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In a way, Cater was an enigma, a very annoying enigma. The messy smile that Cater sometimes gave him when he had come back to their shared dorm room late from something Trey frustratingly didn’t know about. To ask would be weird, but he had to admit he got a dreadful feeling. His chest felt a tad heavy, and he was desperate to think of something else—anything else—and, instead of asking, looked back to the history notes he had managed to get down through Trein’s horribly dull voice. Notes that, eventually, his ginger-headed friend would ask for.
They didn’t share many classes, but he supposed that was most likely for the better. He’d probably get distracted by Cater, not only from his face, but generally how Cater nagged and talked to him the whole of the time in the classes they did share, since he did get bored so easily.
That made Trey frown. He wasn’t nearly as rambunctious as his friend, but whenever he really gave it some thought, he appreciated that he was just a regular person with regular thoughts and hobbies… well, besides his fascination with teeth, but that aside. Cater most likely needed someone to match his energy. Trey was boring.
Cater tapped, with a glittery red gel pen, on the notebook Trey was quickly jotting his thoughts down on as the professor spoke. His head swayed.
“Hey, yesterday’s notes…” Cater said in a somewhat hushed tone of voice that Trey had to admit, sent a small chill down his spine. He needed to get used to that. “I know. I left them out for you last night on your nightstand. You don’t pay much attention.” Which sounded more flat and harsh than he intended it to, honest, but it was a mutual understanding that was just somewhat how he spoke.
“You could have said something.” Cater pouted, his cheeks reddening at the tone his friend took—believing Trey was being unfair with a small jut of his lips.
His shoulders gestured from their previous position to face Cater, to his subject at hand. He didn’t miss much. Trein talked slowly. Seeing as how he had time—that he always did—due to his knack for quick understanding, he people- watched. What he usually did. There were students in lower desks sticking gum under their tables, Trey thought that was unnecessarily gross. His head regrettably, as it usually did, turned to secretly run his eyes over Cater’s familiar pale face.
He loved the contrast of Cater’s citrus hair, to his eyes that reflected fresh foliage, his fair skin, and the red diamond that shamelessly complimented him so well whenever he drew it on. Cater’s red gel pen gleamed under the sun light that was allowed in through the the thick curtains as if it were jewelry. Trey thought a lot of things about Cater were cute—down to the school supplies he was firm in using.
Everything about Cater was shiny.
He made sure his eyes returned to his notes and that his hands resumed their writing before Cater could notice.
* * *
Kneading dough was therapeutic, especially when there are things you’d rather not acknowledge that beating pre-pastry just made vanish. It was a shame he made pastries, since the diamond of his desire simply adored spicy foods. That didn’t matter now, though. He happily slid cakes and scones into an oven, while cutting a perfect slice of tart for his very cherished childhood friend.
He had rare free time in the shared dorm after his baking and dish duties were responsibly handled, which was never any good to him. It was heard from Riddle that Cater had apparently just been spending ‘beauty time’ with another friend of his, Vil, which eased Trey’s mind, and he hated that it did—and from his lying position in bed, he picked up an unimportant book from his own nightstand, before hearing the crack-ish and almost greased sound of his and his dormmate’s door.
”Have fun?” He asked, looking up from the book he was stolen from (not that he could complain) with a sarcastic smile. “What do you mean?” Asked in a piqued, higher voice, before Trey noticed an out-of-place bag was at Cater’s side. It’d be weird to ask. “Riddle told me about your social media escapades with your friends, or something like that.” Cater smiled oddly. “It’s more than that. Did you ever try to do your eyeliner like Riddle totally said you should?” Cater flicked his wrist cutely.
Trey raised an eyebrow.
* * *
He felt nimble hands brushing black under his eyelashes, and knees at either side of his waist, Cater’s hips resting on his lower torso. “I only do what I have to. Waking up a little more early than I should every day to draw a clover is already enough, and—I won’t even like this, Cater…” His cheek got smacked, ever so lightly. He liked Cater’s playful, feathery touch. The flat of his cheek burned and his stomach churned, desperate for more connection that he’d never get. “Oh, hush.” The way Cater teased was especially cute. Trey scoffed, and smiled up at him, one eye open. Seeing him above his face. Pretty, long-ish hair falling down around his cheeks. He didn’t understand why Cater tied it up in the back.
“Why do you like it, then? Take the time for it?” Cater absentmindedly pondered while working his hands tactfully and—in Trey’s opinion—admirably gently. “To be pretty,” he answered, looking down and pausing for just a small couple of seconds, but Trey noticed, Trey would notice.
Pretty? When he saw Cater in the morning, hair down, pale and clear skin more visible than ever, he thought that was more than pretty. He felt like a little boy getting the smallest bit flushed when he got to see morning Cater. Cater before fixing himself up for classes. As much as he knew it was a cliché, Cater didn’t need makeup. He was already breathtaking, enough to think about more than often when he was alone at night. He worried that Cater didn’t think so, but that wasn’t his responsibility to be concerned over. As much as he wanted it to be.
Trey opened the eye Cater had been working on, and speaking before Cater could protest, followed his question with another one. “Why?”
He looked down, puzzled, before his expression softened, something so far and vulnerable that Trey wanted to explore, but he watched as he capped the makeup article with a sort of finality. Trey moved his hand to the back of Cater’s head, feeling through the soft hair that was taken such good care of. He wanted to make this moment intimate, but he didn’t know why. His hand felt like it was moving on it’s own and his heart felt caged.
He didn’t understand why he wanted Cater’s face to be so suffocatingly close. “Do you think I’m pretty?” His friend whispered down, hushed, in the way Trey was so weak to. The sun was setting outside. It was definitely getting late. Trey pulled Cater’s head down gingerly, and Cater let him, sighing against his nose, bracing himself on either sides of Trey, before he felt his lips make contact with the pair below him.
Trey thought of how soft his skin was, and how hot his own cheeks were, feeling a curling want redistribute it’s way across his body, and with Cater on top of him, it wasn’t helping.
He felt his tongue ask for entrance from the deity he was allowed to be touching above, before widening his jaw just the smallest bit more, other hand resting onto Cater’s cheek, pulling hair behind his ears. The adulation of their tongues exploring each other’s mouths, the way that he now knew how the underside of Cater’s tongue felt was exhilarating, and strangely relieving. He didn’t realize how titillated he had become.
He was touching Cater—beautiful, lovely Cater. He felt his lips against this pretty boy’s own, and it was unreal. Trey had a fever, and even if this was a fluke, he would remember this moment for the rest of his life.
From above, Cater pulled his mouth away, spotting each other’s spit on their chins. Then he began sitting up more properly and peered behind him. “Trey?”
The way Cater shifted didn’t help, as Trey had to bite down on his bottom lip to stifle the groan that almost bubbled from his throat.
Panic, and shame, and downright fear fell over his provoked body. He solicitously moved underneath his friend, swallowing hard. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out. Cater interjected.
“No, it’s my fault, I’m sorry I just totally made you make out with me.” Anybody could tell Cater was just as panicked and insecure, anybody but Trey Clover.
“You didn’t,” the words hurriedly stammered out with little thought to the admittance. Cater swallowed wishfully. “I can— er, help you. Then we can forget about all of this, right?” The last part was rushed, and hellishly stuttered, and Trey, with a hard-on, was too humiliated and upset to process the prospect of what his friend was insinuating.
Trey’s eyes widened, while sweat formed on his brow and he tried to look anywhere but at Cater. His pants tightened, and suddenly his lower region was incredibly interested in the conversation they were having. Cater smiled awkwardly, chuckling to himself lightly while waiting for Trey’s brain processes to catch up.
“Oh—yes. Thanks, that’s—nice of you? Yes, let’s forget it ever happened.” He sputtered out, hands beginning to twitch from contained excitement. How could Cater even offer something like this? Trey didn’t even know if his brain was at a complete halt or running at 4,000 miles a second.
Cater nodded, his cheeks tinted red.
While brushing his hips up and over Trey’s issue, Trey nearly, nearly missed the soft mewl Cater allowed to escape when his tent was rubbed comfortably against the nook of his friend’s legs, before Cater settled his face against Trey’s problem, delicate hands unbuttoning Heartslabyul uniform pants.
The visual of the pretty boy below him on his bed, pressing his face against his cock being held in his pants like it was something he really, really needed. Trey’s breath hitched in his throat. He could feel his heart pounding as he looked away in shame, to a corner of the ceiling in their dorm.
“How do you like it?” Cater asked, tucking a curl behind his ear. Cute. Trey scoffed, embarrassed. “I—I don’t know.” More expectant than bashful, and now it was time for Cater to widen his own eyes.
”I’ve never gotten a blowjob before.” Trey admitted with little issue, his arousal spurring him to speak with adrenaline before noticing a trace of something content, or proud, maybe giddy, in Cater’s eyes. He’d think about that later. “We’ll… find out what you like then.”
Trey felt himself get even bigger beneath his boxer briefs at the notion, nodding mechanically, lowly groaning as Cater managed to pull down the last layer he needed to, hearing his friend gasp softly.
“You’re… thick. Don’t, like… be upset if it doesn’t all fit.” Cater cleared his throat. He nodded, muttering an apology before humming at the tender fingers wrapping around his base to get him started.
This was much more amazing than he could have imagined. The manicured hand rubbing him in different fashions to see what made his toes curl the most, watching Cater fumble to metaphorically find his footing with Trey, watching Trey’s face unravel into something wanton.
It was all so shocking—Cater was slutty? No, he’d never. Trey worried his lip, for he really hoped not. He wanted to be the only person in the world Cater looked at. This was too hot to be having this thought process, and he was too hard and dripping to care.
When he found it appropriate, Cater opened his mouth. The man above fought for his breath. The visuals, again, were better than anything Trey thought up when he was palming himself alone at night. Cater began alternating between sucking and licking Trey’s swollen head. Soft, then harder, to see what Trey liked the most, and as Trey watched himself fill Cater’s mouth to his hilt, he whimpered loudly. Cater swallowed him whole and Trey was already so close.
He saw Cater’s hands flat against the plain of his front torso, while he worked his tongue up and down, hallowing his cheeks and engaged in his indecent task. He watched as Cater’s nose buried itself in his trimmed green pubic hair as far as he could go, to swallow hard and look up at Trey.
He gripped at Cater’s hair, while balling it in his fist. Trey made eye contact with the man below him, before silently rutting himself to the back of the warm heat around him. Cater’s eyes welled, then he let out a wet, desperate gag noise that made Trey groan loudly to himself, before he realized what he was doing in the haze of his need and excitement.
He stuttered. “Sorry—are you alright? Did I hurt you? Uh, do you want water?” He released his grip, to which Cater whined in response to, coughing when removing his mouth. “It hurt in a good way, don’t worry. Whatever gets you to finish the fastest, am I right?”
Cater glanced up at Trey with something completely unknown, before wrapping his mouth around Trey once more, while taking Trey’s hands and placing them at the back of his own ginger head. He was just begging for Trey. He gave himself up so easily. Trey’s hands shook while he accepted this new side of his friend, sighing as he entered back into Cater’s welcoming mouth.
He was so insanely aroused at the idea of watching his friends mascara make streaks beneath his face as he rammed into his mouth. Trey took his hair once more, before thrusting up into Cater’s mouth as quickly and as roughly as he desired, feeling his climax very healthily approach him, moaning out a deep, repressed growl as he kept Cater’s head in place, panting loudly into the air of their shared place of safety.
He felt heated ropes of release slip away from him while he shoved Cater’s head down to choke on him, as deep as he could get himself, grunting.
It set into him what had happened. His post clarity made him shy.
He released his hold on the back of his friends head, watching him pull his mouth off. His mind short-circuited at the sound of a swallow from below him.
”You didn’t need to do that.” His lips flattened into a line. “I know. Spitters are quitters, though!” Cater grinned, forcing a giggle through his choke from the treatment his throat endured. “Rate my performance. Totally not bad for your first blowie, right?”
Trey grimaced. He hadn’t ever thought about how Cater would behave after sexual activity, but if he did, this would definitely be about on par with his realistic imagination of it.
”Hey, what’s with the look? Don’t tell me it was bad!” Cater half-yelled and half-whined, while Trey remarked, rubbing Cater’s runny makeup askew with his thumb. “It was really good.”
His friend smiled. He pulled himself away, wiping at his mouth, voice course. “Good.” Cater slung himself off of Trey’s bed, presumably to clean himself up in the restroom.
Trey told himself to forget all about it, just as they agreed.
* * *
Cater made that difficult. Whenever they were alone, he had no issue stepping out of their bathroom with only his red briefs on, Trey feasting his eyes on the meal of Cater’s hips, and his standardly supple behind. Trey, at first, never dared to hazard a glance, but he had gotten more daring.
Even one day, watching as Cater pulled his diamond-checkered pajama pants up to his waist, committing the picture to his memory for later that night, when it was just him and his hand.
Trey was undeniably bashful about his liking to Cater. He didn’t want to jump into any sort of label for it, only something like, “my friend is cute, and he gave me my first blowjob” was the barrier of thoughts.
He had set a boundary and a line for whenever him and Cater were innocently talking about his Magicam, or something of Trey’s recipes, when Cater’s lips looked so lonesome. He knew how he felt about Cater. He wouldn’t speak of it in his mind or aloud. He thought of it as being mature, not acting like a pre-teen in love and not telling everyone around you about your feelings for someone.
He knew it was denial, which made him deny even more, alone, remembering his friend’s red boxers, remembering the way his piercing jingled a bit when he was bobbing his spit-shined lips over his needy cock, remembering the excited and oh-so-happy-to-be-sucking-Trey’s-dick look on Cater’s face.
Feelings belonging to his friend weren’t thought about. He was so pretty, so enamoring. The presence Cater brought to a room would never match his, and what did Trey ever have to offer other than a cookie that Cater would probably throw away.
It was difficult to get off when you were masturbating to the thought of your cute friend blowing you a week ago, which was hot, but then started thinking about things like how inadequate you were. Trey let out an aggravated sigh, tucking his boner back into his pajama pants, before gasping at the curtain of his bed being lifted.
Cater tucked a curl behind his ear. Cute, pretty, and coy. As always.
He was smiling, tiredly, but very happily. “Do you need some help?” He began, already starting to move toward settling on top of Trey.
He shook his head, staring with a gasp at the realization of Cater’s movement. “No—no, I’m alright. I’m sorry I woke you up. Ugh, this is…” Cater looked dejected, which made Trey even more confused and floundering. Trey hated that look on Cater’s face. Do whatever you want with me as long as it means I get to keep seeing you smile, Cater.
Slurring a bit, Cater pressed, to Trey’s surprise. “You’re frustrated. It might help if you… felt another warm body other than your own. Know what I mean, babe?”
He often spoke like that, Trey knew, and often times it was annoying, but right now it was pressing all the right buttons. So, he nodded. Who on Earth was he to refuse such an enticing offer?
“The, uh, one time thing.” Trey pointed out.
”It can be a two-time thing.” He pressed his side against Trey’s, becoming comfortable next to him. He set his neck on Trey’s shoulder, hand wandering down to rub at Trey’s groin.
Trey swallowed.
”Let’s, just… make it fast. Get it over with.”
Cater nodded, sighing by Trey’s ear, carefully removing Trey’s tool from his boxers while Trey aided him in shimmying them down a bit lower.
Cater started whispering, lowly, so wantonly. “Trey, is this what you get up to when I’m asleep?” His hand began with a thumb and index, stroking softly to evenly distribute the pre-cum beading at his tip.
His hips twitched, and one of his hands gripped his sheets in an attempt to stabilize his emotions. “It’s the polite way to do things,” he managed to stutter out through his low moans, panting as his friend whispered, breathed heavily, and occasionally lightly moaned into his ear. Cater sped up his pace, barely smirking as he stroked.
“You’re always sooo polite. Does it feel good, Trey? Is my handjob totally getting you close?”
Trey groaned out in annoyance, sighing in frustration. He didn’t know if he loved or hated the way Cater spoke, but he did hate that it made his dick so hard. He managed to hum out, “Feels really good. Could you pump it?” His hips involuntarily began to love Cater, thrusting into his hand as it got wetter and wetter.
Trey was severely overwhelmed, and it was perfect. Cater next to him, giving him the handjob of his life, while he whispered into his ear, making him feel hot and needy all over. If this kept up, he would seriously have no problem coming all over Cater’s pretty hands, having been tipped over in front of him once more.
Moans escaped both, but Cater did his best to contain his, while Trey pondered if he should do the same, before exhaling a broken growl. “Coming, fuck, oh fuck,” It all felt so fantastic. His spurt shot backward onto him and Cater. Trey made a bummed out face at the fact. “Sorry…” He rubbed the back of his neck, noticing that his forehead was wet and he had been sweating profusely in the midst of their altercation.
”Chill, babe. It’s all good.” Cater reached his hand out to rub Trey’s shoulder. It was reassuring, and Trey melted from it, letting his eyes close slowly. It was so late. Everyone was asleep, just how he should be. He felt Cater probably give himself reprieve by relaxing back onto his own bed, humming with what Trey could only describe as satisfaction.
* * *
Trey had came back from club to help Riddle. He was his childhood friend, after all. Trey always found solace in baking, and baking with someone he was close with was even better.
He enjoyed teaching Riddle how to make those strawberry tarts he adored so much, showing Riddle how to insert the crust properly, the secret behind how his strawberry filling was so sweet, yet perfectly savory. Him and Riddle had been mixing their filling in a bowl, smiling and speaking quietly to each other.
They very much enjoyed their company, as it was relieving from the various stresses of their lives.
Trey jumped. He saw a familiar ginger in the kitchen doorway, and it startled him, before he noticed Riddle had been much ahead of him, waving politely.
Cater smiled, delayed, as if his brain had been fogged before the facial expression. He spoke, “Sooo sorry to interrupt you guys. Wasn’t on purpose, y’know? I was just wondering where Trey was, since he wasn’t in the dorm.”
His eyes and hands gestured to the aforementioned man, before he waved in the cheerful way he always did with one hand, turning and curling his hair with the other. “Bye-bye!” He sing-songed. Trey secretly stared at Cater’s hips as he sashayed away.
Trey looked to Riddle. “How long had he been there?” He implored. Riddle tapped his chin. “I’d say quite a while. I hadn’t noticed until a little before you did, though. I’m glad he went back to his dorm before he broke rule 411…” Riddle concluded, smiling. Trey followed suit, before they both continued their work, and casual conversation just as they began.
A baker’s arms could get extremely tired. Trey was quite exhausted by the time he made it back to his dorm, arms settled at his side while he yawned out. It had been a month since Cater and him had their “two-time” thing, and he couldn’t lie to himself—god how he missed it.
Cater had only gotten more enticing as time went on, face and body even more beautiful than ever, personality more cheerful and warm than before, and, so, so sexy. Trey wanted—no, needed—to initiate a third time to their two-time-thing.
He was disappointed in himself at how frequently he had begun thinking of Cater during his nighttime rituals.
He fell asleep soundly, knowing Cater was in the bed across the room from him.
* * *
That morning, he had alchemy with Cater first thing, and Trey liked alchemy. Cater did not, and always attempted to cheat off of Trey the best he could.
At first, he asked Trey for help, but later on, they both realized it was a pretty lost cause. Trey remembered this when they were partners in a chemical experiment with plants. Something from the beginning of their first year that they would re-attempt now.
“I remember when I tried to help you with these plant imbalances. At the beginning of our second ever semester.” Trey spoke softly, as if him and Cater were the only two people in the room, or the world, even.
“You were cute when you had no idea what to do. That was a while ago, huh?” Cater’s eyes widened a bit, and red rushed to his cheeks. “I was totally not. I was a loser, to be honest… It was so lame.” Cater swatted the idea away, shaking his head. He wasn’t the same, it was true, and neither was Trey.
“I know. I’m not saying it’s bad. It’s good that you’re so forward… er, confident now.” He mused, tapping a powder onto his stray leaf.
Cater’s breath hitched, and Trey was much too preoccupied to notice or care. “You’ve gotten louder, Trey. I think it’s pretty awesome you’re not as dead silent… Getting words out of you was sort of a hassle before, y’know.”
Trey paused. He did remember that. He remembered becoming friends with Cater. Helping Cater and sharing a dorm with him. He had always brought Cater’s antics to a manageable level, as he did with most people, and Cater had always tried to get him to be more outgoing.
“Oh, yeah. I still like you, though.” Trey’s brain halted, speaking without a net to fall back on, before he carefully devised what to say to defuse any misconceptions Cater might form.
”Totes! We’re still friends now, so, you’d better.” He chuckled, before picking up his book of instructions and continuing his part of their project. Cater was right. They were friends. They would never want to ruin that. Who knows what else it could affect, too. How they were perceived by the student body was another horrible idea.
Trey remembered fondly Cater’s excited voice inviting him out with other Heartslabyul students, the small “oh, c’mon!”s and “it’ll be fun”s he always added. Cater had gotten much less childish, now.
He got his ears pierced, and he learned that he didn’t need to fill silence with his voice, something he had experienced with Trey, and, now, how beautiful he had kept getting.
They were quizzed on their assignment, and did solidly. A grade Trey was very satisfied with.
* * *
That night had been very intriguing. Trey returned from his alchemy club activities to their dorm later that day, viewing a dimly lit candle on Cater’s nightstand with a puzzled look, before smelling a foreboding sort of musk.
He set his things down by the foot of his bedframe, settling onto the edge of his bed. He looked over to the other side of the room as he conversed with Cater.
“O-M-G, Trey, you won’t believe it!” Cater beamed, twirling a curl of orange hair in between two of his fingers. “I, like, stopped by Sam’s shop and got that candle from our first week of dorming together. I remembered from our cute little trip down memory lane this morning.”
Cater had his hair down, and it swayed as he was rocking a leg back and forth in a giddy sort of mood. Sometimes, Cater was still immature. But, God, when he looked like this, Trey thought.
That was right. Trey laughed at the silly name of the candle Cater bought, snorting at how a smell could be described as something so stupefying.
Trey nodded. “I thought it smelled familiar.” He looked to his side with a sort of awareness. He didn’t want the conversation to end, and even though he spoke with a sort of finality, he was sure Cater knew that. He did.
It came with having had talked so much in their years of knowing each other. Cater learned that at some times, Trey would like to keep talking, but wasn’t sure what to say, or didn’t want to say anything, instead wanting Cater to continue speaking, which he had no problem doing.
He got accustomed to Trey’s certain gestures or expressions when that was the case, as well as how he acted when he did, in fact, want to stop talking.
”Totally. You said something about how the name of the the smell was like—corny. Y’know? I hadn’t even realized.” Cater absentmindedly picked up a red, diamond-shaped compact mirror from his desk, checking his eye makeup quickly as to not seem too vain. Trey nodded again, smiling fondly at the thought.
Cater started, “Anyway, what’d you get up to in your first year? Ooh, anyone you liked in particular?”
Cater asked, entertained enough to set his compact down. He lightly bit the tip of his finger with a mischievous look. “You seemed so standoffish.”
Trey hummed, stunned by the sudden nature of their change in topic, but used to it when it came to Cater. He thought of his first year, shaking his head. “No, not really. You know that. I didn’t think I had time for that sort of stuff, to be honest. I was plenty occupied, too. Being designated baker as soon as I proved able in the kitchen, and all. You can’t say the same for yourself, though.”
Trey laughed to himself with an edge of sly. “Always hanging around those Pomefiore boys,” muttering knowingly.
Cater pursed his lips, scoffing and crossing his arms over his chest in a playfully angry manner. “Hey, you’re making it sound like I was totally loose!” Trey straightened his glasses, before standing up from his side of the room, and moving towards Cater, towering over him.
He swallowed his anxiousness and placed his hands on Cater’s shoulders, pushing them down with minimal force. He opened his mouth as his knee found it’s way to the crux of Cater’s semi-spread legs. It raised up, rubbing. This was it. His advance that he’d thought about for way too long.
He wasn’t sure how Cater would feel about it, if he would be repulsed and push Trey off. Or, maybe he would be weirded out, or feel forced, but he had already decided not to let his thoughts eat away at him. “Weren’t you?” He asked, a deadly, and, to Cater, ground-breakingly arousing look plastered all over his face.
Trey watched as a tent formed in Cater’s school uniform, his hands coming up to cover parts of his face. His breathing’s pace quickened. He spread his legs wider and oh, so easily. His hands moved to settle onto Trey’s defined upper-chest. He bit his lip. Trey didn’t know how he should feel. Was it hot that Cater might be a slut or utterly demotivating?
“Of course not. Don’t be mad, Trey…” Cater lightly whimpered out at the end of his trail-off sentence, looking to the side, hoping Trey would enjoy this, and, maybe even play along.
He let out a frustrated grunt, free hand moving Cater’s face back to look at him while his other was pinned to Cater’s side. “Look at me when you tell me. Tell me the truth. How can I know?”
Trey half moaned out the last part, feeling how Cater’s hands had wandered down to his hard-on, and were palming it from below him. “I’m not a whore, Trey. I’m not…” Cater whined while Trey’s strong arms lifted his legs to pull his pants off.
He didn’t bother with Cater’s top half. He would, but, that was surely too intimate. Even if Cater was into the sex, Trey shouldn’t assume that Cater liked him that way.
“I don’t believe you. Coming back to the dorm dolled up in the evenings.” Trey backed up, hastily making his way to open his drawer and retrieve his condoms and lube. After haphazardly tossing what he needed next to Cater on the ginger’s bed, he took Cater’s wrists in one of his hands, holding them above his head, and palmed the bulge in Cater’s diamond-patterned boxers.
“You’re the… the one with condoms and lube.” Trey sneered. “I’m just prepared.”
Cater clicked his tongue. “Oh, please, I’m sure you’ve had Ri… Ah—” Trey wasn’t sure what he had said before he got cut off, and he was far too horny to care. He had managed to get his own pants off, beginning to grind his underwear-clothed erection against Cater’s.
“Cater, oh my, ugh, you feel so fucking good.” Below him, he whined out in broken variations of Trey’s name. “You’re so pretty, Cater. Am I allowed to…?” Cater furiously nodded, feeling himself already incredulously worked up. “Yes, yes, please… you’re so handsome, Trey. I want you to touch me, God, please.”
Trey was losing his patience, and hurriedly yanked Caters underwear off, throbbing at the visual of his wet tip. Then, he realized how debauched Cater looked. He needed Trey. He needed Trey inside of him, using him. He needed to relieve Trey. He was absolutely fucking begging for it. He nudged down his underwear just enough to free himself, groaning at the feeling of the cold air.
”Here, I’ll help you with your condom.” Cater sat on his knees, opening the packet with his sharp teeth that Trey found so sexy, and rolling it onto Trey with a pleased expression.
This somehow felt… intimate. So tender, and it made Trey the hottest he’d ever been through anything between the two. “You don’t need to—”
“I know.”
Trey nodded.
He had Cater get onto his front, hips in the air and already ahead of Trey in prepping himself with lube. Trey watched in anticipation, freaking out at the notion of watching Cater literally fucking himself, panting lightly as his cock rested against Cater’s behind, perking up when Cater set both arms in front of himself. “Ready.”
Trey hummed, his body moving forward, hissing as his tip entered with some retaliation. “You’re so big. You feel so good, Trey…” Cater was shaking beneath him.
Trey gripped onto Cater’s hips hard enough to bruise. “You’re such a… good whore, Cater.” Trey mumbled, leaning down. He thought to himself, a bite from him would look so good on Cater’s neck. He wasn’t thinking very straight. He didn’t know if Cater had hickeys or not, but if he did, all of them would be overwritten by his. He would make sure he was all Cater thought about.
He was so lust-driven. He needed to drill it into Cater that he would be the best fuck he ever had. Then again, maybe Cater wasn’t lying. What if this was Cater’s first time? It wasn’t Trey’s. He’d had one or two Pomefiore guys come back to his room. Trey would have no idea.
Maybe he should have been more assuring. No, there was no way a pretty, skilled mouth like Cater’s hadn’t been around the block. That aside, Cater almost screamed under Trey at his remark, arching his back and causing Trey to slip out.
“Uhn, I know it’s exciting, Cater, but stay still. So I can fuck you like the… good whore you are, yeah?” Cater mewled, nodding and readying himself. “S—Sorry. You’re just really hot, Trey. Totally don’t be afraid to get rough with me. I know you’re a softie.” Trey blushed at his comment, sighing. “You do know that.”
He began pushing in again, fervently, reaching his hand into Cater’s hair to pull it roughly, which made Cater an absolute mess as Trey bottomed out into him with a thrust of finality. “You’re all in, ugh. Oh my god, Trey.” Trey sucked in a breath. He gripped Cater’s hair hard, and his hip even harder, before slamming into Cater again. He chose to go slow and hard, so that each of his thrusts were controlled and effective.
Cater absolutely couldn’t take it. Trey’s glasses were fogging, but he could still see Cater, watch Cater being filled by him, and that was all that mattered at the moment.
Trey couldn’t believe he was railing Cater, and he visibly couldn’t believe he was getting railed by Trey. Trey picked up his pace, pulling Cater’s hair harder, thrusting into his friend with even less mercy, before he heard something unique among Cater’s many pleasured callouts.
“Fuck, yes, Trey! Right there! Yes!” With a little more effort, he rammed into Cater’s spots that had him seeing stars, releasing a suppressed moan that had been sitting in his throat. He bent over to mumble into Cater’s ear while he continued thrusting into him, the lascivious sounds echoing throughout their room, with Cater muffling his melodious screams into his pillow.
Trey watched as his sexy best friend of three years was being completely undone from his very own cock, watching him drool into his pillow and arch his back. He wished he had entered Cater raw, to fully feel his tight hold around his needy cock.
“Damn it, Cater. Take my cock like a good slut.” Cater looked over his shoulder to look at Trey. His strong build seasoned by baking and his angered face. He was fucking Cater like he hated him. Cater thought he probably did.
“Yes, yes, yes, Trey—” Cater yelped, gripping the sheets below his chest when he felt Trey make a handprint on his ass. “More! I’m such a slut, Trey!” Trey hissed, tugging on Cater’s hair and hitting his behind again, before focusing on his thrusts once more.
“Close.” Trey whined out.
Trey tightened everything of his, as fast and as hard as he could, chasing his release as Cater let out a broken groan of conclusiveness, Trey taking a deep breath and feeling himself load his condom to it’s brim. His head was spinning. He, technically, just came in his extremely hot friend. “Cater…”
He collapsed above Cater, weakly holding himself up by his arms, before slowly pulling out and situating himself straightly back onto Cater’s bed. Trey realized that the area of release beneath Cater was oddly large. “Did you…?”
Cater nodded, resting on his stomach. Coming twice without even announcing it must have meant Cater was ridiculously tired. Trey and Cater lie together catching their breath.
“So, wanna know if I’m actually a slut?” He looked at Cater. Trey grimaced. “I have a feeling I wouldn’t enjoy it.”
The ginger rolled his eyes. “Relax, I have standards. Maybe in our second year I could be considered one.” Trey felt his heart get heavy, like it would fall out of him. It stung badly, like he wanted to run away and throw up his stomach contents somewhere secluded.
“Now?” He inquired, looking to Cater for an honest answer. “Once in a while. Now, since I’m getting so famous on Magicam, I have to be a clean girl. I also like quality over quantity… Not sure. You? Was that your first time, big man?”
He shook his head in response, sighing. “I’ve had sex maybe twice. You’re still a skank, Cater.” He gasped, jokingly offended. “Ugh! Ruude. Treytor at it again!” They both chuckled silently, Trey desperately attempting not to think about newfound information, itching his stomach and silently conversing with his friend, later on heading to the bathroom first to start cleaning up.
Trey examined himself in the mirror. His clover was running from sweat. Leaning into the reflective glass and rubbing at his eyes, he let out a frustrated sigh into his hands, knocking his glasses askew into the sink.
Why did that happen? What did this mean? Were he and Cater a thing now? It felt so amazing. Not just the fact that Trey was so horribly touch-starved and adored the feeling of a beautiful, warm body to handle beneath him, but because it was Cater. It felt like Cater, and it was Cater’s voice and smell. He almost felt himself get brick-hard again at the visual of Cater’s ass as he pounded into him. Having sex with Cater was so good. Cater was so good.
He heard a light knock on the door, and a familiar warm, oddly soft voice. ”Hey, Trey? Want to wash up together? It’ll be fun.” It’ll be fun.
Let’s go out together with them, Trey! It’ll be fun!
Trey grimaced at the memory.
He thought to himself. He wanted to stay friends with Cater for as long as he possibly could. Cater was probably only being nice. It was the courteous thing to do. Cater didn’t have to do that. He wanted to shower together. He wanted to kiss Cater and talk to him about anything and everything. He wanted to listen to Cater talk about his sisters, or whatever Magicam celebrity controversy was surfacing.
“No. I’m alright. Thanks, though.” Trey thought he made the right decision.
“Oh. Okay. That’s totally cool.”
Trey showered. The sear of the hot water woke him up, and helped him feel much better.
* * *
That was how it all started-their complicated relationship. Cater sometimes approached, Trey sometimes approached, and it ended with sex. It was clear to each other they loved their physical relationship, but Trey knew Cater had many suitors that were most likely very decorous for him.
Trey went so soft for Cater, and tried to help him out as often as he could during their friendship while still maintaining his youthful taciturn and looking out for himself. He adored Cater, but held all of his friends to a standard he knew they could meet, like encouraging Cater to study more. He knew Cater had the brain and memory to keep up with the latest trends, what colors didn’t go with leopard print, and how to skillfully do basic eyeliner in almost 20 seconds flat. He timed him.
He knew Cater didn’t think about things like that when it came to him, which was definitely proof enough how skewed their arrangement was. He hadn’t been reading his book now, just starting at the pages as he thought, before a half-naked Cater emerged from the bathroom. Trey gulped. Cater only had on his pyjama bottoms. He waltzed his way into Trey’s bed, crawling over him. Trey never had an issue getting hard with Cater around.
“Trey, are you busy? … You’re already pitching a tent, wow! I’m so…” He tossed his book aside. The plot could wait. He only made a little grunt before pinning Cater onto his back, and peppering kisses on his neck, downward, eager.
It wasn’t like they were after taking their time, it was really only the sex. It was only about that. He told himself he’d never get tired of the face Cater made when he was being doted upon, ravaged like he was treasure for a pirate to enjoy to his full extent. “I know.” Trey froze, realizing hickeys were on Cater that he didn’t remember leaving.
His heart sank. He did a double-take, and Cater groggily opened his eyes and frowned due to his lack of stimulation. “Where’d you get these ones?” Trey motioned in a flat voice. Cater looked awkward.
“A guy. It doesn’t really matter, though. It was just a one-time-thing. Why?” Trey raised his eyebrow. If Trey and him were supposedly a ‘one-time-thing’ at first, then? He blinked. Cater’s head tilted.
“Nothing. I forgot what I was going to say.” Trey resumed, sighing internally to himself before continuing his exploration, licking over Cater’s excited nipples. Cater absolutely shook.
Was Trey really just roommate mancandy? Did Cater only have sex with him because it was convenient? Cater did have really high standards, he didn’t really date anybody because of it, so Trey was logically a fool to think he could fulfill those expectations. He only just now knew, but he was fiercely tearing up.
Trey panicked. It would be fine, Cater couldn’t see him. Cater couldn’t open his eyes.
Trey was still wearing his school uniform. He paused very quickly to yank off his tie.
”Lift your head—and keep your eyes shut.” He commanded with gentle force, attempting to control his voice from shaking, Cater obliging. Trey sniveled quietly. He was full-blown crying, and he couldn’t stop. He didn’t understand why, either. He wrapped his tie around Cater’s eyes, Cater biting his lip in anticipation.
Had Cater been tied up like this before? The fucking devil of a man that did it if it was true. Trey did think they were somewhat exclusive. Not dating, but only having sex with each other. Suffice to say, Trey wasn’t really hard anymore. He was still going to prove to Cater how good he could be, though.
His hands approached Cater’s wasitband, pulling slowly. Torturously slow. It made Cater whine, and that was when Trey knew to quit teasing. It was what he was aiming for. Cater needed it like this, because Cater was a whore.
When his mouth was wrapped around Cater’s pretty, dribbly cock, Trey let all of his tears spill, since his mouth was full and therefore he wouldn’t be able to make any sobbing noises. He felt Cater’s soft and warm hand applying the gentlest pressure on his head, Cater shaking, being sucked out of his mind completely.
Cater was loud during sex, Trey learned, so he often had to cover Cater’s mouth before Ace or Deuce, or, God forbid, Riddle found out about their arrangement.
Cater’s moans muffled into Trey’s palm, thrusting into Trey’s mouth in need, looking his happiest when Trey was fucking him in any capacity. Trey tasted Cater, and he needed more. He sucked until his throat hurt, and swallowed over Cater in anticipation for his release. “Trey—I’m!” Cater shouted, lifting Trey’s head off of his cock, eagerly finishing himself on Trey’s face.
Cater panted, removing the tie from his eyes with a free hand and smiling. Trey had been mainly on autopilot for a bit, almost the whole course of him blowing Cater, so the revelation that he came on his face didn’t hit until a couple seconds afterward. Cater didn’t think anything of Trey’s tears, since that was a normal reaction from gagging. Cater had it, too.
”You look so hot, Trey.” Cater commented wantingly, smirking. Trey’s lips formed a line. He was over it now, for sure. “Well, now you got your come in my hair. You could have warned me.” He scoffed, sternly boring his eyes into Cater.
“But you’re, like, totally fun when you’re like this. Can I take a pic? You don’t mind, right? I love painting your face. Way more than painting roses.” Trey rolled his eyes. “No. Now go wash yourself or something while I wipe this off of me.” The ginger laughed, nodding and lifting himself up.
Trey groaned, wiping semen off of his glasses was not how he’d imagined spending his afternoon, but he felt better. Having sex with Cater actually made him feel amazing, it was everything after and besides it that made him think badly.
His phone rang, and he quickly cleaned himself with wet wipes, sanitizer, and tissues for the time being. “Hey, Riddle. What’s up?” Riddle cleared his throat over the other end of the phone, before composing his voice.
“Trey, I have something I must discuss with you. Will you meet me at Mostro Lounge in fifteen minutes?” Trey’s eyes widened, and he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, lifting his glasses upward his face in the process.
“Fifteen? Riddle, on such short notice, I couldn’t… ah, well, for you, I guess, but could it be twenty?” Riddle hummed on the other side of the speaker. “That will suffice. I’ll see you soon.”
Cater opened the bathroom door, looking worried. Apparently, he had heard everything through the wall. Which worried Trey since he sometimes masturbated in the shower.
“What was that about?” Cater looked anxious. For what reason, Trey had no idea. “I’m not sure. I’d better get going, though, right? Wouldn’t want to lose my head.” Trey chuckled, making for the door of their dorm to leave before Cater gripped his wrist, Trey giving him a puzzled look. “Uh, hello?”
His hand gripped a bit more firmly. “You don’t have to leave to see Riddle yet, we can finish things up here first, right?” Cater forced a smile rather well. Trey had seriously no idea what his issue was. It started to get a little annoying. “Why are you acting like…? Well, I would like to, but I’m the vice-housewarden, Cater. I have to go.”
Trey made one last furrowed brow before focusing on the handle of the exit in front of him, jerking his wrist from Cater and shutting their dorm door behind him. He sighed, straightening his uniform properly, re-applying his tie and breathing in. Cater was surely acting odd, but he didn’t have the time nor the energy to worry about that.
Usually after having sex with Cater, he liked to lay down and contentedly sigh to himself while he remembered everything they did together. They never did do missionary, though. That was one of Trey’s biggest fantasies. He longed for the day they would get to see each other reach their peaks together. That would be too intimate, though, wouldn’t it?
Well, now wasn’t the time to think about their sex. He unfortunately had to cut his clarity session off due to his best friend.
Trey combed through the tops of his hair, making sure he looked at least somewhat decent. The last thing he wanted would be Riddle pointing out dry semen in his hair or strays on his cheek. A nightmare situation.
He hurriedly made his way to Mostro Lounge and eventually sat down with Riddle to converse over what turned out to be a non-major issue. Evidently the housewarden needed aid in speaking to one of the Leech twins regarding a personal matter. Trey didn’t know many of the details.
It made sense to come to him, though. They both had issues understanding other people’s emotions, but Trey much less of the two. They both knew it, too, and were already so close. Over a couple of drinks and avoiding some frankly rude and assuming stares, Riddle had gotten exactly what he needed from the conversation, meaning he told Trey to head back to the dorms, which he had no problem doing. Him and Riddle got along very easily.
By the time Trey had gotten back, he yawned from not having his time to himself and having to travel across a couple of campuses to get to the Octavinelle area and back. His legs were stiff, and he just wanted to lay down, maybe fall asleep talking with his roommate.
Unfortunately, Cater was nowhere to be seen and Trey was left to scratch the back of his head, humming to himself in amusement. He decided to properly wash his face and anything else he needed to, before changing and heading to sleep. Tomorrow was their leisure day, Trey thought while staring at the ceiling. It was hard to think.
Trey sat up, looking to his glasses on his nightstand. Tomorrow he and Cater were both free, so, maybe he should ask him out? A game of croquet between just the two of them? That sounded heavenly to Trey. As friends, of course.
He wondered. Well, did it have to be as weird sexually-intimate friends? He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, taking in a breath. Asking Cater out was something that, up until now, Trey would have absolutely never considered.
Now, he was actually thinking about it. Thinking of how Cater might react. It was possible that he’d reject Trey, definitely—actually, more than likely. Beginning to think of such foolish dreams was bad for somebody’s head, he concluded in his thoughts, deciding he would never do something that brash, especially being unsure of the outcome. He was getting his hopes up, and Trey just wanted the easiest, most worry-free life on campus that he could manage.
Cater bumbled in, face wet with hair expansed messily over his sweat-slick forehead, shutting the door behind him and wildly straightening himself up when he saw Trey. He needed to be pretty, after all. “Running from a monster?” Trey joked, rubbing his tired eyes. “I was wondering where you were.”
The ginger looked absolutely on edge. “Oh. Were you? Why is that?” He asked quickly, practically spitting out the words. It was uncharacteristic of him to be seen so oddly fidgety and nervous. Trey had begun to feel worry creep up his spine.
“No reason in particular. I just didn’t know why you would leave the dorm after me in the evening. Especially when you’re jumpy in the dark.” Cater looked around, swallowing. “So, how did it go with Riddle?” He stayed with his back against the door, adding, “He say anything in particular?”
Trey blinked. “I—what? No. He needed help talking to an… Octavinelle student. Are you okay? Did someone hurt you, or?” Against the door, Cater’s eyes softened, a smile making it’s way to his lips. “That’s good.” Trey loved that smile. It was genuine. It wasn’t flashy or shiny like the rest of Cater was, it was calm and content. It was relieved and assured. Truly happy.
He refocused. What was good? “Why? You’re confusing me, Cater. Sit down.” The Clover began to settle his glasses back onto his face to view Cater clearly, closing his hands together. Cater nervously twirled a curl of orange between his fingers, as he always did, sitting across from Trey on a stool next to his desk.
He was eager to listen to Cater. He always was. Cater made everything sound so fun, and when he told a story he made Trey laugh harder than he could very well control, executing it with such dramaticism and perfect punchlines that it left him heaved over, wheezing. It didn’t help that the way the ginger spoke was so downright outlandish.
“I need to talk with you about something that’s been bothering me.” Cater remained somewhat staunch as he spoke.
Trey inhaled.
His hands gripped themselves hard. Was this about their relationship? Or, lack thereof.
“I don’t… know how you’ll take it, but, I think that’s okay, y’know? I already talked to someone about maybe switching our dorms if it doesn’t go over well, and…”
Switching dorms? What? They had been dorming together for the past three years.
Trey saw himself. He probably looked pathetic, sitting slightly hunched over with his expression just barely discernible. He didn’t want Cater to see his face, after all. He was an ugly crier, and crying completely gave away how he felt about the longevity of the awkwardness in this situation. His hands shook from tearing into themselves because of his iron grip. It hit him like a train.
He wanted to shake himself to sit up, run out of the room and tell Cater that he knew. He knew how Cater felt. It was okay that he didn’t want him. That he was uncomfortable. Uncomfortable. The idea that Cater was uncomfortable around him absolutely messed him up. He wanted Cater to be honest with him, he thought he deserved that much, but Cater was never honest. Cater lied so much, and so easily. It was so simple for him to feign delight.
There were so many Caters, too. Trey was sure he knew the the real way Cater acted, the real way to his heart, but how could one ever be sure?
The noise felt black. Trey looked down to his lap, managing his very best not to cry, and doing a good job of it. He felt his eyes go glassy. His glasses might get droplets on them. It was difficult to register what was happening due to the mental cartwheels he was experiencing, putting him into a horrid state of overstimulation. He felt like he was fighting gravity as he managed to lift his neck.
He made to look up to see Cater struggling even more than he was. Cater’s cheeks were red, he was tearing up and… what was he even saying again? What had he said?
Did Trey miss something important? Cater looked distraught, sobbing into his hands and muttering nonsense, beginning to shut off. It was foggy through Trey’s glasses. His hands shakily moved on their own as he pulled the swivel stool that Cater sat on closer.
“Talk to me.” Trey choked out. Cater even cried prettily. He never got to see Cater’s cries during sex, as they never really faced one another.
“It’s okay. I think I know you and Riddle are, uh-ahah…” Cater broke out, uneven and nasty, almost angry. As if Trey had no right trying to pull his words out of him. As if Trey hurt him. Trey looked at Cater’s soft hands, not hardened by hot cake pans and rolling pins.
He wanted to hold them forever. He wanted to whisper those forbidden words to Cater while he held all those locked away, intimate spots so tightly. “You need to breathe and look at me.” Trey managed, in a firm voice. He was good at this. Calming people down firmly. This was familiar, and he could work with Cater like this.
Cater nodded, wiping his face and looking at Trey’s nose. He refused to make eye contact. “You and Riddle like eachother. I think.”
Trey looked the most puzzled he had since his mother first taught him how to use an oven. Despite the confusion, now boiling anger, and general discontent Trey felt for this comment, he breathed. “Why do you think that?”
Now the Diamond looked puzzled. “Ah, just… The way you two talk, and… your history, and… I thought Riddle had just called you to…?” Trey saw the embarrassment coursing through his friend’s veins. All this time Cater had been throwing himself into an imaginary problem that never existed. Trey was never in love with anybody but Cater.
Trey’s eyes widened.
He was in love. In love with Cater, yes. Admitting it to himself felt refreshing. He loved Cater. He wanted Cater, in a romantic way. He loved him.
Was Cater just anxious or did he love Trey in the same way? If he didn’t, would he ever accept the way Trey felt? Not be annoyed with it—that, now, Trey wasn’t just a toy to have fun with? That was a pleasing fantasy, however, he couldn’t ignore the frustration that built in his chest over the course of Cater’s admission of thought. “You assumed my feelings? Cater.” Trey sighed, petulance seeping into his so far sullen demeanor.
“I have been fucking you. I have been kissing you. You know me, Cater. Why would I do that with you if I was… Are you stupid?”
Cater’s posture perked, mood ameliorated. “Well, people do that,” before he slammed his hand over his own mouth, Trey’s brow arching. “‘ People ?’ I am your best friend,” and before Trey felt himself get angry once again, his hands dove for Cater’s, holding his friends fingers in his palms.
“Talk to me.” He commanded again, his friend nodding, breathing in, and exhaling. He looked Trey in the eye, legs squeezing tightly, lips tight, as if his body was prisoning his notions.
”Trey, I’m in… ugh. That sounds so lame. I really—ugh, no.” Trey frowned and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Cater giggled through his tears at Trey’s actions, inhaling his laughs, which were overlapping his snot-nosed sobs now. “I know. You must be so frustrated, babe. I’ve been, like, waiting for this—so, I…”
Trey groaned, biting his lip way-too-positively at the halfwitted nickname. Cater gasped, tears drying on his face, left-over mascara running. The ginger took a shaky breath. He took Trey’s face into his hands. He felt his solid cheekbones. Trey felt like he was dreaming. The man he had been in love with for the whole of his later adolescence was holding his face, fumbling for his words with his perfectly orange hair still looking glamorous and consummate despite how soiled it was. He became putty in Cater’s hands, as if he put him in a trance. His beauty often had Trey hypnotized, but his mouth moved, and the words traveled to his ears. So crystal clear.
”I love you, Trey.”
He blinked the tears away from his eyes, sniveling, groaning at the lack of a lingual petname Cater failed to add. Cater knew how it made him act now.
“You look so beautiful, Cater,” Trey muttered, groaning in acceptance. He didn’t know that he had waited so long to hear that. It alleviated him. It relieved him of something he wasn’t aware he needed so desperately.
“I love you, I want you,” and Trey could have said more, so much more, but Cater launched his tongue into his mouth, and Trey had never felt such pure vigor from Cater. He needed it just as much as Trey always did. He was being devoured, and he didn’t mind the way his tongue was being sucked as if it were water in a desert.
Cater sighed, leaving Trey puzzled.
“I had just, like, totally practiced that,” he smirked furtively, straddling Trey on his bed.