Author's Notes (IE a fair warning): Sappiness in drabble form.
Certainty
They first time they did it, the big it, was awkward and uncomfortable. They waited a week before trying again. That time the motions were smoother and by the end of the summer the rhythm of their sexual encounters would have made any married couple proud.
But, none of that was important because Rowen was certain they were happy together.
The first place they ever made love was on the couch in Rowen's father's apartment. It was blue and the fabric was itchy and stiff against Rowen's back. There was an old movie on TV (something about Italian cowboys) and it just sort of happened.
Ryo's hair was loose and soft looking (and admittedly dirty), tucked behind the smooth curve of his ear. His shirt smelt a bit strangely or, maybe, that was the couch, at any rate- they hadn't planned it.
Rowen always thought the media portrayed the "first time" unrealistically. Still it had never occurred to him that he wouldn't have the bed of roses or the sea of candles or the beautiful blonde virgin who would someday bare his children.
But, none of that was important because Rowen was sure it couldn't have been anymore perfect.
When Ryo sank onto him, Rowen watched the sweat bead off the tip of his nose. Watched him bite his lip and smile shyly. Watched the pimple on his chin and the mole on his temple. Watched the way his body trembled unsure but, excited.
But, really, none of that was important because Rowen was certain he was beautiful.
Afterwards, Ryo swore it hadn't really hurt. Which was ridiculous because it had hurt Rowen some and wasn't it suppose to be the other way around? And, afterwards, they laid on the kitchen floor and found patterns in the cracks in the ceiling. And, afterwards, they held hands and didn't talk anymore about the big it.
But, none of that was important because Rowen was certain they were in love.
And they were.
