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Evan knows who it is before he opens the door. Only one person would come knocking at the door if his small London flat at bloody 1:30 in the morning instead of using the floor network or even just apparating.
Because Evan knows who this is, he’s tempted to just not answer. Take a sleeping draught, go back to bed and wake up with at least 5 hours of sleep. He’s got coffee with Pandora in the morning, and she said Dorcas may even join them this time. Ever since Reggie moved away the friend group hasn’t seen much of each other. That is except for Evan and the person on the other side of the door.
But, because he knows who’s knocking on his door, he doesn’t do that. Evan turns the knob to see Barty Crouch Jr.
Barty looks rough. He has dark bags under his eyes, and he smells strongly of whiskey and cheap wine. His clothes are in a dissaray, his shirt loose around his torso, like buttons are just a suggestion. His trousers are streaked with what Evan hopes is not vomit. It’s probably vomit.
“Heyyy Evs,” Barty’s words slur together as they leave his mouth. He’s drunk. Evan knew this already, of course, but this is further confirmed as Barty sways forward before catching himself in the dorm frame.
Evan sighs and puts his hands on his hips. “Do you know what time is it?” He asks, voice half dejected and half concerned. Evan hates the worry that encompasses his being when he’s around Barty. It shouldn’t be like this. He hasn’t felt like that with any girlfriend in the past, hadn’t felt the need to pick her up from work, or make her laugh just because he likes the sound.
Barty snaps Evan out of his thoughts, saying, “Alright mum I’ll be more careful to check the time ‘fore I show up drunk on my best friend’s doorstep.”
Evan sighs again. He reaches an arm around Barty’s back to support his weight, a force of habit at this point. They stagger through the flat to Evan’s bathroom where he sets Barty on the toilet seat.
Barty looks up at him with those big, soft, hazel eyes. Evan used to hate them back at Hogwarts. He could never be quite sure whether they were brown or green or grey or any combination of colours. Now they just looked pitiful. And not cute. Why would Barty’s eyes be cute?
“What happened this time? Another devastatingly beautiful girl fall in love with you?” Evan asked, his voice showing traces of annoyance.
Barty takes this with a grain of salt, Evan always sounds annoyed. “Only a bit of love.” Barty grins up at him, like a five year old showing off a price of macaroni art. “She really was quite nice.” Barty says, a bit more solemnly.
Sometimes Evan wondered if maybe Barty just liked the thought of being loved by someone, rather than actually loving them back. If maybe Barty thought of love the same way Evan did. Unacheivable, and unrealistic. Then Evan looked into those hazel eyes again, that looked green in the sunlight but were always grey in the winter. Evan wondered if Barty knew half as much about Evan as Evan did about him. If he cared to.
”Rosie?” Barty asked. Evan realized he might’ve been talking just then. Evan dragged his gaze away from Barty’s eyes.
“Sorry, did you say something?”
”I was just talking about the girl. That I was with. I broke up with her. She was very nice though.”
It seems Barty’s in a more melancholy mood tonight. Alcohol does that to him sometimes. Some nights he’ll show up at Evan’s gassed out of his mind, singing ABBA and waking up the neighbors. Other nights, like this one, he’s quieter. These nights usually end with Barty passed out in Evan’s arms, after having cried his fucking guts out.
Then they would wake up in the morning, and Evan’s heart would clench as Barty pulled away, and pretend nothing had happened the night before.
“She had blonde hair. I might’ve loved her a bit I guess. She loved me.”
”How long were you together?” Evan asked. Depending on the craziness of the girl, it could’ve been anywhere from a day to a year. Evan hoped it wasn’t a year. Barty hadn’t even mentioned this blonde girl last time he was over though, so you never know.
”Only ‘bout a week.” Barty said, the he smirked up at Evan. “Why? You jealous?”
Jealous of what? That girl? Of course not. Evan wasn’t in love with Barty Crouch Jr. That would be ridiculous. And probably damaging to his health. Evan had never truly been in love with anyone. He loved his friends, sure, and Pandora and even his parents before the whole “trying to arrange a marriage and then disowning him when it didn’t work out” thing. But in love? Evan wasn’t sure he knew what that was like.
Evan then remembered that Barty was probably expecting a response to his joking comment. “I’m not jealous of anyone.” Evan muttered. Barty looked ready to jab at him again, try to rile him up, but Evan could see a wave of nausea hit him. Barty stood up and turned around. Evan opened the toilet seat lid just in time to catch Barty projectile vomiting.
If Evan were to find worthwhile love, he’d probably want something like this. Someone to hold his hair back and rub his back and whisper comforting words in his ear while he was puking up the entire country of Ireland. He’d always do this for Barty. No matter what. Even if he was as mad at Barty, or didn’t feel well himself, even if Barty and he hadn’t talked to each other in years, decades, Evan would always hold his hair back and make sure he fell asleep safe. Was that a form of love? Maybe it could’ve been. But that line of thinking was dangerous. Evan didn’t love anyone, and Barty couldn’t let himself love anyone.
Barty pulled back from the toilet bowl, wiping his mouth. Evan let go of his hair and got up to get Barty a cloth to wipe himself off with. Barty accepted it gratefully, and leaned forward to rest his head on the edge of the toilet bowl. Evan personally thought it was gross, but to each his own.
After letting him rest for a bit, Evan aid “Alright up you get.” He reached an arm around Barty’s waist and hauled him up to his feet. They staggered together into the bedroom, and Evan set him on the bed before getting him a fresh set of clothes. Loose pants and an old Doors t-shirt.
Eavn set the clothes next to Barty and said, “I’m gonna get you some water and a sobering potion if you wanna get dressed.”
Barty nodded at him, still a bit out of it. Evan turned to leave, and Barty said, “Hey Ev?”
”Yeah?”
“Thanks. M’sorry.”
”It’s alright.” And it was. Barty showing up drunk was just a fact of life at this point. Evan would rather he be here than anywhere else. Maybe that was true for more than one situation, but Rvan didn’t especially want to think about that right now.
He gathered the water and sobering potion, then a vial of dreamless sleep just in case this night ended how Evan thought it might.
Evan rapped gently on the door until Barty called out, “Come in!”
Evan opened the door, carefully balancing the potions in his arms. Barty was wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the bed. Evan supposed it must’ve been cold in the flat. It was March, so not warm but not freezing either. Just muddy and horrid. Evan hated spring. Barty looked comfortable though, still a little green around the gills, and the bags under his eyes were still prominent, but less like he just got kicked out of the nearest shitty dive bar.
Evan handed over the potions and water and Barty took them without complaint. Evan made him wait to take the vial dreamless sleep, wanting to ask him more about tonight.
”So you broke up with that girl? What’d you do after, go and get pissed off your ass?”
”I went out to get reasonably drunk, and it just, escalated.”
Evan rolled his eyes, then flopped down on the bed next to Barty, stretching an arm around him. He was in the mood to be close to Barty tonight, and no, he was not going to read into that fact.
Barty scooched a bit closer, nudging his face into the crook of Evan’s neck. “Rosie?” Barty asked, quietly.
”Yeah Bee?”
“D’you think I’m selfish?”
”No ‘course not.”
Barty hummed quietly then asked, “D’you think I'm annoying?”
”Only endearingly so.” Barty scoffed under his breath. “I don’t hang out with people who are selfish and annoying, Bee, and neither does Reg.” Evan said, trying to make Barty feel better about whatever it was he was in his head about this time.
Barty seemed content with this and fell back into silence. He was not often this quiet, but Evan was tired of waiting for Barty to just say the thing he was so obviously worried about.
”Why’d you break up with that girl Barty?” Evan asked, flatly.
”Didn’t love ‘er like I should’ve. It’s hard to break it off after waiting for a bit, ya know?”
Evan nodded, waiting for something other than the breakup. Surely Barty wasn’t that hung up about this girl, right?
“You sure it’s just that girl?” Evan asked. Welp might as well be blunt about it.
”Wot's that supposed to mean?”
”Really, Bee?” Evan was so tired of dancing around where this conversation was going to go. It had been a long day and he just wanted to comfort his best friend.
”Whenever you come to me, all drunk and late at night, it’s ‘cause something big happened and you didn’t tell anyone about it because you think you can just handle it in your own by jumping from person to person at a bar or some shite to entertain yourself.”
Maybe Evan was more upset about this than he thought. “I don’t do that!” Barty protested.
”Yws, you do. What about when your mum died, or you came out as AC/DC, or your dad disowned you, or your dad got cancer, or Reg moved to France with bloody James Potter, or-“
”Okay okay! So, I do do that. So what? That doesn’t mean I only come here when I have bad news.”
”Well do you have bad news?” Evan pried.
Barty put his head in his hands having already leaned away from Evan. “I went to the healer’s recently.” Evan had known of this, vaguely. He nodded, indicating Barty continue.
”Well she had me take these test thingys and…”
“And?” Evan was seriously concerned now. Was Barty okay? Unnervingly quiet and not finishing sentences was not normal Barty behavior.
”I have ADHD and depression.” Barty blurted out. Oh. Evan was not expecting that. Well just about anyone could tell about the ADHD thing. Kid was bouncing off the walls. But depression was definitely concerning. Nevertheless, Barty was still Evan’s… Shit. Evan wanted to be more than friends with Barty Crouch Jr. Isn’t that a statement for the ages.
Evan Rosier came to the slow realization that he was most definitely, irrevocably, in love with Bartemius Crouch Jr. While he was having this realization, however, Barty was falling apart.
Barty sniffled, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his tshirt, Evan’s tshirt. Wait the fact that Evan liked Barty in his tshirts was unrelated. Barty was crying. What?!
”No no no no no, no crying.” Evan said, bundling Barty closer to his chest. Barty shoved his face in the crook of Evan’s neck again.
”M’sorry” Barty mumbled.
”No apologies either, Bee, please.” Evan pleaded, trying to sort through the crazy mess of thoughts in his head. He’s in love with Barty. Barty is crying. This is not good. This is kinda good. Not the crying. That’s bad. Very bad.
Evan kissed the top of Barty’s head, and normally he would’ve freaked out about that, but not right now. Right now Evan was going to focus on comforting Barty, platonic best friend or maybe something more. Strong, resilient, crazy, Barty.
Evan whispered platitudes in Barty’s ear, and rubbed his back as the other boy cried in his arms. Evan told him how brave he was, how smart and handsome and perfect.
Eventually Barty stopped crying and Evan tilted his chin up to meet Evan’s eyes. They looked at each other for a bit.
Barty was still infuriatingly handsome, tanned skin and big hazel eyes, both of which complimented Evan’s darker skin and blue eyes. The bags under Barty’s eyes, and the red puffiness of having just cried didn’t deter from his beauty. Salazar, Barty was gorgeous.
”Hi.” Barty said, quiet and seemingly awed, voice still a bit hoarse from the sobbing. Awed By what, Evan could only wonder. What Evan was wondering in that moment, however, was what had possessed him to lean closer, bring Barty’s face closer to his, and then touch their lips together ever so gently.
Barty’s lips were warm, and Evan was so, so gentle and slow, so Barty could push him away if he wanted to. But Barty didn’t, and the kiss deepened. More aggressive, but no less sweet, lips firmly locked onto each other.
They kissed like that for a bit until Barty deepened the kiss and Evan nearly spontaneously combusted. Barty opened his mouth, and used his tongue to open Evan’s. Then the kiss was more and it was everything. Barty, thankfully, didn’t not taste like puke. He tasted sweeter, and Evan couldn’t even describe how addicting kissing Barty was. Barty’s hands entwined in Evan’s hair, and Evan’s hands found Barty’s waist.
The two kissed and kissed until they couldn’t breathe, and then they kissed a bit more, just because neither wanted it to end. When it did end, thought, and Evan pulled back to look at Barty, Barty looked, well like he’d been thoroughly sniffed, but still content. Not uncomfortable or regretful. Just Barty. Looking at him with those big hazel eyes, pleased, and maybe just a little in love.
“Hi.” Evan breathed, and then Barty kissed him again. They kissed for a quite a while, and it turned out that Barty did not need the vial of dreamless sleep, and was content to just pass out in Evan’s arms after a long snog session.
The next day, if Evan happened to bring Barty with him to coffee with Pandora, and Pandora happened to mention a rose quartz aura growing around the both of them, well that wasn’t really your business, was it?