Who: Andrew Kirke & Evan Potter. What: Andrew returns from conversations with his mum. Where: Potter/Weasley Flat. When: Sunday 3rd December.
Even with travelling back and forth by apparition - rather than by ferry, as he’d used to do in deference to his mum’s wishes, Andrew had endured a very long weekend. He’d been in Lerwick for most of three days, and his emotions had run the gamut from nervous to relieved to frustrated to, finally, just sad. Fiona had accepted the existence of Elise with such a lack of reaction that Andrew had to wonder if she’d already known. Once he’d assured her that he had no intention of reaching out to his father - “He isn’t good for you.” - she’d been sombrely accepting of his decision to get to know Elise. It wasn’t her fault, and she was Andrew’s sister. Fiona did make it clear that she didn’t want to meet her ex-husband’s other children, even if she wasn’t going to stop her son from doing so.
Which left the far harder conversation. Andrew had put it off and put it off, until Saturday night. Her dismay at the idea of spending Christmas alone (or rather, with her sister and her nieces and nephews) was nothing compared to her bleak certainty that what Andrew and Evan were doing together was wrong, and was going to make them both miserable in the long run. She didn’t cry, for which Andrew was grateful, but her weary explanation that she would continue to pray for patience still hurt. Andrew didn’t want to be prayed for - he was happy, and he desperately wanted Fiona to understand that.
After he’d kissed her goodbye, he apparated straight to Evan’s bedroom, not caring if Evan saw him looking ruffled or sad. He was fairly sure he was both, because he hadn’t bothered to do his hair properly and his trainers were muddy from the walk to church. Evan wasn’t in the room, though the half-finished doodle on the bed suggested that he had been, and Andrew didn’t really know what to do with himself. He could throw himself on the bed and wrap up in blankets, but he wasn’t tired. He could go looking for Evan, but he really didn’t want to bump into Ron.
Frowning slightly, he dropped his overnight bag on the floor and crouched to look through it for pyjamas. Evan had promised to cook, and Andrew couldn’t see any reason to go home after dinner.
--
Evan had not had a pleasant weekend. Most of it he’d spent worrying about how Andrew’s trip home was going. At first, Evan had thought that he was worried because what if Andrew’s mum told him he shouldn’t be with Evan and Andrew listened, but Evan had quickly disregarded that as the reason for his anxiety. For one, Evan didn’t actually think that would happen. For another, even if it did, that’d be sad and Evan would hate it but he’d have no choice but to accept it. No, that wasn’t the reason for Evan’s anxiety. He realised, easily, that he was worried for Andrew. Despite Andrew’s suggestion that perhaps his mum would just throw him out when she found out about Elise, Evan knew that wouldn’t be the case. Given, he’d never met Andrew’s mum, but from what he’d heard about it, Evan really didn’t think that she was a cruel woman. Religious, yes, but that hardly implied much else than a particular type of madness.
What worried Evan was the fact that no matter what Andrew’s mum’s reaction would be when Andrew told her about Evan, it wasn’t going to be one that Andrew would be pleased with. It physically hurt Evan to think that Andrew’s mum couldn’t just be happy for Andrew. It wasn’t fair. Andrew deserved his mum to be happy for him. To Evan, it didn’t greatly matter whether his parents were happy for him. He was glad that they were but if they hadn’t been, he wouldn’t have cared as much as he knew Andrew did. Evan wished they could swap places. Wished Andrew could have Lily who, in Evan’s opinion, was the best mother in the world. And sure, Evan recognised he was rather biased in that view because she was his mum, but Lily had been nothing if not supportive of Evan. And of Andrew, really. That was what Andrew deserved. And Evan knew that was not going to be what he found in Lerwick.
Andrew had journalled Evan to tell him he wouldn’t be back on Saturday evening and that telling Fiona about Elise had gone perfectly fine. That was good. Given, Evan had also expected that, but he was still glad to hear it. Sunday, though, Evan knew Andrew would be back, he just didn’t know when. Since getting up that morning, Evan had to tell himself twice to stop chewing on his lower lip nervously. He’d tried to do some reading, abandoning it after realising he couldn’t concentrate at all. Then he’d tried to do some blueprints but by the third time he’d put a door in a place doors simply couldn’t be, Evan had abandoned that, too. In the end, he’d settled for drawing absentmindedly. Taking a tea break, Evan had left the sketchbook on the table in favour of tea. At least there was very rarely a situation so nerve wrecking that he couldn’t concentrate on tea making.
With a mug in hand, Evan returned to his bedroom, briefly surprised to find Andrew there. “Hey,” he said before looking down at his mug. “Burning hot beverage for comfort?” He asked but was already half-way putting the mug down, since despite whatever sort of distress Andrew might be in, Evan doubted it would ever reach the sort of levels where tea was going to be comforting to him. Instead, Evan bridged the distance between them, pulling Andrew into a hug.
--
“Is it tea?” Andrew asked, smiling slightly. He assumed it was, because although Evan did drink coffee occasionally, it was far more common to find him with tea, especially if he wasn’t studying. Andrew didn’t like tea, and he drank coffee more for stimulation than comfort. When Evan pulled him into a hug, though, it was far more reassuring than any hot beverage. Andrew wrapped his arms around Evan, pyjama top in one hand as he pressed his cold nose into Evan’s neck. “Hi.”
Whatever Fiona might say about Evan, Andrew knew it was all nonsense. Evan could only make him miserable by leaving, which Andrew hoped he wasn’t going to do. Certainly there had been no signs Evan was going to do it now, what with them planning Christmas together and everything. “I’m free for Christmas,” he said, since that had been the motivation for bringing Evan up at all - and the only part of the conversation that had been anything like successful. “She didn’t even ask about the ferry.” Which meant Andrew was free to apparate on Christmas day, and just not talk about how he’d arrived, and hope Fiona wouldn’t ask.
He finally let go, taking a step back from Evan and dropping his pyjama top on the bed. He didn’t want to change, but it was too cold to go outside. He ran a hand through his hair, vaguely wondering if he ought to fix it now Evan was here. “I’ll apparate there and back on Christmas day, so you can have me for all the nights,” he said. “Unless you’re going to stay with your family?” In which case, a bed under his mum’s roof was probably better than an empty bed in a holiday cottage.
--
“Good,” Evan said when Andrew told him that he’d be free for Christmas. It wasn’t really good. Or rather, it was good that their plans for Christmas could go ahead, it wasn’t good the Evan was sure it hadn’t been a very pleasant conversation to have. But he didn’t have much else to say about it. It seemed almost redundant to ask Andrew how the conversation had gone, because Evan could imagine it. If Andrew wanted to talk about it, Evan assumed he would. On other occasions, different topics, Evan might’ve pushed, but this? He wasn’t quite sure what the point would be. Instead, Evan smiled slightly when Andrew ran his hand through his hair, a mess that it was.
Putting a hand on Andrew’s chest, Evan pushed him towards the bed. “Sit,” he told Andrew. Once he had, Evan knelt down in front of him, reaching to untie Andrew’s shoes. “Does Lerwick not have pavements?” He asked, careful not to brush his fingers against the dried mud on Andrew’s shoes. “Is it all mud paths and wild cows?” He added with a smirk, looking up at Andrew, before slipping his shoe off and then repeating the action with the other, too, moving them to one side of the bed, so they could cast a cleaning charm on them later.
Moving closer, Evan reached to pull Andrew’s shirt up and off, leaning in to press a soft kiss against Andrew’s side, as he picked the pyjama top Andrew had abandoned up, carefully making Andrew lift his arms so Evan could put it on him. Then, he ran his hands lower, undoing Andrew’s jeans, pulling those off just as slowly, careful not to get the muddy ends dragged across the carpet. “I’m not going to stay,” he said conversationally. “I rather spend the night with you,” Evan told him truthfully, putting the jeans next to the shoes since those too would need cleaning charms.
--
Andrew had known that Evan would be pleased they could spend Christmas together, but it was still nice to have it confirmed, to know that someone important was happy about their plans. Andrew knew Aisling would be happy as well. That was two out of three of the important people in his life who would be happy. Byron and Elise too, not that Andrew was planning on telling them there’d been any doubt. “We’re going to have the best Christmas,” he said. He really did believe that, and saying it out loud served as a good reminder of just what he’d won as a result of having the unhappy conversation.
He sat as instructed, not sure what to expect. He half-thought Evan might be about to construct a blanket fort around him, so was surprised when instead Evan began helping him undress. Andrew hardly needed the help, he wasn’t ill, but there seemed very little point in protesting. Evan’s touches were much nicer than what would have been a purely practical changing of clothes otherwise. “Yes,” he said, instead of explaining that it had been raining, and that muddy puddles had formed across the narrow gravel track to the church. “Cows everywhere. Jim would love it.” He wondered, if he’d been sad enough, whether Jim might have come to Lerwick, and then had to bite back a laugh as he imagined his mum’s shock and horror faced with a glowing-eyed cat.
Dressed in his pyjama top and boxers, Andrew reached out to pull Evan up. “Good,” he said, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. He’d much rather Evan spend the night with him, too, so they could wake up together on all the mornings. “Are we going to have time to do Christmas presents before we leave? Or should we do them when we get back? That might be better.” Andrew would have to be up early, for church, and it would be nice to have Evan and presents to come back to.
--
“Jim would definitely love it,” Evan confirmed with a nod. Jim liked scarring animals that were bigger than him. And probably smaller than him. So he’d love to boss around the cows of Lerwick. “Maybe next time he can come, too,” he said smiling. Jim would probably enjoy that and Evan was quite sure that for as long as there were no lazer eyes or arse fog, Jim would be much preferred as a visitor by Andrew’s mum than Evan. Whilst Evan was joking, he did also quite like the idea of Andrew having someone else there, someone who might stare at him whilst he slept, but at least would do so supportively. Or as much as Jim could really ever be supportive. It would be better than not having Jim.
When Andrew reached out for Evan, he stood easily, crawling into Andrew’s lap, tilting his head so Andrew could press kisses against his skin easier. “We can do Christmas presents whenever you’d like,” Evan told him draping his arms over Andrew’s shoulders loosely. “We could even go continental and open them on Christmas eve,” he said with a smile, before biting his lip. “I need to get you a present first, though,” he said thoughtfully. “Do you want to make a gingerbread house? In general, not as a present,” Evan asked, shifting so he could sit in Andrew’s lap more comfortably.
--
Though he’d had the same thought, Andrew wasn’t really sure Jim would willingly come with him. When he imagined trying to carry Jim to Lerwick, he could only assume Jim would be a very unwillingly passenger. He’d much rather invite Evan, if he could somehow be sure they wouldn’t bump into Fiona. He’d quite like to show Evan the places he grew up and went to school. “Probably won’t be for a while,” he said. After Christmas, there wasn’t really a reason to go home until Mothering Sunday and Easter.
Sitting back against the pillows, Andrew wrapped his arms around Evan once more. This was good. Comforting. “I need to get you a present too,” he said. He had no ideas, so far. Evan wasn’t an easy person to buy things for. Andrew’s best hope was another experience - maybe not a holiday but something in the UK instead. He didn’t want to repeat himself, or risk running out of holidays to take Evan on. “Sure,” he agreed. “I’ve never made a gingerbread house.” He’d seen them, but he’d never actually made one. “Will I be in charge of building supplies?” he asked, knowing Evan’s suspicion of things cooked in the oven.
--
Evan felt a little guilty at how much it pleased him when Andrew said he probably wouldn’t be going home for a while yet. Seeing how Evan regularly popped around his parents’ house to see Lily, and on the rare occasion James, the fact that Andrew didn’t see his mum as often should’ve made Evan sad. Except it didn’t. Andrew wasn’t happy when he went home and all Evan ever wanted was for him to be happy. So whilst he felt a bit guilty since Andrew’s mum wouldn’t get to see him for a while, Evan also wasn’t really sorry for not wanting Andrew to go home to see her.
When Andrew asked if he’d be in charge of the building supplies, Evan laughed. “Well, I’m not going to have you in charge of the planning,” he told Andrew. “I’ve got blueprints for it already,” he admitted with a small smile, that was definitely more sheepish than not. Then, after pressing a soft kiss against Andrew’s lips, Evan gave him another grin. “I’m really glad you’re back,” he told Andrew honestly. “I missed you,” which he had. Mostly, Evan had worried, but now that Andrew was actually back, Evan realised that he definitely had missed Andrew, as well. He was so used to having Andrew there, whether in person or just in the knowledge that he was only an apparition away. When Andrew went home he wasn’t just an apparition away and that somehow made all the difference.
--
Andrew chuckled. “No,” he agreed. “I shouldn’t be in charge of planning, or we’ll end up with a gingerbread floor and not much else.” He smiled against Evan’s lips, fairly confident he could deal with baking sheets of gingerbread, as long as he could find a recipe. Evan could then be in charge of marshalling those sheets into a house. Or, quite possibly, houses. “You made blueprints?” He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was a little. “How big a house are we making?” He had the sudden image of a gingerbread wendy house. Maybe the squirrels could eat it. Did squirrels eat gingerbread?
Andrew sighed, cuddling into Evan. “I missed you too.” He paused, taking a breath before deciding whether he wanted to keep talking. “I wanted to tell mum all about you. I kept thinking of things, like when you took me to make marbles, or when we walked around campus.” Of course, on Saturday night he had talked to his mum about Evan, but it hadn’t been at all like the conversations in his head. “I’ll just have to tell you about you instead,” he teased.
--
“Gingerbread floor is a very important start,” Evan assured Andrew, bringing his hand up so he could run his fingers through the hair at the back of Andrew’s head. When asked about the blueprints and how big a gingerbread house Evan intended to build, he scrunched up his nose a bit. “It’s an ambitious project,” he replied in a very non-committal fashion, which may have implied that it was a bit too ambitious. Evan didn’t really do unimpressive but he did recognise that there was probably a need to downsize. It was unlikely that between them they’d build a six story gingerbread house.
When Andrew said that he missed Evan too, it earned him a soft smile, that then slightly fell when Andrew said how he had wanted to tell his mum about Evan but instead would have to tell Evan about Evan. “You could tell my mum,” Evan suggested gently. “She told me a while back how sometimes, when people are as involved with each other as we are, their parents liked to meet,” he explained, trying to recall exactly how Lily had put it. She’d always been very good at explaining things to Evan. “She knows that that’s unlikely to happen with your mum,” Evan added before Andrew could comment. “But I think the fact that mum would be willing to try says a lot,” Evan said. He had, of course, told Lily that he did not think it likely that Andrew’s mum would have any interest in meeting Evan’s parents, but he did find the sentiment really sweet. “She’s happy for us,” Evan concluded. He knew that it was nowhere near as important as if Andrew’s mum had been happy for him, but it was something.
--
“I’m a Gryffindor,” Andrew said, leaning into Evan’s hand, “I like ambitious projects.” He frowned slightly after he’d said it, because ambition was supposed to be a Slytherin thing, but building a massive gingerbread house seemed, to him, far more Gryffindor. Or Ravenclaw. “Can I see the blueprints or are they a secret?” He liked looking at Evan’s blueprints, and he was getting to understand them a little better - he thought.
Andrew didn’t laugh when Evan said he could tell Lily how great Evan was, because he knew how important Lily was to Evan. “I think your mum knows you’re great,” he said, smiling. He wasn’t sure whether it would help to tell Lily, it didn’t feel quite the same. “I mostly tell Aisling. She thinks we’re endearing.” He pressed a kiss to Evan’s cheek. It was still sweet of Evan to offer, and it did help that one set of parents, at least, could be happy for them. “Your mum can meet her, if she wants,” he added, mostly joking. “Aisling’s great with parents.” He slipped his fingers between Evan’s, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m glad she’s happy for us. I thought dinner went well.” Andrew had tripped over his words much less frequently than on previous occasions. “I think having Neville there helped. I didn’t feel so - intrude-y.”
--
Evan laughed when Andrew said that as a Gryffindor, he was a fan of ambitious projects. “Of course, you are,” he said with amusement, pressing a kiss against Andrew’s cheek. As for the blueprints, Evan’s grin widened. “Well, you are the engineer, it’s very important for you to approve of the blueprints before we build the house,” Evan assured him. Evan didn’t think it would be very helpful if his blueprints were to be secret. That, and it did really please him that Andrew wanted to see them. Evan, of course, understood blueprints. Andrew, on the other hand, did not, which meant that Evan would have to explain things to him. It made Evan very happy to know that Andrew trusted him to explain it in a way that Andrew could understand.
“We can definitely introduce Aisling to my parents,” Evan confirmed. It’d be nice, he thought. Aisling wasn’t quite like having a parent, but she definitely cared for Andrew a lot. “She’ll bring them expensive wine and tell them about how great you are,” he said with a grin, before pressing another kiss against Andrew’s lips. “It’ll be excellent,” Evan concluded. “And yes, I think the dinner went well,” he agreed as an afterthought.
--
Andrew didn’t think it very likely he would disapprove of anything that Evan had come up with, but since he wanted to see the blueprints anyway, he didn’t quibble. “So when are we building it?” he asked. “In the cottage, or before?” Presumably, the cottage would have an oven, and whatever else was necessary to make a gingerbread house. Naturally, Andrew could work both magical and muggle ovens. “If it’s an ambitious project, we probably need at least a day.” Maybe longer, as Andrew assumed you couldn’t build a house with gingerbread that was hot from the oven.
Evan’s plan for what Aisling meeting the Potters would be like was probably accurate, and if Lily wanted to meet Andrew’s family then Aisling really was the next best thing. Unless she wanted to meet Elise and Byron, but Andrew thought it was probably too early for that. Aisling, Andrew hoped, would be pleased to have been asked, and would definitely say as many nice things about him as she could think of. Maybe Andrew should have thought of this before. “I would say we can invite them to Panquake House, but it’s a bit busy.” There was really no way of guaranteeing other band members wouldn’t show up mid-meal. “Here? I can cook something.”
--
“In the cottage,” Evan replied. “We’ll have lots of time to spend a whole day building a gingerbread house,” he commented. They were going for a week and sure there was the actual Christmas and all the sex they had to have in all the rooms of the house, but Evan was sure they’d still have plenty of time to build a gingerbread house together. And be lazy on together on the sofas. And take a bath together. Evan was very excited about all the things that they were going to be able to do in a house all to themselves for a week. “It’s going to be so great,” Evan said, referring to the whole holiday, rather than just the gingerbread making.
At the suggestion that they could all have a dinner at the flat, Evan nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Why don’t we do that after Christmas?” He suggested. With Christmas coming up everyone probably had lots on their plate. James had been busy for months now. The new year, though, would probably be easier for everyone. “Look at us,” Evan said with a grin. “Planning dinner parties like some sort of adults,” he teased.
--
Andrew grinned, stroking his thumb over Evan’s knuckles. It was going to be great, and now he could enjoy it without feeling like he was lying to his mum. It wasn’t the perfect outcome, obviously, but it was about what he’d expected. “I’m glad I told her,” he said softly, because Evan had been right when he’d said Andrew would be less upset by telling her the truth, even if she would never react the way he wanted. “Thanks for telling me I should.” Evan might not know it, but Andrew thought he gave pretty good advice - at least to Andrew.
“After Christmas sounds good,” he agreed. “I’ll tell Aisling.” Not that he thought Aisling was going to need over a month to prepare, but he’d still tell her before they actually invited James and Lily, in case for some reason she didn’t want to. He snorted when Evan pointed out how grown up they were being. “Quick,” he said, “we’d better do something teenager-y. I don’t want to be an adult.” Which reminded him he had plans with Elise and Byron the next day. “I’m getting drunk tomorrow, what are you going to do to be a teenager again?”
--
The way Andrew stroked over Evan’s hand made Evan smile, the soft touch sending a small wave of feeling through his whole body. “I’m glad you told her, too,” he confirmed, because Evan did think that hiding it, or pretending there was some other reason to go away for Christmas, would’ve made Andrew much unhappier. When Andrew thanked Evan for telling him he should tell his mum, Evan shook his head. “I didn’t tell you what to do,” he said. “I just agreed that the thing you thought you should do was the best option,” which as far as Evan was concerned had been exactly what he’d done.
When Andrew said he was going to get drunk as his act of teenager-y, following it up by asking what Evan was going to do, Evan snorted. “I don’t know. Probably read about the evolution of mealworms and have an existential crisis about biology?” He offered. “I’m quite sure we were very different as teenagers,” he added as if the statement itself hadn’t illustrated as much.
--
Andrew sighed, but happily, before pressing a soft kiss to Evan’s lips. “Good. I like it when we agree on things.” Andrew knew that Evan was mostly glad Andrew was happy, or at least happier, but the fact that Andrew’s happiness was Evan’s main criteria for judging Andrew’s life choices made things so much easier. It was the same with Aisling, Andrew thought. She didn’t have opinions on what ‘the right thing’ to do was, as long as Andrew did what made him happy. Fiona, of course, was very, very different. “It was still good advice.” Without it, Andrew might have tried to do what would make his mum least unhappy, and therefore ended up unhappy himself.
Wrinkling his nose slightly at Evan’s idea of teenage fun, Andrew slid his free hand to Evan’s thigh. “What did mealworms evolve from?” he asked, curious. He’d never imagined worms evolving from much of anything, nor could he begin to guess why Evan would have any kind of crisis about it. “You were a teenager when we met,” Andrew pointed out. “I’m sure we can think of something teenager-y to do that’s more fun than mealworms.”
--
Evan liked it, too, when they agreed on things. But mostly, he liked how they talked about those things before coming to an agreement. It was never one of them deciding for the other, but always something that they discussed and decided on. That was very nice. “It was good advice,” Evan agreed with a nod. “One that you gave yourself,” he added more teasingly. “I just agreed that it was a good one,” Evan told Andrew before pressing another kiss against his lips happily.
"Well," Evan drew out slowly. "Mealworms themselves are the larval form of a mealworm beetle," he explained. "Mealworm beetle mates with a mealworm beetle and they lay eggs. Then those eggs turn into larva, then pupa, and then become a new mealworm beetle. So technically, mealworms evolve from an egg," Evan concluded. "Fun fact," he added as an afterthought. "The whole lifecycle of a mealworm beetle takes about a year," he informed Andrew, before biting his lip. "Well, maybe 'fun fact' is a very generous phrase to employ there," he wondered out loud. It was a fun fact to Evan.
--
With a chuckle, Andrew shook his head. He didn’t really agree that he’d been the one to come up with the advice, but either way it had worked out about as well as it was possible for it to work out, it in the end. “Thank you for agreeing,, then,” he said to Evan. “It helped convince me.”
Andrew had never known that mealworms turned into beetles - and he had no idea what a mealworm beetle might look like. “Where do you find out these things?” he asked, amused. The answer was probably ‘books’, but it still amazed Andrew just how many things about animals Evan could remember. “Is a year a long time for an insect?” Andrew asked. “I mean, don’t some of them only live for a day?” With anyone else, Andrew doubted he would have found discussing insect lifecycles very much fun at all, but Evan managed to make everything interesting. Even mealworms.
--
“I read,” Evan replied with a shrug. “And that would depend on what you want to classify as an insect for that particular question,” he explained. Evan, personally, would not aim to compare a beetle’s lifespan with the lifespan of a mosquito, since they weren’t necessarily classed in the same biological subsections. It was a thought that Evan was about to explain to Andrew before he frowned instead. “Is that truly what you want to talk about right now?” Evan asked suspiciously, because Andrew sounded interested but Evan often assumed that people sounded interested in the lifecycles of bugs when they actually much rather Evan didn’t talk about lifecycles of bugs.
Bringing his hands up more, Evan shifted in Andrew’s lap, pushing himself forward more, creating more friction between them. “Because you are right,” he confirmed. “There are other things that I did when I was a teenager that I could do now,” since Evan had technically been a teenager when they’d first met and he could think of a lot of interesting things they could do other than talk about bugs.
--
Andrew honestly would have enjoyed talking to Evan about the lifecycles of bugs - but when presented with a choice between that and sex with Evan, there was really no competition. He set both hands on Evan’s waist, letting himself fall back against the bed while he pushed Evan’s shirt up over his head. “I think you’re overdressed for those things,” he teased, dropping the shirt on the floor and running his hands over Evan’s back, down to the waistband of his trousers.
He tugged, gently, on the material. “Come here and kiss me,” he demanded. When Evan obliged by leaning down over him, Andrew wrapped his arms around him and kissed him slowly. As much fun as talking about beetles would have been, this was definitely better.