earthshine | reparacija ic inbox

Entry tags:

reparacija ic inbox

« Shiro »
[ TEXT + AUDIO + VIDEO + ACTION ]

Hi, this is Shiro.
Sorry I'm unavailable at the moment,
but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ there's nothing more for keith to see than the back of the chair and the landing for the stairs beyond that, but even so he keeps his head bowed, gaze boring holes into the seat. there's even less that can be done about the way his heart hammers behind his ribs as anxiety starts to set in through the slow brush up the line of his perineum. he shivers, breath held as he tries to keep his mind blank of thoughts like nobody's ever touched me there because the more conscious he is of those facts, the more skittish he gets. swallowing hard, his knees buckle a little at the first pass of lubed fingers around his rim. who would have thought his ass would be sensitive there? everyone with a functioning brain, but keith isn't operating on logic at this point.

biting hard at the soft tissue of his cheek, keith keeps himself from gasping or whimpering too much as fingers rove round and round, until he's dizzy trying to map out the sensation. throughout, he just can't help wondering if this is kind of teasing is better or worse than if a finger had slipped in right away. hell, what it is it shiro would've done?

a beat is all it takes for keith to dismiss the thought entirely. whatever it is shiro would have done, it wouldn't have involved a fuckign hole in the door, that's for sure. keith shudders, hole fluttering when the circling stops and. he knows better than to tense up right now when it's clear mystery guy's going to do something else, but unclenching and relaxing is difficult when a fingertip pulls at muscle and pushes inside.

this time, keith isn't quite able to keep entirely quiet. he gasps, breath petering into a higher pitched groan as the digit breaches. fuck. it doesn't hurt -- no, far from that. but it's hard not to think invasive and that doesn't belong there as that single finger pushes inside him,. remembering to breathe, keith starts counting through his inhales and exhales. breathe in to a count of five, exhale to another count of five, all through tightly grit teeth as he grips the arms of the chair just that much tighter.

is this how lance -- no. no. that's a whole other can of worms and keith needs not to exist in his own headspace. relaxing just enough that the motion of mystery man's finger no longer feels quite as foreign, keith rocks his hips back slightly, hopefully to signal more. buy in yhinking about anon's specific dick again, keith has to wonder who the fuck it's going to fit. ]

Edited 2022-06-03 01:52 (UTC)

[ it’s a snug fit, which, frankly, isn’t unusual. what has shiro frowning is the tension he can feel roiling off the other man. his ass clenches hard around him, muscle fluttering every time he pauses in the push to swirl his finger around and around. up to the second bend in his finger now, shiro curls the tip to dig into that inner wall of smooth muscle, wanting to chase away the strain. he understands it, he thinks. it has to be nerve wracking to bend over and shove one’s ass to a door; no wonder he’s breathing hard on measured breaths. still… he trusts him, doesn’t he? he has to. in some capacity. such realization shouldn’t warm shiro so and yet, his belly flip flops and his chest seems to swell with pride? delight? purpose?

show me just how good you are.
good boy.

shiro makes a soft, wanting sound in the back of his throat. it’s easily dwarfed by the pushback of those hips and the subsequent creak his ass makes against the balsa wood. shiro can be good. he knows a sure way to pop the tension and have anonymous melting against the door too. taking the encouragement to dip deeper, shiro inches along, a little quicker now. the lube eases the way, making the movements smooth and easy. soon enough, he’s down to the third knuckle, where finger meets hand and it’s then that he curls his finger again, prodding around trying to find a very special gland.

anatomy is anatomy, though everyone is a little different. one pass, two swirls, three crooks of his finger and then, he brushes over something distinct and a little squishy. there you are, he huffs and smirks to himself, barely allowing anonymous a moment to process the brush before he adjusts the angle of his finger. he curls in and presses his finger directly into his prostate gland to hold for thee, two, one, release. one, two, three, press and right into a slow grinding of his finger. ]

[ keith bites down hard on the inside of his cheek as the digit slips in deeper still. again, not painful, not uncomfortable -- just weird to have something moving around inside him that way. eased along by the lube, the motion is smooth when he isn't clenching on reflex that is, but his body just can't decide if it wants the finger in or out. the thing that keeps keith in place is the absolute comfort in knowing that he has the final say in this. if, at any point, it gets too intense he can simply shuffle a few steps forward and forget about this whole thing.

it's while that finger is fully seated and keith can feel the heel of the man's palm on his cheeks that it even occurs too him that maybe being half galra, he doesn't actually have a prostate. it's not exactly a gland that's obvious from the outside, so how would anyone even know? the thought makes him tense all the way up again, missing a beat and throwing his entire breathing cycle off schedule. maybe this is something he should've taken pains to figure out for himself first before entrusting a person to go probing in his ass for it. or maybe this exercise is still worth doing if there's a future in which he has to have glandless anal sex just to know and get it over with.

pessimism rising and mood plummeting, keith resumes breathing in that same methodical way as before. and then, a jolt shoots straight down his spine. keith gasps audibly, thighs twitching as he inadvertently leans harder on the chair. the jolts come faster then as the guy starts kneading and bullying a spot inside. keith mewls, whines high as he shakes, part from the electric shocks coursing straight to his soft dick and partly out of pure relief. breath already kicking up into soft panting, keith moans in sync with the pressure. when he's given the tiniest bit of reprieve, he respositions himself, leaning more heavily on his right to grab his hardening cock with his left to stroke soothingly.

fuck. he could cum just like this, and somehow doesn't want to. not just yet. abandoning his cock then, he reaches behind and pulls at his asshceek, holding himself more open for the guy. show me is what he'd said, and keith wants to be shown. ]

[ it’s difficult to let up on his prostate – or whatever equivalent it is that this humanoid alien has – once he’s found it. why? anonymous sounds really good, that’s why. before, shiro had gotten that half-yell, half-moan and thought it to be an absolute treat, though an unlikely one to repeat. the thought of hearing more than muffled, bitten back sounds had been too unlikely for him to hope for, but then again, being allowed to play with this man’s ass had been beyond his expectations too. now, it’s like the man has forgotten himself. he’s mewling and moaning, and when he isn’t doing that, he’s panting, making an absolute racket of sound on his side of the door. shiro wants to bully his prostate until his knees buckle. even torture him with the pleasure of it until his voice starts to wear or his cock fills and empties again, which ever comes first.

but there’s possibility here. anonymous didn’t direct him on how far this is meant to go. is he meant to finger him? eat him out? fuck him? show me just how good you are. maybe that’s it. maybe there is no boundary here other than the door and the necessity for shiro to perform. maybe anonymous wants shiro to decide on how far this goes.

so he lets off that sensitive gland and drags his finger out. he catches the rim at his nailbed and pushes back in, lazy and indulgent in finger fucking him. anonymous’ body shifting doesn’t disrupt the rhythm, but shiro does lean in closer to the hole, curious to know what it is the other man is doing. fingers come into view, grasping at one butt cheek and pulling without a hint of hesitation.

oh. they’re on the same wavelength. shiro’s smiling in the next moment and he pauses then, with the tip of his finger barely held, eagerly taking in the broadened view of this man’s hole. it’s messy but beautiful, all slicked up and pink. the stretch is barely anything at all and he finds he ought to change that, especially if anonymous allows him to finish this the way shiro might want to. he’s taken a lot of liberties with his good-sense and safety here, hasn’t he? a blow through a door? him confined in a room with no exit other than the door that has who knows who on the other side? penetration is obviously much more involved and lasting than a few sucks. does he want to go that far with someone he’s never directly spoken to?

he presses his middle finger to his index and together, pushes them inside, once again thrusting deep, though this time being sure to find his prostate and prod at it before retreating. he does have anal on his sheet, so he will have to do it with someone, sometime. if anonymous allows it… why not, right? get it over and done with. he justifies the want as best he can but there’s no real denying it. this is want. watching and feeling that ass wrapped tight around two fingers has him restless and keyed up. he wants to fuck anonymous because he wants to fuck him, end of story. so he really hopes anonymous doesn’t mind when he deliberately and obviously begins stretching him, fingers splitting apart to encourage him wider. ]

[ it's a damn miracle that whoever anon is on the other side hasn't heard the thudthudthud of keith's heart. this isn't how he'd pictured allowing someone to experiment with all of his most sensitive and intimate spots, and keith oscillates wildly between freaking out about what he's doing here and and mewling against the back of the chair.

the fingers holding his asscheek twitch as anonymous drags his finger out and pushes right back in with double the thickness. slick with lube and unnaturally slippery, the two fingers glide in with relative ease. keith gasps, shuddering as the fingers push inside. it's still not painful, just hard to shaked discomfort. keith takes a series of deeper breaths, only to jerk and scrape the legs of the chair forward when fingers find the spot again and then spread.

thoroughly unused to the feeling, keith groans low and throaty, grip tight on the arm rests of the chair. it's hard to say that any of this really feels natural when every instinct says to calm down and move away, but he grits his teeth and tries to focus on the bizarre way his dick feels likes being massaged at the root. breath hitching, he gives up on holding his ass open and goes right back to giving his cock a few self soothing pumps as those fingers and poke and stretch.

fuck though. asses weren't meam t for approximating volume with, but surely this guy had a dick bigger than the stretch created by two fingers? grinding his teeth to keep any further noises stifled, keith worries through the prospect of how it's all going to fit. of course, asses can accomodate quite a bit, but it's a barely reassuring thought when it takes a while for his ass to accomodate the stretching. ]

[ the amount of time shiro is willing to spend here is embarrassing. he takes his time not only to properly milk muscle loose, but to indulge himself as well. it’s enjoyable for him, to stroke his fingers back and forth, in and out. leaned in close as he is, he has the perfect view of the movement of his hand and the tremble at anonymous’ rim. it’s pretty and slick, and every so often, the drawback of his fingers has lube catching just right to squelch at that tight channel when he shoves his fingers deep again. the sound goes well with the groans that keep coming, unfiltered and unhampered through the door’s hole. every few thrusts, he’ll tap more incessantly at the man’s prostate and after a good chunk of thrusts, he’ll wriggle his ring finger into the bunch as well. stretch, thrust, tap, repeat; he alternates the order and time, letting time itself drag and drag until he’s lost track of how long they’ve been at this.

staring at the slickness around the man’s hole, as well as his fingers, has shiro thinking that ass should be wetter. not with lube. with something else. he tongues at his bottom lip at the thought, leans a little closer… but ultimately, clicks his tongue before shutting his mouth. not now. perhaps not ever. there’s something he wants more and he’s still trying to decide if that’s what anonymous wants too.

he hopes so. he really hopes so, because all of this has been working shiro over just as quickly as it has anonymous. shifting his legs to help alleviate the pressure that has been forming, shiro moans softly and presses his metal palm to the front of his pants. still some ways left to go yet, but well on his way to either taking that blowjob or ending this another way, shiro chews at his lip now, thinking, considering…

should he simply climb to his feet, knock his dick to this man’s asshole and see if he gets a nudge back? or…?

he glances to the floor as he pushes his fingers deep. mindlessly, he inches them out and around, again testing the give of the man’s hole as he reaches for the pen and paper with his right. it’s difficult to multitask, especially when his brain is already running low. so his letters come out sloppier, though still legible. there’s a pretty good gap beneath the door, so sliding the note underneath is easy. shiro only hopes the hard push he gives it has it sliding far enough for anonymous to see. ]

Want me to finish you off with my fingers?
Knock once
Want me to fuck you?
Knock twice

[ meanwhile, he’ll give up on the stretching and bring his fingers in close together to begin fingering him deep and slow again. ]

[ between the stretching and the comforting pumps up down his cock, keith starts to lose track of time. even that pinch of anxiety over the prospect of getting caught with hisp pants down and his ass pressed to the bathroom door at an abandoned house fades into obscurity the longer anonymous works and eases him open. it's nothing but fallacy to think that not getting caught after however long they've already been here means they can't be caught a minute later, but his thoughts ease adn blur with the gradual easing of discomfort into jolts of pleasure. after however long it's been, even those two fingers lodged fully inside, scissoring apart feels good enough for his dick to start leaking pre again even without keith's hand encouraging the pleasure and he trembles from head to toe.

he almost doesn't see the fucking note passed under the door, but the paper brushes the back of his heel as it's shoved through. keith bites his lip, wondering what the fuck this guy could possibly want to be talking about right now. he pushes his upper body up a little from the chair, letting his cock hand dangle. nails scraping along the floorboards, keith barely manages to pick the paper up, unable to keep from moaning as the shift in angle makes those fingers hit just right and shivers. he reads the note once, panting heavily as he cradles his dick in his hand again.

it could be over just like this. with him masturbating as some guy has his fingers shoved in his ass. embarrassingly enough it probably wouldn't even take that long to jerk one out, huh? then keith can kneel on the floor and sit withi his mouth open at the hole in the door, drooling and unthinking for a little bit while his ass throbs and then they can both get the hell out of this dilapidated house.

one knock.

but that isn't what he came here to do. he wanted to be in control. to stay in control. have the freedom to stop at any time, and not have his identity attached to his vulnerability. it's the best kind of compromise he can get in a place that offers limited choice and limited control. swallowing hard, keith takes a deep breath and with a five second delay, knocks a second time. ]

Edited (ballsack message notifs) 2022-06-06 02:01 (UTC)

[ 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. ]

Edited (goodbye pink virgin hole...) 2022-06-06 03:21 (UTC)

[ the handful of seconds after fingers slip free are excruciating. every noise keith hears through the door leaves him mangling his lower lip in some attempt to brace himself for the inevitable. curiosity and racing nerves don't mix especially well, and keith gives sweaty hands a quick wipe down on the front of his jacket before resuming his lean forward on the chair. maybe it's a bit ridiculuos that he took better to the idea of flying a sentient alien warship than he is to bending over for a stranger, but life is full of stupid contrary feelings.

the brief press of something soft right at the rim makes keith gasp out loud, hole fluttering as the tingling subsides, but it's gone soon after and keith doesn't have much time to deliberate on that that was when in the next second he hears a bottle cap being popped open and something and the man goraning as something wet squelches. tensing up reflexively, keith resumes his forced cycle of breathing in and out over a count of five.

any second now. the lack of soothing touch is something keith sorely misses by the time something hard lines up to with his hole. keith holds his breath depite knowing better than that, and lets out a sharp cry as the tip pushes on his rim anf coaxes him open. ]
Ahh!

[ he grips the chair tight with his one hand, other squeezing his dick at the base and pumping steadily as the cock pushes inside. even with however many fingers had been prepping him, the feeling of being stuffed full is damn near overwhelming. keith grabs the chair, scraping it against the floor as he pulls it closer while arching his back. it should come as some kind of relief that it still doesn't hurt -- but the man is large and he feels every fucking inch of his girth and length, and it takes more self control than keith has not to clench tight and keep him from punching the air of his lungs with his dick. thighs shaking as he pants hard through the intrusion, keith groans -- neither pleasure nor pained, just full and relaxes again slowly, rocking very slowly back and forth on the first two inches or so until he's comfortable enough to press his ass back flush to the door to take more. ]

[ he’s really tight. like, pins and needles tense, not quite ready, hardly done this before tight. shiro knows he’s a lot to take at once; he anticipates a hard push against and around him, as reflex kicks in to have that ass clenching tighter. it’s automatic. it’s the kind of reaction that most have, though ultimately learn to overcome with practice. shiro’s beginning to wonder if anonymous has that kind of practice. heh, wonder is generous. at present, shiro doesn’t have many brain cells free to do something so simple; so many are currently tied up in feels so good and holy fuck.

he’s missed this. he’s really missed pushing in slow and feeling, moment by moment, a body open for him. selfishly, he enjoys the struggle to it; he likes feeling every tremble and flutter, even the occasional jerk that slips through that careful concentration to relax. it feels good, physically, obviously, and mentally too. if anonymous is scraping at the chair and shaking on his feet, then shiro will wager that he’s likely among, if not the biggest man anonymous has ever taken. it’s a very pleasing thought, juvenile as it may be.

and he wants to hang onto that thought. he doesn’t often enjoy comparing himself to past lovers but it’s grounding here, because every time a cry or a groan filters through the balsa wood, his suspicions rise. more than that, every moment he spends hugged tight and fighting to push deeper, those suspicions become less free floating and a lot more solid. anonymous has done this before, hasn’t he? he wouldn’t have offered himself up here, now, this way if it was his first time, right?

shiro pauses in that slow, delving roll of his hips and stands stationary. mostly. he budges, marginally, for a lean at the waist that has his forehead pressing to the door. shiro doesn’t universally put value on virginity. his own hadn’t meant much to him, not when held up against the prospect of getting off with a flight mate during hell week of exams and practicals. he does hope for some people though, namely the team. and fuck he does not want to be thinking about any of them right now. three out of four, he succeeds. one remains stubbornly in his thoughts; fitting, perhaps, considering the person himself is a stubborn thing.

keith’s a virgin too, at least in this aspect. shiro wanted more for him than a hazy, get it over with moment, only given because aphro had been involved. keith deserved better than that. still does. it makes shiro wonder if he should make the same decision for anonymous here, too. he wants this. that much is certain from the knocks, as well as those little rocks that tease his cock in small fractions of an inch. this isn’t anything like it had been with keith. anonymous is clear headed and willing; it’s not shiro’s place to decide for him. he only needs to decide for himself: does he want to take someone’s virginity through a fucking gloryhole?

he pulls in a deep breath, eyes hooded and barely seeing as he tilts his head further to stare down toward the floor. ass meets the door and shiro sighs out, pushing his hips forward. he watches himself feed his cock through the hole, tiny slivers of it disappearing from view and being swallowed up by that still so tight ass on the other side. he moans and keeps feeding, having to look away because it’s too much to watch and feel. he presses his mouth to the door then, feeling the need to say something, anything, to tell anonymous he feels tight and hot and perfect. he doesn’t tell him though. he can’t. so he groans instead and keeps easing, start stopping just as before, perhaps even more than before now that he’s fairly sure of what he’s dealing with. eventually though, he will butt his hips to the door and when he does, he’ll stop, trembling through every breath as he waits for some indication that anonymous is ready. ]

[ it's an endeavor unlike anything else that keith's ever endured. he knew taking a dick this size wasn't going to be easy. hell, it'd barely fit down his throat and when forced, it'd made him tear up and choke immediately. the way things had gone with lance, too, had made it all too abundantly clear that porn makes everything look far easier than it is in reality. part of that had been down to mutual inexperience, mutual discomfort with the situation obviously, but putting aside complicated and messy feelings about coercive circumstances -- a big dick is just hard to take.

keith groans throughout, hand still gripped tight over his cock as anonymous carefully moves, slowly adding inch by inch as keith struggles to open up for him. in an increasing fit of deliriousness, it feels fucking endless. keith cries out sharp, pitched and desperate when enough of it is fed inside to pressure his prostate, pre dribbling in uncontrollable rivulets from his tip.

fuck. he starts mouthing the word only for the hard 'ck' to be punched out with in a hoarse moan as anon takes a shallow thrust. legs trembling, keith leans more heavily on the chair, no longer quite caring that his ass is the highest point of his body. this is easily the most intimately he's ever allowed himself to be touched, and yet there's a whole lot of touching that isn't happening. there's no face to look at, no hand to hold onto, no words of encouragement breathed into his ear. it's fine, it's what he wants is what keith reminds himself, but inevitably as anon pushes the rest of his cock and makes keith stifle a scream as it drags over his gland, his thoughts drift a little to the way shiro's face had gone flushed with desire as keith rolled his hips over and over until he creamed himself. ]

Fuuuuh... [ he starts then clamps his mouth back shut. he never got a good look at shiro's dick obviously, but he'd felt it nice and thick against his ass and his dick. hell, maybe anon and shiro are even a little comparable in that regard. he shivers, then resumes pumping his hard dick a little as anon takes another break. is this what sex with shiro would have felt like if shiro had fucked him that day? would shiro be pushing inside him nice and slow, too?

it's wrong to be even imagining it. both because anon is anon, and shiro hadn't wanted him that way in the end, but keith is too lost in his own head to be concerned about what he should or shouldn't be doing. if he starts down that rabbit hole, he'd have to start questioning why he's even here, presenting his ass to a strange through a fucking hole in the bathroom door.

it takes a moment for keith to even realize anon has stopped moving entirely. at this point, they've fallen into a rhythm of slowly deepening pushes and pausing, but the expected additional inch or so never comes. keith lifts his head up a little, having lost track ages ago just how much must be inside. gingerly he reaches behind and groans wetly as fingers brush around the obscene grip of his rim tight around anon's cock. shivering, he scrambles for the pen and note and scribbles out a note. ]

You don't have to be gentle.
I can take it.
And I want to feel it.
Please.

[ shivering, he drops the note onto the floor and sweeps it underneath. ]

[ shiro is expecting a long drawn moan, one with the right kind of pitch that’ll plead in the absence of words. if not that, he’s expecting, instead, that ass to start grinding and squirming in those same small rocks of before. what shiro is not expecting is for paper to catch at the floor and be shoved through the bottom crack of the door. gosh, if this man’s got a steady enough hand to jot out four lines of dialogue, then shiro certainly isn’t doing something right. or maybe he is. without even reading the words themselves, the appearance of the note all on its own signifies that the man is adjusted, ready, okay. it’s nerve wracking not being able to see his partner. shiro didn’t want to hurt him, so he’d tried his best to ease slow and gentle, and look… it seems his efforts have paid off. anonymous is fine, though, entirely impatient.

he lifts his head off the door. he probably has a big red spot in the center of his forehead with the way he’s been leaning for the past however long that took. unimportant detail, of course, and shiro doesn’t even bother to rub his fingers to the spot as he tilts to get a better read of the note.

he doesn’t have to be gentle? anonymous can take it? shiro clicks his tongue in lieu of scoffing, thinking virgins with exasperation. anonymous wants to feel it too, huh? so, earlier suspicions are confirmed: virgin or not, though he’s heavily leaning toward virgin, anonymous has never taken dick as large as his. if he had, he’d know that however shiro chooses to fuck him here, whether hard or gentle, anonymous will be feeling this tomorrow. hell, he’ll be feeling it five minutes post the pull out. the amount of pain he feels in the throb of his ass… that’s what is the aspect shiro can control here.

and again, he has no real desire to hurt anonymous. so they’re doing it his way: with patience.

dragging his gaze from staring a little too long at please, shiro redirects to where his hips still rest close to the hole. he braces both arms against the door, from palms to forearms, and then angles his hips back. halfway, that’s all, then he rolls right back deep. the thrusts are shallow. testing. encouraging in the way they keep anonymous mostly full. then he goes to two-thirds. the thrusts draw longer, though still mellow in intensity. none of it lasts too terribly long. he set himself up for patience, but he’s whittling down his willpower as much as, if not more so, than anonymous’ here.

so the first time he draws all the way back, to the point of feeling his rim gripping tight just below his tip, shiro rolls his hips and slides in with that same, measured force. but on the second pass… – he pauses for half a breath longer, with the rim teasing at his cock head, thinking can take it, want to feel it and please. with that last bit, he adjusts his feet and snaps his hips forward, hitting hard enough against the door that it rattles. there’s pain to be found in such movement, but it does take finding when everything else inside him sings yes. he grunts and moves right into the next thrust, hands still braced to the door. hitting deep and hitting hard, shiro’s far from gentle with the rhythm he adopts. throughout, he tries to match the right angle and right depth to tease his prostate, focus entirely narrowed to that third line in the note. ]

[ 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. ]

Shi- aah

Edited (typos were caught at a respectable time?? x2 and im not apologizing) 2022-06-10 06:44 (UTC)

[ good thing sex is the expected norm on these grounds, because otherwise, shiro might have been concerned some deputies would come invesitgating. a scream in a rundown house? pretty suspicious in any other circumstance. luckily for everyone here, shiro doesn’t have the concentration to be amused by his wayward thinking. so he doesn’t slow and he doesn’t laugh; he has no breath for it. he’s too busy reminding himself to take deeper breaths than the shallow, gasping things he’s stuck on. everything runs hot, from actual temperature that leaves him flushed and damp with sheens of sweat, to temperament that pushes him to continue to knock his body hard against the door. it’s an easy fuck, all things considered. all he has to do is lose himself in the rhythm; that’s all that is required of him. he doesn’t have to say anything and he doesn’t have to shell out affection with kisses or looks or grasps of his hands. yes, easy is the right word for it. selfish is too.

shiro finds he both loves it and abhors it.

he drags his fingers in and balls them into fists. he never loses the tight clench but every time he hits deep, he squeezes even tighter to press the short clip of his fingernails into his own flesh. anonymous sounds divine. actually, no, he’s the opposite of divine. sinful, that’s what anonymous is. again, shiro wants to mutter his praise into the door and let anonymous hear how approving and proud shiro is of him, for letting himself go like this. but he can’t. he can’t. it’s such an odd time to feel gutted. he shouldn't feel like that when he’s continually hitting deep. well, as deep as this door will let him.

he can almost feel it, their bodies meeting. the door stands between them, of course, but he likes to pretend it’s anonymous’ ass he’s knocking against. he likes to believe anonymous thinks this way too, with the way he’s sliding back against his thrusts, bumping to the door just as shiro hits. they both want it those few inches deeper. fuck, if this door wasn’t here, he could slide all the way inside and grind his ballsack to anonymous’, the fat head of his cock sitting heavy on his prostate. that isn’t part of their deal but shiro’s lost in the pleasure and so very indulgent on the thought of running his hands over this man, to take his cock in hand and finger each ridge while he fucks him.

his thoughts are working against him. they’re making him want things he can’t have and more damningly, seducing him quicker to the limits of his body. overeager, greedy and a little on the side of touch starved, shiro isn’t going to last at the pace he’s going. does he keep the brutality of this fuck and hope anonymous hits his orgasm first? or does he slow to catch his breath and stem off the mounting pleasure? he never reaches an answer, though, his rhythm does break. just for an entirely different reason.

shi –

it’s a split second. there isn’t time to rationalize anything. he hears shi and his mind goes, somehow conjuring up an allotment of thoughts in the span of one miniscule moment in time.

shiro?
is he saying my name?
how’d he figure it out?
holy shit, he’s going to say my name.
he sounds so good saying my name.

– ahh.

his brain doesn’t comprehend it as quickly as it should. he’s half a second shy of reality dousing that feeling of elation. he’s still thinking shiro and that’s why his hips snap even harder, hard enough that he’s going to have a red circle on his crotch. though, the balsa wood fracturing to rip the door off its top hinges helps soften the damage done to himself. he merely fucks through it. it doesn’t matter that the door has a chunk of it separated, nor does it matter that the area around the gloryhole cracks, shiro isn’t going to stop. fuck the door, he’s sick of it being in the way anyway. ]

[ it's only the first syllable and still, hearing the name even partly moaned in his own voice makes keith heart jump in his chest. no, no -- no words, no thoughts, nothing. he isn't supposed to be thinking about anything other than the unfamiliar and overwhelming bolts of pressure and pleasure being rammed through his backside.

there's a lot he ought to be worried about. like whether or not he's even going to be able to get up and move afterwards. if when the pulse of his adrenaline high high clouding his head and ass fades his ass will ever feel right again. whatever, this is all future keith's proble. for now, he has to contend with keeping his fucking mouth shut so he doesn't breathe another incriminating peep of a half name.

especiallywhining in lieu of begging with words.

don't stop, don't stop, don't--

the next thrust rips another pitched scream from his lip as anon's cock slams hard inside and makes his cock spill. behind him, there's an ominous crack of balsa wood and keith is so fucking gone on circulating endorphins that he can't even process what the fuck is going on, except that he really likes it. cock jerking in his hand, keith groans low, deep and urgent as his body shakes apart with the need to -- what? go? damn near frantic, keith yanks at his cock, base to tip frenzied desperation as he hits a peak and spills shot after shot of cum onto the seat of the chair, and all but collapsing on top of the arm rests as he gasps through the afterglow, ass milking the cock inside for everything. it has to give. ]

[ next time, he needs to find a stronger door. scratch that. next time he needs to nix the door and design a set up similar to the library shelf. something that allows him to get his hands on this man and guide his movements to rock back as shiro rocks forward, forcing out every sliver of space between them. if anonymous is loud now, then shiro can only imagine how much louder he would be – will be when he’s hitting full depth. shiro’s thoughts are wandering in fragmented, wanting pieces, completely free of any concern he’d initially had with prolonging these meetings. right now, he’s certain that he wants this again. the question is whether or not he will allow himself to follow through in attaining it when the pleasure is spent and his better rationale finds voice.

looks like he’ll be answering that question soon, because he’s not far off from finishing. physically, it’s daunting. mentally, it’s ruinous. the crack leads to a scream and then, the next roll has him thrusting into that hot, tight channel, the one that’s now clenching rhythmically to the shudders of the man’s body. he milks him beautifully, thoroughly, intensely – shiro can’t breathe through it. his lungs burn and he chokes trying to pull a sharp breath in. fuck, everything feels so good. his ears are buzzing and every nerve, all the way to his fingertips even, are tingling and thrumming with mounting pleasure.

he did that. he made anonymous feel so good. he took him through his first time and thoroughly broke that ass in, heh, maybe even ruined him a little. no one will measure up to him after this, so of course they’ll need to meet again and keith’ll just have to bend over like this again and let shiro…

wait, keith?

he doesn’t backtrack fast enough. he slips up again, once more superimposing the image of keith bent over onto the mystery someone on the other side of the door. one more thorough milking of that ass and shiro is there, slamming full force into his orgasm that it’s a miracle that he even manages to force himself out. he jerks hard on the back thrust and just barely has anonymous’ rim letting him go before shiro unloads all over his asshole. thick and warm, the cum catches in globs between his cheeks and promptly begins to seep downward, coating the underside of his ballsack.

shiro breathes out, too high on the flood of tingly feel-goods to feel embarrassed for the way he’d yelled some non-word, nonsense noise at the peak of his climax. stumbling back, shiro wobbles slightly on his legs and then gives into the desire to lower to the floor. he’s barely settles before he presses his flush cheek to the door, right beside the gloryhole and that crack. from the angle, he has a decent enough glimpse of that cum stained backside and so, shiro shamelessly takes his fill of staring at it, giving a quiet, approving moan. ]

[ the thrusting doesn't stop. even after his balls have emptied and his cock and ass are practically throbbing, the anonymous on the other side of the door keeps going and going. keith groans, holding onto the chair for dear life as shocks continue to ripple through his body, one after another refracting and rarefracting with hypersensitivity that's just on the cusp of making him scream for release again.

it stops rather abruptly as anon pulls out, and keith whines from the shock of going from overly full to clenching and grabbing at nothing at all. he shivers throughout the repeated sensation of warm, stickiness splashing on his hole before trickling down his perineum. too far fucking gone to have a single clear headed thought, keith stays heavily tilted forward on the chair, feeling entirely too fucking hot and lax to move or do anything about the steady drip drip down the back of his ass. sex fogged, all keith can think is that he feels good like this, ass held high, sore and thoroughly used. fuck, he genuinely no idea how long he stays in the same exact incriminating position with his hole still presented at the hole, but his heart beat is deafening in his ears as it starts to slow and his breathing actually calms from panting to softer, self soothing purrs. ]

[ shiro is surprised. time slips by and yet, anonymous’ ass stays right where it is. anonymous must have stronger legs than shiro does because his knees don’t buckle to bring him straight to the ground. maybe shiro didn’t nail him quite as ruinously as he’d originally believed. shiro grunts at the thought, partly disappointed. it’s brief though, this disappointment, because his thoughts wander on the explanation, only to land on something else entirely. if he didn’t tire him out before, perhaps there is more he can do. maybe that’s what anonymous is waiting for. the stubbornness needed to keep his ass poised and pressed to the hole while coming down from an orgasm carries with it expectation too. he’s waiting for something, he must be, otherwise why would he remain presented?

slowly, shiro shifts his weight and retucks his legs, settling onto his knees once more as he comes face to face with the gloryhole. he taps his upper lip with the tip of his tongue, considering the scene in front of him. the man’s ass is an absolute mess. cum coats his ass crack and trails heavily below; in the sections not coated in white, shiro can see how puffy and red his rim is. it’s gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous, and addiction quickly builds in shiro. he wants to see more of it. he wants to see all of it.

so he leans in. the bridge of his nose knocks with the slope of the gloryhole’s cut out. it’s an annoyance but one he can gladly live with, because in the next moment, his tongue is extended and he’s dragging it long and dragging it slow from his perineum to his asshole. the cum – his cum – gathers in a pile along his tongue and with the last flick across his hole, shiro draws his tongue into his mouth, swallowing down an accumulation of flavor that has no right to be enjoyable. but shiro does enjoy it. he enjoys this. it’s filthy and exciting, and so, shiro will remain mashed in close to the gloryhole, tongue lapping at the mess. ]

[ keith stretches one arm experimentally, fingers grabbing the back of the chair. obviously he can't stay here with his ass pressed to a door forever, but each time he moves his thigh half inches out of position, his ass seizess unpleasantly. again, in the back of his mind, he knows shiro would have carried him to his cot afterwards despite all insistence from keith that he can take care of himself. hilarious then, that when keith really does have to take care of himself, it feels lonely to do so. the fact that there's a bedroom one door over that he can rest in for a little while rather than attempt the walk down the flight of stairs before limping the rest of the way back to his cube is at least minor form of consolation, but it's hard not to want more than that.

too bad he left his tablet back in his cube just to avoid the possibility of somehow getting his identity leaked, huh? though maybe that'll only end up backfiring if shiro and the paladins are sending messages that aren't getting replies. fuck. so maybe he can't stay here long and maybe he needs to be making a concerted effort to get up instead of melting onto his chair.

one hard yank, keith tells himself. one solid pull up on the chair to get him properly on his feet and then he'll shuffle into the next room. whatever the etiquette is for saying goodbye to anon is a giant mystery, but obviously words are out. he takes a deep breath, psyching himself up and bracing for whatever discomfort slaps him around the ass, but what comes is not discomfort but a wet something gliding up from the back of his balls up to his ass.

keith actually fucking squeaks in surprise, clutching hard at the armrest again as his hole flutters and trembles under as anon works his tongue. it takes.... an embarrassingly long time for keith to work out that what's being applied to his ass cant possibly be a warm wet towel only because he's never once even contemplated or considered the idea that someone could ever possibly want to mouth at the filthiest part of him.

the realization sets in with mixed horror and panic. he can't possibly taste good there, can he? doubt spreads like wildfire and is just as quickly doused by the insistent press adn swirl of anon's tongue. ]

A-aaah....... fuuuuuh

[ fuck no talking. no talking. but heat spreads and spreads between his ass cheeks and over his face, tingling uncontrollable as his toes curl and uncurl in time with the lapping. fuck this is wrong and gross and filthy and -- whatever else that train of thought was, it's derailed by a sobbing moan. it's not quite the way he'd selfishly wanted to be taken care of, but it feels like anon is answering in his own way. his heart skips a stupid beat with the thought that he's being cleand up, and weirdly aches in a different way entirely.

maybe it's for the best that keith can't even begin to imagine shiro ever putting his mouth to anyone's asshole, let alone lick and suck with the kind of obvious pleasure this anon does it with, but he's trhumming all over from the sheer depravity of his first time. he pants, starting to feel his dick twitch again and only then pushes forward on the chair, dragging it along the ground and crashes onto his knees, panting heavily.

he twists to look over his shoulder at the hole in the balsa wood, expression longing and full of mixed emotions about the guy who gave him his first ass fucking, made it the polar opposite of what he'd imagined for himself and still made his dick skip with joy. head full and yet empty, keith blankly grabs his pants and gingerly pulls them up over his ankles and knees. here too, shiro would have probably helped him get dressed. held him tight.

but shiro isn't here, and instead he's staring down a door concealing a stranger he'll never get to know and might never even fuck again. but no -- no. the whole point was to not have any attachment or feeling about any of this, right? ignoring the tightness in his chest, keith squeezes his eyes shut and drags his pants up to his waist as he shakily gets to his feet. ]

[ shiro’s love, hate relationship with the door continues. the anonymity it secures is, of course, a wonderful thing, and something shiro is quickly, even concerningly, becoming attached to. but on the other side of this equation, shiro is, once again, hindered. he can’t mash his face up against skin and bury in. he can’t squeeze both cheeks and pull them wide as he tilts his chin and grazes his teeth, just barely, at that swollen rim. worse yet, he can’t push his hole wider with the fat width of his tongue. the best he manages is stretching his togue to length and prodding at anonymous’ hole. he laps and strains and laps some more, occasionally pausing to draw his tongue back in for a swallow. he swirls around on the next pass and is rewarded with another almost there word.

again, something about the sound of it pings a sense of familiarity. he’s heard that voice before; before everything they’ve done here and everything they muffled through at the library. curiosity is hard to escape, suspicion even more so. both together have his mind running while his tongue continues to play over flush, sticky skin. it’s on the third circular swipe over his asshole that shiro thinks keith, only to promptly banish the thought. no, not keith. he can’t be keith. what are the fucking odds of the two of them winding up together like this? it’s absolute blasphemy to even suggest it.

it’s just… every yell and bitten off scream he’s heard, carries a pitch similar to things caught over the comms. and the soft, overwhelmed groans? the panting? sparring used to be a fairly regular thing between them. shiro’s familiar with the way keith sounds when he’s worn thin, yet riled up on adrenaline, which isn’t too far off sex quite honestly. so it could be…?

no. first, the dick. second, the willingness to engage anonymously. third, giving up his ass like this is never something keith would do. and finally? he probably doesn’t actually even sound like keith; shiro’s been subbing keith in as anonymous a handful of times now. once is an accident, twice is pushing a boundary. anything more than that is at risk of becoming a habit and shiro can’t afford to go down that route. with this in mind, he tells himself not to be disappointed when anonymous abruptly pushes forward to fall out of reach.

the whine still slips loose. it draws out for one, two beats before shiro remembers himself and abruptly silences the embarrassing sound. nonetheless, it doesn’t deter him. his mouth is still in line with the gloryhole and upon realizing this, he makes a point to smile, wide and toothy, just in case anonymous chooses to glance his way. again, he holds position for one, two and then he scoots to the side, all trace of him disappearing from view.

so it’s over then, huh? already, disappointment fills his chest and drags his shoulders down. he busies himself by getting his pants up and over to his hips, everything tucked and covered as it should be. his next move is to wait, right? let anonymous gather himself and head out. wait five minutes or so, then get this broken door open and beeline it back to his cube. it’s the safe bet. but listening to anonymous’ slow shifting on the other side of the door, shiro’s gaze wanders to the note. he tries, for the briefest of moments, to tell himself it’s better if he doesn’t. that he shouldn’t be becoming attached to this sort of thing but…

he grabs the note and pen, writing out: ]

I want to see you again

[ wait. fuck. ]

You know what I mean
Can I contact you again?
Same place as before

[ so this is who he’s become, huh? some poor schmuck asking to go steady with a complete stranger. he should be ashamed of himself, but he isn’t, not when he glances higher on the note to stare at good boy. with that, he pushes the note through the gloryhole, fluttering the paper around to draw the eye. ]

[ the glimpse of a toothy, pleased smile keith gets through the hole is startling. his face flushes warm, heart skipping beats without permission and keith is once again reminded that he is very grateful for the anonymity. of all things, he wasn't expecting to see a smile there, and the comparative normalcy of it juxtaposed with the filth of a used glory hole does strange things to his head. that mouth had just been on his asshole, licking up cum and -- keith shivers, dick threatening further interest before he forcibly shuts down the looping playback of the last minute.

he'll be seeing that cheeky smile in his dreams and that's a fact keith doesn't even remotely know how to handle without squirming. the relief he feels when the smile disappears is palpable, but it doesn't make breathing come any easier. his ass is still tingling, and each shuffling movement as keith gets dressed only serves to remind him that he's wet and sticky from the accumulation of cum and spit. maybe it's a small blessing in disguise that when keith bends low to snatch his bag off the floor that pain shoots up his backside. it's far from the worst thing keith's ever dealt with but it's sobering at least for now.

possessions gathered, keith dares another glance at the door, heart re-entering a skip-thunk rhythm when he sees slip of paper being held out. curious and more hopeful that keith will ever admit to, he plucks the note from anon's fingers and reads. too nervous to outright laugh at the correction, keith gets a little lost and dizzy with potential of a future.

does he want it? does he not want it? keith mangles the inside of his lip as he deliberates. it's rare if ever that keith's ever wanted something like this for himself. with his curiosity for anal sated, and thoroughly satisfied that his place ca't take something from him before he's ready to give it, that should mean his answer is no, we're done here.can he want this for himself even if this is no longer satisfying any requirements on his sentence? can he use someone else for some mutual pleasure? keith fidgets embarrassed guilty and kind of happy yet conflicted all at once.

in the end, he stalls a little longer with his reply. ]

You're sure you can be a good boy?
You almost broke the door this time.

[ the note reappears through the hole and shiro is quick to pluck it up. smoothing out the edges and holding it close, he reads over the two lines and… doesn’t laugh. it’s a near thing though. he’s grinning wide, feeling the tickle of a laugh building, but ultimately, not giving into it beyond a single huff of breath. briefly, his gaze flicks to the cockeyed door and then it's back to the note. or more specifically, to his newfound favorite title.

good boy.

his lashes lower and his teeth catch at his bottom lip, rolling the flesh back and forth between his incisors for three, two, one… – he opens his eyes wider on the next blink, refocusing. he turns into the broken door, places the note against it and carefully, applies pressure with the pen, jotting right below anon’s lines: ]

Are you suggesting I go gentle next time?
Or that I find a stronger door?

[ with that, pen and paper go back through the hole. ]

[ within moments, the paper re-emerges through the hole and keith opens it up to read. bold of the guy to assume keith knew what he'd been saying, much less knows what he wants out of a hypothetical next time (if indeed he wants a next time at all), but if the broken balsa wood door is helping him come across more sure footed than in reality, then the door truly is a blessing.

fidgeting, keith glances up to where the door's been broken off the top set of hinges and despite everything, smiles a little fondly. this guy really has a bad habit of breaking things, doesn't he? there's a slight crack in one of the bookshelves at the library and now this. it shouldn't make keith feel any particular way and yet ... it's nice to think one person feels that strongly about fucking him. idly, thoughts drift towards wondering just how strong this guy has to be. ]

I think you like breaking things too much to be gentle.
If you have more you can show me you can leave me a note.
I'll see it whenever I can walk again.

[ and through the hole the note goes. it's not really an answer as to when and keith hasn't obligated himself to responding even if a note is left out for him, but keith doesn't want to deliberate on this any longer.

he winces as he grips the chair and starts to shuffle away down the hall to the next room over. ]

Edited 2022-06-15 23:37 (UTC)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

reparacija ic inbox

i can't tread down this path of tolkien nerdery

we shouldn't taint tolkien by discussing it in this cringe thread anyway

... contrary maru wants to talk about tolkien more

... if you keep bringing tolkien into this, i'm talking of walter white & his tighty whities

imagine. lotr but san is walter white in tighty whiteys

i'm not responding here anymore

DONT LIE YOU WOULD WATCH THIS

I'M ADMITTING TO NOTHING

YOUR SILENCE SAYS IT ALL.

i feel wrongly accused.

no subject

no subject

no subject

this is so stupid but i feel compelled to follow thru w the shitpost

i can't believe this is game canon now

i have a feeling this won't be the most embarrassing thing to happen to them here

sadly you are not wrong

it's fine. they're bonding, and that's the important thing here.

bonding yes. catching feels.

There's a lot of thoughts about shiro and keith going on here. v bff.

they are the bestest of best friends as always

they almost weren't yesterday. that thread has left me scarred.

would you say.... these wounds won't seem to heal?