Chapter Text
Cater walked with slow, reluctant steps up the cobblestone pathway that was framed by wilted rose vines. The driveway was damp from last night’s snow, slick with ice and water, but that wasn’t the reason for his dragging feet. His heavy new boots that he’s failed to break in yet or his wool coat that trapped his nervous sweat were not the reasons, either.
It was the house at the end of the driveway that held 99% of his anxiety. A simple, modern house with a beautiful rose garden as a front yard. Unsuspicious and non-malicious in nature. A big contrast to the apartment Cater moved into.
When he was halfway to the red door, he sighed, wondering once again if this was the right choice. Was this getting too close? Should he have let Trey peer pressure him into this? Especially today of all days?
Well. Cater supposed it was just lunch. Nothing too special. Definitely not some sort of permanent bonding experience or a way to advance their status from coworkers to friends. It was part of the process of making fun memories–to remember later, when he eventually leaves.
The red door opened before Cater could change his mind. Trey popped his head out, his thick black frames fogging immediately in the cold air. Cater stopped his approach, a smidge reluctant to get closer, and put on a grin.
“You made it!” Trey said gratefully. Strangely, instead of letting Cater inside, Trey stepped outside and closed the door. He was wearing vastly different clothing than he did at the kindergarten, from a casual long-sleeve to soft jeans. “Thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure you would.”
“Aw, that hurts, what kind of person do you think I am?” Cater held his smile, wriggling his fingers in a wave. In his other hand, he held up a plastic bag. “I even brought drinks. Besides, how could I not come when my kind and generous coworker actually hides a dark side and basically bullied me into coming?”
Trey pushed up his glasses. “Stop making me a bad guy. I’m not hiding anything.”
“Mm, then is there a reason why you’re standing there like you accidentally posted a photo as a trend but then realized that trend was three weeks old and irrelevant on the Internet so now it’s just a post of shame instead of what you actually intended, instead of letting me in your house?”
“What? No, I–”
Trey shifted his weight, his first sign of nervousness. Running a hand through his hair, he pursed his lips with a similar reluctance Cater had approaching the house.
“Trey?”
“This wasn’t my idea, okay? I only brought it up with Riddle–”
“Wait, Riddle?”
“But unfortunately, Vil overheard–”
“Vil?”
“And you know Lilia has sharp ears, so–”
“What do you mean Lilia?”
“Though of course the kids–”
“Trey!” Cater shot out a hand to stop Trey’s rambling. Both his and Trey’s faces looked exceptionally nervous. “Can we get back to the basics? What are you talking about?”
Trey sighed. He jerked his head towards the door. “Just come. You’ll see.”
With an even greater foreboding in his stomach, Cater followed Trey the rest of the way to the door. Trey turned the doorknob and pushed open the door slowly. Cater could have sworn he heard him mutter sorry before he stepped over the threshold.
“Happy birthday!”
Streamers and confetti assaulted Cater’s face. When his vision finally cleared, his jaw dropped, along with the plastic bag in his hand. A large collection of his students, parents, and their entourage stood at the entranceway, some with confetti bombs, and some with looks of excitement in varying degrees.
Lilia and Rook stood near the front with toothy grins, the latter holding a ridiculously sized bouquet of roses. Vil stood at the edge of the crowd with a solemn expression, along with Malleus who towered over everybody in the group. Riddle had a firm grasp on each of his twins’ collars but otherwise had a tight smile on his face. The only ones not in close proximity to the group was Leona, who was chugging his drink in the back, and Ruggie, who was already nose deep into a cupcake. The children scattered like sprinkles around them.
“What…oof,” Cater wheezed.
Epel squeezed Cater’s legs tight, his face beaming up at him with large eyes.
“Happy birth!” Epel shouted happily. “You tried to hide ya birth, Mr. Cater!”
“I didn’t really try to hide it, kid–oh my god–” Cater tumbled backwards, nearly falling to the floor if it weren’t for Trey catching him from behind. Ace and Deuce had managed to escape Riddle’s grip and join Epel’s tackle. Sebek and Silver ran forward as well, Jack lingering behind until he saw everyone join.
“Happy birthday!” Ace parroted with a mischievous smile. “When’s cake?”
“Ace!” Riddle reprimanded.
“Woow, Mr. Cater, are those ripped jeans?” Deuce poked a finger through one of the holes in Cater’s jeans.
“How old are you?” Jack asked.
“Happy birthday,” Silver echoed.
“You’re old,” Sebek accused.
Trey coughed to hide a laugh and steadied Cater’s shoulders to say, “Alright everyone, back up. I think we gave him a heart attack.”
“Ace, Deuce, you have four seconds to get back to me.”
Vil snapped his fingers. “Epel, come here now. You will show respect to your teacher.”
“But ’s Mr. Cater’s birth!”
“Birthday.”
With grumbles, the class shuffled backwards from Cater. Once the entire weight of the class was not on his shins, Cater exhaled a breath of relief. That relief turned into a betrayed look.
“Just lunch and tea?”
Trey raised his hands in surrender. “That was the original plan. But someone discovered my plan and found out it was your birthday. I had no control after that.”
“Oh, look, they’re making us to be the villains on his birthday,” Vil said with a roll of his eyes. “Never mind I had to take time out of my busy schedule for this event.”
“Perhaps he never received the invitation to his own party.”
“That would go against the entire idea of a surprise party, dear Malleus.”
“Beaute! 10/10 reaction for Monsieur Cater!”
“Mr. Cater, you don’t like your surprise party?” Deuce looked devastated.
Closing his eyes, Cater covered his face with a hand. He took a moment to silently inhale and exhale through his nostrils, the scent of warmed sugar and roses relaxing his muscles–and then dropped his hand to reveal a bubbly grin.
“Aw, it’s not that! You guys just surprised me. This is totes the surprise birthday party. How’d you all know it was even my birthday?”
“We read your file,” Rook answered in an unashamed manner.
Of course you did. Cater’s smile twitched.
“We couldn’t let you celebrate your birthday alone!” Lilia claimed. He came forward and managed to hook an arm around Cater’s neck, yanking him down with surprising strength. “You’re my new music buddy, after all.”
“I am?”
“Oi, Clover,” Leona growled from all the way in the back, holding up an empty can. “Where's the rest of your stash?”
“Can I get another cupcake?” Ruggie asked in synchrony, the evidence of a red velvet cupcake crumbled around his lips. “They’re free, right?”
“Perhaps you should try juice instead of alcohol, Kingscholar.”
“Good thing nobody asked you a damn thing, creepy bastard.”
“Language, Leona. There are children, and Epel will not be picking up foul language from you.”
“I tried to have Silver curse once, but the lad refused.”
“Why did you want your five year old child to curse?”
“I thought it’d be amusing!”
“Hello-o-o? Free cupcake, please?”
Trey gave Cater an apologetic glance as the adults joined the children in their unrelenting bickering. To his credit, he genuinely looked guilty, his hair slightly frazzled from the many times his hand ran through it in stress. He reached over to pat Cater’s shoulder in solidarity with a lukewarm smile.
“Happy birthday?”
“Ah, Cater! Come, come, I have a surprise for you,” Lilia called from his place on the couch. Leona sat on the other end, both of them watching Cater linger at the entrance of the living room. “Come, I don’t bite!” He used a gloved hand to beckon Cater, a stark contrast to his brightly colored button-up and casual shorts.
Leona snorted.
Cater with masked reluctance approached the two, settling into a chair next to Lilia.
“Hey, Lils. Don’t tell me you made me something for my birthday?” Cater asked weakly, trying not to remember what happened last time when Lilia brought birthday cupcakes for the class. “Because you know your presence is more than enough today~!”
“I unfortunately did not have time to make you a cake this time,” Lilia said with disappointment. “Malleus distracted me from the task. No, no, I have a different gift for you. Just…Wait for a moment, I can’t seem to find it…"
While Lilia ruffled through his small bag, Cater took the time to look through the glass doors of the living room, which led to Trey’s backyard. The adults insisted the children be herded outside to play, especially with Trey’s outdoor heaters. It was really just an excuse for the adults to be inside alone. From the way all six children were running, the class was playing a modified version of tag.
“Soo, Leona,” Cater switched his attention to the slouching football player at the foot of the couch. Lilia was still searching for whatever he’d misplaced.
Leona raised an eyebrow from his phone. “What?”
“The season’s finally over, yeah? What’s the plan now that you’re free?”
“Prepare for the next season.”
“That’s boring,” Cater complained, leaning forward. “Besides that. Any special plans? Charity drive? Kingscholar family vacation?”
“No.”
“Come on, give me a better answer! For my birthday?”
“Are you always this annoying?” Leona finally set down his phone to glare at Cater. He took a moment to regard the teacher, as if truly considering Cater for his next meal. “Fine. Jack’s been bugging me for a greenhouse in the backyard. This spring we’ll start buildin’ it out and finishin’ it over the summer. That what you wanted?”
Cater blinked, not really expecting such a thoughtful response. “That’s–”
“Aha!” Lilia declared triumphantly. He held up a small, square box that was haphazardly wrapped in pink and blue paper. “I knew I’d packed it. Apologies, Cater, things always seem to misplace me. Here, my gift to you.”
Cater took the package cautiously, trying to hide how pleased he was to actually get a physical gift. Sure, he received packages from his family but as expected, they weren’t anything he particularly liked. His father had sent him a nice text. Needless to say, he wasn’t expecting anything much for his birthday.
He unwrapped the package, already rambling the same phrase he always did, “Aw, thanks, Lils, you really didn’t have–Is this the limited edition sold out phone case I’ve been looking for over two months?” Cater exclaimed, holding up the case to the light. Colors of red and orange shined through it, highlighting the unique shapes that adorned a clear case.
Lilia chuckled and slapped a hand against Cater’s back. “Yes! I was able to get one from my travels over the break. Do you like it?”
“Are you kidding? This is legit the best gift ever. How did you even know this was what I wanted?”
“You’ve been talking about a sold out phone case for a while now.”
Cater let out a disbelieving laugh, still marveling at the case. “You were actually listening?”
Lilia gave Cater an odd look. “Of course. We are friends, correct?”
Cater didn’t answer, too busy popping out his phone from his old case and replacing it with the new to register Lilia’s words.
Following the sound of water running and a boiling pot, Cater popped his head into Trey’s kitchen.
“Anything I can do to help?” he questioned.
Vil was the sole person occupying the kitchen, his tall back turned towards the entrance while he focused on washing a head of lettuce in the sink. His golden hair was braided into a bun, some loose strands purposefully curled at the start of his brown turtleneck. Notably, the dark circles previously under his eyes were absent.
“If you asked as a polite gesture under the hopes I’d reject your offer because it’s your birthday, you’re mistaken. You did offer. Cut those carrots in brunoise,” Vil ordered, using a slender finger to point to the abandoned carrots on a chopping board.
“Right! No problem,” Cater bounded over to the cutting board. He didn’t know what brunoise meant exactly, but he hoped a simple dice would satisfy Vil. After an exhausting game of tag with the children and dodging Rook’s interrogation, Hell’s Kitchen with Vil Schoenheit didn’t sound so bad. “What are we cooking?”
Apparently, the pizza they’d ordered prior to Cater’s arrival disappeared as soon as Cater arrived (totally unrelated to Sebek and Ruggie). So did the cupcakes. Trey had mentioned he was baking a cake, however, which was evident by the aroma of toasted sugar and vanilla. But something savory lingered too; something salty with a sting of spice.
“Trey mentioned you don’t enjoy sweets, but you do enjoy foods with spice. While I’m not an expert at cooking, I can make a ramen dish from a simple recipe,” Vil replied, shaking out the lettuce and placing it over another cutting board.
Cater didn’t know how he felt about Trey revealing his secret dislike for sweets.
“...How’d you know I like ramen?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions.”
Cater stuck out his tongue out of habit, but thankfully Vil’s back was turned. They worked in silence, the sound of knives rhythmically tapping the cutting boards filling the kitchen. He sneaked a peek at Vil eventually while he debated asking his question (hopefully not a stupid one). It was appropriate, right? They were outside of class. At his birthday party even. So appropriate.
“Y’know, I’ve been a fan of your work since I was like, seven,” Cater started casually. Vil didn’t respond, but his partially raised eyebrow told Cater to get to the point. “And since it’s my birthday and all, I was wondering if we could snap a–”
“No, you may not get a photo with me to post on your social media,” Vil answered flatly. Cater’s shoulders slumped. Vil paused, the corners of his lips lifting. “But, since it is your birthday, I will indulge a commemorative selfie that can be posted on your private account. Don’t even think about posting it publicly.”
Cater immediately scrambled for his phone from his back pocket. “Deal! I’ll even DM you the photo later!”
He stretched his arm in front of him. Vil stepped into Cater’s space, his curls brushing against Cater’s face as he expertly tilted his head for the camera. Cater took the shot.
I just took a selfie with Vil Schoenheit! Cater celebrated internally, admiring the photo.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” a soft, deep voice cut through the kitchen. Vil and Cater stepped apart and turned their heads toward the voice.
Another powerful household name in his own right, Malleus Draconia stood at the threshold of the kitchen with a solemn expression. His formal wear clashed uncomfortably with the casual setting, but he showed no signs of discomfort. He imposed upon the kitchen, taller than even Vil in his heeled shoes.
“Is there anything I can assist with?” Malleus continued in a soft manner. “I’d hate to not be useful to a party I’ve been invited to.”
“Based on what I know, I doubt your upbringing involved much cooking experience,” Vil sarcastically said, turning back to the boiling pot of broth. “What can the Malleus Draconia do in the kitchen?”
“I can boil eggs.”
Vil snorted. Cater rubbed the ends of his hair between his fingers, letting out a nervous laugh.
“Uh, well, we don’t really need boiled eggs right now…Anything else you know how to do?”
Chop vegetables? Wash dishes? Boil the noodles?
Malleus now looked unsure, as if he’d been confident before that his egg boiling prowess would be needed.
“...I learned how to make an omelet last week. I can scramble them, too.”
So, like, just eggs?
Lilia’s devilish laughter came from behind Malleus. He stepped up to pat Malleus on the back in sympathy.
“Forgive Malleus here. He doesn’t have much experience in the kitchen, unlike me! Here, Cater, you shouldn’t be cooking on your birthday. Allow me to–”
“Actually, Lilia, I think Silver is calling for you,” Malleus interrupted quickly.
Lilia tilted his head. “He is? I don’t hear–”
“Yes, he sounds quite distressed. Let’s go see what he needs.”
Malleus gripped Lilia’s shoulders and steered him away from the kitchen, disallowing anything else Lilia had to say. Cater and Vil watched Lilia be dragged away.
Without knowing it (or perhaps he did know it), Malleus had just become the most helpful person in the kitchen–and quite possibly today’s hero.
Vil sighed, partly out of relief. “I don’t know how it aligned that my son would be in the same class as a child related to the Draconias. Not that I have anything against Silver, as strange as that child is. But perhaps I should have done what my father recommended and traveled with Epel for a year instead of immediately enrolling him into school.”
Cater smiled, always fascinated by the small bits of details his students’ parents sometimes dropped. “How is the kiddo outside of school? Last time he was talking about not getting the role…?”
Vil clicked his tongue in disgust. The chef’s knife slammed down a little harder on the next cut. “Yes. Neige LeBlanche’s son was offered the role instead. Not that Epel didn’t deserve the role; it was purely a bad judgment call on the director’s part. I’d even call bias, too. Epel’s performance was perfect, but LeBlanche’s son gets away with a missed line? It’s nonsense that they think his son looks more for the part than Epel–”
“Pa-a-a!”
The living room’s glass doors slid open. Small feet padded towards the direction of the kitchen.
“And that cheery smirk on his face last time? It absolutely infuriates me–”
“Pa! Pa-a!” Epel slid into the entrance, his face bright red with determination.
“Every time I see that man, it feels like I revert back to–”
“Pa!”
“What, Epel? What is it?” Vil growled, still entirely focused on chopping the remains of the zucchini, body heated from the conversation’s topic.
“Can I say a bad word! Please! Can I say it!”
“Yes, fine, as long as you don’t ruin your clothes!” Vil retorted absently.
Cater’s mouth opened. “Uh, wait, hold on–”
“Thank you!” Epel replied eagerly. The boy straightened, filled his lungs entirely with air, and shouted while sprinting back outside, “Ace, you motherfucking asshole!”
Vil’s shoulders went rigid. Carefully, he set the knife back down on the counter. Cater watched as he robotically grabbed a nearby towel and dried his hands.
“Excuse me,” he muttered and brushed past Cater with intent swiftness.
Cater winced as Vil’s sharp voice boomed throughout the house.
“Epel Felmier Schoenheit, what did you just say?”
The front of Trey’s house was not as empty as Cater had hoped when he went out there to take a breather. He found Riddle at the house’s stoop, engrossed in what seemed to be an important phone call. He considered going back inside to avoid eavesdropping, but Riddle turned on the stoop and made eye-contact. Riddle nodded in acknowledgement, and suddenly Cater was stuck in the awkward position of either scurrying back inside or waiting for Riddle’s phone call to end.
“This is not the appropriate time to have this conversation. No, you will not be seeing the boys this weekend. I told you–May we continue this conversation at a later time? I’m at an event. Goodbye,” Riddle ended the call tersely. His tired sigh came out in a white puff in front of him.
“Everything okay?”
“Hm? Oh, yes. I apologize for having to step out,” Riddle said while pocketing his phone. He climbed the few stairs of the stoop until he was at an even level with Cater. “I don’t think I’ve been able to properly congratulate you, today. Happy birthday, Cater.”
Cater smiled. “Thanks, Riddle. Who knew everyone would be so hyped for my birthday?”
“I don’t understand what ‘hyped’ means, but I don’t think it’s that surprising we showed up for your birthday,” Riddle replied with a half smile.
They stood side by side on Trey’s porch, overlooking Trey’s beautifully kept front yard. Cater noticed Riddle’s fingers tapping rhythmically against his thighs, consistent in a pattern Cater didn’t recognize. The silence between them was comfortable, having grown closer through Trey in the last couple of months.
“You know you don’t have to tell me,” Cater started, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just, are you sleeping, Riddle?”
“You’re asking a doctor if he’s sleeping?” Riddle chuckled humorlessly, but sobered quickly. “You and Trey are too similar sometimes. I’m fine. It’s only…” He trailed off, eyes distant. Cater began to edge away from the topic, a million other topics coming to mind to expertly evade the potentially awkward moment, but Riddle said next, “My mother. She’ll be in town.”
Cater didn’t know anything about Riddle’s mother, besides from passing articles about her on the Internet. He knew she was one the youngest women to become a surgeon in the country. He knew she had a powerful reputation in the healthcare industry. He knew she didn’t live anywhere near this town, and that Deuce and Ace never talked about a grandmother.
He also knew all about complicated relationships with mothers.
Cater stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked back onto his heels. Should he get involved? Should he pry?
“It’s nothing for you to be concerned about, Cater,” Riddle said with finality, as if reading Cater’s dilemma. “Like I said, I’m fine. Tell Trey that too, before I wring his neck for asking me the fifth time this week.”
“Aw, Trey’s just worried about you,” Cater replied, his tone forcefully changing the mood. He fiddled with his bangs, not looking at Riddle purposefully. “If you need extra support with the twins, let us know, yeah?”
“Of course,” Riddle said. “Let’s head back inside. The temperature is four degrees too low for us to be standing out here.”
“Wait! Before that, can we take a selfie?”
“A what?”
Cater stared at him. “A selfie? Y’know, a picture of us?”
“Oh. I don’t see the reason for it, but I suppose since it’s your birthday.”
“Sweet!”
They stepped back inside the house shortly after, the warm air hitting their red faces pleasantly. The kitchen was empty when they passed it on their way to the back of the house. Trey turned his head when they entered the living room, diverting his attention from what seemed to be–
Are Malleus Draconia and Leona Kingscholar arm wrestling? Cater observed incredulously.
“There you guys are,” Trey greeted with a tilt of his head. “Just in time. Vil said he’s got a bowl of ramen ready for you. The cake’s cooling on the rack, too.”
“Awesome,” Cater replied cheerfully. “What’s happenin’ here?”
A collective shout came from the group as Malleus finally slammed Leona’s arm down onto the coffee table. Trey winced at the loud sound it made, hoping his table would survive the occasion.
Leona snatched his hand away and shook off the residual sting. “Fuck! Your hand’s so damn sweaty, I didn’t want to touch it any longer.”
“What are you talking about, Kingscholar? My hand is dry,” Malleus replied smoothly. “If you wish, I can give you the advantage and we can do a rematch with my left hand.”
“Do you want to take this out to the yard, you bastard?”
“I’m going to have to veto that,” Trey chimed in. Then he turned to Cater, “It’s exactly what it looks like.”
“Pay up,” Ruggie demanded with a smug laugh, thrusting his hand towards Rook and Vil. “Easy money from two chumps.”
“Hah, Ruggie, you–”
“Easy, Leona! Just makin’ some easy cash, nothing personal.”
Vil cursed under his breath and handed Ruggie a crisp fifty. “The one time I put my faith in Leona, of course it was a wasted effort.”
Rook did the same. “It could have gone either way! What a beautiful performance.”
“Malleus looks slender, but he is quite strong,” Lilia said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “After all, I did train him.”
Train him in what? Cater rubbed a hand over his face. Was this really the best example to show the kids?
“How are the children?” Riddle inquired, pointedly ignoring the other adults. All six were still outside, engrossed in their own game. “They should come inside now. Ah, there’s one of mine.”
Just in time, Ace threw open the sliding door, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. He jerked his head behind him and cackled at whatever he saw and dashed indoors.
“You’ll never catch me-e-e!” Ace yelled, sprinting past the living room and down a hallway.
It turned out, what was behind Ace was Deuce. Deuce came rushing in next, his hand holding something that glinted even under the household light. Riddle froze.
“Deuce!” Riddle called anxiously. Deuce jerked his head up, eyes wide. “What’s that in your hand?”
Deuce grinned. He swung it around in front of him and proudly held it up. “A knife!” he yelled before sprinting down the same hall Ace ran in.
“No!”
Horrified, Riddle ran after him. Trey and Cater stared at the back of Riddle as he stumbled down the hall to capture Deuce with his hands. As they disappeared behind the corner, Cater sighed. He rubbed two strands of his hair between his fingers.
“What’s happening? I feel like I’m on an episode of whose line is it anyway, where ‘everything is made up and the points don’t matter.’”
Trey blinked, not understanding the reference. Still, he gave Cater a guilty look. “Sorry. It’s too much, isn’t it?”
“No way,” Cater replied, surprised by how much he meant it. He surveyed the rowdy bunch, taking in the fact the entire kindergarten group was gathered here, for this moment. He confessed, “More like, surprising? That everyone came for a birthday party.”
My birthday party, Cater thought with bewilderment.
Trey leaned to the side to bump shoulders with Cater. He smiled a kind smile, the winter light seeping through the windows softening his affectionate look.
“Isn’t that a good thing? It shows how important you are, Cater. Don’t overthink it."
Trey reached over the couch to snatch something from the side table. Cater suddenly felt something sit upon his head and Trey’s hair on his face as Trey adjusted the string around his chin. He then leaned back, eyes crinkling under his glasses, admiring the orange birthday hat. Cater blinked, hand coming up to lightly touch the hat.
“From all of us, happy birthday, Cater.”
