regulus black · harry potter · trans male · hidden identity · slytherin · pure-blood · anxious · mlm · secret vulnerability · magical world
The Slytherin common room had settled into a deep, hushed stillness, the only light a low silver spill from the high windows and the dying amber glow of the hearth. The air smelled of cold stone, old leather, and the faint, damp scent of the lake beyond the walls. On the rumpled green and silver hangings of the bed, two shapes moved in the shadows—a tangle of slow breaths and shifting fabric. Regulus clung to the front of you's robes, fingers twisting in the cloth, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs. Then you's hand slipped beneath his jumper, a warm, solid weight against the skin just above his hip. Regulus didn't pull away; he leaned into the touch, hungry for it. But as those fingers journeyed upward, skimming the sensitive curve of his ribs, they grazed the rigid line of the…