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Cater Diamond is an enigma. Malleus would be more impressed by that if he thought Cater was being confusing on purpose. As it is, he is simply begrudgingly enraptured.
“Tilt your head back a little. Five degrees? No, four.”
Malleus tilts his head obligingly.
“No, that’s putting a shadow over your face.” Cater purses his lips, staring intently at his phone. “Maybe if we both lean backward…?”
Malleus exhales softly into Cater’s hair. “This seems rather finicky for a simple ‘selfie.’”
Another human would freeze at the coldness of Malleus’ breath or cough at the scent of death that comes with it. Cater simply grins up at him, eyes like mirrors, with a crooked smile that Malleus has rarely ever seen before. It’s a small thing, as close to a sad expression as Cater’s smiling mouth can get, but satisfaction blooms at the edges.
“Of course it’s finicky. But if you’re going to do something, you should do it right.”
“Even if you won’t remember the thing you’ve set out to do?” Malleus asks.
“Especially when you won’t remember the thing you’ve set out to do.”
“An admirable sentiment.”
Cater laughs, short and loud, as far from the musical chime of his practiced MagiCam laugh as one could get. You’d never suspect the polished idol of Heartslaybul could make such crude noises. But Malleus is beginning to find that this is part of Cater’s two-faced appeal.
He’s like Azul, almost, but Azul’s broken edges are turned outward – each breath a scar on the world for rejecting him. Cater’s existence is kinder, quieter, at least to other people. All his sharp pieces face inwards. Now that Malleus is looking for them, the psychic wounds are obvious.
“One selfie,” Malleus states solemnly, repeating the terms of their little agreement. “With you in my lap. After this, you forfeit your contact information to me, and I can give you any one order that you cannot disobey. And you will lose all memory of this deal. Correct?”
“’kay, ‘kay,” Cater hums, and Malleus can’t tell if he’s actually not listening or just pretending to. Cater tends to drop his cheerful façade when it’s just the two of them, especially if he knows he’s going to forget doing so in a few minutes time.
Why, Malleus isn’t sure. It isn’t as though he forgets what he’s witnessed, after all.
Maybe Cater expects him not to care. If Cater had been the empty-headed, vapid being he pretends to be, Malleus wouldn’t have. But Cater is a liar who’s fooled half the world and Malleus nearly counted himself among that number. If Cater weren’t careless, Malleus might have overlooked this diamond in the rough.
In his lap, Cater hums, shifting until both his legs are sprawled faux-carelessly over one of Malleus’ thighs. “This isn’t working. Your horns keep making the shadows on my face weird. Can you, like, stop doing that?”
“Certainly. Do you wish to renegotiate the deal to include that?”
Cater makes a face at him, not a trace of fear in his blank, reflective eyes. Delightful. And interesting. “You know what, let’s just lie down.”
Malleus inclines his head and gathers Cater up in his arms. Cater doesn’t weigh much. Observation suggests that he may be starving himself, either in the desperate quest for more ‘hits’ and ‘views’ or simply to try and attain a form of elusive self-satisfaction. That, Malleus thinks, will be the first thing he addresses: a healthy eating schedule. If he phrases the command right, Cater won’t even realize it’s been invoked. Won’t even realize he made this deal with Malleus. Won’t have anything to stop him from stepping fearlessly into this trap again, and again, and again.
An unscrupulous fae could do all sorts of things with the kind of open-ended deals Cater likes to make. Maybe that’s why Cater makes them. Maybe he’s been waiting for someone to swipe away the glittery film and notice the fearless cunning that leads a human youth to ask something like Malleus Draconia to take a photo with him, over and over, with such a fake smile on his face. If so, the wait will soon be over. That bravery, the painstaking attention to detail with which Cater constructs his facade, even the blunt honesty that lies underneath it – all of them are too lovely to waste. There are just a few things that need to be pruned out before Malleus can appreciate him properly.
The eating disorder will go first. Then the hours spent lying motionless refreshing MagiCam over and over, watching the notes tick up. Then the habitual lying. Malleus can’t fight Cater in the arena of social media, and he’s not going to try. He’ll strike where Cater is most vulnerable: in the real life Cater has become so detached from. The thought is exhilarating.
“Whoa! Okay, you’re eager.” Another crooked grin, too many teeth to be MagiCam worthy. “Or did you just want to hold me?”
“Hm. Both.” Malleus smiles into the nape of Cater’s neck, scarred with the remnants of bites he can’t remember. A souvenir from the first time they dealt with each other, a precious moment Cater gave away without a second thought. There will come a time when Cater asks – no, begs – Malleus to claim him and cackles when he realizes Malleus already has.
Really, Cater should be more careful when dealing with the fae. But Malleus is glad he isn’t.