splitmemory | riddle/cater shenanigans

Cater looks up--in the time Riddle took to shower, he had stripped the bed of its sheets and placed them in the laundry, fetching new ones to replace them with. He's still in the clothes he'd been wearing--which couldn't have been comfortable, but he would be showering next, anyway, so it seemed silly to change now. He's just finishing putting on the new sheets as Riddle enters and calls out. At once, he has a new smile lighting up his face.

"Feeling any better? Here, slide in and I'll grab the comforter. You must be hungry by now, too. I'll make you something that you can eat in bed."

Doing a quick fluff of the pillows for Riddle to rest upon, Cater hurries over to grab the comforter that he'd set aside while he fixed up the rest of the bed. Once the little king is in place, he'll throw them over and tuck him in properly. How's that for good service? Maybe he'd had a bit of experience caring for his own sick siblings, once or twice.

"A little." Riddle replies easily, seeming to visibly relax further as he spots Cater, as he hears his voice. Good, he'd kept his promise, stayed close as he could... and he even actually went through with all the work of changing the sheets, making sure to get everything cleaned for him. Shifting over to the bed, he practically drags his feet the whole way, like a child who was far too tired for his own good.

Getting comfortable in bed was easier, now, with how clean everything was. It felt better, even if his bed lacked a significant warmth within it, in the form of one Cater Diamond.

"You're not getting sick too, are you?" Riddle asks as he's tucked in, his hand reaching out and grasping onto one of Cater's, refusing to let him go until he's gotten an answer to that question. And...

He pulls that hand up towards his own face, pressing Cater's hand to his own forehead. Riddle's face is red, flushed with his fever and something more. He doesn't want to ask for it aloud, but he hopes this is enough. "Before you go..." He murmurs, avoiding his gaze.

He wants a kiss. Right where he's put Cater's hand, on his head. It's not clear at all and he knows it. Cater might get it. He's Riddle's camellia, after all. How could he not?

Is it just him, or does Riddle get like, five times cuter when he's sick? There's something so precious about the way he holds himself, the way he moves and those reluctant glances. He's sure he's never seen this side of Riddle before, and he can't help himself.

"Before I go?"

But it's more of a teasing question. He leans in and replaces the cool palm of his hand with his lips against Riddle's warm forehead. Cater takes his time pulling back, fingertips trailing down the other boy's cheek as he does.

"I feel fine. I'm going to clean myself up, and then I'll be back with breakfast, okay? Nothing as fancy as yesterday, just something good for you while you're sick."

Cater did it-- he figured out what Riddle wanted. Understood what he meant by the hand to his forehead. Riddle couldn't look happier if he tried. The illness made it hard to fake what he was feeling, to hide away any slivers of emotion that might be something he doesn't want to show.

He smiles, smug in a way, that he'd gotten what he wanted. Getting comfortable under the comforter, he pulls it further up, to hide the lower half of his face.

"Alright." He agrees lightly, nodding his head lightly.

"... Can you bring painkillers when you come back? My head really hurts. And-- what are we going to do after breakfast?" So many questions, so many little requests. How needy..!

OMG. Ugh, Cater wishes he could take pictures of every little expression that Riddle's been making so he could go back and look at them again, later. But no, he just had to rely on his own memory to savor this dose of sweetness--it was the only sugar he found himself craving more of.

"I'll go get those first, that way they'll kick in by the time I get back for real." He stands, stepping toward the door and humming as he picks up the abandoned tray from the night before. "What we do after breakfast depends on how you're feeling."

He can't stop himself from tossing Riddle a wink over his shoulder.

"I'll leave it up to your imagination."

That cheerful expression quickly is replaced to a half embarrassed half annoyed expression, that he hides under the comforter. Waving his hand at Cater to make him leave faster, he grumbles something unintelligible under the cover.

"Stupid...." He mutters, bringing his hands up under the comforter to press them to his face. Cater was so damned stupid. So so so stupid. What did he even MEAN by that?! If he lets his imagination run too far, he might end up worked up again, thinking about all the things they'd done the night before.

Maybe he should've grabbed his pen and thrown a pillow into the back of Cater's head.

Or, thrown the pillow directly himself.
Instead, he waits for Cater to return with the medicine, burying himself under the comforter.

Cater bursts into giggles at Riddle's reaction, quickly darting out the door as if afraid something would get thrown at him. It only takes him a moment to put the tray down in the kitchen and fetch the painkillers, which he brings with a fresh glass of water.

"Here you are," he offers, holding out the two items before him like they're a peace offering. The too-wide grin is still plastered across his face, and as soon as Riddle takes them he jumps back, light on his feet. "KK, I'm gonna shower now. Just call for me if you need anything once I'm out and working on breakfast. BRB, Queen!"

And there he goes. He doesn't require cleaning nearly as thorough as Riddle, but he still make sure he's nice and scrubbed down before changing into some comfortable lounge clothes--something a step up from pajamas, but still suited for a day spent indoors and relaxing. Within about twenty minutes he can be heard singing to himself in the kitchen as he clatters around, using a Split Card to assist him with cleaning from the night before while he simultaneously works on breakfast.

Assuming Riddle doesn't need him any sooner, he'll be on his way in with a new tray in about a half hour more. This one has a hot bowl of fresh porridge and a steaming cup of honeyed tea.

"Miss me?"

If Cater hadn't left in time, Riddle was seriously considering it. He nearly reached over to his nightstand to grab his pen before he notices that Cater had made the right decision, leaving him be in the room to go fetch the meds and water.

The peace offerings are taken easily, Riddle offering one more glare to the other teen as he jumps back. Seven save him from the torture that was Cater Diamond. Cater wasn't stuck here with Riddle, Riddle was stuck here with Cater.

Riddle swallows two pills easily before setting the bottle and water glass onto his nightstand, settling in under the comforter.

It's hard not to doze with how comfortable he is, his eyes closed. The only thing that half wakes him back up is the sound of singing-- oh. Cater's.... voice was nice.... The very same voice that'd woken him up from his dozing state puts him right back to a calm quiet, his breathing becoming more even as the painkillers finally begin to take effect.

The footsteps rouse him enough that he shifts to sit up in bed, preparing himself for his breakfast. The question earns a soft, sleepy nod, before Riddle realizes he'd just answered the question in an all too embarrassing way. Turning his chin up, looking away from Cater, he scoffs, "You weren't even gone that long."

His gaze flicks towards the tray.

Awww, he looked so comfortable and cozy--Cater almost wishes he hadn't disturbed Riddle at all, but since they ended up skipping dinner, it was definitely important that they both got something in them to start the day.

"It's not much, but it'll keep your energy up and help you get better."

Cater places the tray gently down on Riddle's legs before sliding into the spot next to him. He should go get himself a serving, but now that he's here, he finds himself reluctant to get back up again. Can't he just lay here and watch Riddle enjoy being pampered?

“Anything will do. Besides, I feel a little nauseous, so…”

Lifting the spoon up, he gathers himself a good spoonful of porridge, carefully bringing it to his lips and eating a little at a time, trying to go easy on his stomach after the lack of food. Really, he’d only had breakfast yesterday, skipping lunch and dinner by accident, unless Cater counted their hot cocoa as a lunch.

“This is perfect.” He finished his statement, reaching out his free hand to tuck some of Cater’s hair out of his face. Looking back down to his food, he focused his attention there.

“I’m sorry again. That I got so sick in the first place.” He apologizes lightly, “I should’ve known better. I’m a little weaker than I’d like to admit.”

Cater smiles up at Riddle as he plays with his hair. Perfect, huh?

"You did put me on breakfast duty," he jokes. "Gotta make sure each day starts off just right."

But at the next sentiment, he shakes his head. "You don't need to apologize for that. It's not because you're weak--it's because you work so hard. We just gotta get you to practice moderation. Every body needs to rest and recharge from time to time, even yours."

That's right: perfect. A simple word that, in more ways than one, meant more than Riddle would ever realize himself. He'd had someone care for him when he was sick before, but it wasn't like this. Wasn't like...

"I'll hold you to it." Riddle declares with a firm nod, finally eating a bit more. If he wasn't sick and worried about spreading those germs to Cater, he might get some onto his spoon and bring it up to the other boy's lips, to make sure he ate too.

With a thoughtful hum, Riddle keeps his gaze away from Cater.

"What does moderation even mean? I cannot abandon any of my duties and I certainly cannot let myself begin to slip in my studies," Here comes the lecture, if Cater wasn't careful, "... I meant it literally. Not as some dig at myself. Who do you think I am that you think I'd wallow in self pity?" In front of someone else?, he stops from adding. Riddle shakes his head, making a face. "My body has a harder time fighting these things off." Which, if Riddle was a bit less stubborn, was exactly why he needed to rest and recharge. Dumb genius of a boy.

Cater sighs with a chuckle. Only Riddle would argue a point like this. "Rest is what keeps a body healthy," he reaffirms gently. "I meant more than just a mental recharge."

But, whatever. If Riddle wants to lecture, he'll just get comfortable. It's fun to hear him talk, even when he's being kind of ridiculous.

"I'm sure you know yourself better than I do, though. What my liege says, goes!"

And argue it he, unfortunately, would. "Rest isn't the only thing that keeps someone healthy," Riddle begins, knowing full well he was both digging his own grave and giving plenty of invalid points, "At times, our bodies aren't what tell us our limits. If something hurts, you push through it. If you get sick, you push through that."

Riddle makes a face down at Cater, before shifting one hand down, unable to stop himself. He twirls a small wavy piece of hair around his finger, allowing the soft strand to slip between his first and second fingers.

"It's only when we've completed what we've set out to do that it's time to rest. To have structure is to be healthy. By following each little rule, each step," The more he talked, the more he heard not his own voice, but--
Ah, and he'd tried so hard to get away from home by staying back over break. This is... exactly the type of mindset that pushed him over the edge in the first place, that overwhelmed him. The very mindset that his dear dorm members were trying to pull him from.

"..." His gaze stays on Cater for a second, that strand of hair falling from his hold. "... Would be what I would say if I weren't trying to do better about this. You'll teach me, won't you? How to rest, to relax."

Though half-lidded, his green eyes watch Riddle as he goes on his tirade. He doesn't react to his hair being played with, doesn't seem at first like he's going to react to any of it--but then Riddle catches himself. Cater feels a mixture of emotions--sympathy for what he's gone through, pride for how far he's come from being the Tyrant of Heartslabyul.

"I will," he promises, lacing his finger's through Riddle's before he can pull his hand away. "It'll get easier with practice, just like everything else."

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."

riddle/cater shenanigans

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