[ there's something to be said for taking it nice and slow for the first time. as much as keith can handle the overwhelming sensation of being thoroughly filled up, he's hanging on by mere threads. he can barely breathe, let alone move without groaning when that cock jostles his rim. it's easiest to manage when anon doesn't move at all -- keith can breathe then, gather his thoughts only for him to remember he doesn't want to be thinking, only feeling and overwhelmed with just feeling.
because when he's thinking, all he can think about is what he said to shiro. it seems impossible to be hung up on someone when there'd been nothing there -- no spark of mutual interest, no potential beyond what keith had mindlessly taken from his best friend's body, so -- fuck. his heart his racing, unsure of what it is he'll have to do if anon isn't going to cooperate and give him the kind of brutal fucking he needs to lose sight of what if's and actually exist in the gritty reality of his choices. he wants to feel the shock of being fucked, rather than than making love as he once imagined for his first time receiving.
most of all? keith wants to like it. sex with a stranger through a hole in a door may not resemble the tender first time he imagined with soft kisses and affection, but he wants to feel right about his choice to burn that reality to ashes. this isn't something he can trust lance in all of his fumbling awkwardness to do, or shiro with his endless concern for that matter. this is something only anon can give him.
keith grips the chair tight in one hand, dragging it closer to him as he waits. the other stays glued to his hard cock, fingers spreading pre up and down, over the ridges. there's a heavy thud against the balsa wood that makes keith clench reflexively, but there's still no movement. or at least not the kind that he asked for. even so, the slow and steady glide of anon's cock teasing and pressuring his gland is enough to make him outright mewl, legs trembling through the steady drag on his rim.
it's good, it's fucking big and every shallow thrust makes his cock jump in his hand whenever the right spot gets hit. but it isn't what keith asked for -- he doesn't want gentle if he can't have all the other gentle things he's craving, so inevitably, he whines, all wet and needy. the sound isn't even a conscious choice; it slips out of him, like he's begged for dick his whole life.
it doesn't even fucking work.
anon pulls out further and further, but still goes at that maddeningly gentle pace when he pulls out to the tip a second time, keith practically chokes on a moan, suddenly unsure if the guy plans on pulling out entirely. after all. that's been the pattern, right? keep pulling out more. what exactly does anon even want that isn't being provided?
all keith gets is a breath. a single deep breath to contain all his anxiety, frustration and confusion before it's all but literally fucked out of him with the abrupt slam of anon's hips. keith screams, the sound echoing through the landing of the messed up hallway and down the stairs. pain and pleasure erupt simultaneously, clustering nerves and keith never quite stops moaning after that. it hurts, it's good, it's everything and nothing, and his head goes light and fuzzy as thrust after punishing thrust keep coming. cock dribbling, keith squeezes his eyes shut, the last of his focus dedicated solely towards not fucking toppling over and face planting into the goddamn chair he's drooling all over. hand pumping and pumping furiously, mindlessly at his dick, he rolls his hips back trying to take more, take it better, take it right for his good boy. ]
no subject
because when he's thinking, all he can think about is what he said to shiro. it seems impossible to be hung up on someone when there'd been nothing there -- no spark of mutual interest, no potential beyond what keith had mindlessly taken from his best friend's body, so -- fuck. his heart his racing, unsure of what it is he'll have to do if anon isn't going to cooperate and give him the kind of brutal fucking he needs to lose sight of what if's and actually exist in the gritty reality of his choices. he wants to feel the shock of being fucked, rather than than making love as he once imagined for his first time receiving.
most of all? keith wants to like it. sex with a stranger through a hole in a door may not resemble the tender first time he imagined with soft kisses and affection, but he wants to feel right about his choice to burn that reality to ashes. this isn't something he can trust lance in all of his fumbling awkwardness to do, or shiro with his endless concern for that matter. this is something only anon can give him.
keith grips the chair tight in one hand, dragging it closer to him as he waits. the other stays glued to his hard cock, fingers spreading pre up and down, over the ridges. there's a heavy thud against the balsa wood that makes keith clench reflexively, but there's still no movement. or at least not the kind that he asked for. even so, the slow and steady glide of anon's cock teasing and pressuring his gland is enough to make him outright mewl, legs trembling through the steady drag on his rim.
it's good, it's fucking big and every shallow thrust makes his cock jump in his hand whenever the right spot gets hit. but it isn't what keith asked for -- he doesn't want gentle if he can't have all the other gentle things he's craving, so inevitably, he whines, all wet and needy. the sound isn't even a conscious choice; it slips out of him, like he's begged for dick his whole life.
it doesn't even fucking work.
anon pulls out further and further, but still goes at that maddeningly gentle pace when he pulls out to the tip a second time, keith practically chokes on a moan, suddenly unsure if the guy plans on pulling out entirely. after all. that's been the pattern, right? keep pulling out more. what exactly does anon even want that isn't being provided?
all keith gets is a breath. a single deep breath to contain all his anxiety, frustration and confusion before it's all but literally fucked out of him with the abrupt slam of anon's hips. keith screams, the sound echoing through the landing of the messed up hallway and down the stairs. pain and pleasure erupt simultaneously, clustering nerves and keith never quite stops moaning after that. it hurts, it's good, it's everything and nothing, and his head goes light and fuzzy as thrust after punishing thrust keep coming. cock dribbling, keith squeezes his eyes shut, the last of his focus dedicated solely towards not fucking toppling over and face planting into the goddamn chair he's drooling all over. hand pumping and pumping furiously, mindlessly at his dick, he rolls his hips back trying to take more, take it better, take it right for his good boy. ]
Shi- aah