Work Text:
𝑷𝒐𝒔𝒕-𝒄𝒐𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝑻𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆: Also known as postcoital dysphoria, post-coital tristesse refers to feelings of sadness, anxiety, or irritability that occur after sexual intercourse, even when the experience was consensual and satisfying.
The room had fallen completely silent.
The only sounds were the gentle rain tapping against the window and the lingering, uneven rhythm of their breathing.
Exactly what one would expect after two teenagers shared their first time together.
Luis lay back on the mattress, a tired smile resting on his face as he stared up at the ceiling.
"I think we survived," he joked.
No answer.
His smile faded as he frowned and turned toward his boyfriend.
Max was sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to him. He had already pulled his shirt on, though he didn't seem to realize it was inside out.
His shoulders were tense.
Far too tense.
"Max?"
Silence.
Luis's heart began to pound.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked quietly.
"What?"
"D-Did I hurt you?"
"No..." Max's voice was so soft it barely sounded like his own.
Luis sat up immediately.
"Then... what's wrong?"
Several long seconds passed before Max answered.
"I don't know."
He dragged both hands down his face and took a deep breath.
Once.
Then again.
But the knot in his throat refused to loosen.
The happiness he'd felt only minutes ago had vanished without warning, replaced by a crushing sadness that weighed heavily on his chest.
He wanted to cry for no reason at all.
And that was the worst part.
There wasn't a reason.
He'd wanted to be with Luis. He'd felt safe. Luis had been gentle. Kind.
So...
Why did it suddenly feel like his whole world was collapsing?
Tears welled up before he could stop them.
"Max?" Luis was beside him in an instant. "Hey... hey..."
Max quickly shook his head.
"Don't look at me."
"Why?"
"Because..." His voice cracked. "I don't even know why I'm crying."
Luis knit his brows together. He moved closer, careful not to make any sudden movements that might shatter whatever fragile thing stood between them.
"Come here."
Max shook his head again.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because this is ridiculous," he said, letting out a bitter laugh between sobs. "Everything was... fine."
"I know."
"I wanted this."
"I know."
"I don't regret it."
"I'd hope not."
"Then..." He squeezed his eyes shut. "What the hell is wrong with me?"
Luis stayed silent.
Not because he had an answer to what Max was going through.
But because he understood that Max wasn't really asking for one.
He was simply lost.
Luis sat down beside him without invading his space, not touching him just yet.
He waited.
One minute.
Then two.
Then three.
Only then did Max, almost unconsciously, let his head rest against Luis's shoulder.
Luis slipped an arm around him.
Nothing more.
And Max broke down.
It wasn't the kind of crying that came from heartbreak or regret.
It was the helpless sobbing of someone who couldn't understand what was happening to him—someone who no longer understood his own body.
As though the sadness had appeared out of nowhere.
As though it belonged to someone else.
Luis didn't try to stop him. He didn't tell him everything was okay, nor did he ask him to stop crying.
He simply stayed there, breathing alongside him, letting Max's tears soak into his shirt.
A long while passed before Max managed to speak again.
"I'm sorry."
Luis frowned.
"What are you apologizing for?"
"I ruined the moment."
"You didn't ruin anything."
"But..."
"Max."
Luis shifted his shoulder slightly until Max looked up at him.
"I don't need you to be happy all the time."
Max's eyes filled with tears again.
"I don't even understand what happened to me."
Luis gently brushed a hand through his hair.
"Sometimes our bodies do strange things."
Max let out a shaky laugh.
"That's a terrible explanation."
"I know."
"A really terrible one."
"But it's the only one I've got."
That earned him the faintest smile.
Luis took the opportunity to lace their fingers together.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I can't."
"Then we won't."
"...Do you want me to leave?"
Max answered so quickly he almost cut him off.
"No."
The word came out laced with fear, as though the thought alone hurt.
Luis gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
"Then I'm staying."
There were no grand promises.
No heartfelt speeches.
He simply remained beside him while Max slowly regained his breathing.
Much later, after the tears had finally stopped, Max spoke in little more than a whisper.
"Thanks for not thinking I'm crazy."
Luis shook his head with a small smile.
"I don't think you're crazy," he said, giving his hand another gentle squeeze. "I think your heart is just having a strange day."
Max closed his eyes and rested his head against Luis's shoulder again.
"Do you want to sleep?" Luis asked softly.
"Please," Max murmured, his eyelids already growing heavy.
"But first..."
Luis reached for the hem of Max's shirt and gently pulled it over his head. Max smiled faintly, letting him help him get comfortable before they both settled back beneath the blanket.
Max instinctively curled up against him, resting his head on Luis's chest while Luis wrapped both arms around him.
"I feel better," the young Hatter admitted quietly.
"Get some sleep, sombererito," Luis murmured.
"...What did you just call me?"
"Shh," Luis said with a smile, holding him a little closer. "Go to sleep."
Max stayed there for another few seconds.
A small, genuine smile finally found its way onto his face.
Then he closed his eyes.