Dead Plate Oneshots First Time

Short one cuz I’m busy with my finals.

Vincent woke up to the soft light filtering through the blinds, his body aching in a way that was both unfamiliar and overwhelming. His muscles felt sore, a deep ache radiating from his lower back that reminded him all too clearly of the night before. He blinked against the brightness, trying to clear the haze from his mind as he shifted under the sheets. His breath hitched slightly from the pain, the reminder of his first time with Rody, and how intense it had been.

The bed shifted beside him, and he froze. For a moment, Vincent’s usual calm composure wavered, replaced by a flood of self-consciousness. He had never been vulnerable like this—physically, emotionally—and now he was left wondering. **Did I disappoint him?**

His heart pounded, thoughts racing as he felt Rody stir next to him. He could feel the warmth of Rody’s body radiating against his side, so close yet so far in Vincent’s mind. He had never been the type to second-guess himself, but now, in the stillness of the morning, it was all he could think about. **What if it wasn’t enough? What if I wasn’t enough?**

Before Vincent could spiral any further, he felt strong arms wrap around his waist, pulling him closer into the warmth of Rody’s chest. A soft, contented hum escaped Rody’s lips as he nuzzled into Vincent’s neck, his breath warm and slow against his skin.

“Morning,” Rody murmured, his voice a deep, soothing rumble that sent a shiver down Vincent’s spine.

Vincent stiffened for a second, unsure of how to respond. The memories of last night—of hands exploring unfamiliar territory, of breathless whispers and quiet gasps—flooded his mind. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Rody shifted slightly, leaning up on one elbow to look at Vincent. His green eyes were still half-lidded with sleep, but they softened when they met Vincent’s anxious gaze. He could sense the tension in Vincent’s body, the way his muscles remained rigid beneath the sheets.

“Hey,” Rody said gently, his hand brushing a few strands of black hair from Vincent’s face. “You okay?”

Vincent swallowed hard, his throat tight. He couldn’t bring himself to admit his worry aloud, but the concern in Rody’s eyes made it impossible to hide.

“I… I didn’t know it would feel like this,” Vincent whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m not used to… this kind of pain.”

Rody’s expression softened even more, and he leaned down, pressing a slow, tender kiss to Vincent’s forehead. “It’s normal,” he whispered against his skin. “Your first time, it can be a lot. But… I hope it wasn’t too much.”

Vincent closed his eyes, letting the warmth of Rody’s kiss calm the storm inside him. “I didn’t know if I… if I was good enough,” he admitted, voice faltering.

Rody’s brows knitted together, and he immediately cupped Vincent’s face, his thumbs gently brushing over his cheeks. “Vincent,” he said, his voice low but firm, “you were perfect. Don’t even think for a second that you weren’t.”

Vincent’s breath caught in his throat, the words hitting him harder than he expected. Rody’s sincerity was palpable, and for a moment, Vincent felt the weight of his doubts start to lift. He felt Rody’s lips on his again, this time pressing slow, lingering kisses to his jaw, then to his neck, trailing down to his shoulder. Each kiss was like a quiet reassurance, a promise that he hadn’t failed, that he was enough.

“You don’t have to worry,” Rody murmured between kisses, pulling Vincent closer, their bodies pressed together beneath the covers. “You were more than enough, Vince. You’re always perfect to me.”

Vincent exhaled softly, his body finally relaxing against Rody’s as he let himself believe the words. His fingers curled into the fabric of Rody’s shirt, pulling him closer, needing the comfort of his warmth, his presence.

Rody shifted again, settling himself so that he could hold Vincent more fully, one arm wrapped around his waist while the other threaded gently through his hair. Vincent rested his head against Rody’s chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the sound grounding him.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They just lay there, wrapped in each other, the quiet of the morning offering them a sense of peace that neither of them had expected. Rody’s fingers continued their soothing path through Vincent’s hair, his lips occasionally pressing soft, reassuring kisses to the top of his head.

“You know,” Rody said after a while, his voice soft and playful, “you could’ve just asked me how I felt about last night instead of torturing yourself.”

Vincent huffed a quiet laugh, his breath warming Rody’s chest. “I’m not used to asking for reassurance,” he admitted. “It’s… difficult.”

“I get it,” Rody replied, pressing another kiss to his temple. “But you don’t have to worry about that with me. I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it.”

Vincent didn’t respond immediately, but he felt something warm and unspoken settle between them. He shifted slightly, pressing a kiss to Rody’s chest before nestling back into the crook of his arm, allowing himself to relax completely.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice soft but filled with gratitude.

Rody smiled, his hand still tracing gentle patterns on Vincent’s back. “Always.”