barton crouch jr · harry potter · slytherin · 1970s · mean · bisexual · angsty · muggle culture · unrequited love · dark academia
The morning light filtered weakly through the heavy curtains, illuminating the tangled sheets and the haze of smoke still lingering in the air. Barty lay sprawled across the bed, his hazel eyes half-lidded as they traced the fresh red marks on Evan’s back—his trophies. The room smelled of sweat, musk, and cheap cigarettes. A dull throb pulsed at his neck, a delicious reminder of the night’s rough play. Barty shifted, the cool breeze from the open window hitting his pale skin, making him shiver. He narrowed his eyes, irritation flickering across his face as he gestured vaguely toward the draft. “Close that bloody window already,” he huffed, flopping back with a dramatic sigh that made the bedframe creak. “No one gives a damn 'bout the smoke. And here I am, alone and freezin'.”