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Whats a food dish you'd wanna share with your ikemen fave? Do you think he'd enjoy it? Politely eat it with no judgment, but it's not for him? Decline it?
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15. I carried you to the car and drove you home but you weren't making any sense.
Trigger warnings - mentions of injuries, blood, unconsciousness, threatening, physical violence, deliberately causing injury - possible minor graphic violence, but this will depend on the person! Warning just in case!
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Evan is driving fast. Too fast.
He knows this, but he doesn't care. All he knows is that he has to get to Barty. He doesn’t know where he is, but he needs to get to him. He needs to.
Taking another corner, the tires spin across the floor, the back end of the car hitting the streetlight before he takes off down the side road. He doesn’t stop to check if it falls. He doesn’t have time to stop. The sky is darkening around him, casting a soft glow that will soon make it impossible for him to spot Barty in the distance.
Leaning forward, he grips the steering wheel tight, looking left and right before taking another side road. His mind is reeling from the message, the mumbled voicemail that made next to no sense. He tried ringing back instantly, but Barty didn’t answer. He never answers.
There are a lot of things he loves about Barty, but his inability to pick up the phone is at the top of the list for the things he hates. He drives towards their place, the place they always go when they want to be alone. He doesn’t know if Barty will be there, but he has to try; he has to find him.
Looking in shop windows as he passes, he spots Mulciber and Avery, laughing as they toss a baseball bat between them. Evan feels his stomach sink. He knows what Barty is like for winding them up, for luring them away from the main street before he takes off up the side of the building, jumping effortlessly from roof to roof. That is something else Evan hates about Barty, his lack of risk assessment.
He pulls into the carpark of the abandoned warehouse and stops the car, swinging the door open before he has even bothered to cut the engine. He takes off running through the door, almost tripping over fallen pieces of rubble as he calls out for Barty. When he gets no response, he runs back outside, looping around the building until he comes to the large tree in the field behind. He spots Barty instantly, lying on the floor in the distance.
“Barty!” He yells, running forward.
Barty doesn’t answer him, he doesn’t move. His face is beaten and bruised, blood on his lip and a gash across his cheek. He reaches forward and gently feels along his neck, thankful for the medical training he went through. When he finds nothing out of place, he scoops Barty into his arms and heads towards the car.
“Ev,” Barty mumbles against him, trying to blink his eyes open.
“I’ve got you,” Evan reassures him gently, carefully lowering him into the back seat. “You’re safe now,” he whispers.
Barty lets out a gasp as he rolls onto his side. “I – I... Evan,” he smiles, letting out a soft laugh.
“Hang tight, I'm taking you home.”
“You’re home,” Barty whispers.
“Yes, you can come to mine,”
Barty lets out a small huff from the back as Evan fastens his seat belt. “You don't get it,” he cries, grabbing at Evan’s arm. “Home is... you,” he continues, pulling at his jumper.
“Piss off, Barty. I’m trying to drive.” Evan sighs, pulling his arm back.
He turns another corner, once again passing Mulciber and Avery as they cross the road to the skate park. He grits his teeth and drives faster, knowing he has to get Barty back as quickly as he can.
“My Evan,” Barty sighs from the back.
“Yes Barty, I'm your Evan.” He replies absentmindedly.
It isn't a lie, though, not really. Sure, he isn't technically with Barty, but he wishes he was, and that counts for something. Right? Once upon a time, he was sure they would get there, but it never happened. They are twenty-five now, and he has been silently pining after his best friend since he was thirteen years old.
He pulls onto the pavement outside and climbs out, slamming the door shut behind him. Barty is still mumbling as he tries to ease him out of the back seat, bringing his arm around his shoulder.
“Hey baby, I think i wanna marry you,” Barty sings softly, making Evan laugh as they make their way up the steps. “I'll go get the ring,” he continues, leaning into Evan’s side.
“What are you on about, mate.” Evan huffs.
“So what ya wanna do,” Barty sings instead of answering, pressing his lips to Evan’s neck.
Evan freezes for a second as he fumbles for his keys. He has to remember that Barty likely has a concussion. He doesn’t know what he is saying. When he finally leans backwards, satisfied smirk on his face, Evan leads him inside. He drags him into the bedroom and lowers him to the bed before pulling out his first aid box.
Kneeling down between Barty’s legs, he douses the cotton wool in antiseptic. Barty flinches when he presses it against his lip, letting out a gasp of pain. It is only then that Evan smells the alcohol.
“You've been drinking?” He whispers.
Barty smiles. “I think I wanna marry you,” he sings again, closing his eyes and dropping his forehead to Evan’s. “What do you say, baby? Marry me,”
Evan grits his teeth and pulls away. “I think you are drunk, and you have a concussion.” He mumbles, gesturing to the blood on the side of his head.
“I still want to marry you,” Barty slurs, slowly leaning to the side. “I love you, Ev. Always have,” his voice comes out as a breath of air as his head meets the pillow.
Evan closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. Barty doesn’t often drink, but when he does, he always says things like this. He never mentions anything when he is sober, but Evan is left reeling from his words, wishing they were true.
He takes his time to clean and dress Barty’s injuries, leaving a glass of water on the bedside table and covering him with a blanket. He doesn't want to leave him, not when he is hurt, but he has to. Softly closing the bedroom door behind him, he heads back to his car, grabbing his bolt cutters, cable ties, and a baseball bat on the way out.
The drive is fast, adrenaline taking over. He finds them easily, sitting at the top of the skate ramp, gulping down cheap cider from the shop, straight from the bottle. He approaches from behind with a smile on his face, baseball bat firm in his hands. Avery doesn't have time to turn before the bat collides with his head, knocking him unconscious from the sheer force.
Mulciber is on his feet in an instant, heading straight for him. Evan smirks and swings the bat again, clipping his arm as he barrels into him. They both go crashing to the floor, hands grabbing fistfuls of hair as they roll over. Mulciber is screaming demands, but Evan can’t hear him over the ringing in his ears.
He jolts forward quickly, bringing his head to Mulciber's with a crack. He scrambles to his feet whilst he is distracted, swinging the bat at the back of his legs as soon as he has mirrored his movement. His knees hit the floor with a sickening thump as he lets out a shriek of pain.
“Perhaps this will teach you to stay the fuck away from Barty,” he mumbles, stepping forward and gripping his wrists in one hand.
After checking their surroundings, ensuring no one is in sight, he drags a kicking Mulciber over to the railings, pulling out the cable ties. Securing his hands is easy despite him thrashing around.
“You will pay for this!” He spits jolting from side to side as he desperately tries to sit up.
Evan laughs and pulls his body further downwards, his hands suspended above his head. He pulls out the bolt cutters and carefully slips it over his thumb, tightening it just enough.
“I’ll pay for this, you say?” He hums thoughtfully, watching as Mulciber’s eyes widen. “Funny because I am pretty sure this is you, paying for what you did to Barty.”
“I didn’t do anything to him!”
Evan raises an eyebrow and tightens the grip, watching as blood trickles down his arm. He lets out a bloodcurdling scream, kicking his feet out in front of him.
“Do you want to try that again?”
Mulciber doesn’t answer, so Evan repeats the motion, drawing more blood. “Fuck!” he screams squeezing his eyes closed.
“Tell me you will never go near him again,” he says clearly, pulling his hair until his eyes are forced open.
Mulciber tries to nod, but he can’t move in Evan’s grip. “I will stay away,” he says through gritted teeth.
Evan laughs and straightens up, walking around with the bolt cutters by his side. “That’s convincing, but not convincing enough.” He mutters, smirking as he steps closer.
-
When Evan gets home, the sun has almost risen in the sky. Barty is still sleeping, so he flicks the kettle on and climbs into the shower. He smiles to himself as he watches the blood disappear down the drain, scrubbing his skin clean.
Once dressed, he pours them both a cup of tea and carries them into the bedroom, settling down next to Barty as he waits for him to stir. He isn’t a violent person, not really. But when it comes to Barty? He will do anything.
“Evan,” Barty mumbles when he slowly begins to blink his eyes open.
Evan smiles. “I’m right here,” he whispers, watching Barty struggle to sit up.
“What am I doing here?”
“You called me last night, needed somewhere to crash.”
Barty frowns. “You came to get me?” He whispers, shaking his head. “Oh god, what did I say?”
“Well, I carried you to the car and drove you home but you weren't making any sense.” He admits with a smile.
He knows he could tell Barty what he said, but he wants to wait. He wants to wait until Barty knows himself what he is saying. Until he will remember the words, the questions, the promises. He wants to wait until Barty gives him the opportunity to close the space between them, finally bringing their lips together.
“Fuck, I don’t remember anything after Mulciber fucking cornered me,” he mumbles, accepting his mug with a smile.
“You don’t have to worry about him anymore, either.”
Barty looks up with a frown. “What do you mean?”
“I asked him nicely to stay away,” he shrugs, hiding his smile in his tea.
Barty raises an eyebrow but doesn't question it as he drops his head to Evan’s shoulder. If this is all he gets for now, then he will take it. After all, he would do anything for Barty Crouch, whether they are together or not.
