splitmemory | riddle/cater shenanigans

Oh. Why was his heart racing again, at such a simple gesture? They'd held hands plenty the day before, fingers laced together just like this. The promise- that's what must be making him feel this way. It wasn't an easy one for Riddle to accept, of course, that had to be it. What else could it be...?

With a small sniff, he nods, his own hand finally accepting the hold, squeezing Cater's hand lightly.

Then, he brings the other boy's hand up, pressing a kiss to the back of it, as his cheeks burn with definitely only the fever. Yep. Nothing else. "Alright. Then: what are we doing today, Cater?" Riddle asks, using his other hand to bring his teacup up to his lips, tilting his chin up to avoid looking back down to him again.

No, he isn't letting go of his hand.

Riddle's face was so hot--he's clearly still wrestling with a fever. "You," he corrects, "are staying in bed until your fever breaks. Otherwise you're just going to make it worse. But I'll keep your company--we can find something to watch on my laptop when you're not too tired."

He smiles at Riddle, and for a second a somewhat mischievous look crosses his face. "If you can keep your hands off me."

This time, it's his turn to bring their joined hands to his lips.

That... yes, that was fair, he did suppose he needed to actually stay in bed, to rest and allow his body to take over to heal. He begrudgingly agreed, taking a small sip of the tea he'd been made, before Cater makes that comment.

Ugh! And the kiss to his hand!! How dare he act like this, when Riddle couldn't squirm and shove him too hard, lest he spill the warm food and drink he had right above his lap?

Instead, he pulls his hand back from Cater's, before shoving at the other boy with that very same hand, pressing his hand against Cater's shoulder to shove him back. Not roughly, not even enough to actually force him back that far. "What is that supposed to mean?!" Riddle exclaims, "If I recall, it was you who had your hands all over me." No, he wasn't going to mention the fact that he'd been touching himself thinking about Cater, nope. And don't you dare bring it up Cater, unless you want this boy to really attack you.

Cater giggles, completely unrepentant, but decides to give Riddle the "win" all the same. "You're right, you're right. I am the one that took advantage, aren't I?" He was just a mere soldier that had become overwhelmed by the sight of his Queen's desire.

"So you'll have to count on me to keep my hands to myself today, then."

Wink.

The pout doesn't vanish even as Riddle pulls his hand back, shoving more food into his face as if to avoid saying something, to force himself to think through his words first. Why would he need to do that, if his initial thought wasn't going to be completely and utterly embarrassing?

Only after he'd swallowed and repeated the process one more time does he finally respond.

"Just for a short while - until my fever breaks." Riddle decides, eyeing Cater. "After..."

"I think there's one more thing you can teach me about."

Riddle is so Riddle that although it's a natural continuation of the same conversation, Cater assumes that the subject is being changed to something else entirely. A smile still plays on his face even after he stops giggling, and he waits for Riddle to finish his breakfast before responding.

"Oh, yeah? Sure, Queen, anything you want. What were you thinking?"

Yeah, he's gonna have to say it out loud.

Oh, no, the subject wasn't being changed to anything else. No, Riddle was... not thinking straight, to say the least. His mind was so focused on what had happened the night before, the infuriating fact that he knew so much less than Cater about that-- and, that he knew so little about what Cater even knew regarding that.

Finished with his porridge, he takes a few long sips of his tea before he shifts the tray carefully from over his lap onto his nightstand, making sure not to crush anything there. Hm, a little precarious, but it'd work.

Turning to face Cater, sitting on his own knees, the Housewarden focuses his gaze down on Cater, as serious as could be.

"Would you be my tutor? Loathe as I am to admit it, you know more than me on this topic. Would you be willing to teach me all about..." Oh, Seven, how could he say it? How could he look Cater in the eyes and say it?!

Instead of focusing on the embarrassing factor of this, he reaches his hand out, carefully pressing a finger under Cater's chin to force his head up towards him.

"All about pleasure between two people-- about sex."

"What do you say? Do you accept?"

Edited 2024-05-04 07:30 (UTC)

Cater had to have misheard, right. At first, when Riddle's talking about tutoring, Cater's following along, though he's not exactly sure what subject he could possibly know more about than Riddle. Sure, he was a year ahead so he was learning some different, more advanced subjects--but if Riddle go this hands on that curriculum he wouldn't need any help. So, what was he...

Oh. Oh.

Looking up at the other boy, confusion turns to surprise on his face as his eyes widen. And then, Seven, his face starts to flush. The idea of being someone's...someone's sex tutor, and that someone being Riddle, of all people...?!

"I--"

He stammers, feeling more flustered than he can remember feeling in a long time. "You really want that?!"

And why? Yeah, Riddle had this whole thing about being the best at all subjects but how did this even count?!

He'd gotten Cater to flush from such simple words. Sure, Riddle's own face was burning, but he could easily blame it on the fever, blame it on his cold. Cater had no such thing to blame his own red face on. The very sight of his flushed cheeks sent a rush through Riddle. Oh he could get used to this. That look on his face, the shock, the surprise.

Those stammered little words.

One finger under his chin becomes his thumb pressing against him, his hand fully grabbing his chin now.

"Yes," Riddle confirms, trailing his thumb up to trace Cater's bottom lip. He'd already decided he wanted to do that again with Cater. Not necessarily right now, obviously, but... sometime. Someday soon. If Cater wanted it too. "I do."

Just like that his hand retracts, pulling back from the other boy.

"If you don't, then forget I ever suggested it." Shuffling on the bed, Riddle shifts down against his headboard, pulling his covers up. "I can try to find someone else to learn with, if that's the case. They won't have your expertise," Is that a compliment?? "... but I could make do, as long as I could get my hands on them."

For a moment, Cater's completely frozen as Riddle speaks. On one hand, this energy completely suits the little housewarden, but on the other--where did it even come from?! The older teen finds himself stammering again before remembering himself. He sits up, all wound up, staring Riddle in the face.

Why did it bother him so much, the idea that Riddle was happy to just go to someone else, randomly? What if he asked Trey?!

"There's no need to find anyone else!" He makes the declaration maybe a little too forcefully, clearing his throat. Get my hands on them, Riddle had said. Like, seducing them? OMFG. "I'll do it. Sure, I mean, we've already had sex once, so..."

So it just made sense.

"Spoilers, though: aside from practice, it's a lot of instinct."

Easy wasn't a word that Riddle wanted to use to describe this, to describe flustering Cater. That word wouldn't be accurate. More, he had grown accustomed to what was expected of him, figured out the ways to shock, to surprise. Red was such a pretty color on Cater's face, too, that flush across his cheeks.

... That declaration was made so very quickly, wasn't it? Or was it his imagination?

The smug look on Riddle's face is too obvious. He's won this battle, as he won many of their verbal battles throughout the last two years. Even as he looks back up at Cater, stares right back into his face, he looks oh so very pleased with himself.

"It's settled then. I'm glad to hear it," Shifting slightly, he reaches his hand out, grabbing at one of Cater's, to slip his fingers between his again. Seems he missed the contact and he wasn't going to ask- that's embarrassing.

"... Is it?" This seems to bring on a more thoughtful expression. "So, you're saying... I should go with what feels right in the moment?" His free hand rests under his chin in thought, as if he really WAS treating this like studying, thinking it through.

"If I wanted to, for example, touch you and tease you until you're begging me to let you finish, simply to hear you beg and whine - would that be an instinct I follow in the moment?" How was he able to say that with such a straight face. Riddle, is this something you've thought about?????

So, Cater is finding that Riddle isn't going to need any help learning about dirty talk, because those words coming out his mouth right now, whew! It's very possible he's getting turned on right at this moment, imagining the explicit implications. The scenario is playing out in his head so abruptly that he forgets, for an instant, to actually respond.

"...yes, that would, ah, that would be what you would do."

Seven, he feels so weak, looking at Riddle with that smug little smile on his face. Feeling the burning in his own cheeks.

"Hm..."

This might be easier than he initially thought. Such words easily made Cater's face burn even brighter, to the point where Riddle began to worry if he was getting sick too, now. Or, were his words that effective? As much as he wanted to take advantage of the moment, to pull Cater down into a kiss, to rile him up further...

He'd essentially promised he'd rest until this fever breaks.

"Alright then. If it feels right in the moment the next time we do that sort of activity, I'll go with it." He confirms aloud, squeezing Cater's hand carefully in his own. Had he already said too much, got the other teen thinking too hard on it? ... he hopes so. It was so perfect watching Cater get flustered like this.

Letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, Cater slides out of bed--letting his fingers linger in Riddle's until the last second. As easily as Riddle had conjured such a tense, sexually charged energy, he had dismissed it again. Truthfully, Cater wasn't sure just how he felt about being jerked around so easily--and he could feel it, that he was anxious to jump right into Riddle's arms at so much as a command.

"I'm going to bring this back to the kitchen," he says as he retrieves the finished breakfast tray. His eyes catch the red camellia that was still on the nightstand and without giving it too much thought, picks it up and slides it back into place in his hair. He'd have to find a good place for it in his room, where it wouldn't get damaged.

Maybe while he was cleaning up from breakfast, he'd cool off a little.

Had he pushed Cater too hard, already? As much fun as he was having teasing him, the very last thing he wanted to do was make Cater uncomfortable, to push him to a point where he wanted nothing more than to escape. It didn't seem like Cater was upset, even as he gets up from the bed and moves to pick up the tray. With a small nod, Riddle settles himself further into the bed again.

"Eat if you haven't." He 'orders', a soft smile coming to his face as he watches Cater slip the flower back into his hair. Did Cater like it, or was it easiest to carry it that way? He makes a mental note-- get Cater some flowers sometime, as thanks for taking such good care of him during this illness of his.

"And come back after-!" As if he wasn't planning to already.

With a huff of a laugh, Cater sweeps out of the room. It doesn't take him too long to clean up, and downing a quick bowl of porridge for himself before he puts what's left in the fridge doesn't take much longer. It gives him a few minutes to clear his head from all of that...whatever that was.

Once he feels more grounded, he returns to Riddle's bedroom, helping himself to sliding in under the covers. If he's going to be hanging out, he's going to do so at max comfy! This time, he has his phone handy, and he's ready to get to mindless scrolling while Riddle rests away.

By the time Cater's back, regardless of whether it's only a few minutes or several too many, Riddle finds himself already dozing, comfortable under his warm, clean covers. He hadn't quite fallen asleep though, and when Cater slips under the covers, the smaller teen shifts to roll over on his side, his breathing coming out in small huffs.

He felt like shit and, in his mind a little selfishly, wanted to curl up against Cater. His arm slips around the older teen's waist, his cheek pressing against Cater's chest easily, his eyes squeezed shut. It wasn't that he was doing worse-- well, maybe a little, but that was just the way that illnesses like this went, with its ups and downs.

His hand tangles against the fabric of Cater's shirt, head turning to let him bury his face against him. "Ugh..." He mutters, his brow furrowed, body shaking slightly. "... hate being sick." The housewarden adds on, somewhat stubbornly, as if wishing he could do something to wipe it away in an instant.

Spending the day resting was not Riddle's ideal, but he'd managed to slip into it once Cater was with him. Something about the older teen made it easy to let go of some of his worries, some of the instinctive guilt surrounding the very idea of rest. He might toss and turn, might shift and squirm, might bury his face against Cater and complain about some of his symptoms, sure, but overall the day was comfortable, restful.

Watching something silly together at one point helped lull him back to sleep when it got particularly bad. Riddle followed Cater's lead, to rest and let his body actually heal for once, instead of pushing himself that far.

His fever managed to break during the night, his sleep becoming far easier against Cater once it did. He'd kept the other up, he knew he had, working Cater completely through and through asking for things all day the previous day, no matter how much he wished he could do some of it for himself, to act as if he was perfectly fine. When morning finally came, it was late morning, already around an hour before noon. Cater was still out--

Shifting, Riddle presses a small kiss to his forehead, before slipping out of bed. Silently, he gets himself dressed in something more proper for the day, yawning softly against his hand. There were dishes to take down, from snacks they'd had during the day... clothes he should probably put into the wash... At least this time he doesn't slip on his uniform, instead opting to wear something more casual, something with a bit more coziness to it. He absolutely stole one of Cater's sweaters. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

After taking down the dishes, Riddle slips out of the dorm building with his bag in hand. The library calls, for such a necessary task: meal planning. Hopefully, even if he takes a few hours there, Cater would sleep in further, and... and then he wouldn't even know Riddle had stepped out.

Cater barely stirs when Riddle wakes, murmuring as those soft lips are pressed into his skin but otherwise sleeping soundly. He's still curled up underneath the covers when Riddle leaves, and sleeps in for some time after--eventually, of course, he'd have to wake. He reaches instinctively for where the younger teen had been, blinking confusedly upon finding the space empty.

Still in his pajamas, he wanders the dorm, looking for Riddle and finding him missing. He does notice that chores have been done, and frowns. He must've been feeling better...but it was still too soon for him to exert himself too hard. He'd just end up getting sick all over again. Cater sighs, feeling a fog of tiredness still hanging over him as he dressed himself. There were a few places he could check, but knowing Riddle, Cater had a suspicion where he'd find him.

Riddle's maybe been gone for an hour or two when Cater makes his way into the library, bundled up and still feeling too warm from the biting cold that had been nipping at his skin during the walk over. It's a big room, but it doesn't take too long for Cater to spot his housewarden.

"There you are," he murmurs. "Caught you red handed."

Riddle's own walk over to the library was enough for him to take some time to think to himself, about what the past few days had been like, with Cater. It was strange, wasn't it? The way the two of them were hanging around each other-- no, no. They were just friends, alone for the holidays aside from each other. It was only natural they'd spend time together, right? To keep one another company, when they'd refused to go home to their families.

His mind was still struggling to keep up, to pick it apart as he might be able to do if he were fully okay. It didn't matter in the end, however, as long as the two of them managed to have a calm time, worthy of being called a 'break'.

After arriving in the library himself, he'd found a table to set up at, dropping his bag down and wandering towards a specific section. Several books are collected, all of the same variety. Recipe books. Before he knows it, the table has a good small pile of them for him to go through, to pick out dishes that would both be simple enough to prepare and wouldn't require him to get too many strange ingredients.

When Cater catches him, Riddle's halfway through skimming one book, his notebook out beside him. There were several bookmarks placed within another of the books, as well as the beginning of that having been done to the very one he was looking through now.

Lifting his head at the voice, Riddle blinks. "Caught me?" ... Right. He was supposed to be resting. "I'm not doing anything I shouldn't be." He huffs out, digging his own grave further.

"... I'm not studying if that's what you're concerned about." It certainly LOOKED like he was studying.

"You've got your nose buried in a book and you're telling me you're not studying?"

Cater clicks his tongue but sighs, pulling out the chair next to Riddle to plop beside him. Scolding aside, he needed a second to recharge. Man, that walk really winded him.

"Recipe books?" He picks up one that Riddle isn't currently browsing, looking it over. "Right...cause you said you'd be in charge of dinner."

Oh, boy. Riddle didn't actually have any real experience cooking, did he? Cater can't help letting out a soft chuckle. It was so like Riddle to do things this way instead of admitting that he might need some help.

It did look like he was studying. Riddle's about to comment when Cater moves to sit down next to him, looking at the books that Riddle'd picked out.

Scribbling something down in his notebook, shifting his gaze back down to the paper he was currently writing on.

Once he finished jotting that down, he lifts his head again to glance to Cater, "Yes -- I decided to plan out our dinners for the next week and a half. This way, I can take into account what I might need to get for them, as well as plan out my preparation time and make sure we're both getting enough nutrients."

Cooking was something he really had no clue on. Not that he was going to ask Cater to help, when he'd taken up that meal as his to take care of!!

"Soooo much work..."

Cater flops halfway onto the table, looking at Riddle from over his arms. Yeah, that all sounded like Riddle's style all right. And here Cater was just going to come up with different breakfasts based on what they already had in the kitchen. If Riddle showed him up that much, he'd have to really start putting more effort into it.

He's just about to whine about this realization when he notices something else. Distracted, he asks:

"Hey, isn't that one of my sweaters?"

Somehow? Being caught wearing Cater's sweater felt like being caught far more than the very fact he was here instead of in their dorm.

Riddle sputters, unsure exactly how to respond. Does he lie? No, this sweater was obviously too big on him. Besides, wouldn't Cater recognize his own clothes? How do you even lie about something like this?? Riddle stares at Cater, his cheeks tinting red as easily as always.

"So what if it is?" Riddle decides on, closing his notebook with a snap in front of himself. "I needed something warm to wear." Turning his chin up at Cater, he continues, "If I'd borrowed something of Trey's, I'd have to do his laundry before he returned. You and I will most likely be doing laundry together anyways."

Yes, because that's a good excuse. Sure.

It was cute, just how defensive Riddle got about it. How can he possibly be mad, seeing such a display? He grins, face still a bit flushed. "It looks good on you," he says, reaching over and running a hand down Riddle's closest arm. "You picked a good one."

His hand finally settles by Riddle's, fingertips idly brushing at the back of the other boy's hand.

"You can borrow whatever you want, I don't mind at all."

riddle/cater shenanigans

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

to research how to make food for someone u totally don't have a crush on while you should be resting

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject