'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

CODE

Comments

we do, but they don't--

[crimsontyrant]

[ Shared rooms. That, frankly, sealed the deal on this whole trip being a nuisance more than a good learning experience. The freshmen were excited, for a change of pace and a change of roommates, but for Riddle, the other housewardens, and all of the third years? This was more than frustrating.

Whatever. All they had to do was get through one or two nights in a room.
The last room in the Inn.
The smallest room in the Inn, the most intimate one, to Riddle's standards. The lace, ribbons, and white tone to almost everything was sickening. If he were a bit more inclined to make jokes, he might mention that this room could use some red paint to decorate the white roses.

He isn't at all inclined to do that.

Instead, he scowls. ]

It looks like somewhere they would shove the happy-go-lucky newlyweds to keep in the spirit of their celebration.

[ He's already in a bad mood, sorry Cater. It'd been a long day, especially for the Housewardens. Riddle shuffles in, ignoring the pictures Cater is taking in favor of dropping his small bag by the bed. ]

they can suffer for our amusement

[selfie_centered]

[Ah, RIP. Cater's sure Riddle's looking away when his shoulders fall. Alright, alright. Time to do some damage control and keep things cute with a little Cay-Cay magic.

The phone goes in the pocket, and Cater swings back over to place his bag next to Riddle's.]

NGL, I'd really hope we'd end up somewhere way more cammable if we got married.

[Body language is always important in the art of manipulation, and so Cater tries to model for Riddle in the cool-and-chill department. A casual lean, a gentle elbow to Riddle's— it's total bro time. Everything's fine.]

C'mon, it's a bonding opportunity!

Riddle and Cay-Cay, kickin' it in the world's gaudiest hotel room.

absolutely...................

[crimsontyrant]

[ Ugh. Cater's acting like this is all fine and dandy, when in fact, everything is a mess. He's tired, exhausted, ready to flop into bed and take a long-needed rest, but... ]

We would--

[ Ah. He's close. Riddle narrows his eyes briefly, before breathing out a sigh and turning his head up to look Cater in the face. ]

A bonding opportunity... Fine. But rest assured, we will not speak about the state of our room to anyone else.

... You better not be planning to keep me up all night.

[selfie_centered]

[Jeez. Riddle sure can level an intense stare. For someone unquestionably shorter than Cater, Riddle's presence may as well be ten feet tall...]

No way!

I'll be on my best, most discretion-keeping behavior, housewarden~

Pinky promise.

[And he really does hold out his pinky— not that he's expecting Riddle to take him up on it. He's pretty sure this level of teasing is still well within reasonable bounds.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ There has only been one instance of a 'pinky promise' in this little Rose's life. He continues to stare for a moment, at the outstretched pinky and at Cater, before... ]

How... childish.

[ Lifting his hand, his pinky curls to grasp onto Cater's. ]

There. It's sealed now.

[ How in the world is this something that worked. Why did it work. Is the world ending??? ]

[selfie_centered]

[wait, that... did work? Cater hadn't planned for that. There's a second where he stares at Riddle's pinky curled around his, preoccupied with how cute his housewarden's hand is. Like he's never noticed (but oh, he's noticed). He has to swallow down the strange feeling in his chest, but he powers through, putting on a cutesy smile.]

Yay~♡

Now I really do have to behave.

[nailed the landing.

oh man. he can not be having thoughts like this before he's about to lay in bed with the guy, though! it's not like he wasn't aware his! HOUSEWARDEN! (he'll remind himself!) is adorable, but...

anyway Cater just so very casually pulls away to start looking for his bag again. The bag he just put down next to Riddle's.]

So, uh, you a closer-to-the-door kinda guy or a closer-to-the-wall type? When you're sleeping, I mean.

[crimsontyrant]

[ This would be just fine. That's what Riddle is telling himself, as the two of them stand there like that, pinkies locked for probably a minute too long. Cater's hand was bigger than his own, and-

And Riddle can't help but think about how it might feel to hold all of his hand.

Ugh. Come on, focus.....!

As they retract, Riddle shifts to where both of their bags are sat, lifting his own up onto the bed to begin pulling out his sleepwear. Might as well get changed before it gets too late in the evening, right? ]

The door.

[ A simple answer. He spares a glance towards Cater- ]

Will that be fine? I can be flexible, too, if necessary.

[ He wants to make sure this is comfortable for Cater as well, that he can sleep well despite their arrangements. It wouldn't do either of them any good to miss sleep, even if this may be a little more on the awkward side. ]

[selfie_centered]

[It's fine. It's still totally fine, and Cater definitely doesn't keep thinking about it. It's like his finger's buzzing or something...]

Oh, yeah, it's totes cool.

[It shouldn't be a problem. He shouldn't need to get up in the middle of the night for anything, anyway. A half-turn and Cater seems to remember where he'd put his damn bag down, and seeks to pull out his sleepwear, too, starting with the big ol cozy sweater he dunks his fingers into immediately. The softness of it is grounding enough.]

I get kinda cold sometimes, but everything should be good.

LMK if I'm stretching out too much or something though.

[Juuuust because Riddle's smaller does not mean he needs to be crowded off the bed.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ As an only child, Riddle has never, actually, shared a bed with anyone in years upon years. The only time he can even recall is a time when he was terribly ill and his mother looked after him in her bed. But that, that was different. This...

Riddle pulls out a simple set of pants - it's clearly a cotton blend of some kind, meant to match a shirt of some sort, a light red tone. ]

I do as well.

[ It would be inappropriate to suggest they could cuddle up, wouldn't it? Besides, maybe it's obvious, with the size of the bed, that it might be necessary. ]

... I thought I'd packed the matching shirt.

[ There's a frustrated furrow to his brow, as he ruffles through his bag, trying to find anything else. Literally, anything he could wear to bed. He comes up on a black tee-- which, is definitely not his first choice for anything. So much for staying warm, that button up would have been far preferred. ]

[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. ]