omnivoracious | Honeymoon Suite;

[Aoko's face oft showcases the many emotions running through her at a time. It's one of the things Cyrus appreciates about her. Irritation is a helpful indicator of his failings, but this downcast display is different. His lips part and brow furrows in growing worry as he stands and walks over to her with measured steps, poised to reach out.]

What is it, my dear . . . ?

[She stands there, horribly aware of just how exposed she is, and wondering why she thought this was even a good idea--

But.

She hasn't even... given him a chance to properly respond.

She still hasn't managed to spit it out.

She shuffles in place awkwardly, threading her fingers together in front of her, staring fixedly at the ground.]

What do you... want? What do you like? I--I don't want to j-just... focus on what I want, because I really, really l-l--

[DEEP BREATH.]

I really like you...!

[Ordinarily, he would place a hand on her shoulder. He wonders as to the wisdom of doing so when she's so bare and touching her there would only serve as a reminder of that fact. Instead, he comes in low and cups her joined hands in his.]

I like you as well.

[This, he says sincerely without hesitation.]

. . . Truth be told, I don't know what I like.

[The who is clear. He's been endeared to her from the start. He likes her, and keeping the premise of the show in mind has helped him clear out the potential misunderstandings before his ignorance could grow them.

That being said, it hasn't prevented all of them.]

However, I do know that I want what's best for you. Pray forgive my ignorance: It appears I've mistaken your intention for something else . . . but that is my failing to reflect upon for another time. I suppose what I want now, then, is to ask . . . what do you want, Aoko?

[His hands are warm over hers, and as ever, he's so, so considerate. Isn't this how it always is...? When it really matters, he's the most reliable person here, and Aoko knows what she's weak to.

So quietly, she sighs, and her shoulders slump--but there's a tiny smile on her face despite how red she is, so it seems she's not disappointed in his response in the least.]

... I want to experience everything I can with you. While we're here, and we have all of this time and this space and nobody can interrupt us and...

[Is that still too vague? She doesn't want to be crude. This goes beyond just not being able to spit it out now--she wants to preserve at least some of the romance of the situation.]

Not just... spending time together. It's--physically.

... If... you're okay with that too.

[Dense though he may be, indifference to the subject till now is different still from ignorance. It takes a moment, then realization of what she means dawns with yet another realization that he's completely out of his depth. Aoko's hands weigh down on his as Cyrus puts together the pieces he seems to have foolishly missed.

She didn't dress down in preparation for the tub. No, she meant to entice him. And he can't say that he finds the sight of her, slender and fair-skinned with the vibrant contrast of bewitching red to paint another side of her he hadn't seen before, undesirable. On the contrary, she's as lovely as ever.

The sort of desire of which she speaks is foreign to him, yet her words send his heart pounding. It's the symptom of his anxiety, of his fear that he'll fail to satisfy her and make her feel like the fool from his bumbling. It's the byproduct of his mind as it scrambles to recall everything he's ever learned about copulation in his youth, setting his nerves alight. It's the thrill nestled between each heartbeat that starts off small, then swells at the thought that she wants to embark on a journey of such intimacy and the discoveries therein with him.

His rapid thoughts slow after what feels like an eternity in the moment. Finally, Cyrus raises their hands to the space between them at chest level while the slack features of his face gather into a gentle smile.]

. . . Life is a joy when we experience something new every day. That is, I would like nothing more.

[The moment feels like an eternity to her. He doesn't recoil away from her, doesn't drop her hands, but... this is the bluntest she's ever been about what she wants, and--she really, really likes Cyrus. She doesn't want to lose him. And while she doesn't think he'd be the sort of person to be so offended that he no longer wants to be around her, anxiety doesn't listen to logic.

He raises their hands, and she can barely bear to raise her chin--

And then he smiles, and his words are soft and gentle and slowly, ever-so-slowly, she breathes out a relieved breath, and smiles back.]

... Th-thank you.

[What else can she say, really? He's willing--with her, and that... feels like so much more than any of her daydreams or wishes or hopes. It feels... warm.

So she leans in, and tilts her chin up, and he is so, so tall but on her tiptoes, she's able to gratefully brush their lips together.]

[With his head already angled toward her, she has just a little less distance to cross before their lips meet for a fleeting moment. The sensation isn't as strange as it was on the first day they exchanged kisses, but it's still new and not unwelcome. There's a technique to something more elaborate, he knows; Aoko is either shy, easing him into the process, or not all too familiar with it herself.

In other words, it's something to look into later if she's serious about wanting to experience everything. Cyrus lowers their hands, retracts one of his, and turns his other into one of hers to grasp before taking a step back, that he may escort her the short way to their destination. He can't well continue to leave her like this, exposed and cold. Right now, their business lies elsewhere.]

The bed, was it?

[To the bed, then.]

[All three of his assumptions are correct, honestly--trust Cyrus to be coming up with good hypotheses even in moments like this. But he takes a step back to escort her and Aoko follows willingly, more than willingly, her lips curving into a small but pleased smile.

... Maybe this is why they're a perfect match. She can't really be mad at him for taking a little while to get it when she wasn't ever being clear. Once she made her desires clear, then...

... It's something for her to remember, to work on, to hold onto.

But for now? With her heart beating rapidly in her ears and her face red (but a smile still firmly on it), she nods.]

Yes--yes please.

And... Cyrus?

[She doesn't want him to worry or be nervous either. She can't tell if he is, but...]

... We can take things at our own pace and learn together, okay? That'll make me really happy too.

[He turns away to lead her on their way, but stops and looks over his shoulder when she calls his name. Her words are like balm to his worries, and he feels the slight tension that he didn't realize was there drain away from his body as his shoulders sag. The palpitations fade away, replaced by a surge of fondness. He smiles anew, and it's the widest one he's given her yet in this moment.

Truly, she couldn't have said it any better. Aoko is no scholar, but she has the heart of the most magnanimous teacher and student in one. Bolstered by her loving patience, Cyrus dips his head, gives a soft hum of affirmation, and with renewed confidence guides her onto the sheets.]

[And because Jae loves me, this is where we now ftb.

Congrats, Douki-chan and Cyrus! You did it! You got laid!

Anyway.

When all is said and done, it's safe to say that Aoko is perfectly, peacefully content. It wasn't perfect, and they both have plenty of fumbling along the way, but she wasn't expecting it to be perfect. What matters, she's finding, is that it was with him, and...they figured it out together. So she satisfied, head tucked against his shoulder as she just kind of. Basks.

Listen. All romance and sweetness aside, there's definitely a part of her that's just like fucking finally.]

[Hurray!

What just happened?

He lies in bed, tired—spent in more ways than one—yet he can't think of a single time where he felt the way he does now. Drowsiness is an old friend that oft visits him in the dead of night, while weariness is a traveling companion that previously dogged him on an arduous journey. Presently, he would call himself neither. He's tired . . . but satisfied at once, and it's even stranger when that, too, shouldn't be an alien combination.

But he can process all of that later. Right now, he's not alone—a fact of which he's burningly aware with Aoko's head tucked against his very bare shoulder, while his arm is wrapped around hers from beneath—and that's very, very far from a bad thing.

In fact, he's quite happy like this.]

. . . Well, then. [He angles his head toward her, careful not to disturb hers.] How do you feel?

[She smiles at that, tilting her head up to meet Cyrus' gaze. Now that all's said and done, she's definitely a lot more comfortable--and a lot of that comes of being on equal ground, both of them having seen, well, everything of each other.

So she just sighs, content and peaceful.]

... Honestly? I feel great.

Um... what about you?

[He nods at her answer, pleased that she feels so. It cements that the timing was right for what happened. Whether it was now or later, they would've fumbled until they reached this point. More importantly, he's satisfied that he didn't leave her otherwise: There's hope yet here.]

I feel . . . Yes. I do believe I feel contented.

I'm... honestly really, really happy to hear that.

[Because!! It just... She looks down, eyes downcast and expression slightly flustered.]

It... wouldn't really have the same meaning if it was only for me, y'know? It... had to be for the both of us.

And it was. We learned together.

[And she endured all of it—the amateurish movement of his hands, his uncertain stammering and hesitation when he wasn't sure of what to do next. It was terribly clumsy, but neither of them tripped up in the end, and that draws a fond smile out of him instead of a sheepish one.]

Thank you, Aoko.

You don't have to thank me for that.

[She sounds pretty delighted, though, expression just as soft and fond.]

We learned together, after all, like you said.

[She shifts enough to be able to snag his free hand in her own, idly threading their fingers together.]

... There's lots of stuff like this we can learn together, I think.

[Ah. It shouldn't stand out so much after what they just did, but the ease and comfort with which she takes his hand is striking.]

Well, then, pray tell me what you'd like to learn next.

What next...? Hmmm...

[She has to give that a moment's thought, her brain sluggish and slow to go back to functioning.

But, eventually:]

Maybe... more about your world? And--um, your past?

I don't need to know everything or anything, but I'd definitely like for us to get to know each other better.

My world . . .

[She says that she doesn't need to know everything, but it's easy to start with the texts.]

It is said that Orsa, Mother of All, created the world. She then made a companion in Her image and bore thirteen children with Him. These children went on to become the gods who created the continent of Orsterra, from which I hail—the city-state of Atlasdam in the Flatlands, to be exact. I was born there into a house of some repute and seldom left until I became a scholar.

[A pause... and she giggles behind a hand, shaking her head.]

A history lesson in bed, huh...?

[THIS IS VERY CYRUS. She doesn't seem to mind though.]

Okay, so--

[...]

--wait, a house of repute? So you're like...

[She giggles! Surely that means she's taken to the lesson. He nods simply.]

One's station hardly matters in the world of academia, but yes. I am what you'd call a minor noble.

I had no idea...

[SHE'S... DATING A NOBLE???]

Nobility isn't really that common where I'm from, but, um...

[...]

I--I guess if you say it doesn't matter, then... that's... fine...!

I don't see why it shouldn't be.

The divide between nobles and commoners is not as pronounced as it once was. Why, many of my students at the academy are commoners. By the grace of His Majesty, they share the halls with their noble counterparts as equals.

[Well, that's how he feels.]

Does this trouble you . . . ?

No, "trouble" isn't the right word...

[She's quiet for a moment, contemplating everything, before she just sighs.]

... It's just another surprising fact. Um, but not in a bad way. I don't want to interrupt you. You can keep going.

[Times like these are when the differences between their worlds are more apparent. Fascinating, really. He nods.]

Before I became a scholar, I had the honor of studying under many a great thinker at the academy—so great, in fact, that I wondered if I could ever be their equal. And so, I dedicated myself to my studies, hoping to grow my mind . . . and eventually became their colleague, free to conduct research of my own and assist them in theirs.

[Those were fondly anxious years.]

My role as a teacher is comparatively new by some three years.

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unrecompensed - 2022-04-03 16:08 (UTC) - Expand

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