Awkward.

The first date was horrid. Khalia had forgotten to put on deodorant out of nervousness and had to call his mom halfway through to ask her to bring him some deodorant. Mischa had almost forgotten to put on underwear, until his pants rubbed against him the wrong way five minutes before Khalia was supposed to be at his house.

The waiter messed up the orders and gave the couple next to them the boys’ food and the boys ended up with an old, fat couple’s order of three lobsters, a steak, and two martinis.

After they’d had the orders corrected, they’d complained to the manager, who told them to get out if all they were going to do was complain about the service. They’d brushed off the bad service and even worse management and had gone back to eat their lasagna and Cokes. Khalia, being a nervous klutz, had spilled his Coke on his lap, making his only nice pair of jeans stained beyond recognition.

Mischa had tried to tell Khalia it was cute that he was so nervous, but that had only made Khalia even more nervous, and he’d tripped over a chair on the way to the bathroom to calm himself down. They’d gotten stares from everyone in the fancy restaurant; they were probably wondering why a boy who looked like a girl was on a date with an awkward, lanky teenage boy with braces.

On the drive home, they’d been stopped twice by the same cop who claimed both times that they’d been going over the speed limit. When Mischa dropped Khalia off, he didn’t know whether to kiss him, hug him, or do nothing, so they did an awkward side hug in the car before Khalia went inside to call Jimmy, his best friend, to tell him all about the horrid date.

The first kiss was even worse. Their teeth clanked together weirdly and Khalia’s braces cut Mischa’s gum, making a bit of blood go into both of the boys’ mouths. They hadn’t known what to do with their hands; Mischa had his resting awkwardly on Khalia’s shoulders and Khalia’s were in his lap, fingers twitching and aching to latch around Mischa’s waist. This was Khalia’s first kiss ever, and he didn’t know whether to close his eyes or keep them open.

“Close your eyes. You’re freaking me out,” Mischa had said to him. He’d quickly closed them and they got back into the kiss.

The first tongue kiss was the worst yet. They were still just as bad at kissing; Khalia still had his hands in his lap, his eyes were still open, his braces still nicking Mischa’s gums ever so lightly, and Mischa still had his hands resting awkwardly at Khalia’s shouders. The other’s tongues were strange and foreign; they both thought the wet, slimy feeling was too weird and had instantly pulled away, making disgusted faces at the other.

“That was disgusting!” Khalia had yelled, “How do people enjoy that?!” Mischa had only shrugged and they’d cuddled up to each other, their eyes now glued to the TV, the memories of the horrible kiss now erased.

Oh my, don’t even get me started on the first time. They’d been a large mass of legs and limbs. This was the worst yet. Khalia had started crying from the pain of the foreign object now tearing open his tiny hole. They’d had to stop for Khalia to finish crying. When he’d been ready again, Mischa was gentler, but Khalia still cried. They went back to the website that they were going by.

“We forgot step number 3!” Khalia had yelled at Mischa, who just looked sheepishly at the floor.

They went through the steps again, this time Mischa remembered to prep Khalia; he did everything the site said, step-by-step, on how to prep Khalia. That is, until he got to the third way to do it.

“What’s a rim job?” Khalia shrugged.

“Look it up,” he suggested. Mischa obliged, clicking on the first link on Google.

“Oh my god!” he’d yelled, instantly closing the browser.

“What?” Khalia had been kissing Mischa’s neck softly and he’d missed the video.

“Rim job is me… Licking your ass,” Mischa stuttered out.

“Gross!”

So, they went through all the steps, excluding the third way to do the third step, but it still made Khalia cry. It didn’t hurt as much as it had the first two times, but he still felt like he was being ripped apart. Mischa had stopped and waited for Khalia to feel used to it, kissing away all of the small tears that fell from Khalia’s hazel eyes. After he’d gotten used to it, he didn’t feel any different then he usually did; he just felt like there was something shoved up his ass.

It didn’t feel good, or bad, or even moderately okay; just there. Mischa was moaning above him, moving in and out of him sloppily, while Khalia just laid there, waiting for the awkward sex to be over.

“Th-the s-s-site said I had to h-hit y-your pr-prosta-tate. Wh-what is tha-a-t?”

“Something in my ass, I’m guessing,” Khalia had murmured monotonously; when was this supposed to fee- shit. “D-do that again,” Khalia had yelled. Thus, they had found out how to make it feel good for both parties. However, the sex overall lasted less then five minutes before Mischa spasmed on top of Khalia, who had already came two minutes ago all over his stomach.

Mischa had filled Khalia up and pulled out of him, his hand already reaching for a tissue to wipe them both off with. He’d rolled off and to the side of Khalia, who’d automatically snuggled into his chest.

“That was weird.” Khalia had muttered out sleepily. Mischa had only nodded before they both passed out.

Now, I bet you’re guessing that their wedding was just as weird and awkward, right?

Wrong.

They’d both learned from the other’s awkwardness until they became absolutely perfect at everything relationship wise; they knew all the other’s kinks and quirks; what made them horny and what made them unhappy.

Their wedding was absolutely perfect. The flowers were all delivered on time, the food was amazingly delectable, the groomsmen and best men all showed up on time, no one had a hangover from the separate bachelor parties the previous night, and neither got cold feet at the altar.

All in all, a normal relationship.