Chapter 0 - wedding night education

Cyril knew, of course, what his wedding night would entail. Though many might still treat him like he is young and innocent, even after showing surprise at how much he has grown just being able to get proper nutrition and sleep in a safe place, he has grown, and he is still an adult, fully understanding of what comes next in his relationship. Byleth has never treated him like a child, even when he was still short and small, and even with the age difference between the two of them.

She never thought that it was laughable for him to fall in love with her, and on top of that, she fell in love with him as well. The two were quickly engaged after the war ended, and now, after their wedding and all of the celebrations have come to an end, Cyril knows very well what should come next. He just has no idea what he is actually supposed to do , and that is the problem.

The way others treat him, still considering him innocent, means that he gets teased often, and he is teased enough as it is for going after the former professor. He could not just ask someone else what he should do on his wedding night, even if he is fairly sure that he needs some kind of advice to make it through.

Though he is as excited as anyone would be, having his first night with his wife, he is also mildly terrified, and hopes that Byleth does not mock him for his inexperience. She has never mocked him for anything before, but even so, he worries that this might be the night that changes that, no matter how irrational his fears may be.

Being alone with her is inevitable, and he looks forward to it as much as he dreads it, until the hour is finally upon him. The two of them retreat to their room, together, and Byleth shuts the door behind them. Cyril intends to wait before saying anything, to let things go on for as long as they can before he is forced to reveal that he is clueless, but almost immediately, he bursts out, “I got no idea what I’m supposed to do tonight.”

Byleth gives him a half of a smile. “Still need me to be your teacher then?” she asks, and he is not sure if she is making fun of him or not. Scowling a bit, he does not know where he should look.

“Ya don’t have to say it like that,” he mutters, though he realizes that he has brought this upon himself, bringing it up straight away.

“Truth be told, I don’t know much either,” Byleth admits, which should not surprise him as much as it does. She has told him before that this is her first romantic relationship, but still it seems odd for the teacher he has spent so much time relying on to admit to not knowing something. “I figured that would be something that we could learn together.”

“R-right,” he says, looking down at the ground now, his cheeks burning as he realizes exactly what they are about to get into. Despite thinking about it pretty much nonstop, it still seems unreal that they are really about to do that . But when he looks up again, Byleth is already undressing, and now he definitely has no idea where he is supposed to look.

“I can show you something,” she says. “Something that I think I know how to do pretty well, and you might be able to do it next time.”

He stands, stiff and awkward, in place while she moves to sit on the bed, spreading her legs for him without qualm. Cyril can’t look away, but he is pretty sure she does not want him to, even if there is still that part of his mind telling him that this is something incredibly private.

As she begins to touch herself, her breath catches in her throat, and Cyril finds himself mimicking that sound, feeling his legs grow weak. He tries to watch carefully so that he can learn what she is doing, trying to figure out the trick to it, but it is difficult as he begins to lose himself to lust, entranced by the sight of his wife pleasuring herself, and not really able to learn much as a result.

The look on her face is like nothing he has ever seen before, and he wants, more than anything, to be able to take her as his own. He no longer worries about his lack of experience, or asks himself what he is going to actually do to her. Right now, it all feels like it will work out just fine, that he can just follow the cues from his body. Byleth moans softly, and then a bit louder, and Cyril whimpers, knowing that he won’t be able to hold back anymore.

“I think I’m ready now,” she says, and her voice nearly startles him. “Do you want to come over here?” As she speaks, she lays down, and Cyril can’t even find his voice to respond to her, as he undresses as quickly as he can, achingly hard and ready for her, scrambling to get on top of her.

“I…” he starts, but he doesn’t know what he’s trying to say. When he is on top of her, she smiles up at him, and he decides that he doesn’t need to say anything. Byleth can’t teach him how to do everything, and he just has to figure things out for himself.
She wraps her legs around him as he pushes down into her, and Cyril is immediately overwhelmed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks that he should be slow and gentle for the first time, but he is not able to make his body obey that. He buries himself inside of her, moaning out pathetically as he fills her, and Byleth tenses beneath him, trying to steady her breath.

She wraps her arms around his neck as he settles inside of her, struggling to regain his composure and get a hold of himself. It is difficult not to lose himself in it entirely, so overwhelmed by the pleasure like nothing he has ever felt before. Of course he has touched himself before, plenty more than he would like to admit, but this is not even remotely comparable, and any endurance he thought he might have built up is nothing more than a fantasy now.

He is not able to do anything that he wants to do for Byleth, and not knowing what he is doing has less to do with it than simply being in over his head, and so distracted by his own pleasure that there is no hope for him to last. Tensing up, he can only whimper as he gives in, knowing that he’s too fast, but knowing just as well that there is nothing he can do about that.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, with all the breath he can muster, as he slumps forward onto Byleth, completely spent. She moves her hands to rest one on the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair.

“Nothing to apologize for,” she replies. “We’re both learning, after all.” 

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