[ he’s not disappointed. he’s not. one knock sounds and there’s no follow up. one, two, he bites the inside of his lip and frowns. he’d thought for sure… he was almost positive… – he curls his index, breaking from the hard line to rub more deliberately against smooth muscle. this is fine. he likes this. he’ll make it so good that perhaps next time anonymous will want to try a little more.
next time? next time? he bites down harder and the seconds stretch to three, four. there’s not supposed to be a next time due to… what? his tendency to dictate what is wrong and what is right. what is acceptable and what is not? from the beginning, he’s thought marking off the sheet with people he neither knows or cares about, to be better than working through those he does, like the paladins. so who better than someone he doesn’t know at all? next time would be justified if he did something on his list. so…
five. knock. … oh.
the movement of his fingers stops and shiro’s face goes lax and open. eyes wider, lips parted, gaze unblinking and directed at the gloryhole, shiro lets the moments shift into six, seven and then he moans low. he drags his fingers out next. ring, middle, index, all three are still a bit sloppy when they’re pulled back to his side of the door. he gives them an approving glance but as always, his gaze can never stray too long from pretty thing being offered up at the gloryhole. he can’t help it then; he leans in that last little bit. he misses anonymous’ hole, but that wasn’t the intended target anyway. the inside of his left butt cheek, right on the edge of his rim, that’s where he presses his lips, altogether uncaring as how hard he has to mash his face to the door in order to bridge the distance.
one second, that’s all it is. just a peck. and then he’s grabbing up the lube bottle as he climbs to his feet. he shoves his pants down to his ankles and pops the lube cap. his left is already messy, so he squirts more into his hand and palms his cock, root to crown, over and over, squeezing and slopping himself with slick until he’s hard in hand. there’s a lot wrong with him toeing closer to the door and facing into it, with his nose just short of bumping into the balsa wood… but there’s also a lot right, in feeling at least, with leveling his dick with the hole and tilting his hips forward. it’s only a brush of his tip to his hole and it already has shiro choking on spit, whole body weathering a shiver.
he presses the tip directly to his hole, letting the weight of it tease the rim for one beat, two, and then, with the head made slick, it only takes a bit of pressure for that tightly furled opening to widen. steady, slow, careful, shiro eases into the clench, trying his best to read the trembles and squirms. he’ll pause when it seems to be too much, to give the other time to adjust, all the while trying to calm himself. it’s been awhile… so he needs to focus in order to make this last awhile too. ]
I'M ADMITTING TO NOTHING
next time? next time? he bites down harder and the seconds stretch to three, four. there’s not supposed to be a next time due to… what? his tendency to dictate what is wrong and what is right. what is acceptable and what is not? from the beginning, he’s thought marking off the sheet with people he neither knows or cares about, to be better than working through those he does, like the paladins. so who better than someone he doesn’t know at all? next time would be justified if he did something on his list. so…
five.
knock.
… oh.
the movement of his fingers stops and shiro’s face goes lax and open. eyes wider, lips parted, gaze unblinking and directed at the gloryhole, shiro lets the moments shift into six, seven and then he moans low. he drags his fingers out next. ring, middle, index, all three are still a bit sloppy when they’re pulled back to his side of the door. he gives them an approving glance but as always, his gaze can never stray too long from pretty thing being offered up at the gloryhole. he can’t help it then; he leans in that last little bit. he misses anonymous’ hole, but that wasn’t the intended target anyway. the inside of his left butt cheek, right on the edge of his rim, that’s where he presses his lips, altogether uncaring as how hard he has to mash his face to the door in order to bridge the distance.
one second, that’s all it is. just a peck. and then he’s grabbing up the lube bottle as he climbs to his feet. he shoves his pants down to his ankles and pops the lube cap. his left is already messy, so he squirts more into his hand and palms his cock, root to crown, over and over, squeezing and slopping himself with slick until he’s hard in hand. there’s a lot wrong with him toeing closer to the door and facing into it, with his nose just short of bumping into the balsa wood… but there’s also a lot right, in feeling at least, with leveling his dick with the hole and tilting his hips forward. it’s only a brush of his tip to his hole and it already has shiro choking on spit, whole body weathering a shiver.
he presses the tip directly to his hole, letting the weight of it tease the rim for one beat, two, and then, with the head made slick, it only takes a bit of pressure for that tightly furled opening to widen. steady, slow, careful, shiro eases into the clench, trying his best to read the trembles and squirms. he’ll pause when it seems to be too much, to give the other time to adjust, all the while trying to calm himself. it’s been awhile… so he needs to focus in order to make this last awhile too. ]