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[chopoffyourhead]

Username: rosehearts

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[chopoffyourhead]

[Riddle's face scrunches up briefly as his cheeks are toyed with.]

Maybe? Someone who doesn't like it wouldn't work so hard to hear it again.

[And that doesn't surprise him. He still doesn't entirely understand the twins' relationship with Azul, but it's clearly... different, in a sense. At the very least, it's clear they both see it differently than other relationships.

His expression softens at the gentle touches, and he lets his eyes flutter closed as Floyd strokes him.

At the question, his eyes open again. He's quiet for a moment...

Slowly, a flush rises to his cheeks.]

...it felt right.

[He turns his head into the hand and presses a kiss to the palm.]

... when the device showed all those searches you'd done for me... I suppose a lot of things clicked into place. I've never had anyone go out of their way for me like you have...

[eelusive]

[It seems like such a simple answer. "It felt right." And yet calling someone theirs isn't simple at all, now is it? Riddle's a powerful, proud force to be reckoned with. With hundreds of card soldiers at his command back home, he's a housewarden for a reason. But beneath that hardened exterior is a boy who takes responsibility for other people, who goes against every self-preserving ideal Floyd's own house is built upon.

Everything about Riddle is different. Confusing and contradictory and annoying, but different.

And to Floyd, that also feels right.]

Mn, Sea Turtle and Sea Bream have probably done a lot for you, I bet. ... Not by looking up the stuff I did for you, but--

[Floyd supposes, in that sense, he's pretty different for Riddle too.

With a laugh, he gently bats at those two silly antennae sprouting from the top of the other boy's head before smoothing his hair back and tucking some behind his ear.]

I kinda like bein' yours. And I want you to be mine too.

[chopoffyourhead]

[There's a moment his burrow furrows at the names before he guesses who Floyd means.]

Cater and Trey? [...] I don't discount all they've done, certainly. It's just not quite the same.

[There's a layer of duty there. Trey and Cater were not simply Riddle's right-hand men, but upperclassmen as well.

... between Floyd and himself here, there are no such expectations or duties. Floyd was doing this because he wanted to, plain and simple.

Still, the thought of Cater and Trey has his expression dimming. His heart aches with how much he misses the two of them.

And then he looks back to Floyd. His eyes widen at the last part, blush deepening.]

... I could be.

[Said tentatively, looking at Floyd with a touch of vulnerability in his eyes.]

What does me being "yours" look like to you?

[eelusive]

[Floyd hums as he considers that question. What does that look like?

After messing with those red locks, his hand drops back to find purchase on Riddle's leg, just resting and idly touching so his fingers have something to play with.]

I guess I hadn't really thought that far ahead.

[How to put this into terms Riddle can understand? Floyd continues,]

You know how moody I am? It's always been easy for me to get angry and lose interest in stuff. But, like-- When I'm around you, I feel like all I am is happy. And like I want that feeling to stay for a long time.

[Finally after processing that out loud, he looks back to the other boy without an ounce of concern or hesitation in his eyes. Why would he be either of those thing if he's being truthful?]

I think it's like... sharing a bed with you. Or dancing with you more than once a week. Or bringing you stuff every day besides flowers and crabs.

[In hindsight, that all sounds pretty romantic. Floyd lifts a shoulder in a light shrug.]

I just want you to be close to me all the time. That's all.

[chopoffyourhead]

[...oh...

Floyd really says the sweetest things sincerely, and it makes Riddle's heart flutter. The blush on his face deepens...

And everything that he says, even more so. Such sweet, tender and intimate moments to be shared between them.

There's a long moment of trepidation. Concerns coming up in his head, leading down more roads and thoughts. The realization that he's enjoyed Floyd's presence much more on a whole lately— more than most people's. That there might well be... feelings, or the start of feelings.

Finally, he leans and places his forehead on Floyd's shoulder.]

... what if I have feelings for another, too?

[eelusive]

[Floyd wraps his arms around Riddle out of instinct and starts to play with his hair to keep his fingers occupied. As soon as that question arises though, he stills and quietly stares up at the ceiling.

There’s a lot to process, a lot he’s not sure he understands or even wants to. Is that a hypothetical scenario or a real one, and if it’s the latter then… who?

Floyd feels his mood rapidly tanking the more he considers the details and, perhaps in some unconscious attempt to keep it in place, he tightens his hold and presses Riddle’s head closer to his own.]

… I don’t think I wanna answer that right now. And I don’t wanna think about anyone else today. So…

[he mumbles.]

Can I tell you later?

[chopoffyourhead]

[Mmm...

There's a lot Riddle needs to figure out too. What is he okay with? And... what is he supposed to do, in the event he really can't sort these confusing feelings out?

He nuzzles into Floyd's neck.]

Yeah. Of course.

[He places a small, apologetic kiss to his neck.]

... besides... I still haven't given you the reward I had in mind.

[eelusive]

[It's not like Riddle has anything to apologize for. His question isn't an offensive one or even an invalid one. But it does have Floyd thinking... and thinking more than he'd like to be on a day like today.

Twirling some hair around his finger, Floyd replies,]

Y'mean calling me your moray wasn't the reward?

[chopoffyourhead]

[He pulls back, a coy look on his face.]

Well, if that was sufficient, I suppose I could save it for another time...~

1/3

[eelusive]

Wh--

2/3

[eelusive]

Huh...?

3/3

[eelusive]

[And in his moment of escalating curiosity and frustration, Floyd abruptly sits up, hands flying out and coming around to grab onto the first thing they can find in earnest: Riddle's ass.

He grips. Hard. Not even thinking about what he's doing. Because if he doesn't grip hard, how will he be taken seriously?]

That's no fair, Goldfishie!!

1/3

[chopoffyourhead]

[♫]

2/3

[chopoffyourhead]

[—NSK:JGNSKDJGNSD]

3/3

[chopoffyourhead]

FLOYD!!!

[eelusive]

What!?

[SQUEEZE HONK SQUEEZE]

[chopoffyourhead]

[SJdghskg he's just full-on tomato rn]

Let go! Acting like that isn't earning you any favors.

[...also gosh he sure is tight and full of knots down there, huh, Floyd?]

1/2

[eelusive]

Acting like what?

[... Upon taking stock of the situation, Floyd realizes what "what" actually means and immediately feels like he's gotten himself tangled up in a fishing net.

Maybe he's not as good at taking a tease as he thought he was. Or maybe it's just certain kind of teases? Sexual teases? He doesn't even know.

With a growl, he retracts his hands and presses them instead to his eyes.]

Rrrrgh--!

2/2

[eelusive]

["You're overreacting," he wants to say. "This doesn't make any sense." "I didn't mean to." "I don't know what you want." "I don't know how to act any different." "I don't want to act any different." "You're the first person I've let look at Jade's side of the bed."

"I'm sorry."

None of those things leave his lips and in the end, frowning, Floyd smears his hands down his face and turns his head to the side.]

... Can you just... get off me for a second?

[chopoffyourhead]

[Instantly, Riddle's expression shifts. He glances away, then obediently gets off of Floyd, sitting on the bed.

This... isn't fair to Floyd, is it? That's part of what he likes about Floyd as much as it sometimes takes him off-guard. Floyd's full to the brim with emotion, and genuine. Even if he does act childish at times.

Riddle lets out a softly frustrated noise, putting a hand to his forehead.

He murmurs, tone resigned:]

I told you I'd be difficult.

[eelusive]

[As soon as Riddle rolls off of him, Floyd lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. He counts down from ten and back again. He focuses on the darkness behind his forearm, the temperature settling in his chest and stomach. All the things he's been told to do before but never bothered to try because none of it ever mattered.

Because Floyd being Floyd was always a good thing; an asset.

Riddle's one of the few to tell him otherwise. He's one of the few he admires and whose opinion matters just as much as his strength. Of course he doesn't want to disappoint him.

After a minute, he finally mutters a reply, his head still turned away.]

I already knew you were difficult. Doesn't change anything I said before.

[Any of it. All of it. He likes seeing him happy. He wants him to have fun. He's pretty and cute and bossy and doesn't have to apologize for wanting to be fucking comfortable.]

And it doesn't matter how difficult it is either. You said you want me to be here for you, so that's what I'm doing.

[Softer,]

I'm not gonna be the best. I just wanna be good.

[chopoffyourhead]

[He's quiet as he listens, eyes glued to the fabric underneath. Slowly, he looks back over his shoulder at Floyd's back. It's never felt so imposing before.]

Maybe it doesn't change what you say, but...

[He shakes his head.]

That doesn't just give me free reign to do or say anything, either.

I don't want to say or do things that have you feeling like you're not good enough. And if I do, then... I want to know.

So I can apologize and work to be better.

[eelusive]

[This is something he's been meaning to ask Azul about, he thinks. Why is he bad at this sort of thing? Why does he even care about it now when he couldn't have given a batfish's ass about it before?

Floyd's hardly one to run from his problems, but at times like these his moray instincts flare up, telling him to find the smallest possible crevice to squeeze into and hide.

Still. He fights them anyway, butts heads with his own damn nature, because whatever this is, he wants to make it work. It has to work.]

You didn't say anything like that. ... I just think I want you too much.

[If that's even possible. It sounds ridiculous, but it feels true. He wants Riddle so much it makes his head hurt and his heart beat out of rhythm. Feeling a bit calmer, he sits up and crosses his legs on the bed.]

... Were other people slow with you? Or, like, just really gentle and teasing you all the time?

[Is that what he needs to do? He knows he said he didn't want to think about other people right now, but Floyd can't exactly help it anymore.]

[chopoffyourhead]

[...oh...

That makes his heart hurt a bit, and he doesn't fully understand why. He watches Floyd sit up and lets out a small breath at the questions, drawing his legs up to loosely wrap his arms around them.

A small sound of confirmation leaves his throat.]

Things haven't always gone smoothly with others, either. But... all the smoothest times... [His gaze softens a bit.] ... people were really gentle and understanding.

They were observant. They always responded right away to any tension. And.. the way they moved meant there were never any surprises. I could always tell their intentions before they did anything.

[And then, if Floyd will let him... he'll reach over and put a couple fingers under his chin to coax his gaze up to Riddle, who offers a small smile.]

But, you know... I know this stuff doesn't come easy to you, and that it's new and sometimes difficult. [A brush of a thumb over Floyd's jaw, if he's allowed.] And I really want you to understand how much that means to me. That you're willing to learn something so outside your comfort zone and fight through all the obstacles for my sake.

Your trying so hard... makes the moments of gentleness and thoughtfulness really special.

[eelusive]

[Floyd doesn’t know if hearing the answer helps. Maybe it does but it doesn’t sit as well with his stomach as he thought it might. To respond accordingly and on time… to be gentle and predictable– He’s never been that. He’s never needed to be that.

Yet Riddle’s touch makes Floyd want to try regardless.]

When you get angry, I think that happens when I’m trying too hard though. I guess I feel like I’m not learning fast enough. I wanna be doing something and be moving and talking all the time so I don’t have to think about what upsets me. But that’s not fair to you.

[Ever since his brother disappeared, there’s been no one left to understand him inside and out. They try, Floyd knows that, but they lose patience on top of their own shit to sort through. He doesn’t necessarily feel bad for who he is… yet he doesn’t feel particularly good either. He simply feels less complex; less Floyd and more… incomplete.

Glancing over at the moray plush rested against his brother’s pillow, Floyd furrows his brow, because he knows ”incomplete” isn’t a feeling that will be fixed overnight, if ever at all.

Is that what he’s doing? Trying to fill a void? Trying to find a replacement, a distraction, a solution for what he can’t have? Or is he subconsciously trying to be someone else; a gentle, thoughtful guise concealing the disingenuous person Riddle’s said he can’t stand? Looking back at Riddle’s smile, Floyd doesn’t want to believe any of those things could be true. He just wants him. Only him. Exactly as he said before. It doesn’t have to be so complicated or confusing it just– It only has to be.

Leaning over, Floyd uselessly drops his forehead to Riddle’s shoulder.]

… My head’s too noisy. I wanna shut it up but I can’t.