bitter - @rosekillermicrofic - words: 406 - implied NSFW under the cut
“Barty?” Evan said, his voice quiet and his body still.
He lay next to Barty’s soft skin, Evan’s naked body against Barty’s. Their dorm room was stiller than it had ever been, and Barty had been the one to make it this way. His skin crawled, imagining all of the ways Evan was going to hate him now.
His voice shot through the room, any sort of joking tone gone, “Get the fuck out.”
Evan stared at him, his deep eyes bearing into Barty’s soul. There was no real way to escape, no hiding under the covers or running away. They were bare and open and real right now.
“Okay,” Evan said, his body moving away. He pulled away from Barty’s naked body, his warmth pulling off the blankets and sheets. Evan’s thin body was gone from Barty’s space and there was a part of Barty that felt like a puzzle piece had been yanked from his center. “You want me to get the fuck out, I’ll get the fuck out.”
“Evan.”
“No,” Evan’s voice was caustic and bitter, unable to have that soft tone he had while fucking Barty into the mattress. “No, you can’t just yank me into your bed, call me baby, post-orgasm, and then kick me out. I can’t do that, Barty. I can’t.”
Barty’s skin crackled in a way he had never felt before in his life. “Evan, I–”
“Yeah, I know you can’t have real emotions,” Evan said, pulling his pants on, trousers coming quickly after. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”
His skin felt like fire, like a burning ember, and a million bees were stinging him all at once. Barty couldn’t let Evan just walk away. It would sting worse. It would feel like an ending.
“Baby.” Barty’s voice was louder than he’d intended it to be, but Evan paused, turning to look at him. “Baby. Come here.”
Evan sat on the edge of the bed, bare chest and trousers buttoned. “Barty.”
His voice quivered slightly, trying to push out the words that someone would say. The ones for apologies and for asking for the things you really want. All of the words that Barty was taught didn’t mean anything, especially if it’s coming from him. He tried to force them out. “Baby–”
A hand came to his face, grabbing his chin slightly, callused fingers against his cheeks. “I know, Barty. You don’t have to say it. I know.”