splitmemory | floriddle shenanigans

[ continued from here ]

--

[ There's a tiny gasp that escapes the smaller teen as his hand is grabbed. He's not one to be very capable of stopping someone once they've grabbed him. Instead, he's led along easily, almost stumbling at first in his little heels to follow Floyd along through the winding shelves. ]

I-- didn't think you liked books, Floyd.

[ Is the comment that slips out, after his noticeable excitement. ]

[Seven, he's always found those heels fascinating. Not just from a sneakerhead standpoint, no, but also from a place of awe. Sure, Floyd's only been on land for two years, but he's nowhere near as graceful as Riddle is in a pair of pretty heels...

It's enough to warm him under the collar as he promptly arrives in the fiction section.]

I read a book every week. Sometimes I reread old adventure ones, but I've been big into romance lately.

[Can't imagine why...]

Edited 2024-11-28 04:37 (UTC)

[ Isn't it insane, how little you learn about someone when you don't tend to have the time to give them, to learn further about them? When things are calm, when things are relaxed and there's time to just be... people.

Riddle finds himself in a bit more of a surprised state, at that comment. ]

Wait, every week? Really? [ He's going to ignore the romance part for a second. Or, well, ] ... any particular types of romance?

Yup~ Azul's always lecturin' me 'cause I stay up 'til dawn reading most days.

[But at the next question, Floyd leans against one of the bookshelves and sighs. It's not that the selection here is necessarily bad... It's just not extreme enough for Floyd's tastes.

Especially not recently.]

Raunchier stuff than this, that's for sure~

[ See, Riddle was going to comment on the whole Floyd staying up until dawn, reading of all things, but then he makes that comment.

Riddle tugs his hand back from Floyd's with a small huff, turning his chin up as he turns his gaze away from the other boy. ]

Must you be so crass?! This is the school library, there wouldn't be anything of that kind here. Forget I asked.

[ Just like that the sweet little rose shows his thorns all over again. Though he is moving close to Floyd, if only to get a look at the books on that shelf, his eyes scanning them. ]

That's what I'm sayin'. I don't mind the other stuff so long as it's--

[The thought dies abruptly, Floyd's focused diverted the moment Riddle draws near. He's always held a flowery scent--rosier and warmer than Mackerel, to be sure--but something about this is different.

Something about this is un-ignorable.

Before Floyd can think twice, he shifts to block the exit with his larger frame.]

[ Sure, Floyd had his whims, but cutting off his own statement like that? Going quieter, the thought dying with whatever distraction came over him? ... You know, Riddle's actually not all that surprised.

His fingers carefully touch along the spines of the books, as he spares Floyd another glance.

Floyd's known for weird things, but. ]

What in the world are you doing???

[Unfortunately for Riddle (and everyone, really) Floyd isn't exactly known for his eloquence, so rather than provide a reasonable explanation, he keeps Riddle boxed in and whines softly,]

Goldfishie, you feel funny...

[What could that possibly mean?]

[ His hand falls away from the book he was potentially going to grab. The other book set down onto the shelf next to it, to allow him to have his hands free. That way, he can rest his hands on his hips, turning to completely face Floyd.

His brows are furrowed, knit together. ]

What? Feel funny? You're not even touching me.

[ Not anymore, that is. Sure, he felt a little warmer than usual, but that's normal at this time of year, when the heat is pushed through the school to combat the cold! ]

Are you sure you're feeling alright? Do you need to go to the Nurse's?

Edited 2024-11-28 06:07 (UTC)

No, i mean like…

[How can he explain this? Normally Floyd isn’t one to care too much about decorum—not the same as his brother and Azul, at least—but in this instance he feels like he should be a bit more… meticulous. If Riddle gets away this time, maybe something might go wrong…

He has no definitive proof, but he just feels it in his fins!]

You’re warmer than normal. And you’re flowery-er than normal too.

Edited 2024-11-28 07:41 (UTC)

[ Riddle's brows furrow, in a way that shows he's trying to think through what it was that Floyd was saying. Warmer - flowery...er. There's a few things that could mean- but ultimately...

No. No, it couldn't be that. Could it? Riddle shifts where he stands, taking in a small breath. ]

... I've no clue what you're talking about.

[ No, he does. But... if it's noticeable, that means he has a day or two still, right? ]

I'm fine. [ Yet he's finding himself drawn a little more towards Floyd. A compliance, if only to ease the concern on his face, in which Riddle takes a slight step closer. Oh, but even that's too much. ] ... choose a book.

[Given Floyd's line of work--how should we say?--he knows a lie when he hears one.

He puffs his cheeks at the blatant denial, and because he's always been unafraid of testing Riddle's buttons, he persists, hands propped upon his hips. At least he doesn't sound like he's nagging so much as he's scolding. Lightly.]

You know exactly what I'm talkin' about, Goldfishie.

[ Ugh. Now Floyd was pushing, and he's sure to push even more if Riddle continues to be the way he is. Not that this will stop him--

Riddle's face heats up further, as he becomes a little more acutely aware of the feelings within his body. The warmth, the slight tingle of need, the ache that comes with it. Was he too late? ...Maybe he should cut this short. ]

It's nothing you need to concern yourself with. [ Nope, because he's not going to explain that Floyd seeming to care so much is setting him off even further-- ] Perhaps this was a mistake. I should go.

[ ...and he's trying to step past Floyd. It's agonizing to get that close, when his heart's beginning to pound. When his head spins, enough to pull at the more impulsive of his thoughts. The ones that say he should get closer to Floyd, not move away. ]

[Floyd’s not concerned. He thinks. Mostly he’s thinking about how much of a racket it will be, how messy it will be, how annoying it will be if Riddle meets up with the wrong crowd. … Does that mean Floyd is the “right” crowd, then?

Of course the smartest thing to do would be to go to the nurse, right? Except Floyd doesn’t exactly feel like involving them in this either.

He keeps his feet planted firmly on the ground and this time reaches out to try and rest a cold palm over Riddle’s forehead.]

Hmm…

[ Oh. That cold palm makes contact with him, and touch of all things makes him shudder, causes his breath to catch. Even something as simple as a hand against his forehead -- how could he have been so careless? ]

Stop that. [ Riddle all but demands, bringing his own hand up to try and push his hand back by his wrist. He's warm- warmer by the second, really, and that cool touch was doing wonders for it, but he's not about to let himself stick around. ] Let me go or I'll... I'll....

[ He wants to threaten him, to shove him away, to deal with this on his own. ]

Or it'll be off with your head. I told you, it is nothing.

[ There's he manages to get it out, his other hand coming down to point up at him, as he raises his voice just slightly above library levels. ]

[Floyd's heard Riddle's threats before. That same one, actually--off with his head... He might hear it more than anyone else in this school. ... He hopes he does.

See, he remembers the very first time he heard it, the very first time he felt it searing his veins and severing the magic from his bones. It was interesting. Different. Something Floyd could only experience here on land.

... He didn't sleep that night, too restless at the memory of ruby red and petal-soft. Meeting Riddle, Floyd decided, felt more "right" than anything he'd ever felt before. So he can't leave. And he won't. Instead, he persists harder than ever, taking one big step after another to try and ease Riddle into a quiet, dark corner. Though Floyd's words are teasing, he remains remarkably calm. No one can ever say for certain how long Floyd's moods will last, of course, but around Riddle--Riddle as he is right now--he thinks he can control himself, even just a bit.]

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get a move on, lil' goldfish. We gotta sit you down somewhere for a second.

[ Being cornered isn't a feeling that Riddle enjoys. Trapped, unable to get free.

If he wanted, if he really wanted to, he could easily overpower Floyd. Not with his body, with his nonexistent strength, but with his magic. Those flames that burn as bright as his own hair, that unique spell of his to cut off Floyd's magic so he can't rely on that. No, that's how he knows he doesn't feel trapped, even as Floyd works to ease him into a quiet space, even as he's stumbling back to try and accommodate instead of squirming free. It's different.

Less trapped. More... ]

No..-- No. Not here.

[ Riddle's hands are falling, reaching out, grasping onto the sleeve of the other student's uniform jacket. ]

... [ Look, he's trying to swallow down his pride. Give him a second. ] Get me to my dorm. I need...

[ He can't say it. He won't. Instead? He's taking the slightest step closer, tugging on Floyd's sleeve in such a way that demands he press a hand against his waist. Demanding touch; closeness, something that Riddle would vehemently deny otherwise. He needs it right now. To feel that closeness that he knows, deep down, he's been avoiding for so very long. ]

[Floyd himself isn't a fan of restriction. In fact, there's nothing he hates more. But being burned and collared, ground beneath a pointed heel-- He takes that as a challenge.

He half expects to be reduced to cinders, so when Riddle instead makes his demand, Floyd tilts his head and quiets, mismatched eyes focused on the smaller boy's face.

... This is usually the part where Azul's prized guard dog makes his own demands in turn. What's in it for him? What are the terms? Just how benevolent is he willing to be? And yet here he is, leaning in so close he's practically Riddle's crutch. One bad move and Riddle will fall. One bad move and Floyd will fuck this up.

His heart thrums as he not only rests a hand on Riddle's waist, but also ducks down to support his legs. Assuming someone isn't a wiggle worm and accepts his generously free princess hold, Floyd fully intends to be a good boy and do as he's told.]

[ And, usually, this is the part where Riddle would make some sort of threat, if Floyd dared to touch him like this on any normal day. Riddle lets out the smallest of gasps, his hand moving from Floyd's sleeve to instead grasp the front of his uniform, clutching onto him as if he was worried he might be dropped.

There's none of that fire. Not as much as usual, for sure. Riddle's warm - maybe a little too warm - as he shifts to press close to Floyd, all but burying his face against the other student, using his hand to help him hide his face. Why? Because... he'll be damned if anyone sees him willingly allowing Floyd to carry him, even if his hair was a dead giveaway. That, and... being close like this felt so right. Comforting.

Riddle's quiet on their journey to his dorm. There's a shift here and there, a little squirming, but nothing too major. The only time he speaks up, or shifts to try and squirm away, is once they've actually passed through the mirror, gotten to Heartslabyul.

Pushing his hand against Floyd's chest, he breathes out a shaky little huff of a breath, ]

Put me down. [ Says the little housewarden, as his fingers play with one of the buttons of Floyd's own uniform vest. ] I can walk the rest of the way.

[Floyd could be considerate and take his jacket off to cover up Riddle's head, but, well, he's already carrying him, isn't he? And what's more, this poor goldfish is burning up. Floyd shouldn't make it worse. So as much as it ~~brings him great amusement~~ pains him to leave a poor unfortunate soul's needs unmet, Riddle will have to leave that precious red face exposed for all of campus to see.

No need to worry. Floyd has a feeling he'll be able to make this up to him very, very soon.]

Nope~

[comes the carefree reply. As much as he wants to entertain those sneaky fingers, Floyd risks his head and continues onward, weaving through hedgemazes and dodging butter-and-toast-flies to reach the dorms. Alright. Maybe he's a little impatient now, made evident when he approaches the Housewarden's quarters and strikes it open with a kick.]

Ahuh~ I didn't even know if this would be your dorm~ For all I knew this could've been Sea Bream's and we would've walked in on him kissin' Sea Turtle or whatever.

[Floyd sounds too awfully cheerful about all that as he crosses the room and gingerly eases Riddle down atop his bed.]

Better?

Hey-!

[ Riddle only gets out the littlest of protests before they're on the move again, headed right along through the shrubbery. It's so indecent, isn't it? Someone like Floyd carrying the Housewarden of this domain, as if he's a dainty little thing. He is, but that isn't the point--

His complaints only get him so far. It's not like he wants to be dropped. No, he'll sit still long enough to get to his dorm if he must. He'll even bury his face right back against Floyd, taking in another breath to try and still his pounding heart.

Ugh... ]

Must you sound so happy suggesting my Vice be doing such things-- [ He doesn't have much time to focus on that thought. The second he's set down, the flush to his face is obvious. Clear, just how bad it'd gotten through their journey. How dazed he seems to be, his eyes unfocused as he props himself up on one elbow.

The other hand reaches out, grabs onto Floyd again. This time, harder. More rough, needy, demanding he lean down. ]

... No.

[ Worse, really. But that's only because-- ]

I need... [ He hates this. He hates this!!! ] If you were serious about courting me-- prove it. Kiss me.

[Oh? What’s this? Even more demands? Well, now someone’s just being greedy.

And it isn’t as if Floyd is much better.

He’s on the little rose in a shake of a tail fin, burying his face into his neck with all the fervor of a starving predator. How does he smell so sweet? How does he feel so soft?

Fuck, been wanting to do this for years.]

‘kay~

[With shoes haphazardly kicked to the side, Floyd presses a knee to the bed and leans in, tongue eagerly coiling with Riddle’s own once he’s tasted his lips.]

[ It's a lot. The sudden closeness, the feel of Floyd's face pressed against his neck, taking in all he could get. Riddle can't hold back the gasp, the way his opposite hand comes up to tangle his fingers into Floyd's hair.

By now, he's too distracted to complain. Besides, who could complain once they're getting what they want?

Riddle makes a soft noise in surprise as Floyd practically jumps at the opportunity. If he wasn't out of breath before, he dann well was losing the rest of it now.

Almost completely by instinct, his tongue dances with Floyd's, to the rhythm of a song that's only theirs. He squirms under the other boy enough to kick off his own shoes, not caring where they land. No, the only thing that matters is getting Floyd closer. Can the other boy feel Riddle's growing desperation? If not, it probably becomes more evident with how he begins to try and pull Floyd further in, almost begging for added contact.

Closer. Closer-- he's going to get what he wants, no matter what. His lips part further, offer more access. Does he need to give Floyd verbal permission, or will his dear classmate understand his need for touch, for closeness? ]

[How long has he dreamed about this, fantasized about this exact moment—Riddle beneath him, pining for him, giving him attention like he’s never known before?

Fabric rustles as he shrugs off his jacket and tosses it to the floor, never more than a second or two away from Riddle’s touch. He barely manages to undo his belt buckle before impatience takes over and he’s kissing him again with equal hunger.

Closer. Closer. He’s going to give Riddle what he wants. Tongue, teeth, his rock hard cock straining between his legs… Over and over Floyd rocks his hips, shamelessly rutting against Riddle’s body.]

So cute~

[he mutters in between gasps for air, forehead pressed to Riddle’s own.]

[ For the smaller boy, it's more difficult to get off any of his clothes. Sure, he can wriggle his arms free of his jacket, tug his shirt from past his pants where it was tucked in, undo some of the buttons to open his vest and start on the button up under, but there are so many layers.

So many things to remove, when he really does just wish they could get right down to it.

Funny, if they just thought about it for long enough, they could possibly use magic to speed up the process.

Seven, his mind was not only addled with the idea of lust, he's being given everything he could ever want. He's gasping, whimpering into the other's mouth at the feeling of their bodies pressed so firmly together, the pleasure of Floyd's cock against his own. He can't take it, and yet. He wants more. ]

Cute? In what world am I cute-- [ He's a little embarrassed, sorry Floyd, he hasn't been called cute all that often!! ]

Watch your mouth or-- or...

[ Riddle whines as he feels Floyd rock against him in just a specific way. There's something unstable about his magic in this moment, as he's thinking of a specific threat he's going to pose, and....

Floyd will find a certain lock clamping over his throat. Completely by accident, by the way. ]

why aren't we dating that's somehow become a/b/o., don't ask how.

we're just nasty

true....... at least we nasty in private LOLL

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