'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

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[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?]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Is it just him, or is time going really slow? The touch of Cater's thumb against his cheek, the warmth of his hand, so close against his face. Riddle can't tear his eyes away, can't think of what to say despite having so many words that he could say.

Does Cater have a question? Or, is he trying to get his attention?

His fingers curl against his back, too, as if grabbing onto him more would answer the question for the both of them. ]

...
Yeah...?

[ Hey, what? it can't be what Riddle's thinking, can it? ]

[selfie_centered]

[What? What does he want? Why does it feel like the words are stuck in his throat? It's probably the last remaining sense he has begging him not to do what he's doing. What is he thinking?]

N-no, I was just, wondering.

[sink or swim, Cater Diamond. commit! just go one way or the other!

he takes a breath, and when he speaks again it's in this gentle, quiet, almost hesitant tone.]

Have you ever, like, kissed anyone, before?

[not exactly committing but close enough]

[crimsontyrant]

[ They're both tired. That's the only explanation for loss of inhibitions that he can clock.

Anyways, he's... being asked a question.
One that makes his face flush further, his breath catch in the back of his throat. What is he supposed to even say to that??

The truth, right? ]

No, I have not. Never even once.

[ Riddle leans in ever so slightly, closer to Cater, his voice so quiet as he continues on, prodding him with his next question. ]

... and why were you wondering about that?

[ He's far from stupid. He's caught you, Cater, right where you've dug your own grave. Now all that's left is for Cater to either fall into it, or own up to his commitment. ]

[selfie_centered]

[oh he's closer. that's not a no.

maybe he really is dreaming? wasn't Riddle supposed to reject him somewhere along the line? call him out for being inappropriate? that's what he'd think this is, but Riddle is—

closer.

there's no denying Riddle some kind of answer once he's asked something, is there?]

Well.

You were asking about sleepovers, right?

[Cater's pretty sure he's still breathing, but it doesn't feel like he can get a good breath. and yet he clings desperately to his little act, to keeping it together, because he can keep his cool even with his queen's hand on his back.

he can only manage to talk like they're sharing a secret. like someone in the next room could maybe hear them.]

Totally a regular sleep over activity, y'know.

Getting your first kiss.

[it might not be Cater's, but fuck it. it'd be the first time he'd kissed Riddle.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Was... that really a sleepover activity?

He's sure there was some trope for that in a book he'd read recently. In the moment, he can't recall.

Besides, this is all... just a game, right? Something Cater's doing to poke fun, to play around with no repercussions? His flirting had never been that serious, never been true.

... right?

The topic of kissing has him unable to think straight. Was that really okay? Could they go that far, and still keep it a secret between the two of them? Was it even appropriate, between a Housewarden and a student?

What were the rules to this?
What about the rules to his heart? Did this break those, too?

Riddle is clearly having a difficulty computing.

He leans in further, his eyes falling half closed as he tilts his head up, until they're a mere few inches apart. One tilt of Cater's head and their lips would surely catch each other's. ]

Stop beating around it. Just kiss me already.

[ The demand is breathed out, quiet. Intimately so, sharing that secret between them. ]

[selfie_centered]

[oh.

all at once, Cater's doubt is replaced by Riddle's demand. who is he not to follow the queen's command? isn't he a loyal card soldier? surely that'll be the reasoning, once Cater has time to think. for now, he just does as Riddle tells him to.

the distance between them is barely any at all, with Riddle reaching out to Cater like this. Riddle's lips are warm pressed against his own— were the two of them supposed to be cold? Cater can barely remember what cold feels like. he slips his hand to the back of Riddle's neck, eyes fluttering shut, doing his best not to be too greedy. to make it perfect. doesn't the housewarden deserve his best, after all? dream or not, sleep-delirious or not, it's still Riddle.

Riddle's hair is soft, and his kiss is sweet, and he is so compact and cute in Cater's arms. wonderful things to learn, it turns out.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ It's so tender, so soft. All at once, he's overwhelmed by every feeling. His dutiful card soldier is giving him exactly what he asked for, without questioning the order one bit.

His hand grasps harder at the front of Cater's shirt, his eyes closing all the way as he does his best to kiss him back. It's new, something he would have to learn carefully. Each second is hesitant, but he gains a little more confidence with every second that passes, exploring one step further at a time.

It is perfect. Something out of a book, making his stomach do turns with the nerves he felt. Said nerves slowly ebb and wash away, as he moved his hand around Cater's waist, lifting it up to cup his face in his smaller palm.

He doesn't want it to end. Even when he needs to break it off for air, he doesn't want to.

Panting quietly when he does, Riddle doesn't yet open his eyes, as if doing so would mean they were caught enjoying this little moment.

It doesn't help that he wants more, does it? ]

... Cater...

[ He doesn't know what he's trying to say. ]

[selfie_centered]

[at least the feeling is mutual. breaking away is torture. outside of this moment, there are questions. there are doubts. Cater's eyes open just a touch, and there is his housewarden, just as sweet as before. has he really ever noticed how Riddle smells of roses? is Cater's mouth supposed to taste like that after kissing someone from the Queendom of Roses?

Cater really isn't a fan of sweet. certainly, he's been overfilled. but there is nothing cloying about the experience of Riddle, right here, right now.

he hears his name out of Riddle's mouth and somehow he knows the right answer. maybe it's because his greed is putting him through the same motions. another breath and Cater chases Riddle again. first, second, what's the difference? maybe it's something you don't get the first time. maybe they need a remedial lesson.

so Cater kisses his housewarden again, ignoring the complications. it's a secret, after all.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Almost like Cater could read his mind, he knew exactly what Riddle needed. Another kiss, chased down by Cater himself, a move that showed it was a mutual want, a mutual need, even with Riddle's previous demand.

His body shifts, a knee pressing closer to Cater, while he tilts his head just right, deepening their kiss.

Was he supposed to think, right now? Maybe not. What would this mean for them? He's not sure.

There's an impossible sweet, a yearning that he wonders if Cater can feel, can witness in their kiss.

Maybe, just maybe, Riddle's just as greedy as Cater. The hand grasping his shirt tries to tug him closer, tries to demand more than just that kiss. He can't vocalize what he wants, even if his lips weren't occupied, but it's simple: he wants Cater. His touch, his kiss, anything that he can get.

And, damn, does he need to cool it before they take this too far. ]

[selfie_centered]

[it has to be just that Cater wants to read want in Riddle's intent. it can't really be there, right? but Cater's feeling it, and he wants it, too. wants to be wanted. wants Riddle, specifically, to want him.

It's annoying to him that his other arm isn't much use like this, but he pulls it back under him a bit so that he can settle a bit more over Riddle, press his rose-red-haired underclassman back a little. answers Riddle's want with want of his own. he matches the movement of Riddle's knee, shifting forward until they're nearly flush. it's a small bed. they have to be closer.

he doesn't want to think. if he thinks, he'll have to admit there's nothing noble about his intent to give in to Riddle's desire. so he simply refuses, pressing another, and another kiss to Riddle's mouth, between breaths. just a little more of this should be okay. Cater knows, he's so, so sure, when to stop. there's no way he's in over his head.

first makeouts can be a sleepover activity, too, maybe.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ Was this what Cater wanted? Or was it something he was doing because Riddle wanted it? Because he asked for it, pleaded for it with that little murmur of his name?

It's hard to deny that Cater must want this too, when he's adjusting them. Pressing him back, matching his movements, pulling their bodies so flush together. The heat is impossible to mask, now, with just how close their bodies are.

Each kiss is returned in kind, an almost sweet desperation oozing from Riddle as he all but demands more, chasing Cater's lips every time they'd part for a breath, every time they'd shift.

Maybe, it would be fine... if he...
Riddle's hands both move, arms wrapping loosely over Cater's shoulders. One hand presses to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. The other drops to between his shoulder blades, urging him closer, even if they really couldn't get much closer than they already are.

Should he part his lips? Turn slightly to fall into the bed further on his back, to give Cater more space to get settled atop him? Too many choices-- all of which he takes in stride, going with his impulses. That's how he needed to learn, on occasion, after all. ]

[selfie_centered]

[it's dangerous, really, how much Cater wants this. Riddle won't give him any sign to back off, and Cater is eager to latch on to every ounce of reciprocation and approval. he can't just back off once Riddle's wrapped him up. Cater revels in the command, sinking into it, his own lips parting. With the hand he'd had on Riddle's cheek before he drags a greedy, curious palm down Riddle's neck, his collarbone—

his own sweater, soft plush, around Riddle. reminding him that Riddle is just as wrapped up right now in Cater as Cater is in him. the shifting of his leg becomes a bit more insistent, angling for just the right place, wanting to feel Riddle against this growing ache of his. Riddle might not be experienced but eagerness and openness counts for a lot, and it's earned him a Cater that is just as desperate to please as he is to gain.

gentle, curious, he deepens that kiss further. if he had any mind to defend himself he'd surely say he's still certain Riddle will stop him when he wants to— but really, he's not thinking much at all, coasting instead on the feeling.]

[crimsontyrant]

[ It's damn near intoxicating. Cater's lips on his, the short breaths they take in to try and keep their lungs from burning. The hand dragging down his neck, his collarbone, is enough to elicit a soft noise from the younger boy, body near squirming in reaction, wanting more and more and more. He can't keep up, dizzy with his breathless state.

That doesn't stop him. His body responds in kind, legs shifting to spread slightly, enough to let their bodies press further. He isn't even thinking about the ache of arousal he'd want to hide, not when they're tangled so thoroughly together.

No, all he's thinking about is the feeling that's rushing through him, the freedom he feels being this close, this intense with someone else. He doesn't know what he wants, doesn't know when he should stop, but that kiss is easily deepened, another soft noise made against Cater's lips.

He needs to... stop. To pull back and be smart about this, avoid getting way too into it... but it's too late, isn't it? He's lost in the moment, fingers grasping against Cater's hair, against the back of his shirt, demanding and bossy. ]