acquiesce
by mikkimikka for bbh0406
Pairing: Cecil x Camus
Summary: Cecil confesses. Camus' words don't match his actions.
Written for the UWFE:S1 (Utapri Writers Fic Exchange: Season 1)

The room was still. That in itself wasn't peculiar. That's the way their shared room often was. Camus kept to his side of the place and Cecil to his own. More to the point, the amount of tension that loomed over the pair that afternoon was exceedingly thick. Heavy. Cecil swallowed, legs drawn tightly together and fingers pressed into the knees of his trousers. He looked at Camus expecting an answer, and as the seconds ticked on it became more and more unlikely that he'd get one.

Cecil steeled himself for disappointment but now in the moment of things he found the feeling settling rather uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach.

"I like you."

That's what he had said.

Camus was reading a newspaper by the window. He was using natural light because it was easier on his eyes than the lamp. His glasses were still perched on his elegant high nose. His hair was tied up in a ponytail to keep it out of his face.

Perhaps it was a bad idea to interrupt Camus' reading time for his confession. Cecil's impulsive nature meant he was at times a blurter and the secret he'd been harboring needed out! So he said it, without reservation and fully understanding that there may be consequences. And now he waited.

Camus lowered his newspaper, revealing a face with normally stern brows now uncreased and eyes holding an altogether different emotion.

"I like you too."

That was not what Cecil thought he'd hear.

It was straight forward and honest. Nothing like the flowery language he'd come to expect from his senior. Yet, despite their conciseness, those words hit him right in the heart like a piercing arrow. Once again, the reckless nature showed through as Cecil got to his feet.

"You really mean it?"

"I wouldn't lie about something as serious as this," came Camus response.

That was enough for Cecil as he crossed the room. A cat with nine lives and no fear, he gripped Camus pale hands in his darker ones. He gave no warning. And squeezed. Green met blue as Camus was forced to look up at his junior from his seated position.

"Aijima, what are you-"

Camus never finished his sentence as it became very apparent what the prince had in his mind. A kiss. That's what he wanted. And Cecil, spoiled little one that he was, very rarely took no as an answer. That however, was the answer he got. As just as Camus caught whiff of his intentions, the count stood from his seat.

Cecil lost his balanced and stumbled, catching himself against the back of the now vacated chair. He turned to level an accusatory glare at his senior but Camus wasn't looking at him. Instead the pale man was straightening the cuffs of his shirt, observing the crystal studs as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Cam-"

"I have a schedule," Camus said, turning to catch Cecil's eyes with cold blue ones.

He didn't wait for an answer. Grabbing his scepter he was out of the door leaving a bewildered Cecil behind. Cecil was frozen for a moment before the situation finally caught up with him.

Rejected? He'd been rejected.

It would have stung. It should have struck true right there in the middle of his chest. And it did, a bit. But his shoulders didn't sag. That feeling was dulled by his confusion.

Camus didn't have any schedule for that evening. Camus knew that Cecil knew that. After all, before Cecil made the foolish choice to confess he'd confirmed with the senior that they could eat in the dining hall together for dinner.

So the only logical conclusion was that Camus had lied. Camus lied to get away from him.

"He said he liked me. Why?"

Was it a breech of etiquette? Had he been to forward to demand a kiss?

Camus didn't come back to the rooms that night. Or at least Cecil hadn't seen any evidence of it. He'd stayed awake, way past his usual bed time. He had been waiting and lying in the bed, hoping to catch a glimpse of the porcelain skin and champagne hair.

Cecil was greeted in the morning, by an empty bed on the other side of the room; sheets perfect as if untouched for the night. He'd never know if Camus decided to sneak in like a thief and out again.

Sitting up, Cecil rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched, falling back onto his mattress. He stared at the ceiling, tracing the ornate patterns with his eyes for what seemed like hours. Finally he willed himself out of bed with the intention of joining the others for breakfast. He hoped to push back the embarrassment of the previous evening from his head.

He had just thrown his legs over the side of the bed when the door clicked open, revealing Camus at the threshold. The frame of the door and his body blocked the light from the hall causing him to appear as a dark and ominous silhouette.

Camus spoke first, not bothering with a greeting.

"You're up."

Two steps in revealed Camus dressed in a different outfit than he wore the previous day.

'So he did come home last night,' thought Cecil.

Camus crossed the room and opened the shades letting the sun pour into the room at full force. They both knew that Cecil rarely woke up on his own as of late. It'd become somewhat of a ritual for Cecil to sleep in until Camus saw fit to rouse him. Even on the days when Cecil had an early schedule and Camus didn't Cecil could depend on it. Cecil had even stopped setting an alarm. It was so dependable.

Had Camus come back from wherever he went just to wake him? Cecil felt the beginnings of something warm growing in his chest at the thought.

"You came back to wake me up," Cecil finally said at length, voice clearly showed how pleased he felt.

Camus turned from the window, brow furrowed in his singular way. Only Camus could look so handsome with a look of scorn crossed his features.

"Fool!" his voice was too loud for the quiet morning. "I wouldn't return for something as trivial as being your personal alarm system!"

Camus was so pale though that the blush on rising to his cheeks betrayed him and spoke his true intentions. Camus held his head higher as if to compensate.

"I'd merely forgotten something."

"The great Camus forgetting something?"

Cecil quirked a dark brow, but he dared not crack the smile that fought to grace his lips. The teasing tone was not to be missed regardless.

Uncaring that he had been caught in the lie Camus moved to the side table and opened the drawer in an attempt to find distraction. Cecil loved being the only one allowed to see Camus like that; caught unaware, shy, frazzled. Perhaps those were normal feelings if displayed by any of the others, but Camus was not among their league.

This time Cecil did smile.

"You do like me, don't you?"

Camus glare remained but decreased in its intensity.

"I like you," he reaffirmed.

Cecil stood and took the few short steps across the room to where Camus was. He reached out and tenderly took that hand, noting how cool it felt. It soothed like a balm the warmth Cecil felt in his heart. Camus didn't move and instead allowed their eyes to meet. Cecil didn't want to hold back anymore. His grasp on Camus hand instinctively tightened.

"Can I...?" he asked as he pulled Camus down.

The intention was once again for a kiss.

He didn't expect Camus to break away. Not this time. Not again.

Cecil gasped in surprise by the action. Camus neglected to put any real distance between them but he did pull his hand out of Cecil's grasp.

"Wha-" Cecil began before his bewildered expression darkened and he snapped from the frustration. "What the heck is wrong? You tell me you like me! Then you just push me away and leave me alone all night! Then you come back and tell me again that you feel the same way but you keep pushing me away? If we like each other doesn't that mean we date? I want to touch you, I want to taste you, because you're the person I like!"

Cecil hadn't realized he was yelling until it was finished and he lowered his balled fist to his sides. He glowered, though it was out of hurt and confusion more than true anger.

"Are you finished?" Camus asked, looking unfazed and calm despite Cecil's outburst.

"W,well," stammered Cecil.

Camus rubbed the bridge of his nose with his finger then dropped his hand giving the prince a look that was a cross between smug and long-suffering. Once again that was an expression only Camus could quite pull off and look so good doing it.

"Are you really do daft? I suppose I couldn't expect more from someone as self absorbed as yourself."

Cecil bristled at the words but Camus went on.

"Perhaps it's difficult for someone as pea brained as you to quite understand," continued the blond. "Surprise confessions I am no stranger to. However, to receive someone that I... also, harbor feelings for... I needed time to piece together my own thoughts. I didn't spurn your advances with an intent to confuse. It was not my intention to muddle your simple brain nor cause you to fret. Normal people, and I realize you are not quite that, talk these things before they jump into it."

There were definitely insults peppered in there, but Cecil was relieved to hear it nonetheless. His facial expression softened.

"So you mean..."

"Yes, I like you. And I want to touch you...," confirmed Camus.

The count took a step forward and grabbed Cecil's hand again. He stroked his thumb against the back of Cecil's soft hand. His normally cold gaze was softer, much softer. Cecil thought he could sink into it.

"I want to taste you..."

Camus voice came out like velvet. Cecil's heart rate escalated from their proximity but the moment was cut short as Cecil was pushed back by the head of Camus' scepter and their hands disconnected.

"You cannot kiss people only because you want to. That is uncouth..," he went back into his scolding mode.

Camus turned away so that he presented to Cecil the expanse of his back.

"And as for this morning," he continued. "I will not kiss you until you brush your teeth."

Cecil jolted at that, cat like tendencies almost coming out as he latched onto Camus back. He lashed out.

"You jerk! I hate you so much. I-"

He stopped when he felt the rumble of Camus' laughter. Camus turned and draped his arm around Cecil's shoulder. The young prince, blessed with a surprise kiss on the forehead, flushed into a fervent red in an instant. It was Cecil's turn to break the connection. He pushed his way out of the hold. The cross look he gave in return was dampened as he ran out of the room mind in a jumble and heart in the most saccharine of twists.

Twin spots of pink lingered like fresh blossoms on ruddy cheeks.

Fin.

-Omake-

Camus poked his head into the bathroom!

"Make sure you brush for two minutes and use circular motions! I don't know where you've put your mouth," he barked.

Cecil spit into the sink and threw a toothpaste tube at his senior. Camus dodged it with ease.

"Why don't you brush yours or I'll get cavities by proxy from all that sugar!"

Natsuki and Syo watched from the hall seeing the interaction. Natsuki had a shine in his eyes.

"Ah, young love," cooed the taller of the two. "They go together like cat and dog."

"I... I don't think that's a good thing," was all Syo said to that.