[Naturally, no one bats an eye at Vil bringing the other third year with him into his Pomefiore Headwarden Suite. They likely wouldn't even if their relationship hadn't been outed to the whole world. Cater's head is full of anticipated thoughts, wondering how exactly he's gonna slide smoothly into Vil's DMs, so to speak.
As it turns out, he needn't have thought so hard about it at all, because Vil expertly takes the initiative. And Seven save him, Vil's fingertips brushing his skin as he undoes that first button has his whole body tingling with nerves. He can't help being as worried that he'll underperform just as much as he's excited to be with Vil this way.
He won't judge you, he tells himself, knowing it's true. Anxious despite it. Just be yourself.]
You'll have to keep me in check. Never been very good at keeping still.
[Even now, as he reaches for Vil's waist and pulls their bodies closer together, his fingertips itch, impatient of their own accord, wanting--no, needing to fidget, to have a task, to do more.]
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As it turns out, he needn't have thought so hard about it at all, because Vil expertly takes the initiative. And Seven save him, Vil's fingertips brushing his skin as he undoes that first button has his whole body tingling with nerves. He can't help being as worried that he'll underperform just as much as he's excited to be with Vil this way.
He won't judge you, he tells himself, knowing it's true. Anxious despite it. Just be yourself.]
You'll have to keep me in check. Never been very good at keeping still.
[Even now, as he reaches for Vil's waist and pulls their bodies closer together, his fingertips itch, impatient of their own accord, wanting--no, needing to fidget, to have a task, to do more.]
Seven forbid I damage anything designer.