Barty was gone— fucking hammered. Two sheets to the wind, and the joint he was lighting on his balcony wasn’t helping. He struggled against the wind, his fingers shaky. Eventually it lit, and the strength of the high had him slumped in a chair, sucking the joint, greedy for more.
He and Evan were at a club— some underground thing in Knockturn Alley, filled with werewolves and vampires, and a surprisingly handsome looking Goblin alone at the bar. Music was loud there— and everyone was dancing, and fuck if the bartender knew how to pour a drink, Barty was fucked within the first hour they were there, and Evan kept nosing at his neck as he hummed,” Do you want another, B?”
And then they were dancing, if you could really call it that. The music deep and slow, the crowd more drunkenly kissing each other, or getting off in a slow grind. Evan had a thigh between Barty’s, and Barty had his hands firm on Evan's ass as they danced.
It was blinding, being that close, their dark marks glamoured, as Barty got to take in Evan in that vest, with low rise jeans, his pale skin on full display, the bruises Barty had pressed into his neck— his chest, were on clear display for anyone in there, and Barty was a few seconds away of begging Evan to go at it with him right there, in the crowded club.
Evan pulled away, barely inches as he said,” Do you wanna go home.” He breathed it into Barty’s ear, something wet and hot that had Barty squeezing his ass with nothing more than a pathetic,”Please,” leaving his mouth.
They had taken another shot before they left— which Barty realised only when it was put into his hand that Evan had ordered doubles, and nearly fell on his ass at the burn of the tequila. Evan and him left quickly after that—and Barty you see was expecting something, if not fucking Evan, then getting off in the shower, or at least Evan letting him blow him, though as if the universe was out to get him, Evan had pulled away from Barty in the front hallway of his apartment, and with a greenish tint to his cheeks muttered,” Oh fuck,” And ran off to the bathroom, Barty heard him throwing up a few seconds later.
He took that as a hint, dizzy and beside himself, Barty took refuge on his balcony, trying to smoke away his hardon, and instead finding himself incapable of moving, his joint the last thing grounding him, though he smoked like it was.
Evan found him, still sloshed and something a little shy when he came out onto the balcony, Barty now fully gone, could offer no more than a helpless wave.
Evan laughed, his cheeks pink, and straddled Barty in his chair, digging into Barty’s jeans till he found his pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out, throwing the pack uncaringly onto their table, and Barty managed enough to pull out his lighter, holding it as still as he could while Evan brought the tip of the cigarette to it.
Evan pulled away and took a long drag, Barty flicked away his joint and found his hands on Evan's ass. Barty wanted to pull him back to his bed, and wake Regulus and fuck the both of them till he was nothing more than what he left inside them.
