[ficlet] [oneshot] What I Did Immediately After My First Orgasm
Title: What I Did Immediately After My First Orgasm
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou!
Characters/Pairings: Yuuri/Murata (or Murata/Yuuri)
Genre: Fluff/Humor
Words: 962
Notes: Written for round 19 of kkm_challenge, the prompt is the title.
The first time they'd had sex, Yuuri had a minor nervous breakdown afterward. Murata sat quietly, sheet arranged over his lap, as the young king scrambled into his pants and shirt and then began to pace the room, muttering and making flailing hand gestures as he tried to figure out if what they'd done "made him gay". Not the most pleasant situation to handle, not by a long shot, but not completely unexpected, either. Murata let him fret as he liked for a good long while, deciding that since his friend had made no attempt to actually leave the room, the circumstances were not as bad as they seemed.
"... my old lady's gonna flip. Wait... no, she'll probably think it's awesome," Yuuri muttered as he continued to try and wear a rut in the carpet. "God, am I the only sane person in my family?" He glanced quickly over toward the bed where Murata still sat, arms resting on his knees, and cringed. "Shit, we're all nuts..."
"Shibuya," Murata began, finally, before the king could move from his mother's expected reaction to what his older brother would likely say. "You don't have to tell anyone anything unless you want to, you know."
Yuuri stared at him in horror. "Why would I tell people about this?!" Murata wondered who, exactly, Yuuri expected to leak the information if it weren't him. Apparently, his previous fretting had not included the possibility that he, himself, would confess.
Murata inwardly chided himself for giving the king something new to overreact to. "Did you just expect people to be able to guess?" he asked, eyebrow quirked. He really should be trying to be more sympathetic. Or, at least, try and calm his friend down before Yuuri managed to actually offend him.
His friend paused, then his eyes widened. "Oh, I'm so dead," he muttered before covering his face. "I suck at keeping secrets; I always wind up telling Shouri what I got him for his birthday..."
Rolling his eyes, Murata uncurled slowly and made his way to the side of the bed. The instant he moved, he saw Yuuri's attention focus on the way the sheet shifted and reminded them both that one of them had not felt any need to get dressed. Their states of habiliment seemed a perfect display of their thoughts about the situation. "Shibuya, come here." Murata held out his hand. Yuuri eyed it as if he were about to panic. However, when the Sage showed no inclination to pull back, he inched forward, awkwardly. Murata had to smile at the light blush that rose on his friend's cheeks, and how he kept glancing up to meet his eyes, then looked away quickly.
Yuuri came to stand beside the bed, but didn't take the offered hand. Murata let it rest in his own lap and sighed. "You're going to give yourself a heart attack," he teased gently. "And you're much too young for one."
The king's shoulders slumped and he buried his face in his hands. "How come you're all calm about this?"
"I rather enjoyed what we did," Murata replied, then smiled sympathetically when Yuuri's face turned bright red.
"But… I thought you liked girls."
Murata nearly laughed at that, the part of him that was amused at this entire conversation howled in his head. Instead, he shrugged, keeping a tight rein on himself as always. Well, not exactly always, but that had largely been Yuuri's tongue's fault... Murata quickly quashed that part of him as well. He reached up and nudged one of Yuuri's hands away from his face. The king reluctantly met his eyes. "I like you, too."
Another cringe, but the movement brought Yuuri's leg closer to Murata's knee, so the Sage let it go. "Why me?"
Another shrug. "Because you're you."
Yuuri dropped his hands in order to roll his eyes. "It's not that simple, stupid."
Murata grinned and leaned back onto his hands, comfortable as he looked up at the other teen. "Sure it is." His grin softened into more of a smile. "Which one of us has four thousand years of experience here? Trust me, it's exactly that simple."
His friend still clearly didn't trust his words, but something else had appeared in his expression; a sort of wistful hunger for what Murata said to be true. "But, we're both guys..."
"Do I disgust you, Shibuya?"
Yuuri's eyes widened, then his face pinched in a defiant frown. "No!"
Murata let himself feel the little skip in his heartbeat, smiled, then returned to the conversation. "Then just remember that, if it helps. It's just me, and it's just you. That's it." Of course, Yuuri was right in that things weren't as simple as Murata was trying to convince him they were; but that was a different conversation, for a much, much later time. Right now, Murata's only aim was to get the king to calm down, and he was not above oversimplifying things if it achieved his goal.
"Just me and you, hm?" Yuuri fingered the sheet, rubbing it between his fingers as he thought that over. Then he broke into a hesitant grin. "Well, I guess that's not too bad." Murata was often horrified or exasperated at his friend's ability to not only dismiss reality but also dismiss it and believe the fiction he created in its place. But then, he remembered that Yuuri was equally skilled in making the fiction become the reality. Perhaps he could do the same, eventually, in this case.
Murata shifted his weight to one hand and tugged on Shibuya's sleeve with the other. "The only thing that's bad right now is you're there and I'm here. You need to fix that."
Yuuri stared at him for a moment, then laughed.
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou!
Characters/Pairings: Yuuri/Murata (or Murata/Yuuri)
Genre: Fluff/Humor
Words: 962
Notes: Written for round 19 of kkm_challenge, the prompt is the title.
The first time they'd had sex, Yuuri had a minor nervous breakdown afterward. Murata sat quietly, sheet arranged over his lap, as the young king scrambled into his pants and shirt and then began to pace the room, muttering and making flailing hand gestures as he tried to figure out if what they'd done "made him gay". Not the most pleasant situation to handle, not by a long shot, but not completely unexpected, either. Murata let him fret as he liked for a good long while, deciding that since his friend had made no attempt to actually leave the room, the circumstances were not as bad as they seemed.
"... my old lady's gonna flip. Wait... no, she'll probably think it's awesome," Yuuri muttered as he continued to try and wear a rut in the carpet. "God, am I the only sane person in my family?" He glanced quickly over toward the bed where Murata still sat, arms resting on his knees, and cringed. "Shit, we're all nuts..."
"Shibuya," Murata began, finally, before the king could move from his mother's expected reaction to what his older brother would likely say. "You don't have to tell anyone anything unless you want to, you know."
Yuuri stared at him in horror. "Why would I tell people about this?!" Murata wondered who, exactly, Yuuri expected to leak the information if it weren't him. Apparently, his previous fretting had not included the possibility that he, himself, would confess.
Murata inwardly chided himself for giving the king something new to overreact to. "Did you just expect people to be able to guess?" he asked, eyebrow quirked. He really should be trying to be more sympathetic. Or, at least, try and calm his friend down before Yuuri managed to actually offend him.
His friend paused, then his eyes widened. "Oh, I'm so dead," he muttered before covering his face. "I suck at keeping secrets; I always wind up telling Shouri what I got him for his birthday..."
Rolling his eyes, Murata uncurled slowly and made his way to the side of the bed. The instant he moved, he saw Yuuri's attention focus on the way the sheet shifted and reminded them both that one of them had not felt any need to get dressed. Their states of habiliment seemed a perfect display of their thoughts about the situation. "Shibuya, come here." Murata held out his hand. Yuuri eyed it as if he were about to panic. However, when the Sage showed no inclination to pull back, he inched forward, awkwardly. Murata had to smile at the light blush that rose on his friend's cheeks, and how he kept glancing up to meet his eyes, then looked away quickly.
Yuuri came to stand beside the bed, but didn't take the offered hand. Murata let it rest in his own lap and sighed. "You're going to give yourself a heart attack," he teased gently. "And you're much too young for one."
The king's shoulders slumped and he buried his face in his hands. "How come you're all calm about this?"
"I rather enjoyed what we did," Murata replied, then smiled sympathetically when Yuuri's face turned bright red.
"But… I thought you liked girls."
Murata nearly laughed at that, the part of him that was amused at this entire conversation howled in his head. Instead, he shrugged, keeping a tight rein on himself as always. Well, not exactly always, but that had largely been Yuuri's tongue's fault... Murata quickly quashed that part of him as well. He reached up and nudged one of Yuuri's hands away from his face. The king reluctantly met his eyes. "I like you, too."
Another cringe, but the movement brought Yuuri's leg closer to Murata's knee, so the Sage let it go. "Why me?"
Another shrug. "Because you're you."
Yuuri dropped his hands in order to roll his eyes. "It's not that simple, stupid."
Murata grinned and leaned back onto his hands, comfortable as he looked up at the other teen. "Sure it is." His grin softened into more of a smile. "Which one of us has four thousand years of experience here? Trust me, it's exactly that simple."
His friend still clearly didn't trust his words, but something else had appeared in his expression; a sort of wistful hunger for what Murata said to be true. "But, we're both guys..."
"Do I disgust you, Shibuya?"
Yuuri's eyes widened, then his face pinched in a defiant frown. "No!"
Murata let himself feel the little skip in his heartbeat, smiled, then returned to the conversation. "Then just remember that, if it helps. It's just me, and it's just you. That's it." Of course, Yuuri was right in that things weren't as simple as Murata was trying to convince him they were; but that was a different conversation, for a much, much later time. Right now, Murata's only aim was to get the king to calm down, and he was not above oversimplifying things if it achieved his goal.
"Just me and you, hm?" Yuuri fingered the sheet, rubbing it between his fingers as he thought that over. Then he broke into a hesitant grin. "Well, I guess that's not too bad." Murata was often horrified or exasperated at his friend's ability to not only dismiss reality but also dismiss it and believe the fiction he created in its place. But then, he remembered that Yuuri was equally skilled in making the fiction become the reality. Perhaps he could do the same, eventually, in this case.
Murata shifted his weight to one hand and tugged on Shibuya's sleeve with the other. "The only thing that's bad right now is you're there and I'm here. You need to fix that."
Yuuri stared at him for a moment, then laughed.