Status Updates From I'm Not Gonna Teach Him How...

THEY KISSED, THEY KISSED, THEY KISSED!!!!!!!

If they dont kiss soon I’ll riot

Im so ready

It reads: I love you Evs  
When he turns to face Barty, he’s already looking at him, all warm intensity in his eyes.  
“When did you write this?” Evan asks, voice quiet, just for them.  
Barty twists his mouth a little, half-smiling, but he doesn’t look away. “The morning before you taught me to dance,” he murmurs. “I thought it earlier than then, but that’s when I wrote it.”

before bEFORE

“I promise you the first bite from my table,” she speaks, eyes all for him.  
“I promise you the first drink from my cup,” he returns in kind.  
“I promise you my words will be true.” 
“I promise you a house I’ll build here.” 
“I promise you my living and dying.” 
“I promise you your freedom and mine.”

But even his torpid thoughts aren’t so addled by Barty’s mouth on his that he misses the surprised, celebratory sounds that come from the friends around them.
When Barty breaks away, their noses still bumping together, Evan can see Pandora beaming wildly in the corner of his vision. Dorcas is rolling her eyes good-naturedly, amused.
“Fucking finally,” Regulus grinds out, but he has on one of his secret little smiles

Barty brings up the hand that had been on Evan’s and uses it to cup his jaw. His thumb finds the same place it always does, that tiny freckle—as if this is their routine. Evan loves the thought. There’s a moment of unsurity (they aren’t alone, not everyone knows) but it melts away when Barty leans down and presses his lips to Evan’s under the blazing sun.

Evan breathes out hard. “Would it be enough with someone else? With the others?” he forces himself to ask.
“No,” Barty shakes his head, hair moving against the pillow. “But they aren’t you.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asks. “Are you okay with me kissing you?”
Evan breathes out. It feels like so little. “Yes, but–”
“Will you flirt with me?”
“Yes, but–”
“Can I touch you, in a way that doesn’t lead to sex? Can I sleep in your bed?”
“ Yes , but–”
Barty looks at him with a gleam in his beautiful eyes. “Then why the fuck would I care. That’s enough, Evan. That’s everything.”

“I figured,” is all Barty says, and Evan feels his stomach flood with static. He tries to shift away, suddenly feeling too exposed, too known , dread a yawning pit within him. But Barty keeps ahold of him and refuses to drop his eyes.
“Fucking hell, Evan, how little do you think I pay attention to you?

“I went home with Val because you pushed me away. I wanted to feel something. I wanted to feel wanted. That’s it.” He turns his eyes back to Evan’s. “I never gave a shit about her. Or any of them, really.”
There’s something bleak in Barty’s expression. Like sex is just a transaction he’s been using to access affection, and nothing more. It makes Evan’s heart burn and he tightens his hold on Barty’s hand.

Barty stares at him for a moment, before a smile breaks over his face more blinding than the sun.
“You love me?”
Evan huffs a breath and glances away, feeling a flush crawl into his cheeks and his chest, below the bandage keeping his broken ribs in place. “Alright, don't be a wanker about it.”

“When you and Reg were together. At Hogwarts. I was jealous too.”
Barty leans towards him like it's an instinct. “But that was years ago.” Something in his voice shifts warmly, almost teasing, but he looks near-startled. “You’ve liked me for years?”
“I’ve loved you for years,” Evan

“I’d get on my knees for you,” Barty swears, and Evan feels the breath punch out of him.
Barty who despises the idea of being controlled. Barty who has never bowed or bent to a single person in his life. Evan feels something break free in his chest. He tightens the grip he has in Barty’s hair, not enough to hurt but enough to be heard.
“And I would never ask you to,” he answers quietly, with steel.

“Barty,” he says quietly. “You’re my best friend. This could just be a passing thing–”
The other boy shakes his head vehemently. “You’re my best friend, too. We’re in this together. And I know better than—it’s not small, Evan, what I feel for you.”

“And then–” Barty’s face twists a little. “I kissed you, and—you pushed me away. You didn’t talk to me for weeks , Evan, and then you said that me kissing you was ridiculous , so I figured you didn’t want me. But I couldn't stop feeling shit for you. And then at your house, when we were dancing—you flirted with me. Properly. And I tried to ask the others to make sure I wasn’t going mental, and Reg didnt tell me and-"

He wishes he didn’t feel like a child every time he asks for love, but his voice is a choked thing, and Barty’s face twists as he tucks his hand more securely against Evan’s jaw.
“Yeah, Evs, I’m bloody well sure.” Barty releases a long breath, settling further into him as he speaks. “I always thought you were good-looking, and I like you more than anyone else on the planet. Then I saw you and Reg all over eachother"

Slowly, like he’s not sure Evan will allow it, he raises his hand and places it on Evan’s jaw, one thumb pressing to the freckle there.
Making sure he keeps his eyes on Evan’s, and with every degree of intent he’s ever spared Evan’s way, Barty says, “That I like you.”

“I’d get on my knees for you,” Barty swears, and Evan feels the breath punch out of him. Barty who despises the idea of being controlled.
Barty who has never bowed or bent to a single person in his life. Evan feels something break free in his chest. He tightens the grip he has in Barty’s hair, not enough to hurt but enough to be heard.
“And I would never ask you to,” he answers quietly, with steel.

“Barty,” he says quietly. “You’re my best friend. This could just be a passing thing–”
The other boy shakes his head vehemently. “You’re my best friend, too. We’re in this together. And I know better than—it’s not small, Evan, what I feel for you.”