[He watches and listens quietly. At the end of it, he hums softly and thoughtfully, carding his finger through the red locks.]
Hmmm. I think I see what's happening.
You've definitely been improving. However, when a significant change is occurring, it causes anxiety, which in turn brings the negative thoughts back up.
[And then he hesitates.]
Ah... sorry, I hope that wasn't too clinical.
[After another moment, he draws closer, touching their foreheads together again. His hand comes up, petting Cater's hair. His voice lowers, warm and tender for his boyfriend.]
Breathe, Cater. Focus on now and here. Focus on me.
[Cater gives a huff of a laugh, clearly not offended. He shakes his head.]
No...you're right. I'm used to going through changes, but they've never been easy for me.
[This is the first real change he's had that's been an undeniable positive, but that doesn't seem to be stopping his anxiety. It must be a learned, subconscious behavior. And then Vil draws them together and Cater lets out a slow breath, basking in the warmth generated between them.]
I am. I'm right here with you.
[He doesn't want to be anywhere else. Knows that as long as it's Vil, he isn't going to feel ashamed.]
I want you more than I can put into words.
[So instead of words, he nuzzles his face in closer, seeking out Vil's mouth with his own.]
[Vil seems to relax a little at Cater taking his observation well. And the following words have his heart swelling, feeling light and warm and tingly all at once.
A pleased hum escapes as Vil accepts that mouth, kissing Cater slowly. It doesn't seem like Vil really knows what he's doing, but his relative lack of anxiety may make him seem fairly self-assured in his exploration.
Either way, his hands are now moving to gently remove that first layer of clothing.]
[As they kiss, as Vil's perfect hands start to slide the fabric away from his skin, the tension in Cater's body starts to melt away. He's here, right here, with Vil. Even at his worst, Vil doesn't so much as hint that he'd change anything about him. Cater felt like he'd just about shattered the good feelings they'd built up throughout the day but Vil doesn't miss a beat. They pick up right where they left off and Cater cups Vil's face in one hand while the other finds his waist and pulls him closer.
Maybe he's done this before, but the emotions he feels now are so new to him it's like starting over from scratch. And Vil, always so confident in everything he does, helps keep him steady and on course. He sighs into his boyfriend's mouth, his skin warm and craving more of those delicate touches.]
It feels right to have Cater relaxing underneath his touches, becoming pliant and willing. That's how he wants Cater to feel— that these hands are meant just for him, and that he's safe in their care.
With that first layer removed, he goes for the next, hands coming down to take the hem of the fabric. The kiss trails slightly when he breaks it before he moves to take that shirt off.
There will be nothing on his upper body after that, and Vil craves to see it.]
[It's so incredible to him, the way that Vil can so easily pull him out of his darkest moments. He shines so brightly, illuminating all the corners, filling him with warmth. His hands treat him with such a soothing gentleness at a certain odds with his tenacious personality...Cater can't get enough. Has never been able to, really, but certainly not now.
He wants to be the one kissing Vil all over, so as soon as the top comes off over his head, Cater goes back in, lips at the blonde's neck. As he opens his mouth to peek his tongue out and touch it to that flawless skin, his fang trails along with him, a teasing caress.]
[Vil only gets a glimpse of that beautiful body before Cater's diving right back in and he gives a soft gasp at the mouth on his neck. Letting out a slow breath, he tilts his head away, hand coming up to thread through Cater's hair and and wind his fingers through the wavy locks.
What a ridiculous man. Waiting for the point where Vil sees that he isn't worth it. If only he could feel how strongly he desired him, craved him, and how complete and clear his world felt with him at his side, giving him those beautiful, shy, genuine smiles.]
[The way that Vil breathes, that slow exhale--a sound of such contentment and such want at the same time, it sends Cater's heart pounding, his skin starting to visibly flush in his own unabashed desire. He dare not leave a mark on Vil's skin--not without expressed permission, but that doesn't stop him from kissing him again and again, like he's absolutely starving for it.
Vil's fingers feel so perfect in his hair. If he were pulling or scratching, Cater's sure he would adore it just as much. Still, those soothing caresses are perfect. Just what he needs right now.]
Vil...
[The name comes out on a breath like Cater just can't help but utter it. Vil Schoenheit. It still feels like a dream that they're here. Like it was just yesterday they were children saying goodbye, and Cater thought he'd never see him again. Well, if it is all a dream, he intends to make the most of it. His warm, lightly-calloused hands work on removing Vil's outer layers as well, so they can admire each other in the same state of undress.]
[The lips on him are heavenly. In this moment, he feels so light, so warm, so desirable, so beautiful.
Yet, something in him falters, and as Cater moves to undress him, Vil pulls back, a conflicted look on his face. This gorgeous ginger was just sitting in front of him, giving himself over to Vil so easily...
Why does he feel so unbalanced? Why does he suddenly feel so exposed? He certainly has not an ounce of shame over his body...]
[Cater's hands leave Vil the second he hesitates. He took it too far, didn't he? He got the wrong impression, probably? Shit. His green eyes scan his boyfriend's face, trying to find a solution to a problem that he hasn't figured out yet. Trying not to panic about it or get ahead of himself.]
Sorry. Was I moving too fast?
[Immediately, Cater has the urge to touch Vil again, but differently--more reassuringly. To squeeze his hands and kiss his face and hold him close. But, no, he pulled away, needs physical space, clearly. It's always so unnerving to see Vil not looking...in control. He always seems like he knows exactly what to do all the time. If he isn't feeling confident, who in the world could be?]
[He's so sweet. Too sweet. Too good. It almost hurts.
Can Vil get the words to escape his mouth, past his throat? It's so strange, feeling like this. For the most part, he was genuinely confident. Maybe to a fault.
Yet Cater's gentleness and understanding... It makes him itch. Something crawls underneath his skin. He wants to push him away. He wants to tell him to get out, and never come back. He wants to protect him so badly from himself.]
Poisonous thoughts. [He manages to murmur out. He struggles with more. Everything in him wants to refuse all of this. He's fine, he's fine, what's he getting all worried about? Cater's happy, Vil's happy, so why is he tempting fate?
He clenches his eyes shut. A tremble runs through his hands.
[Cater's smile stumbles and falls from his face as he squeezes Vil's hands more tightly. Poisonous? He both does and doesn't know what Vil means by that--he has them himself, doesn't he? But somehow it feels different. Vil's demons are not his own.
But that doesn't mean he doesn't have them. Honestly, Cater's surprised that he's only seeing them now. He supposes that even with how practiced he is at hiding himself, his dark thoughts, Vil's profession would make it even easier for him to pretend to be fine when his whole world is sinking.]
I've been broken for a long time, Vil. All you've ever done is help me start to pick back up the pieces.
[He draws one of those hands to his mouth, kisses Vil's palm.]
We might get some cuts along the way...but those'll heal.
[A shiver runs down Cater's spine. He feels himself torn in two ways: on one hand, beautiful, talented, amazing, perfect Vil...looking at him like that, touching him like that...how could you not fall into a spell? If he offered him poison by his own making, Cater isn't so sure he wouldn't drink it.
But no. It's not Vil, not really. Just like Cater isn't Cay-Cay. Vil Schoenheit, the villain. The character that he plays because it's what everyone expects of him. It gets so easy to lean into that role.]
[He's confident in his assertion, but how to put that into words that would reach Vil in this state, where he's hiding behind his own mask? This feels important, like if he messes this up, if he says something wrong, all of this ends. Cater Diamond is a glass in Vil Schoenheit's immaculate hand. One twist of his fingers and the stem could snap and be rendered useless.
Cater's eyes flicker down and away before he thinks of something and meets Vil's piercing gaze again.]
I hate sweets. [Knowing it seems like a complete topic change, he only gives it a beat before continuing.] But my Magicam is full of them. Cute colors, smiles, a carefree boy who lives in the moment, who can be friends with anyone...that's the role I was given. It gets to a point where so many people identify you in a certain way that it feels like letting them down to show anything else. So you adapt into it, no matter how much you hate it, because that's what's expected of you.
There's a sea full of people out there who think they know me, but they just see what they want to see. What I let them see. And if I have a sea of people doing that, you have the whole world. I can't even begin to imagine that kind of pressure--the weight that such a character puts on you.
[It's hard enough being happy all the time. Being a villain? It would certainly crush him.]
You wear it like a second skin, but everyone has their tells, no matter how subtle. I see it in your eyes when you're cast in another movie or TV show as the villain when you were hoping for something different. In the disappointment and the frustration with your agent. In the corners of your smile that don't turn up quite as much. In your careful wordings announcing your next project--grateful for an opportunity but never excited.
[Aren't you tired, Vil? Tired like he's tired? Cater's hand carefully touches the back of Vil's, dragging it down from his chin to his neck and leaning in.]
...but I could be kidding myself. If I am, just squeeze.
The abrupt apparent change in topic is enough to have his crooked smile fade a bit, and more so as he continues talking. His gaze never once leaves Cater as he speaks.
He's quiet through all of it, nothing giving away the thoughts within. And then Cater makes that gesture...]
It's not a light laugh; it's definitely steeped in darkness and poison.]
My, my. I had no idea you were so presumptuous. And so confidently, at that. Not to mention flirting so obviously with danger.
[He squeezes, just enough to make breathing uncomfortable.]
But I can't hold it against you for getting things backwards. Not all of us were forced into a role to begin with.
Dear Cater. Let me set things straight: I have no problems with being the villain in and of itself. In fact, I find the role very enjoyable.
No, the real problem is... [He grits his teeth now, squeezing a bit tighter. It might be hard to breathe.] I want to be the last on the stage. I want to be the one at the forefront of everyone's minds. And a villain never gets that opportunity. The one who stays on until the end is always the hero. It's always him.
[He stares into those blue eyes as if he can see directly into Cater's soul. His voice is low, humming with unspoken threat.] I am an ambitious man. A ruthless man. I have and will do everything in my power to come out on top. I haven't just beaten my competition, I've crushed them. And there is not an ounce of guilt in my heart for it. I would do it all again, and without batting an eye.
There isn't a thing in the world that could stop me from my pursuit. Not us, and not you.
Do you understand?
[He holds that grip until he gets an affirmative. And then he finally lets go.]
[For the first time in his life, from the moment he met the other boy in the Shaftlands, Cater Diamond is afraid of Vil Schoenheit. They're both so exposed here, and in that exposure, in that honesty, the hands they've thrown down couldn't be more different. As it turns out, Cater's was just a bluff. Vil has the royal flush. He manages a nod, taking in a large breath as he's released, head bowed down in a gesture of submission.]
I wouldn't dream of getting in your way.
[The last thing on his mind had been Vil's career--at least not right now. Maybe that's the problem--Vil's career is everything.
Geeze, how daft can I be? He'd laugh at himself if he were alone. Wake up, Cater. Stop living in a fantasy. When he looks back up at Vil again, Cater's smiling.]
So do whatever you need to do, okay? Use me until I'm spent.
[Everything always ends. It was stupid of him to get caught up in some notion of forever.]
[Cater stammers uselessly. Those broken pieces they'd been picking up together slipping through his cut fingers and back onto the ground again. What did I do wrong? He wants to ask. Give me another chance, he wants to plead. I'll be whatever you need me to be, he wants to promise.
It hurts. His heart hurts. His stomach aches.
Cater tears his eyes away from Vil's dismissive stance and stands, quietly picking up the nice clothing that had been so carefully removed from him and sliding back into it.]
KK. Seeya in class, Vil.
[His feet take him out of the room even as he leaves his heart behind, bleeding at Vil's feet.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Hmmm. I think I see what's happening.
You've definitely been improving. However, when a significant change is occurring, it causes anxiety, which in turn brings the negative thoughts back up.
[And then he hesitates.]
Ah... sorry, I hope that wasn't too clinical.
[After another moment, he draws closer, touching their foreheads together again. His hand comes up, petting Cater's hair. His voice lowers, warm and tender for his boyfriend.]
Breathe, Cater. Focus on now and here. Focus on me.
Be with me.
no subject
No...you're right. I'm used to going through changes, but they've never been easy for me.
[This is the first real change he's had that's been an undeniable positive, but that doesn't seem to be stopping his anxiety. It must be a learned, subconscious behavior. And then Vil draws them together and Cater lets out a slow breath, basking in the warmth generated between them.]
I am. I'm right here with you.
[He doesn't want to be anywhere else. Knows that as long as it's Vil, he isn't going to feel ashamed.]
I want you more than I can put into words.
[So instead of words, he nuzzles his face in closer, seeking out Vil's mouth with his own.]
no subject
A pleased hum escapes as Vil accepts that mouth, kissing Cater slowly. It doesn't seem like Vil really knows what he's doing, but his relative lack of anxiety may make him seem fairly self-assured in his exploration.
Either way, his hands are now moving to gently remove that first layer of clothing.]
no subject
Maybe he's done this before, but the emotions he feels now are so new to him it's like starting over from scratch. And Vil, always so confident in everything he does, helps keep him steady and on course. He sighs into his boyfriend's mouth, his skin warm and craving more of those delicate touches.]
no subject
It feels right to have Cater relaxing underneath his touches, becoming pliant and willing. That's how he wants Cater to feel— that these hands are meant just for him, and that he's safe in their care.
With that first layer removed, he goes for the next, hands coming down to take the hem of the fabric. The kiss trails slightly when he breaks it before he moves to take that shirt off.
There will be nothing on his upper body after that, and Vil craves to see it.]
no subject
He wants to be the one kissing Vil all over, so as soon as the top comes off over his head, Cater goes back in, lips at the blonde's neck. As he opens his mouth to peek his tongue out and touch it to that flawless skin, his fang trails along with him, a teasing caress.]
no subject
What a ridiculous man. Waiting for the point where Vil sees that he isn't worth it. If only he could feel how strongly he desired him, craved him, and how complete and clear his world felt with him at his side, giving him those beautiful, shy, genuine smiles.]
no subject
Vil's fingers feel so perfect in his hair. If he were pulling or scratching, Cater's sure he would adore it just as much. Still, those soothing caresses are perfect. Just what he needs right now.]
Vil...
[The name comes out on a breath like Cater just can't help but utter it. Vil Schoenheit. It still feels like a dream that they're here. Like it was just yesterday they were children saying goodbye, and Cater thought he'd never see him again. Well, if it is all a dream, he intends to make the most of it. His warm, lightly-calloused hands work on removing Vil's outer layers as well, so they can admire each other in the same state of undress.]
no subject
Yet, something in him falters, and as Cater moves to undress him, Vil pulls back, a conflicted look on his face. This gorgeous ginger was just sitting in front of him, giving himself over to Vil so easily...
Why does he feel so unbalanced? Why does he suddenly feel so exposed? He certainly has not an ounce of shame over his body...]
no subject
Sorry. Was I moving too fast?
[Immediately, Cater has the urge to touch Vil again, but differently--more reassuringly. To squeeze his hands and kiss his face and hold him close. But, no, he pulled away, needs physical space, clearly. It's always so unnerving to see Vil not looking...in control. He always seems like he knows exactly what to do all the time. If he isn't feeling confident, who in the world could be?]
no subject
No... no, you're perfect.
[He leans forward, touching their foreheads together. The implication is obvious, isn't it? He's the problem.
Nevertheless, his hand comes up to caress Cater's cheek. To comfort him.]
I'm sorry.
no subject
Hey.
[He reaches for Vil's hands, putting his own over them and slowly curling his fingers over those slender, far more soft ones.]
You don't have anything to be sorry for. I'm right here with you every step of this thing--we're figuring it all out together, right?
[Not so much the sex as intimacy in general, both of them so inexperienced in a myriad of ways.]
Seven know I nearly lost my mind a few minutes ago, and you haven't gone anywhere. So...my turn, now. Tell me what you're thinking?
no subject
Can Vil get the words to escape his mouth, past his throat? It's so strange, feeling like this. For the most part, he was genuinely confident. Maybe to a fault.
Yet Cater's gentleness and understanding... It makes him itch. Something crawls underneath his skin. He wants to push him away. He wants to tell him to get out, and never come back. He wants to protect him so badly from himself.]
Poisonous thoughts. [He manages to murmur out. He struggles with more. Everything in him wants to refuse all of this. He's fine, he's fine, what's he getting all worried about? Cater's happy, Vil's happy, so why is he tempting fate?
He clenches his eyes shut. A tremble runs through his hands.
He whispers out:]
I'll break you, Cater.
no subject
But that doesn't mean he doesn't have them. Honestly, Cater's surprised that he's only seeing them now. He supposes that even with how practiced he is at hiding himself, his dark thoughts, Vil's profession would make it even easier for him to pretend to be fine when his whole world is sinking.]
I've been broken for a long time, Vil. All you've ever done is help me start to pick back up the pieces.
[He draws one of those hands to his mouth, kisses Vil's palm.]
We might get some cuts along the way...but those'll heal.
no subject
It is not a soft smile, or a happy smile or anything of the sort. There's a certain sharp coldness to it.]
They will, will they?
Sweet Cater. There is a reason I'm always cast as the villain.
[His fingers trace over his lips.]
And you're coming dangerously close to finding out why.
no subject
But no. It's not Vil, not really. Just like Cater isn't Cay-Cay. Vil Schoenheit, the villain. The character that he plays because it's what everyone expects of him. It gets so easy to lean into that role.]
I know you better than that.
no subject
[His hand comes down to grab his chin.]
Tell me, Cater. What makes you so sure you know the real me?
no subject
[He's confident in his assertion, but how to put that into words that would reach Vil in this state, where he's hiding behind his own mask? This feels important, like if he messes this up, if he says something wrong, all of this ends. Cater Diamond is a glass in Vil Schoenheit's immaculate hand. One twist of his fingers and the stem could snap and be rendered useless.
Cater's eyes flicker down and away before he thinks of something and meets Vil's piercing gaze again.]
I hate sweets. [Knowing it seems like a complete topic change, he only gives it a beat before continuing.] But my Magicam is full of them. Cute colors, smiles, a carefree boy who lives in the moment, who can be friends with anyone...that's the role I was given. It gets to a point where so many people identify you in a certain way that it feels like letting them down to show anything else. So you adapt into it, no matter how much you hate it, because that's what's expected of you.
There's a sea full of people out there who think they know me, but they just see what they want to see. What I let them see. And if I have a sea of people doing that, you have the whole world. I can't even begin to imagine that kind of pressure--the weight that such a character puts on you.
[It's hard enough being happy all the time. Being a villain? It would certainly crush him.]
You wear it like a second skin, but everyone has their tells, no matter how subtle. I see it in your eyes when you're cast in another movie or TV show as the villain when you were hoping for something different. In the disappointment and the frustration with your agent. In the corners of your smile that don't turn up quite as much. In your careful wordings announcing your next project--grateful for an opportunity but never excited.
[Aren't you tired, Vil? Tired like he's tired? Cater's hand carefully touches the back of Vil's, dragging it down from his chin to his neck and leaning in.]
...but I could be kidding myself. If I am, just squeeze.
1/3
The abrupt apparent change in topic is enough to have his crooked smile fade a bit, and more so as he continues talking. His gaze never once leaves Cater as he speaks.
He's quiet through all of it, nothing giving away the thoughts within. And then Cater makes that gesture...]
2/3
It's not a light laugh; it's definitely steeped in darkness and poison.]
My, my. I had no idea you were so presumptuous. And so confidently, at that. Not to mention flirting so obviously with danger.
[He squeezes, just enough to make breathing uncomfortable.]
But I can't hold it against you for getting things backwards. Not all of us were forced into a role to begin with.
Dear Cater. Let me set things straight: I have no problems with being the villain in and of itself. In fact, I find the role very enjoyable.
No, the real problem is... [He grits his teeth now, squeezing a bit tighter. It might be hard to breathe.] I want to be the last on the stage. I want to be the one at the forefront of everyone's minds. And a villain never gets that opportunity. The one who stays on until the end is always the hero. It's always him.
3/3
There isn't a thing in the world that could stop me from my pursuit. Not us, and not you.
Do you understand?
[He holds that grip until he gets an affirmative. And then he finally lets go.]
no subject
I wouldn't dream of getting in your way.
[The last thing on his mind had been Vil's career--at least not right now. Maybe that's the problem--Vil's career is everything.
Geeze, how daft can I be? He'd laugh at himself if he were alone. Wake up, Cater. Stop living in a fantasy. When he looks back up at Vil again, Cater's smiling.]
So do whatever you need to do, okay? Use me until I'm spent.
[Everything always ends. It was stupid of him to get caught up in some notion of forever.]
no subject
After a moment, Vil gives a huffing sigh.]
I knew it was only a matter of time.
[Vil's a rose. Always has been. Beautiful, but dangerous.
Anyone who got too close would inevitably be torn up by his thorns.
He turns his gaze away.]
I'm no longer in the mood. Dress yourself and go back to your dorm.
And let this be a lesson to you. The beauty known as Vil Schoenheit comes laced with thorns.
Don't come too close unless you're prepared to get stabbed.
no subject
It hurts. His heart hurts. His stomach aches.
Cater tears his eyes away from Vil's dismissive stance and stands, quietly picking up the nice clothing that had been so carefully removed from him and sliding back into it.]
KK. Seeya in class, Vil.
[His feet take him out of the room even as he leaves his heart behind, bleeding at Vil's feet.]
no subject
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, he gets up. He goes over to the full body mirror just to the side of his bed.
He stares for awhile...
And then his fist slams against the mirror, causing the audible crack of glass.
He breathes heavily. Pulls his bleeding hand back.
And slams it into the mirror again. The shattering almost pierces the white noise filling his ears and mind.]