[ the reason shiro hasn’t given keith an in-depth play by play comes down to one reason and one reason alone: shiro lacks the vocabulary to do it justice. there simply aren’t words for how breathtaking keith is in that first moment, when his hole splits and gaps and swallows around the widest part of shiro’s cockhead. skin flushed so prettily pink and eyes so love-drunk that shiro wants to freeze time to that exact nanosecond, keith is stunning in that moment and every moment that follows. his boyfriend is enchanting, no other word for it, and even that falls short. so yes, keith’s right, he hasn’t been demanding enough, because shiro so often does nothing beyond breathing hard through the breach, to then bask in keith’s beauty, savoring every hitched breath, fluttered lash, and tooth dug imprint in keith’s lower lip.
shiro only hopes he showcases something similarly worthy of cataloging.
keith tells him to breathe through it and shiro almost stumbles into a laugh instead. he’s good at breathing. or at least, he is when he’s the one lining up. here, tension creeps into his lower back and railroads up his spine despite keith’s best efforts to distract him through generous strokes. he trusts keith beyond measure. the easiest way to put it is that he trusts keith with his life. it’s more than his body and the blood in his veins, though. he trusts keith with the very makings of his soul. keith will take care of him. keith has always taken care of him, even when shiro has made it as frustratingly difficult as possible.
you're absolutely incredible… how are you actually real?
ridiculous. that should be shiro’s line. it would be, if he weren’t laden with the pleasure-pain of having his hole wedged open. no amount of prep is sufficient enough to truly prepare for having something very solid pushed inside, but his body isn’t so damaged afterall. it makes room for keith’s cockhead, sealing tight and warm around him. the tremble keeps, giving into an occasional clench as his body works through this new weight inside. this new weight that is now pausing.
tell me –. hm? – feeling a ridge soon.
he hears him in bits and pieces, the buzzing in his ears working to his brain and reducing him to a mess of barely coherent perceptions. overwrought with a deep-seated fascination that keith is inside him, the discomfort becomes secondary. so forgive him as he mumbles a nonsense: ]
Love you.
[ it has nothing to do with being okay or ridges or expected cues. ]
Love your cock.
[ at least that is somewhat related. he turns his head to one side and then the other, huffing, then giving way to panting as he tries to focus heavily curtained eyes. ]
I – [ a swallow, throat tight and dry. ] … I’m ready. [ he’s again jumping the gun, doing his very best to cancel out every moment he’s preached about patience. ] Gimme that ridge.
no subject
shiro only hopes he showcases something similarly worthy of cataloging.
keith tells him to breathe through it and shiro almost stumbles into a laugh instead. he’s good at breathing. or at least, he is when he’s the one lining up. here, tension creeps into his lower back and railroads up his spine despite keith’s best efforts to distract him through generous strokes. he trusts keith beyond measure. the easiest way to put it is that he trusts keith with his life. it’s more than his body and the blood in his veins, though. he trusts keith with the very makings of his soul. keith will take care of him. keith has always taken care of him, even when shiro has made it as frustratingly difficult as possible.
you're absolutely incredible… how are you actually real?
ridiculous. that should be shiro’s line. it would be, if he weren’t laden with the pleasure-pain of having his hole wedged open. no amount of prep is sufficient enough to truly prepare for having something very solid pushed inside, but his body isn’t so damaged afterall. it makes room for keith’s cockhead, sealing tight and warm around him. the tremble keeps, giving into an occasional clench as his body works through this new weight inside. this new weight that is now pausing.
tell me –.
hm?
– feeling a ridge soon.
he hears him in bits and pieces, the buzzing in his ears working to his brain and reducing him to a mess of barely coherent perceptions. overwrought with a deep-seated fascination that keith is inside him, the discomfort becomes secondary. so forgive him as he mumbles a nonsense: ]
Love you.
[ it has nothing to do with being okay or ridges or expected cues. ]
Love your cock.
[ at least that is somewhat related. he turns his head to one side and then the other, huffing, then giving way to panting as he tries to focus heavily curtained eyes. ]
I – [ a swallow, throat tight and dry. ] … I’m ready. [ he’s again jumping the gun, doing his very best to cancel out every moment he’s preached about patience. ] Gimme that ridge.