'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]

[Really, Cater hasn't shared a bed much with anyone but his sisters— and that was always a less comfortable experience, usually a tangle of exhausted baby gingers. This isn't a sleepover with the Diamond Sisters, though!

But Cater notices— because he always notices, that something isn't right with Riddle.

It's just a moment before that sweater is plomfed over Riddle's head, and Cater gets back to pulling the rest of his things out. All told, they're pretty warm pajamas all on their own, anyway, and with the proximity...]

Ta-daaah~ Cay-cay came prepared.

I'm not actually cold yet myself, so.

[He is gonna go ahead and go kick off his shoes near the door before he can dwell too long on any of this.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ It smells like Cater.
That's the first thing that Riddle recognizes, when that sweater is dropped unceremoniously on him.

Do his cheeks have a light flush to them when he pulls that sweater down so he can see again? Maybe. Is it noticeable? No, hopefully not, with Cater kicking off his own shoes. Riddle can't say anything about this, lest he risk stammering.

Instead. He hums an approving hum, sets the sweater down with his other chosen clothes, and begins to work at getting his own shoes off. They're set neatly by the bedside table, as if he was sure where they belonged.

Then, it's a matter of getting out of his uniform and swapping it for pajamas. Easy enough to start on, unbuttoning his uniform jacket to begin. ]

... You mentioned we'd pick a better place. If you had plans for marriage, where would you want to get married?

[ Nothing more than a question to pass the time, while they get changed, to avoid the awkwardness of changing in front of each other.

It's fine. They're both boys and... and there's nothing weird about this. ]

[selfie_centered]

[That really is a normal question to ask, so why does it make Cater's heart jump into his throat? Maybe it's just the context it's under— well, it was his own dumb joke's fault— but... Cater finds that thinking about the question more doesn't make it any easier to answer.

Where...? He'd never thought about it.

Preoccupying himself with undoing his tie and belt, he throws spaghetti against the wall to see if it sticks.]

Hmm... Well, it'd have to be some place cammable, right?

But then again, if the person I'm getting hitched to doesn't like it, that kind of blows the whole vibe.

I'd probably just go wherever they wanna go. Y'know, as long as the lighting's good.

[Yeah, actually. Changing is a lot easier when they're just talking.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Next comes the tie, his belt, you know. The works. He continues working at it, listening to Cater's answer.

His own comes as he's slipping out of his uniform pants, folding them neatly as he speaks, ]

... Hm. For me, I would want the place to be somewhere both I and the person I'm with want it to be.

For example, a location that means a lot to the both of us. Or, somewhere we've always admired but never went.

[ Now that those are folded, he takes his time to do the same with his tie, his uniform jacket, then his vest, and finally, begins to undo the buttons on his shirt. ]

Would you really want to go along with what they wanted that easily? It doesn't sound very pleasant to not pick together. Then again... Mother most likely has a place picked out for me already.

[ hm. not a great thought. but a truthful one. ]

[selfie_centered]

[Cater's unsurprised at such a sweet answer from Riddle— it makes sense. It's probably as honest as it is picturesque. Cater shrugs off his jacket, starts unbuttoning his shirt—

pauses at the question, starting to look over his shoulder, but stopping himself as he does. It's a question that at first makes a lot of uncomfortable little feelings start to bubble up— but what imposes itself over that is the conclusion.

Cater does turn, slightly, at the hip, to glance over his shoulder at Riddle.]

...I mean— are you okay with that?

She's your mom, but it'd be your wedding, dude.

[crimsontyrant]

[ The uncomfortable reality, his situation put into perspective in away that was almost uncomfortable. Cater saw right to the point, down to the bones of it. He's halfway through unbuttoning his shirt when Cater glances to him. Riddle lifts his head to peek towards Cater.

There's a moment of quiet, before his head falls back, gaze back on his buttons, and he slips out of his shirt.

Even with all this time, the improvements he's made, there's no changing reality. ]

I have to be.

[ It's a simple answer - with a tone that says he's done talking about this. He hadn't meant to do anything more than talk aimlessly, after all.

Riddle folds his shirt, then pulls on the tee, the pants, and the offered sweater from before, tugging it around himself as if to ease away the feelings they'd inadvertently dug up.

And, hey, now that he's changed he can set his uniform aside and sit down on the edge of the bed. ]

[selfie_centered]

[Riddle's shoulders are so straight despite how small he is. Always carried high, always rigid. Even now... would Riddle ever be able to relax? When he looks over his shoulder, is it even Cater he sees standing behind him?

He has to force himself to look back to his own task, to not watch Riddle undress— seriously, what is he even doing— to step out of his pants and into his pajamas. All the while he just can't shake that sickening feeling that he has very much said the wrong thing.

But when he's all changed as well and turns to look at Riddle, there he is, all wrapped up in Cater's sweater. a second passes while Cater kind of loosely folds his pants over his arm once— twice— finally looks away to sort out why the pants leg keeps flopping over.

Alright, Diamond. Time to actually use those braincells and dispel the quiet.]

So... uh...

[Really just scoring high on the competence list tonight. Cater takes a breath, folding up his shirt as well.]

Man, even the way you fold your uniform's neater than mine...

[At least it's kind of a funny thing to be worse than your underclassman at...]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Maybe, one day, there would come a time where Riddle wasn't always looking over his shoulder. Wasn't always needing to be perfect in every way, to practice his words and choose then carefully each time he decided to open his mouth.

There is a balance, one that Riddle was still learning. Walking a tightrope, above a pit. Trying to avoid falling down into that same headspace that brought him to his lowest of lows, while also trying to learn his own path, to follow that little rope across to what could be considered the rest of his life.

For now, there's this. This quiet moment, where they're meant to rest, to prepare for the next day.

Watching Cater struggle was... kind of amusing. More than that, it was quite amusing. Riddle has to hold back a tiny laugh, bringing his hand up to cover it up, before reaching out and grabbing Cater's uniform pants, which were. Folded for sure. But-- ]

Let me show you. It will be easier if you put them down on the bed and follow a pattern.

[ He stands back up, moving to set the pants down on the bed where he had been sitting. ]

Bring your hands here, near mine.

[selfie_centered]

[Cater could protest— could say he's not so incompetent, just a bit distracted. but skipping a Riddle lesson is actually not on his list right now. more than anything, it means that little slip up from before wasn't too much. that Riddle's still feeling himself.

being the court jester doesn't suck so bad when your queen has a sweet laugh. seven, his hands look so small in Cater's already-oversized sleeves. next to his own hands, which he puts right into place.]

Right, right, I'm with ya.

[totally following along, definitely not staring at Riddle's hands or the way his hair falls into his face.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Riddle knows that Cater isn't incompetent, but if he's messing up on something so simple? Surely, he needs a refresher. Besides... it was partially an excuse.

A distraction, from their momentary fumble. Riddle carefully brings his hands up to rest them over Cater's directly, so that he could lead him along exactly with how he wanted to teach him.

It's a quick process, one that probably could have gone without the touch, without this demonstration.

Riddle lifts his eyes back up to glance at Cater when they finish. ]

See? It's quicker this way.

[ Oh. He. They're. Close. Hm. This is.... a problem? No, not really. It's more. Embarrassing. His heart picks up in his chest, pounding away with no mercy. Okay, just. Act casual.

Maybe start with not staring up at him like this???? ]

[selfie_centered]

[It would probably help if Cater wasn't also staring down at Riddle. Is this some kind of moment? What was Cater even doing, practically hypnotized by Riddle's hand on him like that. Like maybe he's starting to read something—

but no, that would be stupid, getting ahead of himself. A blink, and Cater's mind catches up, and he winks at Riddle.

Just gotta recover.]

Look at that, it is neat.

What would I do without ya, housewarden~?

[crimsontyrant]

[ Please ignore him being starstruck for just a second, staring up at Cater as if he'd almost never seen him before. Is there more, to that look they share? More, to the moment-?

No, surely not. Riddle's cheeks are still flushed when he pulls his hands back, drops his gaze. He's embarrassed that he'd even thought for a second that things were more than just... this.

Why is his mind being so foolish? So unfocused.

He manages to come back to his senses, nodding curtly and shifting slightly, plopping himself back down on the bed. ]

Don't be silly. You're plenty capable of figuring something this simple out.

[ It's not like he NEEDS to help you, Cater. He moves, shifting to get back from him, to put a little distance between them again before they're getting into bed together. ]

Are you ready to get in bed? I'm exhausted, myself... but I may read for a little while before actually sleeping.

[selfie_centered]

[Being Mr. EQ usually has its perks, but right now it feels like a vice. There's no way, no way, no way that just happened the way it felt like in his head. There's no way Riddle was just looking at him like that, so close to just being wrapped up in his arms...

Jeez. No, if he were to slip up and do something like that, Riddle would— no, it'd be worse than off with Cater's head, wouldn't it? Out with his trust! Out with Riddle depending on senpai! Cater shouldn't be so preoccupied with the shape of his underclassman's lips.

too bad it's still disappointing when Riddle moves away. Cater fusses with his uniform, puts the folded clothes over his bag.]

Mmyeah? Sounds good to me.

I'll probably scroll the 'cam until I fall asleep, you know how it is.

[At least it would be a distraction... Anyway, he figures he should get over there first, since he's on the far side— and he clambers up and over as close to the wall as he can. It's not the most generous amount of space left, but Cater still beckons Riddle with a hand, playful as usual.

Sure, this is gonna be a little weird, but drawing it out won't change anything. He'd rather just jump in the pool.]

Sleepover time~

[crimsontyrant]

[ What foolish thoughts were flitting through his mind. On what planet would Cater have similar thoughts, similar feelings? Cater's a flirt, but it's not all that genuine, is it? It's just who he is. Or what he acts like.

Either way, Riddle waits patiently, getting his book out of his bag and, once Cater's in the bed, he carefully climbs in beside him, that playfulness a little flustering after the perceived moment they'd just had.

Whatever! It's fine! They're fine, just two... friends. Sharing a bed. This is nothing.

Except the fact that there's no room to be separate. Riddle's shoulder is already pressing in against Cater.

Turning, he lays on his side, looking at Cater directly, letting the book rest against his side as he watches Cater for a moment, clearly thinking of something to say, something to do, despite saying he was going to read before bed. ]

Have you ever been to a real sleepover, Cater? Are they all like this?

[selfie_centered]

[That's Cater— ever insincere, always playing. It's never a real flirt, unless... (unless?)

But no, he has to be good, especially as Riddle settles in beside him. Cater turns onto his side too, laying so he can keep looking Riddle in the face.]

Mmm.. there's usually more snacks. And like a ton less lace.

[He starts to smile, genuinely amused by their stupid little situation for a moment. They are in a bed that may as well be for a pair of porcelain dolls.]

Generally, like, waaay fewer vibes of "staying over with grandma".

[crimsontyrant]

[ It was such a stupid situation, wasn't it? The lace, the bows, the ribbons, the little roses - everything felt so silly. Riddle doesn't smile, though amusement does dance lightly in his eyes, as Cater smiles that little smile. ]

Here I was thinking it held a sort of 'haunted' feeling. If we didn't have actual ghosts at the College, I'd wonder if we'd encounter one here, haunting this very room.

[ The tiniest curve of his lips, a little blossom of a smile again. ]

The white is almost too white, like something that we wouldn't be allowed to sit on, let alone sleep on.

[ With a small shift, he tugs Cater's sweater better around himself, pulling part of it over the lower half of his face, as if to partially hide behind it. It's cozy, warm, just the right amount of squish in the fabric...

For the first time in a while, Riddle looks like he might actually be able to relax... a little. Just being here, laying on this gaudy bed, with him. ]

[selfie_centered]

[Maybe Riddle's right. The sheets are far to white for thoughts like Cater's. Somehow, it aches not to reach out and brush Riddle's hair from his face, as if he was ever allowed to before. But wrapped up in Cater's sweater doesn't Riddle look like someone who could be his?

Get a grip, Diamond. Being this close, just for a little while, should be enough.]

I dunno, when you put it like that it almost feels scandalous~

Could this be our Riddle's gateway to rule breaking~?

[As if Cater could conceive of Riddle embracing that kind of freedom... well, it's nice to dream. Maybe one day, someone will make him feel like he can. Like disaster won't chase him the moment something doesn't go right.]

[crimsontyrant]

Watch it, Cater.

[ The warning, tone scolding, yet quiet behind the fabric he was partially hiding behind. He adjusts to rest his cheek against his hand, his pout clear even behind the fabric. ]

I would never even dare think to say something with scandalous undertones like that. Keep your mind out of the gutter.

[ And, to even suggest he'd break the rules? Come on, Cater, you know better than that. At least Riddle is taking it in stride, allowing the teasing to wash over him rather than actually getting mad.

It's a little funny, isn't it, how Cater wonders if someone will make him feel free, when...
He's one of those people. That make him feel free, like he can be whoever he wants to be versus what he's meant to be. ]

[selfie_centered]

[Cater can't hold back his chuckling, more at his own expense than Riddle's. He grins wide, baring that charming little snaggletooth. Eyes crinkled with warmth, he regards Riddle so fondly when he answers;]

You're right.

What am I thinking?

[Not was, but am. He does know better. He just has to ignore the flight of his imagination.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Not was.
Am.
Was Cater thinking something else strange, then? Maybe Riddle will let is slide, given their circumstances. Maybe he'll ... do something a little stupid.

One of his hands releases his sweater, reaching out to carefully grasp onto one of Cater's hands. Pressing their palms together. ]

Are you cold? I wouldn't want you to have to feel cold after letting me borrow your sweater.

[ His voice is quiet, having dropped the volume by a good few levels, as if maybe. Maybe, if he keeps it quiet, they don't have to worry about what they say here. Maybe he doesn't have to worry about thinking so hard on his words.

He still will, of course. But.... still.]

[selfie_centered]

[For his stupidity, or perhaps for his boldness, Riddle earns a reward. Cater's bright green eyes all wide, lips parted just a little in his surprise. Is this.. happening? Is he reading this right?

Riddle is all quiet and sweet, his voice all low... if Cater were dreaming, he'd know what comes next. He's alive and he knows what's supposed to come next. But—]

Yeah,

[he finds himself murmuring, trying, just as hushed. What will happen if he says yes?]

I'm, uh. Kinda feelin' it.

[He swallows. At least if he's totally misreading this, he's not the one taking the next step. Not taking it too far. It's just... whatever Riddle wants to do, to solve this.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ It wouldn't be right to let a friend freeze, would it? And, and... how was he supposed to justify this? Was he even supposed to work to justify it, rather than going with what he wanted to do?

If he was more bold, he might make a whole other move completely.

He isn't bold, not with something like this.

Riddle's book is forgotten, in favor of the little shuffle closer he does. The way he tucks one arm over Cater's waist, his hand moving to press against his back. The opposite one tucks in between them, as Riddle's fingers grasp onto his shirt lightly. ]

Then... come close like this. We can share the warmth, right?

You already promised: no one has to know.

[selfie_centered]

[is this

is this allowed?! Cater feels the rush of blood up his neck, is certain at least his ears must be red. suddenly he's far from freezing at all, but there's nothing he wants to do to get away from this warmth. The hand on his back is everything.

maybe he is dreaming? maybe he hit the bed and fell right asleep. his fingers flex and unflex, hovering above Riddle's shoulder for a moment as Cater tries to decide where his hand should even go.

It's Riddle's voice assuring him no one has to know, that this kind of closeness is alright. So then— there's nothing wrong with it, right?

So Cater adjusts, shoving the arm closest to the bed under his pillow, the other resting on Riddle's shoulder as he does. There. That's comfortable enough for them to get close.

he looks at Riddle again, all adjusted, and instead of being satisfied with that hand on Riddle's shoulder, he does what he wanted to before. just to see. if Riddle doesn't want him to, well, he'll let him know.

he pushes those red bangs out of Riddle's face and smiles at him, trying to be that confident, reassuring senpai. lost, a little, in intimacy he shouldn't be taking advantage of.]

Sure we can.

It'll be our little secret.

[he's never claimed to be a good person.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Riddle could feel that warmth deep in his own face, his heart racing inside his chest. He can't comprehend what he'd just done, the step he'd taken. This isn't something friends do, is it? Not when they react like this, how Riddle is reacting.

He doesn't want to pull away. Doesn't want to move back from this moment.

It's easy. To get comfortable, to press himself close to Cater in a way that feels so much like he shouldn't, like he should stop here and there.

No one would know. Not their classmates, their friends, or his mother. This moment was theirs and theirs alone, including when Cater rests his hand on his shoulder, gets closer to him.

Riddle's fingers tangle a bit tighter against Cater's shirt, hand pressed up against his chest. His eyes were focused on Cater, to try and see his reaction, how he felt about this little move of his.

What he gets? That gentle touch, brushing the hair from his face. Can Cater feel the beating of his heart, now? The heat that radiates from his face?

His lips part slightly, as he tries to think of what to say, his eyes locked on Cater.

All he does is nod, offering the slightest smile in return. ]

[selfie_centered]

[Riddle's face is warm under Cater's thumb when Cater forgets to withdraw his hand. He shouldn't just sit there, staring, practically petting Riddle like this. But when he thinks to move, he doesn't do the responsible thing, doesn't pull away. Instead he moves a leg forward, crossing over one of Riddle's, just so that Riddle's ankle meets against Cater's calf.

he's breathing, sure, but all he can look at are Riddle's lips, even as his own mouth feels so dry.]

...hey, Riddle.

[hey, what? this is a bad idea, isn't it? come on, Diamond, you get into a room together once and you can't control yourself?]