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Cater sits alone on the bench across from a small cafe, waiting for his boyfriends to come out and save him from boredom. Riddle had taken his precious, precious phone just before abandoning him to wait outside, stating that he “needed to find some way to ground himself in reality” and that he was “worried for your state of mind, Cater, just sit down.”
And to think that Cater had thought he’d won when he convinced Riddle to let them get coffee for their date, despite the rules against it (“After all,” He had told his high-strung boyfriend, “It’s not like we’d be in the dorm”).
The small rosebush beside him is now his only company, his other boyfriend having been kidnapped by their tiniest, whom this rosebush reminds him of. However, it’s a lot less entertaining and fun to be around. Cay-Cay is deprived.
He flips onto his back and starts counting the number of petals on the largest rose of the bush.
One, two, three…
Four, five…
Six…
A tall cup is pushed into his line of sight, obscuring the rose bush from view. It’s in a transparent cup, meant for cold coffee, and looks like it contains enough sugar to instantly give someone a cavity– not that it would happen on Trey’s watch. He follows the arm up to his Iddle-Riddle, who’s standing there watching him with a soft smile on his face and Cater’s phone held hostage in his other hand. Trey stands behind their boyfriend, carrying two hot cups.
Riddle pushes the drink even further into Cater’s personal space until he takes it himself, earning a bright smile from the housewarden for his compliance. Trey sits on his right, Riddle sits down on his left. Cater gives his enthusiastic boyfriend a wide smile, but his mind is clouded with dread at the thought of trying to actually consume the liquid in his hands. He can’t help but be a little disappointed.
Maybe he can persuade Trey to let him have some of his coffee instead.
“Here,” Riddle tells him, holding Cater’s phone in front of the junior like a treat. “So you can take a picture.” Riddle’s smile is soft in a way that Cater never imagined he of all people would get to see, and he thanks the seven for this privilege.
For once Cater’s hold on his phone has little to do with the promise of distraction. His smile widens, touched by the consideration. “Of course,” he begins, “Such a piccable location, with my favorite people.” He lowers his voice to whisper with a joking lilt, “Don’t tell the freshies.”
Trey shifts to lean into Cater, providing a strong backrest for him to fall back against. He chuckles in amusement and Cater’s heart burrows into the movement it causes. “I’m sure this can be our little secret.”
They share a grin until Riddle pouts, grabbing the hand with the phone in it and elbowing it up. Cater takes it as the good-natured demand it is and swipes to the camera. He angles the phone, making sure that all three of them fit in the frame. As a little egg for himself, he takes care to get the rosebush in the picture as well.
The screen blips as the moment is captured: the picture popping down to the bottom left corner of the screen. He pauses a moment before editing, stealing a moment for himself to admire the way his boyfriends look in the picture. Riddle’s smile is bashful and clearly unpracticed, unlike Cater’s. The redhead has a small blush on his face, likely from the weather– though Cater likes to think he and Trey played their own part in the origin of that expression. Trey had his arm wrapped around the both of them, having given one of the hot cups to Riddle for him to hold. His hair was as mussed as ever, sticking up in too many different directions like one of Heartslabyul’s resident hedgehogs. A piece stuck down against his forehead.
Cater was in the middle– is still in the middle– beaming.
The editing process is practiced and, as a welcomed consequence, fast. Cater sticks to the most basic edits, enough to make it postable, finding himself eager to get back to the date. He posts the photo and closes out of the app, finally looking up to see his boyfriends watching him fondly.
Riddle is quick to direction, “Time to switch drinks!” He shoves the coffee in his hands at Trey once more. Trey laughs as a bit of liquid splashes out of the hole in the lid due to the movement.
“Steady, Riddle.” Trey takes the drink anyways, moving the other cup in his hands to Cater; Cater blinks, bewildered at the sudden instruction. He had forgotten about the dreaded drink.
The dreaded drink that is currently being snatched by his most regal of boyfriends.
Trey’s mouth lifts in a smirk that Cater knows is meant to be comforting as he presses the warm cup into Cater’s empty hands, then leans over to press a light kiss to the top of Cater’s head. The spot where his lips met skin still feels warm as he pulls away and Cater basks in the feeling.
The other two start a slow yet steady conversation about dorm preparations as Cater first sips from the coffee pressed upon him. Black with a hint of cinnamon: it tasted soothingly bitter on his tongue.
He pushes down the tears fighting to well up in his eyes; he won’t cry over coffee. Trey pulls him closer, his arm a grounding weight against his chest. Riddle leans back into both of them, compressing the three of them more than the space on the bench demands.
The conversation doesn’t waver, his boyfriends providing a calming backdrop for him to lose his thoughts in. Cater doesn’t feel left out, his brain too fuzzy to support any real thoughts that aren’t on autopilot.
He’s content.
Riddle flips and lifts a hand to cradle Cater’s face, then levies himself up to press a kiss to the tip of his nose.