First Time
Blankets seemed to engulf Kuki's slight, naked form, heavy down covering her from head to chin despite the heat of mid-July. Beneath the sheets, her skin was sticky with sweat and saliva and, between her legs, seed. Her hair, normally so strait and clean, was twisted and plastered to her neck and face; she fought the urge to move it, to arrange it into some semblance of its previous beauty. She didn't want to move just yet. She was afraid.
Her stomach hurt.
It had happened so fast, she hadn't really seen it coming. Nothing that occurred that night pointed to this, to her in his bed, breathing in his scent on his pillow, his taste in her mouth. Yet suddenly it had all been there, all of him, his chest, his arms, his mouth, his tongue, the curve of his ass, his legs tangled in the sheets. All of her, too. It had been wonderful. Now she was scared.
Kuki shifted slightly and the pain flared sharply in her lower stomach once again. Biting back a gasp, she placed an arm over her abdomen and pressed slightly, hoping to ease the ache. It was supposed to hurt after the first time, she had been told. Like cramps. It was normal, nothing big. Don't worry about it.
Worry still came, but it wasn't about that.
Thoughts flooded her mind, memories long past and not-so long past: The boy, short, angry, cute and naïve. The innocence of the first few years, of him blushing and her giggling, the unexpected hugs, the tentative hand holding. Then they had become teenagers and things had become less innocent, more passionate. Kisses between classes, making-out on her couch when her parents were gone and her sister was out, her teeth on his earlobe, his hand on her bare thigh. Now they were here.
Kuki wondered if it was normal to think about these kinds of things after making love. It wasn't as if she had experience with this.
She wondered if the silence was normal.
He hadn't said anything, not a word, not a murmur. This is what frightened Kuki. What if something was wrong? Had she been terrible? Was he disappointed or was it something… worse?
Regret. The prospect sent ice needles down her spine. She didn't know what she'd do if he regretted what he'd just done, the act he'd just committed with her. She didn't regret it; she knew that nothing could make her regret it. Except for him. His denial, his rejection, that would make her regret. She couldn't handle him walking away from her, from them, from this. She had her heart, her soul invested into him. For years and years, he had been inside her long before this night. Heart break wouldn't even begin to cover it. Heart shattered might come close. Might.
She felt him turn beside her in the bed and her heart kicked up a few paces as he pressed his body against her back. Butterflies began to invade her throat.
Placing his arm over-top her stomach and along side her own, he used his free hand to caress her face, pulling away the raven strands from her neck and cheeks, smoothing it out. She let out a soft sigh. How did he always know?
"Does it hurt?" Wally asked voice sleepy and thick.
Kuki smiled. Carefully, she turned in his loose embrace to face him. Placing a hand on his jaw, she kissed him as she had so many times before, soft and warm.
"No," she said, moving back slightly. "There's nothing to worry about."
A/N: Kuki angst this time! It's entirely possible that I misrepresented some aspect of sex in writing this; I haven't exactly done it before. Also, this is about a racy as I'll ever get, so if you can deal with this, you should be pretty much prepared for anything I'm gonna submit.