottle kisses he’d shared with Sybil… None of those feelings compared to the squirming in his stomach when Barty shot a smile his way.
He encouraged Peter in so many ways. Barty wanted to see Peter stand up for himself, to broaden his horizons, but he also protected Peter. The raid they’d been a part of together, the few meetings that Peter had attended while hidden beneath his mask; Barty was standing right next to him. When Peter imagined himself in a relationship as a kid, this was what he’d always thought of.
And he tried to be that strong for Barty, too. When the nightmares crept in and Barty was reminded of his father, of the imperius used to keep him calm and contained, Peter would spend the night rubbing his back. He’d whisper promises, reassurances, and they’d spend the wee hours curled so tight that Peter wondered if they might just end up tangled together.
Kisses. Warm, soft lips against his face, his forehead, and his lips. Barty seemed determined to keep Peter’s attention on him and Peter was decidedly ready to give everything to the other man. A few moments of lazy rolling, of shared kisses and dragging hands against each other. Things might have gone further, if not for the near explosive growl from Barty’s stomach.
They both froze; Barty on top of Peter, hands on either side of the ex-gryffindor’s head. The giggles started with a little wheeze of air from Barty’s lips, a snicker following from Peter before devolving into full blown laughter.
“I mean, I could always eat you up for breakfast.” There was a suggestive waggle of brown eyebrows from Crouch, a cheekier smile on his face.
“Yeah, not exactly a filling breakfast, love.”
“I mean, you’d fill something.”
Barty cackled, even as Peter swatted at his side and rolled the pair of them around until he could stand up from bed.
“As lovely as that sounds, we do have work to do today, anyway.” Peter said, fetching his trousers from the floor and pulling them on. “Can’t laze in bed the entire time.”
“You could. You just don’t love me.” Barty’s dramatic and very clearly false statement was partnered with a dramatic sigh and throwing an arm over his eyes. That didn’t stop him from lifting the arm up to check that Peter was paying attention, though. Peter could practically hear him saying no use in wasting a good tantrum if no one is paying attention! He cracked a smile, taking the three steps back to the bed so he could give him another kiss.
“Would a man who didn’t love you offer to fix you some waffles for breakfast?” He could see the consideration on Barty’s face, that stomach giving another growl.
“... With strawberries and cream?” He almost looked suspicious, as if he were staring down some sort of trap. To be fair, Peter was trying to lure him into being a productive adult… Not that he was even sure what Barty did all day.
“Anything less would be a crime.” Peter promised, stepping back from the bed, but stalling. He reached a hand out, just in his lover’s reach. “I’ll even do a little fry up. Pretty sure we have some sausage and bacon left.”
“Sure, but you won’t give me your sausage–”
“Barty.” Peter sounded absolutely exasperated, but it earned a full and honest cackle from the taller of the pair. Finally, Crouch reached out and took Peter’s hand. For once, he was quite pleased that he was a little on the heftier side. The tug that Barty gave absolutely bordered on attempting to pull him back into bed. Peter countered, tugging Barty back and dragging him from the mattress, much to the annoyance of his boyfriend.
“How am I supposed to resist you when you’re just so big and strong?” There was another little sigh, Barty’s wrist pressed to his forehead like some delicate flower, but even he couldn’t stop from grinning like an idiot.
“If you keep this up, I’ll be cooking lunch instead.” Peter huffed, but Barty was actually getting to his feet now. Much to his relief, he wasn’t sure he could have managed to haul him down stairs.
“Ugh, fiiine.” Barty bent over to grab his trousers, but he didn’t put them on. He threw them over his shoulder, smacking Peter’s ass before he strode past. Peter gave a surprised little noise- even if he really shouldn’t have been. The ass smack was practically an every day thing. “You’re working the late shift at the Leaky right?”
“Yeah,” Peter answered as he followed the taller out. “Picked up the closing shift.”
“Perfect. I’ll come round after I’m finished and keep you some company.” Barty shot a wink at Peter, pausing at the door to the bathroom. “Cat call, start a fight… Y’know, the usual.”
“Wouldn’t be a Tuesday night without you and Evan playin’ slapsies, love.” Peter laughed back. He waved Barty off, heading down stairs to start their breakfast.
As they shared a meal, more than a few berries, and flicked whipped cream back and forth, the reality of their world was the furthest from Peter’s mind. For just these few, precious moments, he let himself be truly happy.