Work Text:
“OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!!” cater can hear off in the distance as he paints the red roses in the courtyard white for the upcoming unbirthday party.
he whistles. “ouf, looks like rids’ in a mood today,” he says to himself, but he’s almost done so he’ll deal with it later. its probs just some freshies who broke the rules and made the mistake of letting it be in front of riddle.
he had never been collared by the other and he wanted to say that it was because he had memorized all the rules to a t, but that’d be a lie. the truth was, he was especially careful about what he would do when the housewarden was present and maybe.. maybe he had a little trick up his sleeve.
though, he HAS been getting better with the rules so he can still pat himself on the back for that. he continues to whistle a tune that he had gotten stuck in his head from pop music club, something he can’t remember the name of thats upbeat and cheerful.
“cater, what’s rule #614?” a piercing, clearly irritated voice startles him, as he nearly drops the paintbrush. he turns, trying to rack his brain. what was it again…? it’s on the tip of his tongue but he just can’t remember.
“oh, sup rids!” cater tries to say, but riddle is angry so cater knows he has to be careful.
“what’s rule #614?” riddle asks again, raising his magic pen in a way cater doesn’t miss.
“i definitely know it! it’s— uh— ” cater, raising his hands up. riddle doesn’t look any less angry, this time he points his magic pen at cater, ready to use his signature spell on cater for the first time. cater widens his eyes.
okay. this is clearly #notworking. so it looks like he has to use his.. special perk, something that only works because it’s him. a clone he had summoned earlier to help paint some of the roses creeps behind riddle.
“we don’t have to do that, right?” the clone says, smooth and flirty, as he tilts riddle’s chin to look at him. riddle is momentarily flabbergasted, freezing in his steps before he seems to catch up to what’s going on. the anger on his face turns to embarrassment and shock as he squints.
“w-wha—“
cater doesn’t miss his opportunity. he pushes down the magic pen, and steps closer, smiling innocently. riddle looks back at him, as he makes the clone vanish.
“cater, what are you—“ cater interrupts him, putting a finger to his lips as riddle stiffens, flustered and unsure of himself now.
“i mean, you wouldn’t do that right? not to me?” cater says, because it’s laughably and adorably obvious how riddle is fond of him in a way that he isn’t with others, and this is only confirmed when riddle blushes darker than he already was.
“i— what nonsense is that?!” riddle barely manages to say and cater laughs.
“because i have a feeling i mean more to you than you act you do~” cater coos, booping riddle on the nose as he leans in a bit.
riddle looks at a loss for words, shifting between cater’s eyes and for a brief second, his lips. here’s his chance, cater thinks, as he moves to the side of riddle, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“rule #614: no whistling while painting the roses.” cater continues walking, past riddle, who is stuck in place.
“sooo, that means im forgiven, right? thanks, rids~” cater says, as he walks away. seconds later and far enough from riddle’s grasp, the housewarden seems to notice the fact that cater hadn’t finished painting the roses.
“CATER!!” well, if riddle gets mad at him again, he knows the way to get out of it.