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@boba-pearl-writes
HII! I'm Pearl!
THIS IS MY WRITING BLOG!!
My main blog is: @boba-pearl (some of my written stuff is still there under the tag of #pearl writes and BILYverse is still on my main blog but will be rb'd to this blog)
Tags:
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AND MY AO3 IS: that_boba_pearl
rosekiller bingo: only dialogue - @rosekillermicrofic - tw: mention of sex (kinda)
“Rosie?”
“Hm?”
“D’you think we’re made for each other?”
“What? Like… soulmates?”
“I guess. Panda thinks they’re real, that there really is someone out there who’d fit with you perfectly.”
“Are you sure you’d want that? Nature doesn’t deal out soulmates gently.”
“What do you mean?”
“Y’know black widows eat their male mates after they’re done with them.”
“That’s fucking weird. Are you saying you want me to eat you?”
“That’s kinky.”
“Wait, Rosie, you’re not answering my question. About people, not bugs.”
“Spiders aren’t technically insects, Bee. And, well… I guess having one person who’s supposed to be your everything doesn’t sit right with me. What if you don’t like them? What if they hate you?”
“Reggie says we’re plenty made for each other, though.”
“That’s different, Bee, you know that. Soulmates are stupid. You can’t even choose them. Even if they were real… I can’t imagine leaving you for anyone.”
“Aw, didn’t know you were such a romantic, Rosie.”
“Only for you, Bee.”
“Y’know-”
“Yeah?”
“I’d only like the idea of soulmates if mine was you.”
bingo with crossed out squares under the cut
Barty's obsessed with these, by the way.
Am I projecting? MIND YOUR DAMN BUSINESS.
hug - 9/28 - word count: 551 - @rosekillermicrofic - tw: mcd
“Travers is an absolute cunt, what was he thinking, sending you in there without cover?” Barty ranted, extinguishing the lights in his and Evan’s room with a swish of his wand. He climbed into bed and hugged Evan from behind, a bit too tight at first, causing Evan to wince. “Fuck, sorry, Ev.” Barty readjusted himself, loosening his grip, and Evan melted into him, tipping his head back onto Barty’s shoulder. “Your ribs okay?”
“They’re better now,” Evan muttered into Barty’s neck. He and Travers had been sent on some mission to burn down a known Order base, but Travers had up and defected from the plan halfway through, and Evan had taken a hex of some sort to the chest.
“I swear to fucking Merlin, the next person who-“
“Bee?” Evan’s soft question cut off Barty’s impassioned rant nearly instantly. Barty waited, expectant. “What would you do if I died?”
Evan could say he’d just asked the question because he was tired and it slipped out. But, honestly? He’d been wondering since they’d made plans to join the Dark Lord. They both knew it wasn’t going to be all fun and games, that they weren’t going to be safe all the time, but this mission had sent Evan back to the spiraling morbid curiosity he’d always had: if a tree fell in the forest, and no one was looking, would it make a sound? In other words, if he died, would anyone care?
“I wouldn’t let you,” Barty said, as if on instinct.
“Barty.”
“No, I mean- I would die before I let anyone hurt you, Rosie.” Evan wished he could take this to heart, wished he could stop wondering.
“You can’t promise that,” he said, instead, acknowledging the truth for what it was.
“Ev,” Barty asked, pleadingly, maybe an appeal to Evan to stop talking about this, to stop talking about the hopelessness of a future that wasn’t promised. If they were any sweeter people, if they were the kind of people to swear to each other a life together and the first bite from each others’ plates, Evan would’ve stopped talking. But they were two halves of a broken heart, scraped and bleeding as they tried to piece themselves back together. Barty sighed, understanding Evan’s silence. “I think… If you died, I would- I would kill whoever did it to you, and then. Fuck, Ev, I don’t think I could live without you.”
Evan nodded against the warmth of Barty’s shoulder, feeling his eyes slip shut. “I don’t think I could live without you either, Bee,” he mumbled. Distantly, as he fell into the clutches of sleep and the dreams it inevitably brought, he thought he felt teardrops against his cheek.
-x-
In another time, what seemed like a world away from the before, from the bittersweet luxury of life that they’d had, Barty stared into the darkness of a fate worse than death. He wasn’t scared.
After all, what was there to fear when he was walking into the arms of his love again? His only regret was not being able to kill Moody. Not being able to rip his heart out and rend it into pieces to make him feel an inch of the pain he’d brought on them.
I’m sorry, Rosie. I’ll see you soon.
late - rosekiller - trans!evan - @rosekillermicrofic - word count: 410
“So,” Barty said conversationally, plopping down on the couch next to his brooding boyfriend and giving him a meaningful glare. “You gonna tell me why you’ve been acting like even more of an arse than usual lately?”
Evan just snorted. “Pot or kettle?” he muttered, avoiding the question.
Barty, however, was done playing games. It’d been two weeks of Evan being even more prickly than usual, and he was starting to get genuinely worried. “Rosie,” he said softly, turning to the other man. “C’mon.”
After a long moment of avoiding eye contact, Evan looked up, biting at his lip. “I was…am…late,” he admitted, voice brittle.
Barty had a feeling he was missing something. “To what?” he asked, confused.
The taller man chuckled derisively. “No, Bee. Late. Like, I–”
Understanding dawned. “Oh! Oh,” he nodded, processing.
“Yeah.”
It only took Barty a few minutes to catch up, to begin formulating a list of possible plans. He’d certainly not seen this coming, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Nobody was dead, after all, or even dismembered. “Alright,” he shrugged, letting out a breath. “What’re we doing about it, then? Like, obviously we need to make an appointment with a healer, but which type do you want to go to? The ‘yay, we’re having a spawn’ type or ‘shit we’re having a spawn’ type?” He paused, considering. “Are they different types? Different offices? I–”
Evan, who looked dumbfounded, interrupted. “You’re not mad. You’re not…freaking out,” he said softly.
Barty bristled a bit at this. “‘Course not. I mean, of all the shit you’ve pulled from between your legs, it’s definitely the most surprising, but–” he stopped for a moment, reconsidering. “--Well. No. That time you hid those spliffs down there was fucking wicked. But yeah.”
Evan blinked a few times then muttered, “You didn’t sign up for this, though. You’re supposed to be dating a dude.”
“I am dating a dude. I’m just dating a dude who is capable of creating the bloody miracle of life. So we figure out what to do about that together, you know?” Barty said simply, grabbing Evan’s hand. “S’not going to change how I feel. I mean, whatever you want, we do. You don’t have to do anything with it, but if you want to…I think our kid could be fuckin’ insane. In a good way.”
The taller man looked relieved. “Oh,” he whispered, a smile forming over his lips. “All…alright, then.”
“Alright, then.”
storm - 9/4 - word count: 448 - @rosekillermicrofic
When Barty woke up, it was to what seemed like a fucking rainstorm inside his dorm. He closed his eyes, turning on his side, sure he was just dreaming - his dreams did tend to get rather strange sometimes - but then drew back in horror as the side of his pillow closest to the rain was absolutely drenched.
“What the fuck,” he whispered under his breath, sitting up in bed. He realized that Evan wasn’t next to him, as he usually would be, and that the curtains of his four poster bed were wide open.
He glanced around the room and there, in the middle of the space between his and Regulus’s beds sat Evan, staring at what looked like a small open terrarium on the ground. Inside the terrarium were several strange-looking bugs in a habitat full of moss and small plants and first that Evan had probably collected from outside. The bugs had shells that seemed to be every different color at once.
There was also a small lake of water collecting in the middle of the terrarium, courtesy of the indoor rainstorm.
Regulus would not be happy, Barty thought in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Evan was sat in the middle of the rain, some sort of spell blocking him from the water, staring wide eyed and rather endearingly at the bugs. It never ceased to amaze Barty how much his boyfriend had the patience to stare at those little creatures for hours on end.
Barty cast a small charm to keep himself dry, and waded over the wet floor to sit down beside Evan. Evan glanced over, surprised, but his expression quickly morphed into a soft smile.
“Hi Barty,” he said softly, as if trying not to scare the bugs.
“Hey love,” Barty replied, then gestured at the scene in front of them. “What’s going on?”
“I found these little guys near the forbidden forest so I figured why not,” Evan replied. He looked around the dorm, then, with wide eyes like he’d just realized the state their dorm room was in. “Oh, fuck, Bee, I’m sorry about your bed,” he said with a wince.
Barty waved him off. “S’alright. Just a small heating charm and it’ll be fine.” Barty stared at the bugs again, watching them climb over each other and puffs of smoke come out every time they opened their wings. “Besides, this is way more interesting.”
And, as Evan smiled and launched into an explanation about how the smoke was a natural defense mechanism from predators, and as Barty looked on fondly, he knew there was nowhere in the world he’d rather be.
Evan: Do you smell smoke?
Regulus: Barty, what did you do?
Barty: Why is it always my fault when something goes wrong. Evan could have easily been the one to light the couch on fire
Regulus:
Regulus: How the fuck did you light my couch on fire
Evan: Is anyone going to put it out or…?
8/11 - quill - word count: 461 - @rosekillermicrofic
“Reggie, I understand you’re trying to be an academic weapon but can you stop studying for at least a few minutes?” Barty said, his expression the picture of boredom.
Barty knew there would be a potions test soon and that, realistically, he would also probably have to study. He couldn’t find it in himself to care.
“Don’t call me that,” was the only response. Regulus continued scribbling notes into the margins of the notes he already had. Overkill, if you asked Barty.
Evan’s arm knocked against Barty’s, and Barty was made aware, for the hundredth time that day, that he was the only one not taking this test seriously. Whatever. Not like he wanted (or needed) to study.
He was just about to start groaning about how he needed more attention, when Evan held Barty’s wrist gently with his hand, pulling it towards him. Barty blinked in surprise and looked over at Evan.
“Hold on,” was the only explanation Barty got.
Then, he felt the cold press of the ink from Evan’s quill on his arm. He stared, mesmerized, as Evan started drawing patterns that vaguely resembled potions ingredients and the order in which to combine them, and could almost be counted as studying.
Only Evan was truly studying, though- Barty was staring at Evan’s lashes against his face as he concentrated, the way his dreads were falling out of their messy tie, just him. Needless to say, Barty was distracted.
“There,” Evan said quietly after what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours. Barty honestly couldn’t tell. “Now you know everything you need to.”
“Uh huh,” Barty said, glancing at the black ink on his arms, and then back at Evan, who was smiling. Beautiful, Barty’s brain supplied. It seemed to be the only word he could think at that moment.
Barty caught Evan’s hand with his own and held it, a tether as he got lost in Evan’s beautiful hazel eyes, trying to find the thoughts that lay within. Evan’s smile softened, and they looked at each other, drinking in the moment. Barty’s eyes dropped to Evan’s lips.
“Can you two please stop eye-fucking each other?” Regulus snapped, his eyes finally glancing up from his potions notes. “I’m trying to study here.”
“Shut up, Reggie,” Barty said, rolling his eyes, his hand still in Evan’s. “Not like you don’t fantasize about being railed by Potter every time you see him. It’s disgusting, honestly.”
“Thin ice, Bartemius,” Regulus ground out, and Barty and Evan laughed. Barty glanced at Evan, who was stifling his laughter in his hand that wasn’t holding Barty’s. Beautiful, Barty thought again, for there was no other word for him, for this moment.
And, at this moment, Barty was right where he wanted to be.
8/8 - return - word count: 307 - @rosekillermicrofic
Barty ruffled through his wardrobe, searching for something, and practically throwing his clothes on the floor as he picked through them. “Would the person who keeps stealing my fucking jumpers return them?” He said to no one in particular, more than a bit annoyed. “It’s fucking freezing.”
Evan, who was curled up on the couch in a jumper that was a bit too big on him, stayed completely silent.
Regulus glanced between Evan - who was completely content - and Barty - who was still ruffling through his clothes like a madman - and sighed. He went back to reading his book.
Pandora, who was throughly enjoying the whole situation, stifled a laugh behind her hand.
Dorcas shared a glance with Evan and rolled her eyes fondly at his mischievous grin.
Barty groaned, seemingly done with his fruitless search, and flung himself backwards onto his bed. “I swear to Merlin, when I find out who has my favorite jumper, I will-“
He cut himself off, his eyes finally landing on Evan. Evan, who was wearing the jumper he’d been searching for.
“You’ll what, Bee?” Evan asked, amused, as he fidgeted with the drawstrings on his - no, Barty’s - jumper.
“Erm,” Barty said, intelligently. Evan stared at him pointedly. The air between them seemed almost tangible with tension.
Suddenly, Pandora giggled, unable to stifle her laugh any longer, and it was as if the tension had been broken.
Barty got up from his spot on the bed and crossed the room, dropping down next to Evan on the couch. He put his arm around Evan’s shoulder, the heat from the fireplace combined with his proximity to Evan providing him with enough warmth.
“You’ll what, Bee?” Evan mumbled, repeating his earlier question as he snuggled into Barty’s side.
Barty bit back a smile, pulling Evan closer. “Never mind.”
8/5 - desperate - word count: 773 - pt 2 of this - @rosekillermicrofic
Barty couldn’t stop staring at Evan’s face.
They’d gotten out of the party as soon as Evan realized that Barty’s nose wasn’t going to stop bleeding without going to the hospital wing. That was a few hallways ago, and Evan’s hand was still in Barty’s.
Every single nerve ending on Barty’s hands - which Barty, although he knew nothing about the human body, assumed was a lot - was on fucking fire. Barty looked down at their joined hands and brushed his finger over Evan’s knuckles just to see what would happen, to relieve some of that restlessness, and Evan’s hand stiffened in his. Barty considered stopping for a second, because he didn’t want Evan to ignore him again, didn’t want to have to go through the past week all over again.
But then, Evan’s hand relaxed in his, and he looked back up. Evan's cheeks were slightly red, barely visible over his dark skin, but Barty could tell anyways. How could he not, after having stared at Evan all these years, so intently like he was trying to memorize him?
Barty wondered for a brief moment if this was overstepping, if he was close to messing this up again. But, honestly? If there’d been any overstepping it had been that night, when he’d tasted Evan’s lips. And those words from when they were at the party played over and over in his mind. “We’re good, Bee.”
So what did he have to fear?
Barty gazed at Evan’s face, at how those beautiful hazel eyes determinedly looked straight ahead, at those blond dreads falling out of Evan’s messy ponytail. On an impulse, Barty brushed the dreads away from Evan’s eyes with his free hand, the tips of his fingers brushing Evan’s face. Evan sucked in a sharp breath and stopped in his tracks. Barty stopped a few steps ahead of him, not anticipating the sudden pause.
“Barty,” Evan whispered, his eyes sad - almost scared - as he turned to face Barty. “What are we doing?”
Barty raised an eyebrow. “Walking to the hospital wing?”
Evan huffed in frustration. “No, Bee, you- I- the fucking kiss.” The way Evan said those words scared Barty. Like Evan couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that they’d kissed. Like the forgiveness Barty had just gotten was about to be taken back.
“What about it?” Barty asked, trying for a confident tone, but his voice shook like it was carrying the weight of the world.
“Was it real?” Evan asked - or more whispered, his voice like a breath released into the air between them, a secret just for this empty hallway.
“Was it for you?” Barty asked, desperate. Please, Merlin, a small voice in the back of his head begged. If I’ve ever wanted one thing in my fucking life, this is it.
“I-” Evan looked like it physically pained him to say the words. Barty could see the beginning of tears in his eyes. “Yeah, Bee. It- when we kissed-” Evan trailed off, the adoring look in his eyes, the way he looked at Barty like he’d hung the sun and the stars and the entire damn sky said more than his words ever could.
“Yeah,” Barty said. “Me too.” His voice seemed too loud, too cracked for such a tender confession. He always thought himself too rough, too violent to be loved, but then came Evan- Unassuming, quietly crazy, beautiful Evan Rosier holding his entire fucking heart in his hand, beating and bloody.
“Fuck,” Evan said, his eyes wide. Barty grinned, pulling Evan closer by the hand he was still holding.
“Yeah, fuck,” Barty said. Evan’s hands clasped the front of Barty’s shirt, crumpling the fabric in his hands like he was holding onto sand. Barty slipped an arm around Evan’s waist, pulling him close, closer. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yeah,” Evan said, as one of his hands slipped up to cup the back of Barty’s neck, pulling him down to his level. “Yeah, you can fucking kiss me.”
When their lips met, when they sunk into each other again, it was like they’d somehow melded- like Barty had been made whole by Evan, and Evan by Barty.
Evan tasted like fruit punch and firewhiskey, because of the party. There was also a strange metallic taste Barty couldn’t - and didn’t particularly want to, right now - figure out.
“Bee, your nose,” Evan said, breaking away from Barty’s hold. Oh. That’s what it had been. “We need to get you to the hospital wing.” Barty pouted.
“Five more minutes?” He asked, not really a question, because he knew Evan was thinking the same thing he was.
Evan kissed him again
8/3 - interpret - word count: 781 - @pandalilymicrofics
Taking Pandora over to visit Lily’s parents and Petunia was probably the worst idea Lily had ever had, and that included her drunken kiss with Barty back in high school. It wasn’t her parents that were the problem, it was more her sister. Well. It was more accurate to say it was all Petunia that was the problem.
Her parents didn’t have a problem with her coming out to them as bisexual. Why would they have one now that she had a girlfriend? That part was pretty self explanatory.
Petunia hadn’t had a problem with her being bisexual either. As a matter of fact, Petunia had actually taken her to her first pride parade, wearing an outrageously bright rainbow t-shirt all the while. But then why did she have a problem with Pandora? Literally the sweetest person on Earth- sweet, playful, funny, and, oh, did she mention, the love of her life?
Lily had always been a logical person, and from the moment she started talking about Pandora, she’d noticed Petunia’s blank face and felt the disapproval radiating from her sister in waves. She’d been able to interpret that as Petunia not liking Pandora.
So. Why again had she thought this was a good idea?
They were at the dinner table, Pandora chatting to Lily’s parents happily, while throwing nervous looks at Petunia every once in a while. Petunia, for her part, was picking at her food, the corner of her lips pulled down. Pandora looked like she thought she might be eaten alive any second. Lily wanted so desperately to pull her into her arms.
“Petunia? A word?” Lily said, more of a demand than a question. Petunia looked slightly surprised at how dull Lily’s tone was and she fought hard not to roll her eyes. Before she got up, Lily squeezed Pandora’s hand lightly and reassured her. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.”
Lily walked to the living room, out of way enough that her parents and Pandora couldn’t hear what was being said. Petunia followed her without a word.
“Why do you hate my girlfriend?” She asked, getting straight to the point. Petunia looked rather affronted at the statement.
“I don’t hate your girlfriend.”
“Then talk to her,” Lily asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Petunia pursed her lips, not saying anything. “‘Tuney, she’s Pandora. She’s the sweetest person ever- literally what do you have to fear?”
“I’m not scared of her,” Petunia said incredulously. “She’s nice and I do really like her.” Petunia hesitated for a second. Lily was a bit more relaxed now that she’d said that out loud, but she was still confused.
“But…?” she prompted.
“But, well. Lils, I- You hang out with her too often,” Petunia said, her tone almost that of a whiny kid.
“I ‘hang out’ with my girlfriend too often?” Lily asked sarcastically, putting air quotes around the words.
“Lily,” her sister said, almost like she was pleading with her to understand her point of view. Lily softened.
“‘Tuney, I love you. But I also love Panda. So, so much.” Lily sighed. “I just want you two to get along,” she said, almost feeling like the little kid who’d looked up to her big sister so much, who’d loved her unconditionally and been loved back in return. Even when things were rocky- especially then.
“Lily, I- it’s stupid,” Petunia muttered the last two words under her breath. Lily waited. “I just don’t want us to grow apart again.”
“‘Tuney, we won’t,” Lily said, surprised by the emotion in the confession. Petunia looked unconvinced, the beginnings of tears in her eyes. Lily put out her hands like she was four and Petunia was six again, and she was asking for a hug. Except now Lily was nineteen and Petunia twenty one and nothing had changed because Petunia pulled her in like she had all those years ago, because she was sinking into her sister’s favorite hoodie and it felt like home, like them again.
“Petunia, you’re my sister. Obviously I’ll always love you,” Lily said, wiping at her eyes, when they pulled away. “But- Pandora’s the love of my life. I- ‘Tuney, I can’t describe in words how much I love her.” Petunia laughed at that, albeit fondly.
“Oh, you’ve tried. Many times,” she said, with a shit-eating grin. “Especially when you’re drunk.” Petunia put a hand to her forehead, sighing dramatically. “‘Oh, ‘Tuney, Pan’s just so perfect, I love her so much. She’s so beautiful and her hands. Oh, her hands-’” Lily cut off her sister, slapping her on the arm, and they both burst into laughter.
“Oh, god, do I really sound like that?”
“No,” Petunia said, smug. “You’re worse.”
7/29 - advice - word count: 88 - @rosekillermicrofic
“Why would I take relationship advice from you?” Regulus asked skeptically.
Barty looked down at Evan, who was sleeping with his head on Barty’s shoulder. His mouth was slightly open, and Barty smiled softly as he dropped his head back on Evan’s. “Well,” he said slowly. “I do seem to be doing better in the love department than you.” Regulus rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything more.
Barty looked at Regulus pointedly.
“Fine, Barty,” Regulus groaned, conceding. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but- tell me more.”
7/29 - reflection - word count: 976 - @rosekillermicrofic
Barty and Evan haven’t been talking to each other for a week.
It wasn’t a conscious decision. Or, at least, not on both sides. For Evan it might’ve been. Barty didn’t know. All he remembered was that night, when he was drunk and Evan was high and Barty probably was a bit, too.
They’d been looking at the sky, and Evan had made some stupid joke about Regulus always watching them. And Barty had laughed, because it was funny. Simple as that. Reg knew they both did stupid shit, so he supervised them, like they were little kids who’d been given scissors. And, honestly, that comparison wasn’t that far from the truth.
Barty looked back at Evan, to tell him another stupid joke, because that’s just how things between them were. They said things, they laughed, they leaned a bit closer every time, over and over.
Evan was already looking at him, his hazel eyes soft as he gazed at Barty like he was drinking him in. Barty’s mind went blank. He blinked. He inched his hand towards Evan’s, inched himself closer to Evan. Evan leaned forward. Barty matched his movement. That’s just what they did, right?
Evan’s lips landed on his own, and Barty’s hand caught Evan’s. And fuck.
Fuck.
That was not what they did. What friends did.
Barty pulled away and stood up. He ran away. Evan had kissed him, and he’d run away.
Which brings them to now. The stupid Gryffindor party that Dorcas had wanted them all to go to, that Regulus and Pandora had immediately agreed to because, surprise surprise, they were also dating Gryffindors. Bloody traitors, the lot of them, Barty thought bitterly as he leaned against the table with the drinks which, surprisingly, contained a vast variety. At least the Gryffindors knew how to have fun, Barty conceded.
He stared at the opposite corner of the room, where Evan was with Dorcas, talking in hushed whispers and laughing at other people’s outfits, as usual. Except this time, Marlene was with them too, an arm thrown around Dorcas’s shoulder casually.
Evan never looked at him. Never so much as glanced back.
Suddenly, a figure with black hair blocked his vision. Barty recognized him right away, and how could he not? The Sirius Black. A reflection of Regulus, except with less bite and more bark. Barty pulled his lips into a smirk. Oh, he was going to have fun with this. If he was going to be left alone by all his friends and ignored, then he deserved at least this bit of fun.
“Crouch,” Sirius said, with a displeased expression.
“Black,” Barty acknowledged.
“Stop looking at Marlene and Dorcas like that,” Sirius said, cutting right to the chase, his voice flat. This seemed… different from their usual, somewhat bantering, somewhat insulting exchanges. “Are you fucking homophobic?”
What. “What the fuck are you on about?” Barty asked, too drunk to be able to even start to comprehend how Sirius had arrived at that conclusion.
“You’re staring at them like you hate them.” And, okay, no. Barty was definitely not taking that.
“I thought you were smart, Black,” he said, voice cold. Sirius went to interrupt, but Barty cut him off. “Dorcas is my friend, and I love her like a sister. Though, you wouldn’t know much about loving siblings, would you?”
And there.
Barty saw the exact moment the question clicked in Sirius’s mind. The exact moment his teeth grinded against each other and his fists clenched.
“Fuck you,” Sirius spat out. Barty smiled, something that looked completely innocent, but, really, he just wanted to egg Sirius on. He reveled in that anger. In that moment where you weren’t sure whether you were going to be punched or insulted. Barty opened his mouth to say something else, but Sirius’s fist hit his face.
Barty backed up against the wall with a groan, clutching his face. By the wetness on his fingers, he could tell his nose was bleeding. Fuck Sirius, he thought venomously.
“What the fuck, Barty?” That was a new voice, though Barty was surprised at the harshness. He’d never heard Evan sound like this before, this angry. Usually, he wasn’t the type of person to raise his voice at anyone, but- wait. Evan?
“Rosie?” Barty whispered. At that moment, he could care less about everyone around them, about what had just happened with the older Black, and even about his broken nose. He lifted his head up, only half aware of the blood now dripping onto the front of his shirt. And, fuck. Evan looked heavenly, his blonde dreads tied half up, his eyeliner slightly smudged, glaring at Barty like this was all somehow his fault. Barty couldn’t care less. Evan was here, talking to him. “Why’re you ‘ere?” he asked, voice coming out slightly strange because of the blood clogging his nose.
At this question, Evan’s glare softened. “I’ll always be here, dumbass. Especially for when you get yourself in trouble.” Barty tried to smile, on cloud fucking nine because Evan was finally talking to him, saying sweet things and being nice, but then he winced, his hands coming up to cover his nose. Right. The broken nose. Evan frowned, reaching his hand to cradle Barty’s cheek. He gently pried Barty’s hands away from his nose and cleaned up the blood with a tap of his wand and a whispered spell.
“We might need to get you to Pomfrey,” Evan said thoughtfully, as blood started oozing out of Barty’s nose again.
“Are we good, though?” Barty asked, wanting to make sure that he hadn’t fucked up. That the last few days had just been a fluke, some kind of cosmic error, that they’d go back to normal. Just Barty and Evan.
“Yeah,” Evan looked up at Barty, his expression unreadable, but his eyes fond. “We’re good, Bee.”
pt 2 here
6/12 - conclusion - word count: 144 - @rosekillermicrofic
“So, to get to the Gryffindor common room, we need an inside man-“
“Man? Don’t you mean person? Shit, I thought you believed in equal rights, Rosie.” Evan and Barty were planning on sneaking into the next Gryffindor party. Or, well, how it was going, Evan was planning and Barty was being a menace.
“Shut up, Barty. An inside person! So, in conclusion-“
“The fuck is this, an essay for McGonagall?” Barty leaned back in his chair, so far back that it was a wonder he didn’t tip over entirely. He had a careless smirk on his face, like he was being infuriating on purpose, and Evan knew he was.
“Shut up, Barty,” Evan said, as he glared at him. Barty’s smirk grew wider and Evan could guess the next words out of Barty’s mouth before he said them.
“Make me.”
And Evan did.
6/8 - sugar - word count: 376 - @rosekillermicrofic
Evan was sulking.
Him and Barty had gone to Hogsmeade the other day, and bought a bunch of sweets from Honeydukes. Evan, in particular, had stocked up on his favorite - sugar quills.
He’d shoved all of them into a box under his bed for later when they’d gotten back, and had slipped into Barty’s bed. They’d talked, and kissed, and then there’d been a bit less talking.
That wasn’t why Evan was sad, though, obviously. No, the reason Evan was sulking was because of what happened the next day.
He’d woken up and checked under his bed, inside the box that he’d made sure to lock. His sugar quills were gone. All of them. Just fucking disappeared into thin air.
“Reg,” he called out. “Did you take my sugar quills?”
“Shut the fuck up.” Which was not a no, true, but it was as close to an answer as Evan was going to get. He also knew Regulus didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, so it wouldn’t make sense that he’d taken them.
And Barty… he didn’t have reason to suspect Barty. After all, they’d gone together and Barty didn’t even like sugar quills that much. Though, there wasn’t any candy that he wouldn’t eat.
But for now, he wasn’t a suspect.
“Bee,” Evan whined. “Someone took my sugar quills.” As soon as Barty came into view, Evan knew that something was off. He was smirking, and had a look on his face. The kind of look he always had when he got up to something that he knew would get him into trouble.
“Aw, Rosie,” he drawled. “That fuckin’ sucks.” He leaned down to press a kiss onto Evan’s closed lips, like a silent comfort. Evan smiled and pulled him in closer by the front of his shirt. Usually Evan would be opposed to kissing this early in the morning but Barty, surprisingly, didn’t taste of morning breath.
He tasted heavenly, like smoke and sickly sweetness. Almost like the taste of-
“Wait a fucking second.”
Evan pulled back, narrowing his eyes at Barty. He’d been an idiot to trust him, especially with matters where candies were involved.
“Did you take my sugar quills?” The laugh that Barty let out just confirmed it. “You prick.”
7/1 - tear - word count: 508 - @rosekillermicrofic
Barty lay awake in the dead of night, like always. He was on his back, slightly overheating as Evan was sleeping cuddled up to him and the covers were pulled up high. They slept like this every night, since Evan ran cold.
Barty was always a bit too warm for comfort, but he would die before he asked Evan to move. This was… soft. Domestic. Something he never thought they could have, now that they were working for the Dark Lord.
Barty stared at the ceiling, his arm starting to go numb since it’d been under his head for so long. His other hand was tracing shapes on Evan’s arm that was slung across his chest. Tracing along scars, old and new, familiar tattoos, and nonsensical patterns. Tracing softly, so that Evan wouldn’t wake up.
A bit later, maybe a few minutes, maybe an hour, he was suddenly aware that Evan was moving next to him, his arm around him growing tighter. He turned to Evan, worried as he saw his face scrunched up in an expression Barty could clearly identify - fear. He was mumbling words in his sleep - “no”, and “help”, and “Barty”.
“Rosie,” Barty whispered, gently shaking Evan by the shoulder. His shaking grew more insistent as Evan started breathing hard and twisting away from Barty’s grip. “Ev. Evan. Wake up.”
Evan’s eyelids fluttered like he was trying to pull himself away from the clutches of his dreams - nightmares, more likely - and he sat up, breathing hard, and his eyes wild. Barty pushed himself up, too, and his heart broke as he saw a tear slip down Evan’s face.
“Ev?” Evan turned to look at him, and Barty was just about to ask if he could touch him when Evan wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug, burying his face into Barty’s shoulder. Barty wrapped Evan in a hug that was just as tight. “What’s wrong?”
Evan mumbled something into Barty’s shoulder. “I didn’t hear that, angel,” Barty said gently, and Evan pulled away from him, wiping at his eyes.
“You’re okay,” Evan said, as if that phrase carried all the weight in the world. He still had an iron grip on Barty’s shoulders, like he was scared that, if he stopped holding Barty to him, he would disappear.
“I’m okay, sweetheart.” Barty ran his hands up and down Evan’s sides, a quiet reassurance. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”
“No- well-” Evan hesitated for a second, before settling on an answer. “Nightmares. You know how it is.” And, yeah. Barty did know- after all, this was expected, when they were in danger every day. Barty pulled Evan into a hug again, the both of them just staying in each others’ warmth.
“You were dead, Barty,” Evan said, voice choked as if it took everything out of him to say those words. Barty squeezed him closer, like making sure nothing would ever come between them. And nothing would, if he had a say in it.
“You can’t get rid of me that easy, Ev.”
