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Barty was seething – quietly. Not a single word the professor was saying was registering even though he was watching her mouth move and he knew he should be paying attention so he could finish the assignment properly, but… But. Even from the corner of his eyes he could see them. He didn’t even know their name, didn’t care to know their name. It would only lead to curses and hexes and damnation thrown at the nothing currently sitting next to Evan. Evan who was giggling as he was bent over the cauldron in front of him to drop some ingredient in it. Barty knew he should be doing the same, his potions partner had given up calling his name and trying to engage him in whatever the fuck they were supposed to be brewing a couple of minutes ago. A blessing and a curse.
It meant Barty could focus on whatever the fuck was happening across the aisle from him.
It meant Barty had nothing to distract him from whatever the fuck was happening across the aisle from him.
Barty could feel his muscle locking up, his breathing slow down, his heart hammer faster, the adrenaline was coursing through his body like lightning, his blood sang in his veins. He turned his head minutely so he could watch them better.
Evan was writing something down, one of his white-blond dreads had escaped the hair tie and was falling onto his forehead, his dark skin illuminated in a soft glow from the potion and the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the large window of the classroom. The sight almost calmed the raging storm of emotion in Barty’s chest. Almost. But then the person next to Evan leaned in closer and Barty saw red. The Ravenclaw next to Evan should know better honestly. Should be fucking smarter than this. Because everyone knew, everyone knew, about Evan’s possessive little Ravenclaw guard dog Barty Crouch Jr. and his calculating, cold glare, the snarling curl of his lips, the violent clench of his fist when someone came too close. But no. They were ignoring it. Leaning in close, close enough to smell the scent of Evan’s lavender shampoo, the soft fresh smell of his clothing; close enough to see the way his dark lashes fanned across his high cheekbones, the kaleidoscope of browns that made up his eyes when the light hit them just right, see the way his teeth dug into his lower lip when he was thinking about something; close enough to hear him breathing.
Barty was going insane. He could feel his fingers clench and unclench on the table, he noticed the looks he was getting – some cautious, some scared, some fucking amused. Fucking Regulus was definitely laughing at him, but Barty couldn’t find it in himself to give a fuck, frankly. Regulus could laugh at him all he wanted after – after he’d dragged Evan away from those filthy, scummy, wrong Ravenclaw hands and-
“Alright, class. Let’s see those potions.” The Professor’s voice made Barty’s attention snap to her briefly, he looked over at the Slytherin next to him. He’d no clue what their name was. The professor had insisted that they pair up with people from the other house whom they didn’t know yet. Some weird idea to get them to interact and make friends? Barty wasn’t sure; Barty didn’t care. The Slytherin next to him gave him an unimpressed look, mouth curled into a smirk.
“Done obliterating Lee with your eyes alone?” He grinned and Barty wanted to punch him.
“Whatever.” He hissed; he knew better than to hit the guy in class. “Did you finish the potion?”
“No thanks to you.” The Slytherin laughed. “You gonna go for Lee after class? Or Rosier?” Barty tilted his head in confusion but the knowing smirk and frankly perverted glee in the guy’s eyes told him enough about the implications behind the words. Barty didn’t answer, simply let his whole face morph into a predatory grin; the Slytherin grinned back.
The moment the Professor told them class was over, Barty stood in front of Evan’s desk. The Ravenclaw – Lee – looked at him with a challenge blooming in their eyes. Barty felt his blood boil once more.
“Barty?” Evan’s voice pulled his attention like it always did but he knew the thunderous expression on his face didn’t change. He grunted an acknowledgment before he looked back at Lee, who was fucking smirking. Barty’s fingers twitched with the need to connect to Lee’s face.
“Sorry, Evan agreed to help me find a book.” Their voice was melodic with what Barty was sure was imminent victory and it made him seethe. He could feel the air in the classroom stand still. Those students who were still there didn’t move. Out of the corner of an eye he could see another Ravenclaw motion for Lee to back off and he wished they had, Barty really really wished Lee had listened to their friend because then Lee swung an arm around Evan’s shoulders. He touched him. Barty’s eyes narrowed in on the point of contact, he heard a sharp inhale of breath behind him, then his hand shot out across the table to grab Evan’s wrist.
“He’s busy.” He managed to grind out, his teeth wouldn’t separate, clenched tightly to keep the murderous intent locked behind bony white and he pulled Evan out of Lee’s reach.
“Hey- what…” Lee started but Barty couldn’t hear him, didn’t want to, he was busy pulling Evan away. The Slytherin followed him without a fight. He heard him say something, but the words didn’t filter through the haze of white noise roaring in his ears. His feet carried them up to Ravenclaw Tower. He spat out the answer to the riddle before the last words of it had been uttered – too fucking easy – and strode in. A couple of first years were studying at one of the tables and their eyes were wide and round with fear when they saw Barty’s face’ a sick satisfaction curled up on his stomach. They should be scared. Everyone should be scared. Lee should be fucking scared. By the time they made it to his room, he’d growled at a couple of second years and a seventh year, the latter had simply rolled her eyes and said something to Evan, which made Barty clench his teeth in a snarl, but Evan had laid a hand on his shoulder for him to calm down, said something to the seventh year and then pushed him to move along.
When they finally got to his room, Barty slammed the door shut and boxed in Evan against it. His eyes were wild, his mind was blank, as he stared at the boy in front of him. Evan’s eyes were half-lidded, his lips opened in a soft o, his hands clenched in the front of Barty’s robes. Barty tried to find words, felt his mouth open and close, open and close. The feelings clawed his lungs, his throat raw, breathing hurt as if his ribs were too small, his tongue too big. A whine escaped him and Evan’s hands crawled up across his collarbones, nails digging into the sensitive skin of his neck, before they cupped his face and Barty let out another whine, unable to stop it if he tried.
“It’s okay.” Evan whispered, the words hovered in the air between them before Barty swallowed them greedily like air.
“It’s okay. I know - do it. I want you to.” Barty made a hurt noise in the back of his throat. He wanted to, he did, but he couldn’t… but Evan didn’t stop. He leaned in lips grazing Barty’s as he pressed the words into his mouth like they were the air Barty needed to surive and he was right.
“I’m yours. whatever you need.”
---
It had been a while since Evan had seen Barty in this state. His dark eyes wild with jealousy, his jaw clenched so harshly, he could see the veins flexing underneath the pale skin. His breathing was laboured but slowed almost like he was a predator slowing his breathing so as to not alert his prey. It sent a shiver down Evan’s spine and made arousal curl deliciously in his gut. He couldn’t lie to himself and claim he hadn’t leaned into Lee’s advances a bit to get Barty riled up. He’d craved that feral look in his eyes, no matter how sick he felt sometimes for liking this. He didn’t want Barty to feel bad, never wanted him to feel like Evan wasn’t his, but… there was something primal about this Barty, something that made Evan hot under the collar like nothing else. He wanted to give this boy everything. This boy and his feral eyes that could stare straight into his fucking soul; his violent breath that stole his own on every inhale and blew it straight back into his lungs on every exhale; his sharp teeth that were made to cut and rip his skin; his nails that were meant to draw blood from his flesh; his hot, pale skin made to shine in the moonlight like the beacon calling Evan and his sick, sick fantasies home, home to this boy and his equally fucked up possessiveness.
Evan leaned in even closer, closing his mouth over Barty’s, expecting the bite into his lower lip, drawing blood, tasting the iron on his tongue and digging his own nails into Barty’s cheek, watching little half-moon welds rise with sick satisfaction.
“Like last time.” Barty’s eyes widened, the pupils blown, completely eclipsing the iris; Evan hadn’t ever seen him look prettier. His cheeks ruddy and hot, eyes a molten black, whole body coiled like a snake about to strike the mouse, his hands balled into fists on either side of Evan’s face, not yet touching him.
“Use the curse. I’m yours.” He spoke the words into Barty’s parted lips so they’d become the air he breathed, so they could nestle deep within his ribcage, flutter like a caged bird but never be freed.
---
The words pulled Evan back into his body. The thundering of blood in his ears quieted, his teeth unclenched, he could feel his muscles relax and then coil in another way altogether. The immediate rage of seeing Evan with someone else replaced by the calm swelling need of a predator having spotted its prey. Evan’s face was stunning, so Barty lifted a hand to gently graze his cheekbone. His dark skin was smooth in the low light, shadows cast across his face making the angles of it more pronounced, his eyes had lost any separation of iris and pupil.
“Pretty.” Barty whispered, his voice husky and he felt Evan shiver beneath him; he smirked.
“You’re sure?” Even in the heat of arousal, the haze of jealousy, he knew he needed to check. They’d done this before but the trust Evan gifted him with, stunned Barty every time and he had to check. Check that Evan wanted it, that Evan craved it the same way Barty did.
“Yes.” Evan’s voice already sounded wrecked and it made Barty want to devour him, a wild kind of need clawing its way through his whole body, heat filling out his cock. “Show me I’m yours, make me.” Barty nodded before taking a step back, Evan keened and the sound almost made Barty step back up to him, almost. But no. This was about showing Evan who he belonged to.
“Mine.” Barty growled and he could’ve sworn he saw Evan’s knees buckle before the boy pulled himself back up to his full height.
“I need to remind you, do I?” He took a tiny step forward again, predatory, not close enough for their bodies to touch.
“Didn’t show you enough last time?” Evan’s mouth hung open, his eyes wide, pupils blown, his breath coming in short gasps and Barty grinned where he could see his fingers clench and unclench in his robes. He felt fucking feral with the need to make Evan do exactly as he wanted him to.
“You’re mine. Your body,” Barty raised his wand, letting the cool wood trail down Evan’s neck and chest to push it into the flesh and muscle and bone above his heart. “Your heart and,” he let the wand wander back up his neck and face, pushing it against his lips until they yielded, and the tip sank into the wet heat of his mouth. Evan’s eyes rolled back in his head as his mouth dropped open and Barty groaned at the sight of his wand pushing down onto Evan’s tongue, but he pulled out, trailing a now wet path up Evan’s nose until the wand-tip came to rest in the centre of Evan’s forehead. “Your mind.” Barty’s grin widened unnaturally; Evan moaned loudly.
“Imperio.” The word spilled over his lips, his mind filled with the pure desire to control. Control Evan in every way, no more smiling at other people, no helping others study or find books, no smiles in the direction of anyone except Barty, no touching unless it was Barty’s skin he was caressing, grabbing, scratching, tearing. Barty watched the curse took effect; Evan’s mouth going slack with a dreamy smile, his eyes staring at Barty but slightly glazed with a soft kind of adoration that Barty wanted to drown in, drag Evan down with him and choke on the feeling.
“Hello sweetness,” he crooned, hooking a finger under Evan’s chin, watching him lean into the touch with a sigh and feeling sick satisfaction curl hot and heavy in his stomach.
“Go kneel on the bed for me.” He pressed a kiss to Evan’s mouth, the Slytherin’s lips slack and welcoming, before he turned and leaned back against the door to watch the other boy do exactly as he’d said. Barty felt something within him settle watching Evan obey his orders like this. Like this he was all his, like this Barty had all of him, willingly. He knew Evan wanted this just as much as Barty did.
“So pretty for me.” Barty whispered into Barty’s ear and watched the boy shiver where he was kneeling in the centre of the bed. The Ravenclaw quickly climbed up with him, settling against the headboard, legs spread, wand resting on the blanket next to him.
“Close the drapes.” He said, his voice steady in its command and Evan leaned up to draw the heavy drapes closed, plunging them into relative darkness.
“Lumos astri.” He muttered and the enchantment he’d placed on the ceiling of his four-poster bed lit up. He groaned at the sight of a soft, pliant, obedient Evan cast in gentle silver starlight as thousands of little lights illuminated the space within the drapery. Barty couldn’t resist lifting a hand to Evan’s head, letting his fingers ghost along the pale white of Evan’s dreads. The Slytherin leaned into the touch and they remained there for a heartbeat, then two, lost in the soft touch, but soon the need of their bodies flared again as a soft moan fell from Evan’s lips. Barty curled his fingers into the locs and pulled Evan’s head forward. The boy followed willingly, falling onto his hands for balance; Barty grinned.
“Take off my breaches.” He hissed; Evan’s hands moved immediately. Fingers skimming up his legs, catching on the folds in the fabric before they undid the buttons slowly and pulled the trousers off him.
“Fold them and put them at the end of the bed.” Evan smiled and nodded and heat curled in Barty’s groin as he watched Evan carefully fold his trousers and put them down. Once done, Evan went back to kneeling between Barty’s legs and he looked at him, his gaze open and trusting. Barty let his own eyes roam Evan’s body, from his hair, to his eyes, his flushed cheeks and neck, the collarbones sticking out of the slightly unbuttoned shirt, the robes hanging off his shoulders, the green tie haphazardly tied, his fingers resting loosely against his thighs, his cock straining against the confines of his trousers. A grin pulled at Barty’s lips.
“Kiss me.” Evan’s smile turned eager, and his hands fell upon Barty’s chest even as his lips captured the other boy’s. He tasted like the cookie they’d shared at lunch and the chocolate frog he’d had before class and Barty couldn’t get enough of the wet hot sweetness. His hand came up to cup the back of Evan’s neck and he pulled him in closer, tongue delving into Evan’s mouth, tracing his teeth, pushing, and curling around the other’s tongue. Evan’s sweet moans tumbled freely into the space between them, mixing with the sloppy wet sounds of their mouths meeting; it was music to Barty’s ears. Evan whined when Barty pulled back, dragging his lower lip along with his teeth, sinking into the soft flesh and drawing blood again. Evan chased his mouth but Barty tutted in disapproval.
“That’s enough, sweetness. I’ve got another task for your mouth.” Evan cocked his head in a frankly adorable way that had Barty throw his head back with a guttural groan. The innocent confusion and keen eagerness for the next command had his cock twitch like nothing else. He wanted to control this boy in front of him in every way.
“Lie down on your front, take my cock into your mouth and relax.” He ordered and Evan’s face morphed into that dreamy horny smile again, his eyes went half-lidded as he slid down the bed, lying down on his front and guiding Barty’s half-hard cock into his mouth. Resting his head against Barty’s thigh, he looked up at Barty as if to check if he’d done it right. Barty could see where his cock twitched against the inside of Evan’s cheek as he looked at Evan’s lips wrapped around his dick. It was obscene, the way his plush lips were stretched, kiss-stained and wet, red blood smeared in the corner of his mouth, some of it on Barty’s dick. Barty moaned low in this throat, and let the fingers already in Evan’s hair curl tighter while the other hand came up to feel himself through the hot skin of Evan’s cheek.
“So pretty like this,” he mumbled. “All mine.” A moan vibrated his cock and Evan’s eyes fell closed just as his hips stuttered, rubbing his cock into the bed. Barty kissed his teeth, shaking his head slowly.
‘None of that, sweetness. Only when I say.” A whine from the boy with a cock in his mouth. “Want you to keep my cock warm while I rest. Don’t move, just keep breathing, keep looking at me, only me. No matter what.” Evan’s eyes shot open and locked with Barty’s, the electric zing of attraction between them had them both moaning. Barty let his hand in Evan’s hair relax and took one of his locs between his fingers instead to play with.
“Just breathe, sweetness. Got me all worked up during potions, talking and laughing with that Ravenclaw.” He spat the word even though he knew it was hypocritical.
“You only laugh like that for one Ravenclaw, one person – me. Understood?” Evan moaned around Barty’s dick again and nodded; Barty preened. His cock was warm and wet, Evan’s tongue occasionally flexed against him, drawing a gasp from his lips. If this heaven the muggles spoke of existed, Barty was sure it was Evan Rosier’s mouth. He couldn’t help himself as he rocked his hips once, twice; watched as Evan fought not to rock his own hips down into the bedding for some friction and grinned, closing his eyes. His senses homed in on where he was touching the other boy. The heat of his cheek against the skin of his inner thigh, the tickle of his hair against the top of it, the wet hot cavern of his mouth swallowing around his length, the spit escaping his mouth, making their skin tacky, the dull sharpness of his teeth grazing him occasionally, the twist of Evan’s tongue against the sensitive spot just under the head of his cock, and Evan’s hand curled into the soft fabric of his shirt, thumbnail digging into the skin of his hip with a delicious sting. Barty could stay in this moment forever.
---
Evan felt floaty. Barty’s cock hard and velvety in his mouth, he couldn’t help his tongue darting up occasionally to taste the musk of him. The bitter salt of his precum hitting the back of his throat as Barty continued to harden in his mouth. He just wanted to be good for him, prove to him that he was his, do whatever the boy with the blue tie told him. His own arousal became secondary to the pleasure of just existing with Barty’s cock in his mouth, doing exactly what he’d told him.
He didn’t know how much time passed, could’ve been minutes or hours, he was just happy to be here with him. One of Barty’s hands was playing with his hair, tugging occasionally which made stings of pleasure shoot through his body and made him want to grind down into the bedding but Barty had said no, so he didn’t, content to just lie there, arousal simmering like a low burning campfire, keeping him warm and sated while the cock in his mouth got harder and hotter and spilled more and more salty fluid down his throat. He swallowed around the head occasionally and it elicited a moan from Barty every time which had Evan preening, his own cock filling out more.
“Look at me.” Evan made a small wounded noise when he realised his eyes had fallen closed even though Barty had told him to keep looking at him before but Barty hushed him quickly.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, sweetness.” Evan keened, felt the dick in his mouth twitch, and his own fingers clench tighter in Barty’s shirt.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth now.” Evan’s eyes widened, he felt the blood in his veins rush, singing with arousal and the sharp satisfaction of being used; his dick twitched.
“I want you to fuck the mattress at the same time.” The way Barty’s lips were forming around those words was sinful and arousing and Evan couldn’t get enough, eyes glued on the Ravenclaw’s face.
“But I only want you to come when I tell you.” Evan nodded, jostling the cock in his mouth, eliciting a moan from Barty.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.” If he could’ve, he would’ve grinned with pride at the statement but the cock in his mouth was an effective way to stop that. He felt one of Barty’s fingers touch his lips where they were stretched around his dick, smearing some of the spit there across his chin.
“So messy.” He murmured and Evan made a confused noise; Barty hushed him. Then both his hands sank into Evan’s hair, gripping tight and he felt his head move by the power of Barty’s hands even as he watched Barty’s hips thrust forward and his mouth was suddenly so much more full. He felt tears well up in his eyes at the harsh intrusion as Barty’s cockhead hit the back of his throat and he wanted to gag but he was still floaty, his body not caught up with the feeling of it fully. He watched Barty’s face relax and then scrunch up as he lost himself to the pleasure of Evan’s mouth. Belatedly Evan realised that his own hips were moving to copy Barty’s movements. The sudden realisation of pleasure at the friction, had him moan, which made Barty thrust harder, drawing more tears from Evan’s eyes. He relaxed his throat further, his hips speeding up, chasing his own pleasure from the way Barty was moaning his name, calling him sweetness, telling him he needed Evan, wanted him, that he was all his, all Barty’s, and Evan never wanted to come down from this high. Nothing existed outside of this, outside of them, outside of Barty fucking his mouth in the starlight of his bed and Evan grinding himself into the mattress to please him.
“So bloody pretty – all mine, sweetness, ain’t that right?” Evan couldn’t help but speed up the movements of his hips. Barty hadn’t said he could use his hands, so he let them curl uselessly into the skin of Barty’s thigh and the fabric of his shirt. Barty’s thrusts into his mouth sped up and lost rhythm, catching Evan more off-guard, choking him, making him gag and cry and moan and keen. He was so lost in his own pleasure and he was beautiful. Evan wanted him to look like this forever, tuck him into the space between his ribs and protect him from everything, even as he himself wanted to curl up in the cradle of Barty’s hips, warm and safe and forever his.
“Fuck,” Barty hissed above him, his eyes scrunched close, lips pulled together. “I’m gonna come.” Evan keened wanting to taste more of the saltiness he’d already been swallowing, wanting to give that to Barty and he didn’t have to wait long. Barty’s fingers tightened in his hair, scraping his scalp, his dick driven deep into Evan’s throat by a powerful thrust of his hips and Barty’s moans are all Evan can hear, they fill his hearing, his sight, sink into his blood and flesh and fuel his muscles as they continue to drive his own hips into the blanket and mattress beneath him. The bitter taste of Barty’s spend fills his mouth as he swallows around the cock, tongue working the underside of the velvet-soft, hard cock, milking Barty for all he’s worth until the boy above him squirmed in overstimulation and past it. Barty ws panting, eyes fixed on him and he felt like a God, the way Bart held him like he was holy, like he was everything.
“Yes, just like that,” Barty suddenly started talking again and Evan realised he was still fucking into the mattress desperately. “Just like that, fuck, you’re so hot.” Evan whined, mind still soft and hazy but the urgency of his orgasm was building and building until he couldn’t ignore it anymore. Barty’s cock was still in his mouth, softening with every passing second, his hands were petting over his head gently.
“Just like that, only a bit more, sweetness. You can do it. Be good for me.” Evan wanted to, he really did, his dick was straining in his breaches, the friction was too good, too much, not enough. Evan felt like his whole body was on fire but in a way that made him want to sink his teeth into Barty’s thighs and set him on fire too.
“Yes, sweetness, so good, so hot.” Barty’s continuous praise was making Evan rock his hips harder, faster, rolling them to grind his dick further into the delicious friction his clothes and the bed were providing him.
“Come for me.” The command wasn’t much more than a whisper but the reaction was immediate. White-hot pleasure shot through Evan’s body, his mouth went more slack, his eyes closed as he came, painting the inside of his trousers white. His legs went numb and his fingers dug half-moons into the skin of Barty’s thigh and hip bone.
“Fuck, yes.” The words registered on Evan’s periphery, the haziness of obedience was further mollified by the glow of his orgasm and he was content. Barty was happy; he was happy. He could feel Barty pull his cock out of his mouth, which made Evan whine at the loss, and Barty chuckle, but then he was pulled up, robes and shirt pulled off until they were resting skin to skin, Evan still in his ruined breaches. He could feel Barty’s hands all over him, petting his hair, sorting the dreads to lie as they should, caress his back, dig into the muscle of his shoulders and arms, skirt along his sides before pulling a path back up to his face to gently trace his features. He was still dreamy soft, everything except Barty dulled, his senses homed in on the Ravenclaw, as he felt the spell drop and only the delicious, lingering heat of his orgasm remain.
“Evan?” Barty’s voice was soft, just like it always was after they did this; Evan smiled into his chest and hummed.
“You with me yet?” Evan just hummed again which made Barty chuckle.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Evan just buried deeper into the warm flesh and hard bone that was Barty, letting the calm rise and fall of his ribs, and the melodious hum of his voice guide him back to his body, back to their bed, back to him. He stretched, satisfying pain radiating through stiff and numb legs, pins and needles reminding him of what they did. He turned his face up to Barty, silently asking for a kiss.
“There you are.” Barty murmured as he complied, pressing their lips together in a harsh kiss, fingers curled around Evan’s chin to hold him still, thumb dug into the corner of his mouth to keep it open for Barty to slowly fuck his tongue into. Evan moaned, dick giving a valiant twitch.
“Thank you, sweetness.” Speaking the words into Evan’s mouth, they shivered in tandem.
“Hmm,” Evan hummed, a mischievous grin on his mouth, that Barty pressed his thumb back into, nail almost cutting the thin skin.
“Love when you get like this.” He stretched like a cat, rubbing his chest along Barty’s who huffed in faux annoyance.
“You riled me up on purpose?” Evan felt Barty’s teeth sink into his neck hard; Evan cried out at the pain but quickly relaxed into it as Barty began sucking the skin into his mouth.
“B, you know nothing hurts better than you.” Evan gasped as it made Barty bite at his neck again and then let out a giggle when the other man flipped them to continue sucking, kissing, licking, and biting at his neck, no doubt leaving behind a collar of hickeys to warn off anyone who would dare look at Evan Rosier twice. Evan preened, burying his fingers in Barty’s soft, dark hair.
“Mine.” He whispered, letting his nails dig into the skin of Barty’s back harshly, feeling the skin break and Barty groan into his neck, sucking even harder.