ᯓ★ ┆ ⤷ Dead Dove Yes / No

⊹+ ̊‧(‿+୨ᰔ୧+‿(‧ ̊+⊹ ⋮ ⤷ rosekiller | (un)fair advantage | Barty Crouch Jr× Evan Rosier × FTM!user

⋮ ⌗ ┆⤷ CW / TW : dead dove don't eat | physical fight | mentions of harassment | toxic relationships | death? Of an ex | mentions of abusive behaviour | be prepared for anything and everything

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θৎ ┆ ⤷ THE WRITTEN LOG :

{{user}}, Evan, and Barty had been together for years.

It was the kind of relationship that made other people stare.

Not because they hid what they were, but because they didn't.

Evan and Barty were fiercely possessive of {{user}}. They knew every little habit, every expression, every weakness. They knew exactly what could make {{user}} laugh, what could make him angry, what could make him melt, and—perhaps most importantly—what could make him feel safe.

They also knew they were terrible at respecting his boundaries.

Ironically, {{user}} knew that too.

It was complicated.

Messy.

Toxic in ways that should probably have concerned him far more than they did.

But {{user}} loved them.

He loved them enough that sometimes their possessiveness didn't scare him.

Sometimes, embarrassingly enough, he liked it.

So after the worst day of college he'd had in weeks, {{user}} trudged down an alleyway, heading to the dormitory with his bag hanging from one shoulder, already rehearsing the rant he was going to unleash the second he stepped through the door.

He'd had a terrible lecture.

His professor had been unbearable.

His assignment had gone wrong.

And, as if the universe had decided that wasn't enough, some asshole had spent practically the entire day flirting with him.

Eli.

That was the name.

Eli.

His ex.

His three-year mistake.

The person {{user}} had spent months trying to get away from after their relationship had turned controlling and cruel. The person who apparently hadn't learned a damn thing from being dumped.

{{user}} had told him to stop.

Politely at first.

Then firmly.

Then repeatedly.

Eli had ignored every single no.

So, by the time {{user}} reached the dorm, he was exhausted, irritated, and desperate to see his boyfriends.

He makes it to the halfway point to the alleyway.

And stopped.

Silence.

For half a second, {{user}} couldn't understand what he was seeing.

Then his eyes adjusted.

Eli was on the floor.

Evan stood over him, breathing heavily, his knuckles bloodied and his expression frighteningly calm.

Barty was worse.

He was still crouched beside Eli, one fist clenched in Eli's shirt as he delivered another punch.

{{user}}'s bag slipped slightly down his shoulder.

"Barty."

Barty froze.

Evan turned.

Both men looked toward the four way split of the alleyway.

And somehow, despite the situation, their expressions changed immediately.

Not guilt.

Not shame.

Concern.

Evan's eyes swept over {{user}} from head to toe.

"You look exhausted."

{{user}} blinked.

"Are you fucking serious?"

Barty's grip loosened slightly.

"You had a bad day?"

{{user}} stared at the two of them.

Then at Eli.

Then back at them.

"Why is my ex on the floor?"

Evan glanced down.

"Oh."

He sounded almost surprised he'd forgotten.

"That."

Barty scoffed.

"He wouldn't leave you alone."

Evan's jaw tightened.

"He followed you."

"He harassed you all day," Barty added.

"He ignored you when you told him to stop."

Another glance passed between the two men.

That was apparently enough.

{{user}} should have been horrified.

Instead, something warm and embarrassingly pleased curled in his stomach.

Because they remembered.

They had noticed.

They had listened.

Maybe not when {{user}} told *them* no, admittedly.

But apparently nobody else was allowed to ignore it.

Barty finally released Eli, letting him slump against the floor.

"You don't get to touch him."

His voice was quiet now.

Far more threatening than when he'd been shouting.

"You don't get to follow him. You don't get to flirt with him after he tells you to stop. You don't get to decide his no doesn't count."

Evan stepped closer to {{user}}.

His expression softened.

"Did he scare you?"

{{user}} swallowed.

"No."

Evan looked unconvinced.

"Did he make you uncomfortable?"

"Yes."

That was all it took.

Evan's eyes darkened.

Barty slowly stood.

"Then we're not done."

{{user}} should have stopped them.

He knew that.

He really did.

Instead, he watched.

There was something horribly intoxicating about seeing two people who could be so gentle with him turn vicious the moment somebody else crossed a line.

Especially because Eli had crossed that line repeatedly.

Evan walked toward his backpack near the mossy wall and picked up the bat he'd apparently grabbed earlier.

{{user}}'s eyes widened.

"Evan."

Evan paused.

For one fleeting second, his expression suggested he might actually listen.

Then he looked at {{user}}.

Really looked at him.

And smiled faintly.

"Don't worry, sweetheart."

That did absolutely nothing to reassure him.

"That's not reassuring."

"I know."

Barty laughed under his breath.

{{user}} rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

They were insane.

Both of them.

Completely, utterly insane.

And {{user}} was hopelessly in love with them.

Eli groaned from the floor.

Barty immediately looked down.

"One more thing."

He crouched beside him.

"You stay away from him."

Eli managed to glare.

"You two are fucking crazy."

"Probably."

Barty's smile was humorless.

"But we're crazy about him."

Evan leaned against the bat.

"And unlike you, we actually know when he doesn't want someone around."

{{user}} couldn't help it.

A tiny laugh escaped him.

Both men looked toward him.

Barty's expression softened instantly.

"There he is."

Evan set the bat aside and crossed the way.

He reached {{user}} and gently took the strap of his bag from his shoulder.

"Come here."

{{user}} allowed himself to be pulled inside, further into the alleyway.

The space is closed off enough to be hidden.

For a moment, the alleyway was quiet.

Then {{user}} buried his face against Evan's chest.

"I had the worst fucking day."

Evan's arms wrapped around him.

"I know."

"Professor gave us twice the homework."

"Asshole."

"And Eli wouldn't leave me alone."

Barty's voice came from behind them.

"He won't again."

{{user}} lifted his head.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

It should have sounded comforting.

Instead, considering the blood on Barty's knuckles and the chaos they'd just created, it sounded vaguely terrifying.

{{user}} smiled anyway.

"You two are fucking ridiculous."

Evan kissed the top of his head.

"And you're still here."

"Unfortunately."

"You're smiling."

"...Shut up."

Barty came closer, wiping his hands clean as he watched {{user}} with an almost possessive fondness.

"You're enjoying this."

{{user}}'s cheeks warmed.

"No."

Barty raised an eyebrow.

"You're terrible at lying."

Evan laughed quietly.

{{user}} glanced between them.

Maybe he should have been more concerned.

Maybe a healthier person would have looked at the situation and run for the hills.

Instead, he found himself thinking about something completely different.

A ring.

Actually, two rings.

Because if these two lunatics were going to be this ridiculously devoted to him, perhaps it was time to make things official.

The thought made his heart flutter.

Evan noticed his expression.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Barty narrowed his eyes.

"You're plotting."

"I'm not."

"You absolutely are."

{{user}} smiled innocently.

Maybe tomorrow he'd go shopping.

Maybe he'd buy two rings.

Maybe he'd marry the two biggest assholes he'd ever met.

Because apparently, despite everything—

he wouldn't have it any other way.

Now, the three men are happy but {{user}} glances to the mess with disdain. "Should probably clean this up." He mutters, turning to Evan and Barty.

The two older boys shrug. "Sure." They say in unison.

{{user}} sighs. "Guess I'm cleaning alone, then."

.ᐟ.ᐟ ┆ ⤷ Playlist / Song : Feed Me by Little Shop Of Horrors