Chapter Text
Floyd was bored.
Not the normal bored where you float around the Lounge and poke at customers until Azul looks like he’s about to combust. This was the winter-break-aftershock bored—where everything felt too dull.
Jade had called it “restlessness,” in that calm voice he used when he was being annoying on purpose.
“Maybe you should cook,” Jade had suggested earlier, smiling like he already knew Floyd would either set something on fire or accidentally create a masterpiece. “It will occupy your hands. Plus we did get that new shipment of ingredients ”
Floyd had squinted at him. “Why.”
Jade’s smile had widened. “Because when your hands are occupied, you squeeze fewer people.”
Floyd had laughed—one sharp little burst—Jade could be so difficult at times, and they called him the better twin.
So Floyd cooked.
Not because he cared. Not because he’d planned it. Just because the kitchen was there, and he was there, and it was better then just lying in bed doing nothing all day.
He moved around the Octavinelle kitchens like he also did when he decided to cook, sleeves pushed up, humming to himself, grabbing bowls and ingredients with the lazy confidence of someone who didn’t need instructions.
He was looking though the shipment when he found something that caught his eye, It was a bright red carton strawberries. He didn’t even know why his eyes were drawn to them —he just saw the bright red in the crate and his brain went oh.
Red.
Red like—
Goldfishie.
Floyd paused mid-reach, fingers hovering over the fruit. He blinked at them like they’d personally insulted him by reminding him of something.
Goldfishie had been in his own kind of sour mood since winter break ended.
Not the fun kind of mood where he turned red and shouted and chased him. Floyd liked that. That was the good stuff. That was fun.
This was the other kind.
Sulky.
Snappy.
Too controlling.
Goldfishie was always controlling, sure, but lately it had been… more aggressive. Like he’d swallowed one of his dorms rulebook and it was sitting in his chest.
Sure it had been fun to play with his Goldfishie like that…for a little bit. Then it got old and boring.
Floyd rolled a strawberry between his fingers, watching the red skin shine under the kitchen lights.
“Hm,” he hummed, already feeling a grin tug at his mouth.
he decided then. He was going to make a dessert.
Something strawberry and creamy and soft, a nice simple strawberry cake. It didn’t take long to complete and by the end it look pretty damn good.
And then he put it on a plate, wiped his hands, and went hunting.
Heartslabyul was always bright and neat, the air always smelled of tea and roses everytime Floyd managed to sneak into the dorm.
He wandered through the dorm like he belonged there, listening for any sign of Glodfishie, the particular click of heels, yelling, or even the soft muttering Goldfishie does sometime when reading.
And speak of the devil, he found him in one of the common areas, exactly where you’d expect: Siting down with a book open across his lap, posture straight and uncomfortably, and eyes narrowed.
Riddle noticed Floyd instantly, expression tightening like he’d just seen a spider on the ceiling.
“Floyd Leech,” Riddle said, voice sharp. “What are you doing here.”
Floyd held the plate behind his back like a gift.
He smiled wide, all teeth. “Brought somethin’.”
Riddle’s eyes flicked down, suspicious. “I did not request anything from you.”
“Didn’t say you did,” Floyd sang, stepping closer. “But I made it anyway.”
Riddle’s shoulders stiffened. “You made… something.” Suspicion was already evident in his gaze as he tried to peak at what Floyd was holding behind his back.
“Uh-huh.” Floyd leaned in slightly, hiding the plate better as he watching his face like it was the most interesting thing at the moment. “Sure did!”
Riddle blinked and titled his head in question. Though he still tried to look disinterested and intimidating. “Why?”
Floyd’s smile widened again because there it was. That little edge. Floyd loved that about him. It made him so easy to poke.
“Just cause, I don’t need a reason do I?“ Floyd said plainly. “I was bored and usually Goldfishie is fun to play with”
Said boys cheeks colored faintly. “Excuse me?”
Floyd shrugged one shoulder. “You’ve been sulky. I like it better when you yell at me.”
His Goldfishie’s glare sharpened so fast it could’ve cut glass. “You—you are unbelievable. If that’s the only reason then I definitely don’t want what ever you have”
“Aww, don’t be like that Goldfishie.” Floyd pouted , but never one to give up he kept pushing. “I made it just for you! It’s got strawberries and everything! Come on at least try it.”
Riddle’s face didn’t really change then, but he did look interested. But that didn’t last long, his eyes narrowed. “Absolutely not.”
Floyd stepped closer, invading his space like he always did, bending down just a little so he could see Goldfishie’s face better. “Why not?”
“Because you are clearly attempting to bait me, and am not in the mood” he snapped back.
Floyd pouted exaggeratedly. “I made somethin’ sweet for you and you’re gonna be mean about it?”
The red head didn’t even bat an eye at him . “I did not ask for it.”
Floyd leaned in even closer. “Isn’t there like a rule or something about accepting gifts?”
Riddle’s eyes widened a fraction. “That- well yes but-!” He sputtered out, caught of guard.
Floyd grinned. “Then open up!”
The smaller boys jaw clenched. “Floyd, if you attempt to force—am not going to let you feed me what ever it is your attempting to make me eat!”
“Force?” Floyd echoed, laughing softly. “Goldfishie, I’m just bein’ nice.”
The red haired male looked like he didn’t believe the concept of Floyd being nice could exist.
Floyd lifted the plate into view at last, presenting the dessert and setting it on the table in front of Riddle.
It was a neat little slice strawberry cake—soft cream, Bright white colored frosting,with bright fruit layered on top.
Riddle stared at it.
His expression didn’t soften, but his eyes… shifted. Just a little. Like something in him leaned forward despite himself.
Floyd caught it immediately.
“Ooooh,” Floyd commented in a sing song kind of tone. “You like?”
His snapped his gaze away. “I am not interested.”
Floyd tilted his head. “You’re lyin’.”
“I am not,” Riddle hissed, cheeks warming again.
Floyd laughed, and the sound came out too bright. “You’re gonna turn red.”
The others glare returned full force. “You are being ridiculous.”
Floyd plucked up a fork, scooped a bite, and held it near Riddle’s mouth.
He froze. “Floyd.”
Floyd’s eyes glittered. “Open.”
“I will not—”
“Goldfishie. One bite.”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “Why are you doing this. I don’t understand you one bit”
Floyd blinked like the answer was obvious. “’just cause.” Like it was the most normal reason ever to bake cake for someone.
The others eyes narrowed. “That is not a proper reason.”
Floyd leaned even closer, voice lowering into something almost gentle—almost. “C’mon. Just one. If it’s gross, you can yell at me.”
He hesitated.
Floyd just watched, for once not pushing. He just held the fork waiting for Riddle to open his mouth
And then—surprisingly and maybe a little to easily—he opened his mouth and took the bite.
Floyd waited while the other chewed.
The red heads eyes widened just slightly.
Floyd leaned in, practically vibrating. “Well?”
He swallowed.
And for a second—just a second—his expression cracked. The tiniest softness, like warmth slipping through a door that was usually locked. A different kind of flush appeared on his face.
“It’s…” Riddle began, then stopped like try to chose his words carefully.
Floyd’s eyes shone. “It’s whaaaat.”
“It is… surprisingly good.”
Floyd laughed loud enough to earn a couple glances from nearby Heartslabyul students. “Goldfishie said I did good!”
Riddle snapped, “Do not call me—”
Floyd scooped another bite and held it up again, unbothered. “More.”
Riddle stiffened. “No.”
Floyd’s grin sharpened. “Yes.”
Riddle glared at him like he was about to start reciting rules.
Floyd tilted the fork closer. “It would be wasteful not to finish it.”
The other stiffed for a moment before sighing and shyly opening his mouth again
Floyd hummed as he feed The other again, watching him, and something about the way Goldfishie refused—while clearly wanting to—made Floyd feel like he’d just found a new game.
“More,” Floyd repeated, voice sing-song.
Riddle’s eye twitched. “Floyd.”
“More,” Floyd sang again.
Riddle clenched his jaw. “Stop.”
Floyd leaned closer, smiling like a shark. “Make me.”
Riddle’s cheeks went redder. “This is harassment.” But even so he opened his mouth again
Floyd laughed. “Nah”
Riddle chewed and sallowed. Haft the cake was already gone by now. Floyd just nudge another forkful closer.
he took another bite.
And another.
Floyd watched every tiny change—the way Riddle’s shoulders loosened by degrees, the way his eyes stopped looking so sharp, the way his cheeks stayed warm with color instead of fading.
It was pretty.
Floyd’s chest did something weird at that, and he immediately ignored it.
Instead he leaned back, satisfied. “See? It good.”
Riddle swallowed, then glared at him again, like he remembered he was supposed to be angry. “I do not understand you.”
Floyd just smiled, he definitely wasn’t bored anymore.