#cha.rollo

The urge to look into your room is unbearable. So, on the day that he can least afford distractions, during the time that you are eating breakfast together with all those disgusting mages, he sneaks in. He has a key that fits every lock.

And, right there, on your bed, your suitcase has been left wide open, beckoning him. Rollo simply can't resist. His legs are staggering, and his fingers are shaking as he reaches out to the first thing he sees: one of your shirts. As soon as he grabs it, he crumples to his knees, and hugs the fabric to his chest. A whiff of your scent travels up to his nose.

Rollo is breathing through his mouth, trying to keep it calm and under control, but it keeps speeding up. With a shudder, he realises that he's hard.

(And this, this is what he hates. This is a part of himself that is unapologetically selfish. It hungers.)

You've been nice to him. You've smiled to him. To all of his explanations about the history of the City of Flowers, you listened with unblemished interest. There is little to justify such a strong attraction, in such little time- But this is how he feels, isn't it? And tonight, after the Crimson Lotuses have dyed the city red, you will look at him with nothing but gratitude in your eyes.

With a hiss, a sharp intake of breath, Rollo buries his nose into your shirt, and places his hand over the bulge in his pants. He rubs so hard it burns, rutting against it and feeling (filthy, disgusting) a kind of relief. Tears spring to his eyes and stain the fabric of your shirt.

This can't be him, he tells himself, this is not a part of him. He's not like any of the others, he's good. All this is, is magic corrupting him- He had no choice. Tonight, he'll be released from its tainting influence forever. It's fine, he's good, and you'll tell him that, in your gratitude, you'll never be able to forget him-

In record time, he cums, staining the inside of his underwear and pants. All of the energy is sapped from his body at once, and he falls forward. In this position, he looks like someone kneeling at an altar. He bunches his hands up, the fabric wrinkling in his hands.

Watching two people making out is enough to get him slightly flustered, but only because he imagines doing such things with you. The two strangers on the screen touching each other, seeing their tongues and their spit... Makes him feel vaguely ill. It’s filthy. But your tongue caressing his own, the tip of your tongue rubbing against the top of his mouth- It makes him squirm. Rollo is no stranger to getting random erections, every guy his age gets them occasionally, but he’s certain this one is not merely random. Never before has the urge to touch himself been as strong as now. The scene on his phone screen has long since been abandoned, and all he can think about is you. He tries to pace around and wait until it goes away.

His building thoughts culminate into a single moment, where he finally makes a move while you lean in to kiss him. Rollo, despite all his research, has no idea what he’s doing, and simply pushes his tongue against your closed lips. Immediately, he pulls away.

“Ah... I, I- My apologies.” Rollo fumbles to pull his handkerchief out of his pocket, and nearly drops it to the ground in doing so. His face is burning up like never before. He feels a little better after taking a deep breath or two. “I shouldn’t have done that without asking. Was it- Are you alright?”

You smile at him, and it has his heart fluttering. “I’m fine, really! I barely felt it.” You laugh a little, but he doesn’t feel like he’s being made fun off. “But, please be honest- I know kissing isn’t like your favourite thing in the world, so you aren’t just doing this to make me happy, are you...? You don’t have to force yourself for me. In fact, please don’t.”

“I can promise you that’s not the case,” Rollo says. “This was something... Of a personal desire of mine, yes. I’ve never minded your kisses in the past either.” He crosses his arms and presses them close to his chest. “I will admit that I simply didn’t know how to respond yet. I’ve tried to educate myself further on the subject, but, ah... I’m not certain I’ve made much progress yet.”

Something in your expression, your smile, shifts a little. “The only way to get better at kissing, is through practice. Nothing else. Should we try?” Rollo’s throat suddenly feels a bit dry, but he finds himself nodding nonetheless. 

When you press your lips to his, and your warm cheek presses against his cold skin, he’s already content. You mirror his previous action, the tip of your tongue brushing against his mouth. He parts his lips without hesitation. Your mouth makes a little noise as you readjust your head, tilting it a bit further to the side as you slide your tongue in. For a moment, Rollo’s surprised at how well he’s still breathing, until it feels awfully obvious.

Your tongue inside him feels both bigger and smaller than he expected. He tries to reciprocate, and though he’s sure the way he’s swirling his tongue around yours is clumsy, he hasn’t felt this good in ages. When you slide over the top of his mouth, a noise he’s never made before gets pulled from his throat. It’s a much more sensitive spot than he could have imagined. 

Your kiss swept most of coherent thoughts from his mind. Once it’s over, Rollo is a little dazed and breathless. He leans forward to try and chase your touch when you pull away, without even realizing it. He doesn’t even try to hide his face. Nor does he clean it, despite a dribble of spit sliding down his skin. (It’s not filthy, as long as it comes from you.) All at once, he becomes conscious of just how warm he feels within, and folds his hands over his lap in a flurry of motion.

...or so you’ve heard. apparently, he’s straggling around campus, completely oblivious to his surroundings and ignoring anyone who tries to help him. after someone heard him muttering your name on repeat, they decided to request your assistance. when they lead you to the place he was before though, he’s nowhere to be found. 

you end up finding him on your own, alone, having somehow stumbled his way up to one of the lower levels of the belltower. he’s sitting on the floor, hat crooked on his head. his eyes stare into nothing, but his mouth is moving without stopping for even a single moment. you step forward, and the floor creaks. rollo jolts and looks up.

the change is immediate. 

a smile spreads over his face. it’s so wide and without restraint that it looks wrong on his face, a complete disconnect from the rollo you know. he gets to his feet, stumbling and nearly falling back onto his knees. as you rush over to help him and try to get him up, he decides to crash all of his weight against you instead, dragging you to the floor with him. he’s breathing heavily, and mumbling your name on repeat. 

“i finally... finally found you...”

you quickly realise that having rollo on top of you right now is very, very unfortunate. his face is deeply flushed, his irises having morphed from a deep green to a light pink. he wraps both of his arms around you, tightly, presses his face into the crook of your neck, and inhales.

he tries to grind against you, and though you realise what he’s doing, you can’t really feel his cock through the thick layers of his uniform. the metal bell on his chest presses cold and heavy against you. rollo starts to whine in frustration, and you can feel warm tears drip down against your throat. he’s trembling all over, twitching, feverish. suffering. 

maybe you should… 

“rollo, um,” you try to keep your voice steady, secure. at the sound of your voice, he presses his face even closer to your skin. “i’ll… i can help. but you’ll need to let go of me first. can you do that?” his hips don’t stop moving for even a moment. “please? i promise it’ll feel better.” 

that seems to do the trick. rollo doesn’t really move, but he loosens his hold on you to the extent you can gently wrap an arm around him and flip him over. you shift your position until you’re above him on your hands and knees, looking down at him. rollo is a sight to behold. his cheeks are streaked with tears, pupils blown wide and eyes hazy. you run your hand over his forehead. his skin is feverish and slick with sweat.

he reaches for your wrist, and you let him grab it. rollo mumbles something incoherent, before pressing his face against your palm. he presses a kiss to your hand, lingering there for a moment… and then he starts to lick. you try to jolt your hand away on instinct, but his grip only turns crushing. for his sake, you hope he doesn’t remember this encounter. instead of admiring him in his current state, you guess you must fulfill your promise.

you fiddle with his clothes, but don’t manage to get your hand underneath his underwear before he’s desperately grinding against you. with a loud keen, his body seizes, and a wet patch forms underneath your hand. that took less effort than you anticipated. you look up at rollo. you’re expecting the pink to have faded from his eyes, for his expression to have gone slack. 

instead, you only glimpse a glint of eyes that are practically glowing, then sloppy, open-mouthed kisses smother your face. he’s panting even harder, groping and touching without rhyme or reason. touching simply because he can, pure self indulgence. he’s out of it, you tell yourself, it’s not his fault, he is, he is— 

Rollo himself doesn't have much romantic or sexual experience. It'd be more accurate to say that he has none. Though he won't tell this to your face, he'd prefer it if you didn't have previous experience either. Even if you do, he'll convince himself that he can outdo them and wipe them out of your memory. There is no one else in the world who could match his dedication to you. ...If only he'd been there to protect you earlier.

Rather than being on the receiving end, he'd prefer to be the one giving you pleasure. If you are insistent enough however, he'll always submit in the end. Either way, he likes taking orders from you and fulfilling them to the best of his ability. He'd even be willing to indulge in kinks that he'd otherwise have no interest in, or that he dislikes, if it's clear that you're set on trying. His own boundaries quickly fold, but he'll always try to convince you to enjoy something different first.

Rollo gets high grades across the board because of his amazing work ethic and discipline. When it comes to the topic of bringing you pleasure, he treats it as his latest study subject, reading and watching everything he thinks might be useful. To him, it's incredibly gratifying when he manages to get you off, and it feels cleansing to do so while never experiencing pleasure himself. It makes him feel in control of himself, and that he's a good person, unlike greedy others (mages) who'd have their own demands.

(And in doing so, he satisfies the voice in the back of his head that tells him that a person such as himself doesn't deserve any pleasure whatsoever, that he is already being too indulgent looking at you and touching you as he is, that he is weak for loving you before he has brought forth the change he has seen in the world- Constant contradictions plague his brain as he worships your body, but he thinks that if you look upon him as if he were a good person, he can keep going. He'll know all of his causes are right. He'll wear selflessness on his sleeve while being anything but.)

If you let Rollo take the lead, he will be taking it very slow. He wants to savour this experience and, at this moment, is thinking of your pleasure more than his own. Before anything else, he tells you that he loves you. He’s incredibly happy that he can be a part of the rest of your life. His hands tremble during the first kiss. But as time goes on and he settles into his own pace, his tongue sliding against yours, he will be able to ease up at least a little bit. Rollo is not the type to speak during sex in general, however, on your wedding night he will be especially quiet and focused. Perhaps this makes things slightly awkward for you, but he’s simply trying his best. 

He’ll want to get you off with his mouth or fingers first, and would highly appreciate your guidance. Rollo’s pride is not hurt when you tell him to move his mouth slightly higher, or to crook his fingers in the other direction. In fact, he’s only happy to know things he could improve on. He’s tried to do plenty of research but, through this, he already found out that each person has different preferences. He only cares about learning yours. If you want to return the favour, he’ll protest once. At your insistence though, he’ll be sure to give in. He’s rather sensitive and doesn’t get off often, a combination that leads to him cumming quick and loads. 

Rollo doesn’t have the best stamina, but he makes it up for it through sheer determination. If he has one goal that night, it’s going to be to try and make you cum while he’s inside you. He doesn’t care if he also has to use his hands to push you over the edge, he’ll gladly do it. Once Rollo really gets into sex, after he’s finished once or twice, he turns a little insatiable. If you want him to stop though, he will always listen.

you make it hard to keep himself to his promises. though, at first, rollo had believed he’d been taking you underneath his wing- now, it sometimes seems like the roles have been reversed. you offer him food and, out of politeness alone, he could never have denied. but you stick with him until he has no choice but to give into his vices, and your smile almost makes it worth it. you never let him pay you back (the school already offers you so little money to begin with!), and so his debt to you only grows day by day.

you always insist he promises to go to bed early, and he does feel guilty for not holding onto it. both of you know it doesn’t achieve much. he saw your worries deepen the lines in your forehead day by day and, in the end, saw to it that the bags underneath his eyes were largely hidden by makeup. lying is a filthy deed, most definitely, but if it’s to keep a pure being such as yourself happy... that is a sacrifice he’s willing to make. he finds himself caring about your moods, your opinions of him, more and more. rollo doubts you share the depth of his feelings, and would never mention them. you deserve better.

(you deserve better, but he can’t help but wanting to be around you. your presence brings him peace of mind, even if it’s only temporary. rollo loves showing you around different parts of the city he loves so much, in the name of cultural education. really, he just wants an excuse to be around you more often. he is self-aware enough that his desire to be around you morphed into a need somewhere along the line, and depriving himself of your presence becomes a new form of personal torture.)

you hold a lightheartedness he can’t capture himself. you insist on telling him about ‘earth bonding practices’, or ‘totally normal greetings’, which he chooses to believe you on only because there is nothing that could possibly disprove you. he’ll let you kiss his cheek, and hold his hand around the schoolground, no matter how it makes him feel. (too good.) too embarrassing. you sneak pictures of him, too, and the ones he’s seen make him want to hide his face behind his handkerchief forever. his face, reddened with ugly blotches reaching up all the way from his neck. it’s horrific. no matter how often you call him cute, you’ll never be able to change his mind on that. 

he decides to take you under his wing. rollo has a busy schedule and, especially at first, his guidance extends to making sure you begin to understand the culture around you. because he has no time himself, he will assign you a tutor to help you keep up with the classes you’re being made to attend. you have an incredible amount of knowledge to catch up on, and none of it is any fault of your own. he’s much easier on you and more pleasant towards you than the rest of the student body, which is something that’s quickly picked up on. it’s the safe to say you’re his favourite, whether his fondness for you is returned or not.

rollo will always try to make time for you though, because he's absolutely fascinated with the world you've come from. it’s impossible for him not to get excited about a world without magic existing in some other universe, and thriving. he's hungry for whatever information you're willing to share, and can sometimes border on pushy when asking about it. he's actively taking notes. you could see this as his studious nature as the student council president poking through, but, in reality, it's for him to collect ideas as to how the world that will arise from the ashes might look like. your world functioned without magic, so, perhaps, emulating yours would be the most successful.

in return, he will tell you about his own thoughts and feelings on magic. on this subject, he’ll be much more honest than to anyone who has been born in twisted wonderland. they’ve had a lifetime’s worth of positive stories about magic. compared to them, you’re a blank slate. you’re one of the few who might understand his point of view, who could possibly understand him. it’s then his eyes burn with the most passion. he’ll pull out all the stops to try and get you on his side- primarily through weaponising your own feelings against you. weren’t you ripped away from your home, within the blink of an eye? don’t you remember all that you lost, and all that might still be waiting for you? it was all stolen from you. he wouldn’t even blame you for being mad at him as well; you’d be well within your right.