Archive of Our Own ^beta

Evan had expected the question, frankly had been wondering why it hadn't come sooner. See, Evan’s school had a rule that the oldest year group would take the after-school detentions, the teachers would choose the best students in the year, and although it might seem like a punishment, if you were asked, you had to say yes. And Evan was smart. Very smart, top in his class for half of his subjects, the others piquing no interest, so he resided to just get good grades, as opposed to his typical perfect.

“Your first one is tomorrow afternoon, room 201, arrive at 3:15. The list of students will be emailed to you, all you need to do is check them off, make sure they do their work, look after them . Is that all okay, Evan?” The teacher who had asked him was his physics teacher, a personal favourite of his. Evan agreed to it, he wasn't over the moon about the prospect of sitting in a classroom full of his schoolmates, most of whom he had never particularly been drawn to, but he agreed nonetheless. Good for his applications. 

So at 3:15, Evan walked into classroom 201. It was empty, students with detention expected to arrive at 3:20, giving Evan a five-minute head start. He let his bag drop beside the desk, sinking into the teacher's chair, which although uncomfortable, felt good; powerful. Logging onto the teacher's computer felt even better, Evan smirked as his student ID projected onto the screen as he typed in his password: pen9u!nz. The same password he had used since year 3. 

The email application automatically popped onto the screen, and the top email was from Ms Bodfrey, linked with a file. The double click of the old mouse echoed into the dim room, a short list opening up, only three names. Evan had to resist groaning, because it had felt like a waste of time as it was, but to only ‘look after’ three students, it felt even more stupid. 

Mark Johnson, the first name on the list. It didn't say what he did, and Evan found he didn't care either way. He had never heard of Mark, probably someone a couple of years below. The second name, Evan recognised. Christian Pullman. He had gone to school with him since Evan joined primary school. Christian was pretty well known, he was two years older than Evan, and also on his second resit of year 13. Christian wouldn't come. Evan didn't need to be a genius to work that out. So. instead he would have two students. They were better off buying a timed lock in the door, save Evan some time. 

The last name Evan also knew, Barty Crouch Jr. He was in Evan’s year and was known about as much as Christian. Evan knew him, had known him for a while. Barty and Evan rarely spoke, but then again Evan rarely spoke to anyone. Barty was cool, Evan thought, with his cool hair, and his cool piercings, and his cool tattoos. And he was attractive, Evan knew that. Evan would find himself looking at Barty across the room, and would think about every conversation they had for days after. Maybe Evan had Barty’s freckles burned to memory, and maybe Evan had a small thing for Barty.

Barty also seemed to like Evan. Barty had friends, lots of them, unlike Evan, who stuck gladly to himself. Barty would hang out with half the year, he had friends everywhere, and everyone liked him. Evan didn't really like him though, he thought that he was cool, thought that if he didn't have such strict parents maybe he would look a bit more like Barty and a bit less like Ms Bodfrey, but Evan didn't like Barty. 

Barty was loud, had been loud since the first day of school, seven years before. He was funny, sure, but he wasn't funny in a way that would make Evan laugh, more funny in a way that would Evan lick his teeth, and tuck his chin into his chest to hide his smile, because Barty didn't need the ego boost. Barty seemed to find Evan a lot, like a moth to a flame. During his lunches, Evan would be outside, sitting on the only bench in the school that was shaded by a tree and where the wood was so worn from age that it would threaten to give way every time he sat on it. Barty knew this, and would abuse that fact. Evan resented it, because Barty didn't need to find him, he had options, he could go talk with half the year, half of the whole school in fact, but instead he would insist on finding Evan, sitting in front of him and talking at him, whilst Evan made an active effort to not react to his jokes, and read his book.

And Barty was in Evan’s detention, which was great, because it meant Evan would likely get nothing done. 3:20, people expected to arrive then, and Evan leaned back into the chair, eyes glaring at the empty doorway. 

The noise of the second hand ticking away was grating, coming out way too loud from the lack of other noise. 3:25. Nobody was there. Evan decided to work, he didn't really need the students to come, it didn't affect him. He would work regardless, and he wasn't the one who would be punished for their absence, the only problem was when to leave. Usually, the students would stay for 40 minutes, leaving at 4:00, but if they weren't there, Evan could theoretically leave whenever he wanted. But instead, he continued writing his paper.

Evan wasn't sure how much time had gone by, no Mark, no Christian, and no Barty. The classroom was silent, so silent that Evan heard it long before he saw it, heavy footsteps accompanied by heavier groans. He didn't look up, however, it could have been anyone, and his work was more interesting than anyone. 

“Evan?” He looked up. The voice was Barty, he didn't need to look to know it, but Evan was a sucker for aesthetics, and maybe he liked the way Barty looked, sue him . 

“You're late.” Evan kept his voice a controlled amount of monotonous. Feigning  an uninterested energy, he stared Barty down as he walked across the room. Barty smiled at the words, a big toothy smile, and Evan wanted instantly to mirror it but held off. 

“Why are you here? You my patrol officer?” Barty had approached the desk and stood over Evan, hands on the desk to lean down. 

“Just sit down, Barty.” Evan resumed his work, but Barty clearly wasn't done, “Aye-Aye Captain!” He said as he dragged a chair obnoxiously across the floor, the metal legs scraping violently on the linoleum and hurting Evan’s ears. The chair was placed by Evan’s the corner of his desk, as though it was a parent-teacher conference. Evan didn't stop working, even as he saw Barty’s crusty shoes cross on the desk beside the page, his peripheral catching Barty leaning back with cross arms, still staring at Evan. 

“Your own desk.” The words were weak, with no authority whatsoever, and Barty didn't plan on following them, as he leaned further back, fake yawning to further annoy Evan. 

“You know, I thought that Mr Cole wanted me to stop getting detentions,” Barty drawled, removing his legs to shift closer, his familiar woody aftershave hitting Evan’s nose, “But it feels like they are incentivising me. I mean a one-on-one hangout session with the elusive Rosier, I’m gonna have to start getting in more trouble!” And Evan had to snort, because the idea that Barty could somehow get in more trouble was ridiculous.

“Don't do that, Barty, and if you aren't going to sit at your own desk, at least do some work.” Evan gifted Barty with one look, which pulled an easy smile from him, before looking into his work again. 

Barty didn't say anything, which wasn't unusual, sometimes when Evan was working at the bench and Barty would bother him there were minutes where they lapsed into silence, Evan working and Barty sitting and watching. It was kind of enjoyable, Evan thought, Barty made him feel kind of safe. Evan loved being alone, not because he hated other people, but because it was easy, there were no surprises, but when Barty was with him, it was nice. 

“You have such fancy handwriting.” The silence was broken, Barty’s scuffed fingernails batting at the page as he dragged it out from under Evan and meticulously eyed the lettering, as Evan huffed in frustration. Evan started intently, not even bothering to try and take the page back, being smart enough to know Barty was stronger, and instead let his eyes follow Barty’s long finger, where the soft pads traced over Evan’s pen. It felt weirdly intimate, like Barty was touching him , which was crazy, but Evan could nearly feel it. 

Barty was still tracing the page, and Evan was tired of it, so he leaned forward slightly on the chair to bat at the page and get it back, but Barty was quicker, moving it back before Evan could even grace the page, and moving to hold the page above his head, a taunting challenge. 

Evan went to stand and watched as the paper slipped between his grasp once again when Barty stood too. “Nope.” Barty grinned, and Evan rolled his eyes because Barty was such a child. The two were the same height, Evan could reach the page if he stood closer, but the way Barty was looking at him felt like he was pinned in place. 

“Fuck off, give it to me.” Evan shook his head as he spoke, stepping forward into Barty’s space to try and gain vantage, but Barty held the paper impossibly higher. “Detention monitor can swear now? Wow!” Barty was cackling then, sarcastic tone lacing his voice, and temptingly waving the page when Evan went tip-toes to try and reach. 

Barty’s blazer was discarded somewhere, Evan didn't know, wasn't even sure the boy owned one with how little he was seen in one. That left Barty in a white button-up, the sleeves rolled and the top button was lazily undone, scruffily untucked. Evan tried not to stare at how the shirt clung to his arms, or how his trousers hugged his thighs. This close Evan could notice a lot about the way Barty looked. The way his green eyes were wide as he stared at Evan, with flecks of brown. The faded colour in his hair. How the badly lit room somehow shone through the shirt, and how it seemed concerningly thin. 

“Come get it.” Barty was slowly moving back, very slowly, slower than Evan was moving towards him which created an equilibrium where their bodies were growing closer. Evan wasn't going to get the page, somehow Barty had it out of his reach, and Evan didn't really care too much about it, he would have frankly enjoyed redoing his notes, but Barty was licking his lips ripe with competition, and Evan didn't care about his notes, but he wanted to win. 

The benefit of standing on his toes wasn't enough, he needed more, so Evan let his hand lift, let it fall onto Barty’s shoulder, clasp around the muscle, feel the heat radiating from beneath the fabric, ignore the way Barty stopped retreating, and use him as a leg up to jump and grab it. 

Evan didn't look at Barty as he turned back around, sat down with the page, and picked up his pen to resume unaffected. Barty was still standing, Evan tried not to pay attention to him swinging from side to side. Evan didn't look over as he moved over to the whiteboard and leaned against it, Evan didn't even blink when Barty started whining at him. 

“Evan.” He dragged the name out, “Rosier.” Barty groaned, to no reply. Silence again, which in any other circumstance Evan would gladly take, but Barty was pacing, hands in pockets, and his lip permanently bitten between his teeth. “What?” Evan decided to indulge, it was nearly 4:00, he didn't have much to do, and Barty seemed to need some kind of mental stimulation. 

The slight acknowledgement alone had Barty perking up, “God, I can't believe they make you do this on a Friday, I mean don't you want to be out?” Barty chimed, returning to his seat beside Evan, dragging the chair even closer to be fully on Evan’s side of the desk. Evan wasn't going to be able to do anything with Barty right there, he decided to just pack away, and turn fully to face Barty. “Where would I be out?” Evan scoffed, twisting in his chair to be face-to-face with the latter. 

“You don't want to go out?” And Barty sounded so earnest, it almost sounded like he was asking Evan to go out then and there. Evan didn't reply though, Barty was fishing around in his pocket, and he whipped out a small flask, which Evan had no idea how he fit it in his trousers, or more importantly why , but he chose not to ask. 

“Wanna know a secret?” Barty grabbed the small bottle, opened it and swigged it down before replying to his own question, “I knew you were going to be here, I wasn't even going to come to detention, I have a party right now, but I chose to come here.” Barty passed the small bottle to Evan, the remains of whatever contents swishing about around the walls of it. Contrary to popular belief, Evan drank, and he smoked occasionally. People assumed because he didn't go to parties he never drank, but he and his sister would go to the park and drink wine, or when his out-of-school friends would come to town they would hang out and smoke. So Evan downed it, didn't flinch, and placed it on the table. 

Another popular belief was that Evan was a goody two shoes. That he would snitch on bad behaviour, or suck up to teachers, but that wasn't the case; Evan broke rules all the time, he just didn't get caught, and the teachers just didn't suspect him. “You can go to your party, I already signed your attendance, don't worry.” Evan dragged his feet onto the chair, resting his chin on his knees as he eyed Barty. 

“No, that's not…” Barty looked down, in a low voice, “Are you not going to ask how I knew?” Barty asked, looking back up to meet Evan’s dark eyes. Evan wasn't going to ask, it was mildly suspicious, but it didn't bother him too much, seemed too much hassle to decipher. When Evan didn't ask, Barty answered. “You’re really cool, Evan. Like, my friends are all like me, and I don't really like me, so I come find you to get a break from myself, and you are always there, not caring, and I think you're cool.” Evan dropped his legs, spreading them across the small distance between their chairs. 

“You never ask why I come to find you, but I always do. I like to watch you do your work, like to watch how you stick out your tongue when you have a hard question, or how you clench your fist around nothing every couple minutes.” Barty sounded exasperated, as he got out of breath and broke eye contact every couple of moments before picking up again. “Like, when we were in year 9, and we did PE, me and you were partnered for tennis, and you probably don't remember, but you were so cool , I couldn't stop watching you, I lost every point because every time you lifted your arm to hit the ball like it was nothing, I didn't want to look away for even a second, even to return the ball.”

Evan did remember. He remembered a lot, remembered how Barty offered to fill up his bottle twice, despite it being full. He remembered how when Barty’s friends beckoned him over, Barty flipped them off, and instead walked with Evan, matching their steps. Of course Evan remembered, it wasn't every day that he and Barty got to be close like that. Secretly, Evan relished in the fact that Barty thought about it ok, that it wasn't just some blip in the space-time continuum that Evan imagined. 

“I asked Josh where you are at lunch a few years ago and gave him a fiver not to tell you I asked,” Evan leaned further back into his chair, fingers tapping rapidly against the armrest, thinking heavily. Josh was Evan’s friend, or the closest thing Evan had to a friend. Josh had moved away the previous year, but before that, he and Evan co-existed, not friends but regulars in each other's space. They never really spoke, didn't hang out much, and their friendship had loved to thrive better out of school than in, but it was good. Evan wasn't sure how to take what Barty was saying. 

“I knew you were doing this stupid detention thing because I asked Pandora why you weren't leaving.” Barty rushed out, and Evan was already confused, but that was what did it. “Pandora? What?” Evan quizzed, sounding as lost as he felt, and Barty sighed, and god what was in that bottle , because Evan’s head was spinning. 

“I saw Pandora walking home while I was driving back, and you usually walk together. I saw you weren't there and I asked her where you were. Made my friend stop the car jumped out and ran after her. Sorry ‘bout that.” And Barty seemed embarrassed, but Evan wasn't sure why because he wasn't sure what was happening, or how Barty knew Pandora, or how Barty knew anything.

Barty could see the confusion in his face, as he went on, “I ran back here and came to this detention, and I’m gonna miss the pregame, and I lost my lift, and I don't care ‘cause I would rather be here.” Evan felt the corners of his lip lift unconsciously at that. 

The room went silent, Barty was fidgeting a lot, and Evan had a weird feeling in his gut, but he wasn't sure what to say, so he looked at Barty with heavy eyes until Barty finally stopped staring at his clasped hands and cautiously met Evan’s eyes. 

“I think you're cool too,” Evan spoke instantly, not wanting to miss his moment, letting the words flow out before he registered them, “I always thought that, even back then.” Barty smiled again and Evan felt pushed to go on, “I don't understand much, like how you know about Pandora, or why you spoke to Josh. I can't even really see why you think I’m cool.” Barty opened his mouth but Evan was rearing with things to say, his head was all unleashing at a rapid pace and he had to let it out before it disappeared forever. 

“You said you don't like your friends because they are like you, Barty I think that's stupid. You're so cool, everyone likes you. And I don't think you're like your friends.” Evan blinked a long slow blink, making sure Barty was still looking when he continued, wanting him to hear everything he had to say, “You sit with me, and I don't like anyone to sit with me, but I like you to sit with me. None of your friends would ever sit with me. And I wouldn't let them.” 

Barty was fidgeting in his chair a lot, his fingers moving from his lap to his hair, twisting and turning. Evan went silent, and Barty almost immediately spoke, like he had been bottling it up until Evan finished, waiting to talk. 

“Evan, I like you. I want to say it now because I need you to understand it properly. I miss you more than I ever miss any of my friends. When you aren't in, I go to the table anyway, and I sit and look at your seat. I think you're cool, but mostly I just like, really fucking like you.” The words were spoken at a rapid pace, and Evan sat there watching Barty look as though he was about to combust. 

“You go to the table when I’m not there?” Was what Evan ended up saying, because he felt like a bucket of ice was being poured on him, and Barty liked him, and he thought Barty was maybe the most interesting person he had ever met, and he sat at his table. 

“Yeah, course I did.” Barty huffed, moving to stand up, resuming his pacing, which made Evan feel uneasy, he liked it when Barty was beside him. He liked it when Barty was beside him. Barty had come back to detention for him, he had skipped his party, Barty left his friends and he paid Josh and he liked him. 

Evan pushed off the chair, standing by Barty, who was swaying on his feet, eyes darting around the room. Evan brushed his hair out of his eyes, to look into Barty’s, and when Barty tried to bite his nails, Evan caught his hand. “I like you too, think that you're pretty cool, ” Evan smirked, noticing the way Barty lit up, stopped fidgeting in his hold, and instead looked over Evan’s face. 

“Cool.” Barty laughed. Evan nodded in agreement, it was cool. Barty didn't seem done, however, if the way he still swayed on his feet was any indicator. Their fingers intertwined fully, Barty’s long fingers trapping Evan’s own and using the leverage to pull him in even closer, so their faces were inches apart. Barty leaned forward to knock their skulls, and Evan smiled fondly at the action, awaiting the question he could see Barty reeling for, “Can I kiss you?” Barty was looking deeply into Evan’s eyes, nearly touching them, their noses brushing against each other. 

“Sure.” Evan hummed, and Barty didn't need to be told twice, as he slowly closed the already minimal space between them, until soft lips brushed against one another, and a dusting of breath washed over Evan’s skin. Barty’s other hand rested on the side of the desk where Evan rested, caging them in. The two of them moved slowly in tandem, and Evan would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about kissing Barty before, when Barty would look a little too closely at him during lunch, but he had never thought it would be like this. 

Evan had always posed Barty as fast, and reckless, like he was everywhere else, but it seemed that with Evan, Barty slowed down a bit, seemed that Barty allowed himself to be himself around Evan. 

Barty also pulled away first, which Evan was shocked at, but he seemed to be full of surprises. “Am I a bad influence if I make the detention monitor skip detention?” Barty teased, and Evan didn't have the heart to tell him detention was probably long done, that they were more likely to be locked in a closed school than to be skipping. 

“Let's go.” Evan numbed a shoulder against Barty’s, going to sign out, and in a sudden move of good grace, deciding to mark the other two no-shows as present. Maybe he was abusing his powers, but he was in a good mood, sue him.

As Barty took Evan under his arm, and the two walked out, Barty spoke again, “You know, that's actually about the fifth time I've confessed to you, you just didn't understand the other times and I gave up.” And Evan barked out a laugh, a real, loud laugh, because there was no way. 

“I'm serious! Guess I just needed to come to detention, who knew you were a masochist.” Barty joked, and Evan shoved him away from him, walking off to the exit, ignoring to combination of laughter and apologies from behind him. As the doors flew open, and Evan let the cold afternoon air hit him, he decided he was grateful Barty came to detention, and said as much, “I’m glad you came.”

“I’m glad too.” Barty had caught up to him, a slight pant in his breath, and he was smiling at Evan so brightly, and giving a brief kiss to his cheek, with a loud smack. Evan caught their reflection in the glass, and Barty was staring at Evan like he was perfect, and Evan was smiling, and Evan thought, maybe, they were both pretty cool .