'cause you're my king and I'm your lionheart

[selfie_centered]

♦️🌹

and in the sea that's painted black
creatures lurk below the deck
but you're a queen and I'm a lionheart

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[selfie_centered]

[Cater's so overcome with amusement and surprise that getting the physical highground on him is easy. he's incredulous, listening to Riddle talk like this, so much so that the idea that Cater probably shouldn't be as into it as he is fails to occur to him.

playfighting so outranks whatever dumb thoughts his brain wants to keep jumping back to!!]

You're really gonna fight me on this one? Might be the Queen's castle, but it is the King's bed!

[he levels Riddle with this mischievous, almost dark sort of smile that Riddle probably rarely sees thrown his way. he is so very serious about their very unserious playfighting, and reaches out to grab Riddle's wrist with a surprisingly firm hold.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Upper body strength isn't a spot that Riddle excels in. However... he doesn't pull back when his wrist is grabbed. He's going to use that against Cater, just you watch! ]

I am. How else would we define the rules, to make sure they're set in stone?

[ Riddle's leg moves, to allow him to use what actual strength he does have, to push and shove. The leverage of his own wrist being grabbed? Yeah, he'll use that, falling into Cater and squirming to get atop him.

Or, whatever this position ends up being, with one of his hands grabbing his shoulder, the other trying to claim Cater's own wrist, and his legs straddling one of Cater's thighs.

Totally helping with the dumb thoughts. Yeah. ]

[selfie_centered]

[wait, now, Cater didn't think he was underestimating Riddle or anything, but it's become immediately clear that his calculations were... wrong.]

Hey— I'm not gonna just go down without a fight, y'know!

[of course, Riddle would have the upper hand against any one person. against any one Cater on his own.

that just means Cater needs back up.

a twist of his finger— his magical pen's nearby enough, he's in a good mood, it's fine— a wink, and suddenly Cater is also speaking into Riddle's ear.

an arm goes around Riddle's waist, and the Cater beneath Riddle has to acknowledge this is a great view, actually.]

Ooh, wait, I've got the perfect line for this one.

"Checkmate."

[crimsontyrant]

[ Suddenly, the tides have turned. Riddle all but squeaks as he feels the arm around his waist, the sound of Cater's voice in his ear.

How was this fair?! ]

Hey-!

[ It isn't as if Riddle couldn't collar the Split Card to make it go away, but his own pen is tucked away, too far for him to justify using his UM, especially with how recent his Overblot was.

Not that the thought even crosses his mind. No, instead, he's squirming, trying to get his wrist free and to manuever to push at the Split, to get himself free from the arm there.

... But he's stuck. ]

That isn't fair...!

[ He finally exclaims, face flushed from the contact, simple as it may be. ]

I can still. Get free. And win!

[ Says Riddle, currently leaning back towards the Cater behind him, his eyes flicking from the one under to the space over his shoulder where he can see the other. He's seeking out a weak spot, give him a second.

Or don't. ]

[selfie_centered]

[but the Cater behind Riddle throws his other arm around Riddle, too, absolutely giggling in delight.]

I don't think you're gettin' anywhere, pal~

[is it bold to tease Riddle Rosehearts so blatantly? maybe. maybe Cater's forgotten Riddle's supposed to be anything different than anyone else. well, he is different, sure, but not in the way that Cater has to be afraid of upsetting him.

the idea Riddle would collar him? over this? is just as far from his mind as it is from Riddle's.

the Cater beneath Riddle starts to sit up as much he can, grabbing on to Riddle's waist and his own other self's arm for support, the two of them trying to crowd their tiny little housewarden.]

C'mon~ I thought you said I was supposed to warm you up, anyway?

[is he being a bit of a menace? is he testing boundaries? sure.

but Riddle will make it clear if Cater needs to cut it out. he always does. so for now, a little joke's just a little joke.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Oh.

Oh, this was.
Not bad. It wasn't an unpleasant position to be in, sandwiched between two Caters. In fact, it is pretty warm--

But that's besides the point. As it stands, Riddle is practically tangled between them both, straddling one leg of the one under him, his own legs pressed so close, so tight, so near. His waist, grabbed, and, while he does have his hands free for the most part... he can't do anything against two of them. ]

You cheated.

[ Can Cater handle this? The attack of the cute little pout, something so childish, so free, that maybe it really is difficult to remember his current compny is Riddle Rosehearts.

Riddle shifts, trying to shuffle to help the Cater under him get comfortable. As far as he's concerned, they're still "fighting"- but it wouldn't be fair to make Cater ache in any awkward positioning. ]

Are you not going to take responsibility for it? The game's hardly fair when one person cheats. That should be a loss.

[ ... Except it's King Cater's rules, isn't it? ]

[selfie_centered]

[oh, he can handle it. the selfish part of him, at least. Riddle adjusts and Cater takes advantage of it, shifting just enough so that he can lean his chin against Riddle's chest and look up at that cute little pout of his. he can't exactly wrap his arms around both Riddle and himself, so instead his hands rest on Riddle's sides. One-and-a-half hugs is still more than one.]

I don't know about that.

[the Cater leaning over his shoulder adds;]

I don't remember any rules about it being me against you.

[he wonders when Riddle will really tell him to stop. when this will become too much again? it certainly doesn't seem like too much yet. Back to the Cater mostly-in-front-of-Riddle;]

And it's just me!

That's my defense, your majesty.

[crimsontyrant]

[ See, Cater was a smart boy, despite the attitude he tends to present to the world. The loophole was obvious to him, clear as day. He'd caught Riddle between--

Well, himself and himself.

There's a little huff that Riddle sighs out, bringing his arms up to rest them over the Cater in front of and under him's shoulders, wrapping them loosely around. ]

Fine; I concede.

I didn't specify that it had to be just one of you.... and this is warm.

[ His voice falls a little quieter, at the admittance he makes, his pout gone and vanished, as if it had never been there in the first place.

Did-- did the two have to press so close to him, though?! The arms around his waist, the hands on his sides...???? Surely the Cater with his chin on his chest can feel the beating of his heart pick up, no? ]

[selfie_centered]

[led into sense of victory by the weight of Riddle's arms on his shoulder, Cater falls into a dopey grin— both of him. even he can't believe he's gotten away with so much.

Riddle is so soft in his arms, but Cater knows it has to end sometime (right?) so he aims for one last bit of mischief.]

Yay~ Another win for Cay-cay!

Do I get a reward?

[both Caters smirk a little, the one at Riddle's back leaning his temple against Riddle's. the Cater in front of Riddle bounces his brows.

he knows how this plays out, probably. Riddle scolds him, shoves him away, they laugh and get to bed. and that's fine! that's a reward in itself...

[crimsontyrant]

[ Cater's expectations have been wrong almost each and every time today. Maybe it's the way they're acting together, or the way the Caters are pressed against him, but the only 'reward' that Riddle can think of...

He isn't actually adverse to offering.

He knows what game Cater is playing at, with that stupid little facial expression. He shouldn't give into it.

And yet. ]

It would only be fair.

[ Here, he'll help. One hand is brought up, finger pressed under the Cater in front's chin, to lift his head a little. To bring their faces closer together.

And, then? He'll press a careful kiss against his lips.
Like, you know. A friend does. ]

[selfie_centered]

[if it had been a tactic to get the better of Cater, it really would have worked. as it is it still works.

the touch of Riddle's finger under Cater's chin stills him, and the kiss— well, maybe it's because he's been startled or maybe it's the shift of focus or maybe he just can't watch himself get kissed— but the Cater behind Riddle disappears into a fit of sparkles and cards.

and then Cater is free to let his fingers curl in the sides of Riddle's shirt, to relax against their kiss like some kind of sucker. he is a sucker, one who'd be totally vulnerable if not for the fact Riddle has no ill intent.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ If Riddle were someone who tended to have ill intent, this would be different. He'd use this to his advantage, use Cater's vulnerability against him. Instead...

This was something Riddle wanted to do, something that kept pushing at his mind. He missed their kiss, the taste of the other boy.

... Which is a totally normal thing to think about a friend.

Riddle shifts, moving his leg so he can fully properly straddle Cater's lap, using his hold on him as leverage to do so. Simply because it's more comfortable. Yeah. Totally. Ignore how he tilts his head to press further into the kiss, how he shuffles closer and tries to press his whole front up against Cater's.

This is fine. ]

[selfie_centered]

[ it's happening again. why is it happening again? how is it happening again? but Cater isn't strong enough to keep things simple, to not fall into the comforting lead Riddle gives. it is fairly more comfortable like this. Cater can wrap his arms around Riddle himself, can lean a little more into their kiss, palms against Riddle's back.

if Riddle's at all worried about any idication Cater doesn't want this, he won't find it; instead Cater responds like bringing Riddle in closer is a reflex he can't deny.

it wasn't exactly a stated answer to his question of what Riddle wants... but it is an answer. one Cater can give into easily. it's easier to tell the part of him that wants to book it to shut up when the reward is so high.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Had Cater considered that he's somewhat addicting?? The feel of his lips, the touch of his hands, everything about him was so irresistible to Riddle, in a way he can't describe, can't understand himself.

One of his own hands moves to tangle in Cater's hair all over again. Deja vu, anyone? Either way-- his opposite hand presses in against Cater's upper back, as if they could get even closer somehow.

He does however break the kiss before they get too focused on it, to catch his breath, to focus himself. ]

How is that for a reward...?

[selfie_centered]

[Cater can barely consider anything. there's so little thought in his head when he pulls away from Riddle to look at him, eyes half-lidded, chasing the taste of Riddle's kiss with an absent-minded lick of his own lips.

Riddle... Riddle holds Cater like he wants him close. that could get addicting. but through the haze, as his thoughts catch up to him, Cater minds;]

It's, uh.

Supes rewarding, actually.

[was he supposed to be getting the better of Riddle here? he's forgotten.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Riddle does look a little smug, as if he felt like he was winning their little game. Because he was; he'd caught Cater off guard, distracted him.

Only now is he realizing he can use that to his advantage. With their differing size, he's at a disadvantage if Cater used that against him, so...

A sneaky little smile, and he releases Cater's hair, instead moving both hands back to his shoulders. ]

Good, because you're going to lose round two.

[ Hope Cater's ready to be pushed. ]

[selfie_centered]

—Huh?

[Cater only manages to get out a stupid noise before he's shoved down, just the way Riddle expects.]

Whoa, hey, what was that about cheating?!

[he laughs as he falls back, hands reaching to grasp Riddle's arms—

and then suddenly he's just a mess of ginger hair against a pillow, staring up at Riddle with wide eyes.

this is... this is not a bad view. it's bad, probably, bad for him, bad for their pretense at propriety— but oh, not bad to look at at all.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Riddle's hands are on Cater's shoulders still, having shoved him down onto his back, his legs still on either side of him as he continues to straddle him.

There. He's won, hasn't he? Now all he needs to do is get Cater to admit he'd lost this round. ]

How is that cheating?

[ Riddle asks, a dumb smile on his face as he looks down at Cater.

And look he does. Cater's hair a mess against the pillow, his eyes all wide - oh, it was such a delicious view for him too. ]

Who's trapped now, hmmm?

[ Big words for such a small person, but hey. Let him gloat. ]

[selfie_centered]

[ it really is nice.is trapped, isn't he? but this one is a trap of his own design, made up of the little slip-ups of honesty. those want-filled eyes calm down just a little when they flick back up to Riddle's. ]

Woopsie.

[that's right. the queen always does outrank the king, huh? not that Cater knows too terribly much about chess, but... ah, he's not so preoccupied with winning, anymore, anyway.]

Looks like you got me.

[is this right where you want him, Riddle?]

[crimsontyrant]

[ The positioning, the quiet moment between the two of them. His eyes lock with Cater's fingers curling slightly against his shoulders, against the fabric of his sweater.

While thinking about what to say, how to reply, he finds that he's once again at a loss for words. Had the mood again shifted, and he hadn't noticed?

Or was his mind playing tricks on him?

He moves, leaning down, until their faces are oh so close again. ]

Do I get a reward, too?

[ His tone is quiet, careful. As if trying to stay collected. ]

[selfie_centered]

That is what happens when someone wins, huh?

[Cater lifts his arms to drape around Riddle's shoulders as Riddle had done to him before, tilting his head to the side almost imploringly.

it's a lot, to be in a situation like this with Riddle in particular. flirting and playing with other boys isn't so risky— not just because there aren't feelings at play. but he just can't imagine Riddle being truly ready for that, isn't sure it isn't Riddle trying to play by Cater's rules.

Riddle is so very close. and it was his own idea earlier, but...

Mr. No-Straight-Answers and his hypocritical self asks a rather straightforward question.]

What kind of reward do you want?

[crimsontyrant]

[ What... kind of reward did he want?

He can feel his face burning, getting a deeper flush by the minute. His lips part, as if to respond.

The words don't come out. They can't. He can't say them. What he wants, what he really truly wants, is out of the question. Can Cater feel the heat radiating off of his face? The way his fingers grasp a little harder onto his shirt?

He can't suggest that.
Even suggesting a kiss would be too far, too much for him to say out loud.

So instead? He tries to focus, tries to come up with any words, at all. ]

A reward of... a similar kind.

[ Is the answer he settles on. And... ]

I want to feel like I did that night. Just the two of us. Where I couldn't think even if I wanted to.

[selfie_centered]

[what is
happening?

things really had changed, hadn't they? those words are as terrifying as they are alluring, but there's something else, too. Cater can tell how tough this is for Riddle. it must be.... so difficult, to reach out for affection or care. Riddle is becoming a man just the same way most of them are. Cater knows how to get his needs met, whether it has to be through trickery or settling. Riddle doesn't have opportunities like that.

and Riddle trusts him. Cater. him. it can't be wrong to want to just help the little guy out, right? nothing shameful about that.

there's no breaking the rules when both parties involved are pleased to be what they're doing. and seven, does Cater know how blissful it is not to think. who could blame Riddle for wanting to be stupid again?

Cater gently tugs Riddle closer, leaning in to murmur before he kisses him;]

If that's what you want, then...

Yes, your majesty.

[crimsontyrant]

[ There was no being careful about this. No taking a step back and thinking about the consequences. All there was were the impulses, the desires, the need to feel cared for. To be adored and loved, even if it was all just pretend.

Pretending, with someone so dear to him, who he doesn't even know how to define the relationship they had.

Does it matter?

Riddle, atop of Cater, is easy to pull closer, his forearms settling against Cater's form as he's pulled closer.

He returns the kiss, with a nervousness that's telling: he doesn't know if this is okay, or if he should stop. Cater would have surely said something if he didn't want this, but what is the proper order for these things? Should they go out for tea, have a meal together, walk in the park? There's no time to think.

Especially when he said he doesn't want to think right this second.

Finally, he kisses back with more energy, a little more passion than the last. Getting the hang of the way he enjoyed moving his own lips, the way he liked to tilt his head just right. All of it was beginning to come to him, intuitively. ]

listen i need to make mroe icons eventually but for now

[selfie_centered]

[the lucky thing about kissing is that generally, what feels uncomfortable is easy to move away from. there's only so much Riddle can do wrong, when the right spirit is behind it. effort counts for a lot when it's someone you want to kiss.

it's Cater's turn to get his hand into some fire-red locks of hair, his other hand finding purchase in the fabric on the back of Riddle's shirt. he doesn't want to think either, and so he doesn't, instead letting himself sigh into their kiss as though it's a relief, like there's some weight he's been holding on to. hungry as he is for affection, for validation, he can't help it, no matter how much he reasons that it's all to sate Riddle's starvation instead.

it's such a shame that people have to breathe, really, because Cater doesn't want to pull away.]