...Yeah. But if we were on Earth we'd both have more layers than this. [They'd be Garrison Pilots instead of Paladins. His breath catches and he almost stills under Keith's touch. He'll never get tired of the way he seems to need to commit details to memory. He has a fleeting thought as his own hands seek out how to remove the Marmora armor from Keith's chest. Mornings are going to be the best part of the day.
Shiro draws back enough to unfasten his belt and gauntlets,tossing them to the floor. He's left in just the under suit, his underwear beneath it, and his boots. Good enough for now. His hands glide up Keith's well-toned thighs and tug him that last little bit of distance between them. They fit together so well he's a little light-headed when he leans in and kisses him, intent on stealing his breath.
It's different from how careful he'd been up until now. He still can't quite let himself do all he wants to, his hands splay themselves against the back of Keith's shoulders. He's unraveling, that chain he keeps himself on all the time straining to the breaking point. Just a little more and it will snap.]
[Keith opens his mouth to quip back something about layers being easily solved with a blade, but then those hands are on him and pulling him closer and he doesn't have the coherent thought left to form words. Instead it's a moan that escapes from parted lips, entirely wordless but perfectly eloquent in what it's trying to communicate -- approval, appreciation, that desire that only spikes in heat and intensity as they're pressed so close, as he only leans in closer to rock against him, hands tracing up sounders to settle at either side of Shiro's neck, urge him in closer at the first touch of his lips.
If Shiro wants him breathless, he's got it near immediately. Keith's heart can barely remember how to beat, never mind trying to focus on something so paltry as breathing.
Eventually Keith has to draw back from his lips for a shaky breath, murmuring the other man's name, barely a whisper of sound. He ducks his head so that he can kiss slowly along a strong jawline, down to his neck where he very purposefully scrapes his teeth. Keith wants those last threads of Shiro's self control to fray and snap, wants the other man to do what he wants, take what he wants. He meant what he'd said earlier, after all, that he wanted to give Shiro everything.]
[His breath escapes his lips in a rush as he tilts his head, letting Keith do whatever he wants. It's teeth on his skin a faint spark of pleasure and pain that snaps the chain. He reaches up with one hand and presses Keith's face against his bared neck.]
Go ahead and mark me, [He swallows reflexively, his skin feels like it burns where Keith has touched him. He hasn't desired anyone in a long time. He thought he never would again after the Galra made him their killing machine. The sounds he's heard, the light in violet eyes...changed that opinion entirely.
He rolls his hips up once to catch his attention to how much he wants this. He had no illusions they're both hard and wanting. He just has to communicate his own desire.]
I'm yours, right? [He twists his fingers in Keith's dark hair. They're alike in this. They need to be needed.]
[Shiro is going to destroy him. Keith is certain of that at this point, and he's entirely too willing to let him, will happily chase it for more. Because Shiro goes and says those words and it has a wave of heat coursing through him, like the blood in his veins is burning.
I'm yours. Simple enough words, but they're the most amazing thing that Keith has ever heard. He takes the encouragement all too eagerly, a harder scrape of his teeth before he presses his lips to the spot, sucking to bring a mark to the surface.
His. A softer brush of his lips.]
Mine... [He breathes out, soft and reverent, agreement even as he leans back to seek out Shiro's gaze with his own, moving in his lap, grinding down against him. He can feel how hard Shiro is, knows his own arousal has to be just as obvious, but he doesn't want to hide it. He wants Shiro to know, to understand how much he wants this, him.]
And I'm yours... [He promises, voice a breathy rush.] Make me yours.
God... Shiro. I want you. [Like he has never wanted anyone before. And now that they've actually gotten it out in the open, he's not shy about admitting it.]
[He groans and tightens his hold on Keith, fisting his hand in his hair. His hand relaxes in the next breath. He can feel a dull throb from what is undoubtedly going to be a mark. It's a wonderful feeling.
His hands fall to Keith's thighs as he rocks into every grind, his lips curling into an almost feral smile. There's already that pleasant burn curling with the need singing in his veins. The rest of their clothes need to come off.]
Yeah? ...Don't worry, I will. [His voice comes out husky and a bit breathless. Screw hiding it, they're through with secrets and none need to be here. Keith asked him to make his claim and he leans in, hands seeking out how to get Keith's body suit off of him as he murmurs against his lips.]
Keith... right here or the bed? I don't care which but one will be easier on you than the other. [It's Keith's first time. Or he has yet to be corrected on that fact. Either way he knows that he has to be careful with him.]
[The sound of Shiro's voice alone has Keith shivering, has his breath catching in his throat. He can hear the desire in it, a desire that mirrors his own, and it's almost too much. Keith pants softly to the older man's lips, his own hands moving to see about opening Shiro's suit as well, moving to peel it off him, so his hands can properly map out warm skin, can trace the contours and angles of muscle, along the edges of old scars, everything of him.
He does pause, with a smile of his own, hands only straying from Shiro long enough to free his arms from his clothes. He leans in to steal another kiss, linger against Shiro's lips before he remembers he should answer.]
Bed? [He manages in a breathless rush, less about what might be easier, but more about the fact that even when this ends, he knows he isn't going to want to let go of Shiro. But it certainly is his first time being with anyone, and maybe that's obvious. He's running on instinct, entirely, doing what feels right without questioning it, trusting Shiro enough to follow his lead in this.]
Or anywhere. Just... [A smile, the expression heated, violet eyes fixing on Shiro's, all spark and challenge, one he's certain Shiro will meet.] ...don't keep me waiting.
Edited (html is my nemesis) 2018-05-27 04:43 (UTC)
[The brush of hands and the sudden rush of cool air against his back feels like an answer. Okay then. He pulled back enough to get the suit down to his waist. His scars are exposed and he’d have been wary of showing them but his lap is full of a hot, very attractive Keith stripping, and that takes precedence. Good god does it.
He leans back in, his hand trailing down bare skin and shoving the front of the suit down so he can follow the hard lines of Keith’s chest when a word translates into the answer he’d been waiting for. He is already slipping his hands down and around to lock under his butt and thigh. Shiro stands up, turns and lays the smaller man out on the bed. He settles over him and sets to stripping the suit completely off as he peppers the inviting bared neck with scrapes of his teeth and kisses.
His hands trace of bare skin and he moves down, kissing his chest and his hip, The black body suit gets tossed aside. He’s smart enough not to be a tease. This time. Some time he’ll have to wind Keith up until he’s so wrecked he can’t even form words. Not tonight. He straddles his hips and works his own suit down, shifting to get it off all the way. His briefs follow because he can’t be bothered to be slow about it. He reaches over and hits a small hidden button. A small compartment of a first aid kit, condoms, lube, all the important things he isn’t about to talk about and honestly kept out of habit to be safe are. It’s not much and he grabs the mostly unused liube and a condom. He is not going to be in the mood to clean up after.
He doubts Keith would even feel up to it and he has no desire to make this uncomfortable. He drops both onto the bed and reaches back to wrap his hand around Keith’s erection and give it a few slow strokes. Even touching him like this is sending tingles through him. He shivers.]
Just checking before I take us all the way...your preference is I take you, right? [He looks at Keith with a faint concern, making absolutely sure Keith’s wants are met is important to him. He isn’t going to object if ‘I want to give everything to you’ means he would prefer to lead. Or if he wants to mess around more before they get down to it.]
[Keith is so caught up in Shiro -- in letting his fingers wander over newly bared skin like it's by far the most fascinating thing that he's ever seen, ever touched -- that he barely even notices that Shiro is moving the both of them until he finds himself laid back onto the bed, looking up at the other man with a gaze that has gone nearly molten in its desire.
He arches into that touch, squirming a bit too much to be helpful in Shiro stripping the rest of his suit off, but certainly not trying to get in his way of it because that's the last thing Keith wants. He's already so wound up, so turned on and over his head with desire like he's never felt this intensely before, that he can't possibly conceive of waiting a moment more.]
A-aah.. [A soft sound that tries to be a word but breaks at the feeling of those teeth. Keith reaches for Shiro, hands running up his arms, his shoulders, though he's distracted by watching, making a point of lifting his eyebrows at Shiro's admirable preparation, a wicked smile stretching over his lips -- an expression that softens somehow as Shiro speaks.
Always so mindful, always so willing to look out for everyone else. Shiro is... Shiro. And Keith's chest aches with how much he adores this man, beyond just the physical desire (which is clearly intense in its own right).]
Yeah. [A grin, a challenge really, like it so often is with Keith.] My preference is that you take me. That you fuck me. That you make me yours. [Keith reaches a hand up, fingers tracing along Shiro's jaw.] What's your preference, Shiro?
[He feels light headed again. Keith's hands have branded their heat into his skin. He leans into the brush of his fingers and reaches up to catch that hand. He turns his head, brushing a kiss over his palm. This is the man he loves. Keith brought him home again and again, and now he can finally give back to him. Give him everything.]
Making this good for you ..and it's Takashi, remember? [He opens his eyes that have gone dark with desire. Keith's grin goes straight through him. He leans over him again as he releases his hand, skimming his hand up along his hip. He runs his hand up higher over ribs and along his arm.]
I want to give you everything. [He cups his face between his hands, one sliding into his hair as he presses his lips to his in an open-mouthed kiss. He puts everything into it, his hand in Keith's hair ready to gently guide him so they can make this better.
His free hand falls to the bed and reaches for the bottle, pulling it close.]
[Something in the simple, sweet little touch of those lips to his palm has Keith's heart threatening to seize up in his chest. No one in his life has ever touched him or looked at him this way, with so much affection, like somehow he's someone special. It's almost too much to handle.
Keith half opens his mouth to remind Shiro that he's allowed to want things for his own sake and not just other people's, but the thought is derailed by what Shiro says next, then further shattered when he meets that gaze. Keith can't explain why, but something about calling the other man by name sets an oddly fluttery feeling low in his stomach. Not playing fair.]
Takashi... [He repeats in that moment before Shiro's mouth is on his, before he's arching up to meet that kiss like he needs it to survive, arms winding around him, fingers pressing tightly into the muscle of his back, nails digging into skin more than he means to. Shiro isn't getting out of this unscathed. Keith voices a wordless moan softly, lost in the midst of the kiss, slowly dragging his nails down Shiro's back.]
[He groans, the sound partly muffled by the kiss and arches into the nails dragging down his skin leaving trails of heat in their wake. It's been a long time since anyone used his name. Hearing it again and knowing the man that said it is as incredible as Keith. His Keith...
He presses into the kiss, eagerly deepening it as he carefully tilts Keith's head with his hand to make it better for both of them. He's never loved anyone and been loved in return like this. He slips one hand down up under a warm thigh and urges it to move to the side.
He pops the cap of the lube as he reluctantly draws back from the kiss with a shudder. Shiro rests his forehead against his to catch his breath.] Spread your thighs a little more? I'm going to get you ready.
[He meets his eyes and smiles, a little embarrassed but happy.]
[How long has Shiro been the exception to every rule for Keith? Keith has never been one for physical contact, for heartfelt embraces or simple, physical gestures -- except with Shiro. Keith has never been good at falling and following anyone else's lead -- except with Shiro. Keith has never had anyone that he's trusted so completely, who's believed in him, who has always, ultimately, been his place to belong... except for Shiro. Keith loves him, more than he's managed to put into words yet. But he will, god he will, because he wants, needs, Shiro to know it.
Even now, as he tilts his head at that urging, very nearly purring his approval to the older man's lips, he's entirely pliant in a way he's never really been.
A soft, shaky breath as the kiss breaks, and violet eyes open to fix a half-dazed gaze on Shiro, lips parted as he tries to get his breathing back under control. He shifts his legs apart, all eagerness, no shred of hesitation. His hands map their way up along Shiro's chest, and Keith can't resist lifting his chin to steal another kiss, brief, ending with his teeth catching at the other's lower lip.]
No.... [Nothing shy in Keith, nothing nervous. He's always been the type to throw himself straight into things he wants, and he's never wanted anything half as much as he wants Shiro.] But I want it. I trust you.
He marvels all over again at how Keith charges head first into anything unknown. He's appreciated it on the battlefield and here in the bedroom its... It makes his heart beat faster and urges him to show him everything. And he's never seen him this relaxed and open. He did this.
He never realized how much they both needed to fall deeper into each other. Shiro brushes dark hair away from violet eyes with a happy sigh.]
...Yeah, I know you do. [He steals a brief kiss but he keeps it light. He sits up enough to shift Keith a little and pour out the right amount of lube into his palm. Leaning over Keith he nips and bites at his neck, between warning him.]
It will be a little cold. Just relax. [He's careful as he slips his fingers down and spreads lube around his entrance. Shiro draws back from Keith's neck to check his face when he gently slides one finger inside.]
[By now Shiro has to realize that there doesn't exist a place in any universe that Keith won't follow him, and following him down this path -- that Keith has wanted to explore but been entirely too scared of it crumbling beneath his feet -- is thrilling. He's known how much he's wanted Shiro for a long while, and now he's fully aware how desperately he needs him.
And more than that, that Shiro wants him too, now that Keith has learned that, he can't, won't hold back anymore.
His head falls back as those teeth bite at his neck, and he wouldn't mind if Shiro's leaving marks, some evidence of his presence and passing that Keith can trace with idle fingers later, summon up the memory with that little tangible reminder.
Hands run up Shiro's neck, over short hair, touching because he needs to touch or he's sure he'll start trembling more than he is in excited (and nervous) anticipation. He tries to relax, like Shiro's said, take sa shaky breath that catches as that finger begins to press inside him.]
A-ah... [Not a word, just a sound, one that slips past parted lips before he realizes it. He meets the older man's gaze though, teeth pressing into his bottom lip as he nods.]
Yeah... I'm good... it's good. [It's new, and it's different and it makes him want to squirm where he's laid out, but it also makes him want more. His hands lift to frame Shiro's face. Always so gentle, always so mindful, his Shiro. Keith almost wants to remind him that he isn't delicate, but somehow, some part of him doesn't mind.]
Let me know if it stops being good. I've found...it always helps to focus on breathing. It will keep it from being overwhelming. [He can practically hear Keith telling him he's not fragile even if he doesn't say it. As if he ever needed that reminder. Shiro leans in, kissing him slowly and works his finger time with every brush of their lips. The sound he'd heard...it's like a spark of heat snapping across his senses and urging him to coax more of him.
He shamelessly leans into Keith's hands, basking in being allowed to be this close. All this is theirs and he loves it. Loves the man under him and needs him more than he has words for. He pulls back a bit to trace his other hand down the side of Keith's well-toned chest. It makes him realize Keith is trembling just a little. It seems alright. Keith would have told him if something is wrong. At least, he hopes so. His fingers slide over old scars and he watches his face for any sign what he's doing isn't welcome.
Eyes still on his, he eases a second finger inside. This time he only waits a moment before he resumes the steady roll of his wrist. He knows from experience (though it has been a while since he bottomed to anyone) the adjustment will be a little easier.]
Next time, we're going to take our time. I have so much to show you.
[Nothing will stop any of this from being overwhelming, honestly. But Keith is more than okay with that. After all, he's dealing with an embarrassingly strong flutter in his heart every time Shiro so much as looks at him, never mind when those lips are on his, when he's rising up to meet that kiss and each that follows. It's a perfect distraction, enough that the tension eases out of him, adjusting to how it feels to have that finger moving inside him.
He tries to breathe, tries to draw in a steady breath, but it shakes, leaving him in a breathless rush, a soft whimper of a moan as Shiro adds a second finger, his toes curling into the sheets beneath him. Keith is... trying to be patient. He really is. He knows he needs to be, knows that this part is important, but god he just wants to feel Shiro inside him, know what it's like to have all of him.
His own hands can't stop moving, mapping their way down along Shiro's chest, tracing the angle of each muscle, fingers lingering here and there where he can feel the shape of a scar, each a reminder of everything Shiro's been through, lived through, to be here. With him. Fingers slip down lower, reaching as best he can, his fingertips finding and tracing slow and deliberate along the length of his arousal.]
Show me everything... [Keith agrees, unable to hide how his expression lights up at next time.
But this time, this time, he squirms against the bed, hand moving to wrap around Shiro more firmly,] But this time... don't keep me waiting? Please, Takashi..?
[He hadn’t ever prepared for being in bed with Keith. It’s almost overwhelming after a year and more of unavoidable celibacy. But he’s touching just as much, licking his way into his mouth hungry for every taste of him he can get. His hand maps every line and commits them to memory. He jerks back with a groan when fingers brush over his arousal. He holds still, unable to focus on what he should be doing. It has been too long and a hand callused from holding swords...there’s a joke there somewhere but he’s too keyed up to think beyond Keith.
It’s a bit like a window into how this will go whenever Keith decides to take him instead. Or no. Just them in general sinking into each other. That sounds more accurate to his pleasure addled mind.
He removes his fingers and reaches for the bottle of lube. He can’t wait anymore. Not with Keith’s hand on him. They both aren’t going to last long. He wraps his own hand around Keith and strokes nice and slow to mirror his own touch.]
I won’t. [He lets go long enough to carefully get the condom on and pulls him a hair closer. Shiro leans over him and lines himself up, slowly pressing inside as he murmurs soft encouragements. He does take his time. He won’t hurt him. Not here.
When his hips meet the back of Keith’s thighs he runs his hands over the back of them.] Let me know when you’re good to keep going.
[Keith will have Shiro each and every way that he can possibly have him. He won't be able to let go after this, but there was no chance he'd ever let go to begin with, once he found out that these feelings were mutual -- a fact that he thinks must border on the downright miraculous, but the existence of which he is not questioning in the slightest. And maybe that's telling in its own way; one of Keith's most proficient skills is pushing people away before they have the chance to do the same to him. But that never has been the case with Shiro, never will be. He needs him too much.
A groan, probably too loud, probably bordering on being heard in the halls if he isn't careful, when that hand finds his length, hips jerking towards the touch. A sharp breath in and he smiles up at him, arms reaching up as Shiro leans over him, wrapping around him so he can press fingertips against his back, hold tightly as Shiro begins to press inside him, as he can feel his body begin to yield for him. Keith is outright clinging, like he needs something to hold onto as Shiro sinks inside him inch by inch. It borders on too much, but god it's perfect, it's what he wants, as he feels Shiro's hips flush to his thighs.
Just a moment to try to catch his breath, but his heart is beating too fast for that. Instead he shifts his leg, running it along Shiro's, deliberate until he hooks it over the older man's hip, lips stretching into a grin.] Keep going... I'm ready. Fuck me.
[He'll remember Keith's smile for the rest of his life. It's warm and belongs to him. No, them. It had taken all of his control to sink in slowly. All he had wanted to do was pull them both into a space that's theirs. The only thing left to think about would have how Keith feels and sounds, how those hands in his hair and on his body make him feel alive.
Warm hands keep him steady and that alone is almost too much. He hisses through his teeth when Keith teases him with one lovely leg runs up against his, a reminder of how much strength is under him. It almost takes his breath away. Keith's dark hair is spilled over the pillow and pupils blown, only a thin ring of violet left. He knows he isn't any better.
Shiro pulls his other leg up, letting Keith do whatever he wants with them as he draws slowly out, burying his face against Keith's neck with a groan. He wants to draw this out. Make this last. But they need this. He presses back in, starting slow to let them both get used to each other and the tempo of their breathing, their everything aligning like two parts of the same song.
Shiro reaches for and catches one of Keith's hands, pressing it to the bed and threading their fingers together. He shifts his other hand to the bed to brace himself with a low growl of Keith's name and he stopped caring who heard them about the time their clothes came off.
He can deal with possible embarrassment later. It's too late for anyone to interrupt and the door is locked. No one would be stupid enough to try with his temper being what it has been.]
[God does Keith need this. More than he realized it was possible to need something with an ache that exists simultaneously in his body and heart and soul, an ache that Shiro's presence is soothing and satisfying. His fingers flex as they tangle with Shiro's, his gaze drifting over to their joined hands for a long moment. It's such a small gesture, but it sends a rush of warmth through him
He's never been one for romanticizing; on the contrary, he's more than a little cynical, but somehow this feels like it was meant to be, like all the rough and jagged, wickedly sharp edges he has have somehow found their match in the other man, fitted together like the missing pieces he never realized were missing.
His free hand lifts to tangle into Shiro's hair, at the same time he hooks both his legs around Shiro's hips, the better to move with him, to arch against with each thrust. Keith cries out, wordless, but there's no doubt at all that it's a plea for more. He doesn't care who hears. And his sense of shame is flimsy enough that he'll really only be proud that someone else knows that Shiro is his, that he's Shiro's, because he's certainly already made that promise.]
Takashi... [His name again, as thrilling as it is to use, exhaled like a prayer.] It's good... you feel so good... more... [Well. He's always been a little demanding. No help for it.]
[Every time Keith says his name in that breathy tone it short circuits what's left of his mind. He lets go of Keith's hand to bury both of his hands into his dark hair. He kisses him like it's the first and last, sinking everything into it as he picks up the pace, snapping his hips forward. He nips at Keith's bottom lip as he angles his head to make the kiss feel better.
He wants to brand this moment into him so Keith knows without a doubt he's laid his claim on him. It's ridiculously possessive. He's not usually this needy. Shiro breaks from the kiss to nip his way down his jaw, seeking anything to wring more noise out of him. His hands slide over Keith's chest, and down over his sides to grip his hips.
Where is it? He wants to hear him cry out his name. That tiny voice of reason suggests that is not a good idea and is pretty reckless. He crushes it, shifting the angle, and watching Keith's face.] Keith...
[He brushes Keith's dark hair back away from his face.] Keep telling me...what you want.
[Keith loses the better part of a moan to Shiro's lips as he returns that kiss, eager, just shy of desperate, like he's been starving for him in the short time since their lips last met. His hands lift to curl his fingers tot he nape of Shiro's neck before dropping, bracing against his shoulders. He just needs to hold on... just needs that contact because it feels like Shiro might be the only stable point in the universe right now, while everything else is rushing around him.
His head falls back to the pillow, neck arching towards that attention, voice catching on soft whimpered sounds that seem to be shaken loose every time the other man moves against him, at least until Shiro shifts his hips, at least until the next thrust of the other inside him brings his length up against that spot inside him. Keith arches, nearly rising off the bed like the artificial gravity has suddenly let go of him alone, and a sob of a sound breaks free.
His hands scramble for purchase, fingers pressing tightly to muscle as he looks up at Shiro, eyes wide, trying desperately to form words.]
[Keith had said don’t keep him waiting. And they certainly have waited to reach this point long enough. Keith is almost beyond words. He isn’t sure he will be able to keep them up either. He wants it to last but that could always be next time. The decision is easy. He has the right angle to tear every sound he wants out of him.
And like he’d thought before, they needed this. Shiro braces both hands on the bed to steady himself and builds to a fast hard rhythm. Whatever little semblance of control evaporates. The soft litany of growls and gasps cuts off as he focuses entirely on driving them to completion. He wants them both to fall over the edge together and float in a mutual bliss. He leans down to catch his lips with his, licking into his mouth. Each powerful thrust drives him closer and closer to the edge.
He isn’t going to last much longer than Keith will. That’s fine. Neither of them have to feel guilty.]
[Keith can nearly sense the change coming, like a shift in the atmosphere, that sudden flash in pressure before a storm breaks. He's almost braced for it as Shiro starts to move faster, harder, against him, inside him. Keiths's voice rises, a wordless cry that echoes about the small room and then disappears entirely because Shiro's lips are on his sand he needs to kiss him more than he needs air in his lungs.
He arches against him, rocked hard back into the mattress with each crash of those hips to his ass, his entire body trembling as he can feel the heat building low and tight in the pit of his stomach. Each movement brings Shiro plunging deep inside him, brings his own arousal trapped between both their stomachs. It's too much. He can't last, and he knows it, and he needs it.
His hands reach up, gripping at short, dark hair as much as he can, and he breaks from Shiro's lips to draw in a desperate breath of air, that he exhales in a cry of his name as he finds his release, back arching sharply, legs gripping tightly around him. Keith swears his vision splinters into a million pinpoints of light, like the rest of the world has disappeared entirely, and the only thing that even exists anymore is Shiro, above him, inside him, the warmth building between them.]
[The heat winds through him and the pressure that had been steadily building up until now winds tighter and tighter. Long fingered hands grip his hair and he jerks his head up at the same time Keith breathes in. He dips his head down, nipping at his jaw and his name washes into his ear.
Keith tenses below him, body bent like a bow and his toned thighs gripping him, pulling him in. Then it's like the world shatters and he buries his face against Keith's neck, biting down to silence his own cry. His release hits him like a wave and he wraps his arms around Keith as it tears every thought apart. There's just them.
Keith around him and under him, hands in his hair clenching almost too tightly. Then it ebbs, like the sea drawing back. Shiro sinks down, his cheek against Keith's. He feels exhausted and drunk, with no strength to get up. In a minute he'll have to. They need to clean up before they sleep.
When he remembers how to speak again. He runs his fingers up and down Keith's arm as he finally manages to murmur.]
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Shiro draws back enough to unfasten his belt and gauntlets,tossing them to the floor. He's left in just the under suit, his underwear beneath it, and his boots. Good enough for now. His hands glide up Keith's well-toned thighs and tug him that last little bit of distance between them. They fit together so well he's a little light-headed when he leans in and kisses him, intent on stealing his breath.
It's different from how careful he'd been up until now. He still can't quite let himself do all he wants to, his hands splay themselves against the back of Keith's shoulders. He's unraveling, that chain he keeps himself on all the time straining to the breaking point. Just a little more and it will snap.]
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If Shiro wants him breathless, he's got it near immediately. Keith's heart can barely remember how to beat, never mind trying to focus on something so paltry as breathing.
Eventually Keith has to draw back from his lips for a shaky breath, murmuring the other man's name, barely a whisper of sound. He ducks his head so that he can kiss slowly along a strong jawline, down to his neck where he very purposefully scrapes his teeth. Keith wants those last threads of Shiro's self control to fray and snap, wants the other man to do what he wants, take what he wants. He meant what he'd said earlier, after all, that he wanted to give Shiro everything.]
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Go ahead and mark me, [He swallows reflexively, his skin feels like it burns where Keith has touched him. He hasn't desired anyone in a long time. He thought he never would again after the Galra made him their killing machine. The sounds he's heard, the light in violet eyes...changed that opinion entirely.
He rolls his hips up once to catch his attention to how much he wants this. He had no illusions they're both hard and wanting. He just has to communicate his own desire.]
I'm yours, right? [He twists his fingers in Keith's dark hair. They're alike in this. They need to be needed.]
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I'm yours. Simple enough words, but they're the most amazing thing that Keith has ever heard. He takes the encouragement all too eagerly, a harder scrape of his teeth before he presses his lips to the spot, sucking to bring a mark to the surface.
His. A softer brush of his lips.]
Mine... [He breathes out, soft and reverent, agreement even as he leans back to seek out Shiro's gaze with his own, moving in his lap, grinding down against him. He can feel how hard Shiro is, knows his own arousal has to be just as obvious, but he doesn't want to hide it. He wants Shiro to know, to understand how much he wants this, him.]
And I'm yours... [He promises, voice a breathy rush.] Make me yours.
God... Shiro. I want you. [Like he has never wanted anyone before. And now that they've actually gotten it out in the open, he's not shy about admitting it.]
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His hands fall to Keith's thighs as he rocks into every grind, his lips curling into an almost feral smile. There's already that pleasant burn curling with the need singing in his veins. The rest of their clothes need to come off.]
Yeah? ...Don't worry, I will. [His voice comes out husky and a bit breathless. Screw hiding it, they're through with secrets and none need to be here. Keith asked him to make his claim and he leans in, hands seeking out how to get Keith's body suit off of him as he murmurs against his lips.]
Keith... right here or the bed? I don't care which but one will be easier on you than the other. [It's Keith's first time. Or he has yet to be corrected on that fact. Either way he knows that he has to be careful with him.]
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He does pause, with a smile of his own, hands only straying from Shiro long enough to free his arms from his clothes. He leans in to steal another kiss, linger against Shiro's lips before he remembers he should answer.]
Bed? [He manages in a breathless rush, less about what might be easier, but more about the fact that even when this ends, he knows he isn't going to want to let go of Shiro. But it certainly is his first time being with anyone, and maybe that's obvious. He's running on instinct, entirely, doing what feels right without questioning it, trusting Shiro enough to follow his lead in this.]
Or anywhere. Just... [A smile, the expression heated, violet eyes fixing on Shiro's, all spark and challenge, one he's certain Shiro will meet.] ...don't keep me waiting.
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He leans back in, his hand trailing down bare skin and shoving the front of the suit down so he can follow the hard lines of Keith’s chest when a word translates into the answer he’d been waiting for. He is already slipping his hands down and around to lock under his butt and thigh. Shiro stands up, turns and lays the smaller man out on the bed. He settles over him and sets to stripping the suit completely off as he peppers the inviting bared neck with scrapes of his teeth and kisses.
His hands trace of bare skin and he moves down, kissing his chest and his hip, The black body suit gets tossed aside. He’s smart enough not to be a tease. This time. Some time he’ll have to wind Keith up until he’s so wrecked he can’t even form words. Not tonight. He straddles his hips and works his own suit down, shifting to get it off all the way. His briefs follow because he can’t be bothered to be slow about it. He reaches over and hits a small hidden button. A small compartment of a first aid kit, condoms, lube, all the important things he isn’t about to talk about and honestly kept out of habit to be safe are. It’s not much and he grabs the mostly unused liube and a condom. He is not going to be in the mood to clean up after.
He doubts Keith would even feel up to it and he has no desire to make this uncomfortable. He drops both onto the bed and reaches back to wrap his hand around Keith’s erection and give it a few slow strokes. Even touching him like this is sending tingles through him. He shivers.]
Just checking before I take us all the way...your preference is I take you, right? [He looks at Keith with a faint concern, making absolutely sure Keith’s wants are met is important to him. He isn’t going to object if ‘I want to give everything to you’ means he would prefer to lead. Or if he wants to mess around more before they get down to it.]
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He arches into that touch, squirming a bit too much to be helpful in Shiro stripping the rest of his suit off, but certainly not trying to get in his way of it because that's the last thing Keith wants. He's already so wound up, so turned on and over his head with desire like he's never felt this intensely before, that he can't possibly conceive of waiting a moment more.]
A-aah.. [A soft sound that tries to be a word but breaks at the feeling of those teeth. Keith reaches for Shiro, hands running up his arms, his shoulders, though he's distracted by watching, making a point of lifting his eyebrows at Shiro's admirable preparation, a wicked smile stretching over his lips -- an expression that softens somehow as Shiro speaks.
Always so mindful, always so willing to look out for everyone else. Shiro is... Shiro. And Keith's chest aches with how much he adores this man, beyond just the physical desire (which is clearly intense in its own right).]
Yeah. [A grin, a challenge really, like it so often is with Keith.] My preference is that you take me. That you fuck me. That you make me yours. [Keith reaches a hand up, fingers tracing along Shiro's jaw.] What's your preference, Shiro?
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Making this good for you ..and it's Takashi, remember? [He opens his eyes that have gone dark with desire. Keith's grin goes straight through him. He leans over him again as he releases his hand, skimming his hand up along his hip. He runs his hand up higher over ribs and along his arm.]
I want to give you everything. [He cups his face between his hands, one sliding into his hair as he presses his lips to his in an open-mouthed kiss. He puts everything into it, his hand in Keith's hair ready to gently guide him so they can make this better.
His free hand falls to the bed and reaches for the bottle, pulling it close.]
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Keith half opens his mouth to remind Shiro that he's allowed to want things for his own sake and not just other people's, but the thought is derailed by what Shiro says next, then further shattered when he meets that gaze. Keith can't explain why, but something about calling the other man by name sets an oddly fluttery feeling low in his stomach. Not playing fair.]
Takashi... [He repeats in that moment before Shiro's mouth is on his, before he's arching up to meet that kiss like he needs it to survive, arms winding around him, fingers pressing tightly into the muscle of his back, nails digging into skin more than he means to. Shiro isn't getting out of this unscathed. Keith voices a wordless moan softly, lost in the midst of the kiss, slowly dragging his nails down Shiro's back.]
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He presses into the kiss, eagerly deepening it as he carefully tilts Keith's head with his hand to make it better for both of them. He's never loved anyone and been loved in return like this. He slips one hand down up under a warm thigh and urges it to move to the side.
He pops the cap of the lube as he reluctantly draws back from the kiss with a shudder. Shiro rests his forehead against his to catch his breath.] Spread your thighs a little more? I'm going to get you ready.
[He meets his eyes and smiles, a little embarrassed but happy.]
Ever got off that way before?
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Even now, as he tilts his head at that urging, very nearly purring his approval to the older man's lips, he's entirely pliant in a way he's never really been.
A soft, shaky breath as the kiss breaks, and violet eyes open to fix a half-dazed gaze on Shiro, lips parted as he tries to get his breathing back under control. He shifts his legs apart, all eagerness, no shred of hesitation. His hands map their way up along Shiro's chest, and Keith can't resist lifting his chin to steal another kiss, brief, ending with his teeth catching at the other's lower lip.]
No.... [Nothing shy in Keith, nothing nervous. He's always been the type to throw himself straight into things he wants, and he's never wanted anything half as much as he wants Shiro.] But I want it. I trust you.
[With his life, his heart, his body too.]
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He marvels all over again at how Keith charges head first into anything unknown. He's appreciated it on the battlefield and here in the bedroom its... It makes his heart beat faster and urges him to show him everything. And he's never seen him this relaxed and open. He did this.
He never realized how much they both needed to fall deeper into each other. Shiro brushes dark hair away from violet eyes with a happy sigh.]
...Yeah, I know you do. [He steals a brief kiss but he keeps it light. He sits up enough to shift Keith a little and pour out the right amount of lube into his palm. Leaning over Keith he nips and bites at his neck, between warning him.]
It will be a little cold. Just relax. [He's careful as he slips his fingers down and spreads lube around his entrance. Shiro draws back from Keith's neck to check his face when he gently slides one finger inside.]
Still doing okay?
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And more than that, that Shiro wants him too, now that Keith has learned that, he can't, won't hold back anymore.
His head falls back as those teeth bite at his neck, and he wouldn't mind if Shiro's leaving marks, some evidence of his presence and passing that Keith can trace with idle fingers later, summon up the memory with that little tangible reminder.
Hands run up Shiro's neck, over short hair, touching because he needs to touch or he's sure he'll start trembling more than he is in excited (and nervous) anticipation. He tries to relax, like Shiro's said, take sa shaky breath that catches as that finger begins to press inside him.]
A-ah... [Not a word, just a sound, one that slips past parted lips before he realizes it. He meets the older man's gaze though, teeth pressing into his bottom lip as he nods.]
Yeah... I'm good... it's good. [It's new, and it's different and it makes him want to squirm where he's laid out, but it also makes him want more. His hands lift to frame Shiro's face. Always so gentle, always so mindful, his Shiro. Keith almost wants to remind him that he isn't delicate, but somehow, some part of him doesn't mind.]
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He shamelessly leans into Keith's hands, basking in being allowed to be this close. All this is theirs and he loves it. Loves the man under him and needs him more than he has words for. He pulls back a bit to trace his other hand down the side of Keith's well-toned chest. It makes him realize Keith is trembling just a little. It seems alright. Keith would have told him if something is wrong. At least, he hopes so. His fingers slide over old scars and he watches his face for any sign what he's doing isn't welcome.
Eyes still on his, he eases a second finger inside. This time he only waits a moment before he resumes the steady roll of his wrist. He knows from experience (though it has been a while since he bottomed to anyone) the adjustment will be a little easier.]
Next time, we're going to take our time. I have so much to show you.
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He tries to breathe, tries to draw in a steady breath, but it shakes, leaving him in a breathless rush, a soft whimper of a moan as Shiro adds a second finger, his toes curling into the sheets beneath him. Keith is... trying to be patient. He really is. He knows he needs to be, knows that this part is important, but god he just wants to feel Shiro inside him, know what it's like to have all of him.
His own hands can't stop moving, mapping their way down along Shiro's chest, tracing the angle of each muscle, fingers lingering here and there where he can feel the shape of a scar, each a reminder of everything Shiro's been through, lived through, to be here. With him. Fingers slip down lower, reaching as best he can, his fingertips finding and tracing slow and deliberate along the length of his arousal.]
Show me everything... [Keith agrees, unable to hide how his expression lights up at next time.
But this time, this time, he squirms against the bed, hand moving to wrap around Shiro more firmly,] But this time... don't keep me waiting? Please, Takashi..?
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It’s a bit like a window into how this will go whenever Keith decides to take him instead. Or no. Just them in general sinking into each other. That sounds more accurate to his pleasure addled mind.
He removes his fingers and reaches for the bottle of lube. He can’t wait anymore. Not with Keith’s hand on him. They both aren’t going to last long. He wraps his own hand around Keith and strokes nice and slow to mirror his own touch.]
I won’t. [He lets go long enough to carefully get the condom on and pulls him a hair closer. Shiro leans over him and lines himself up, slowly pressing inside as he murmurs soft encouragements. He does take his time. He won’t hurt him. Not here.
When his hips meet the back of Keith’s thighs he runs his hands over the back of them.] Let me know when you’re good to keep going.
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[Keith will have Shiro each and every way that he can possibly have him. He won't be able to let go after this, but there was no chance he'd ever let go to begin with, once he found out that these feelings were mutual -- a fact that he thinks must border on the downright miraculous, but the existence of which he is not questioning in the slightest. And maybe that's telling in its own way; one of Keith's most proficient skills is pushing people away before they have the chance to do the same to him. But that never has been the case with Shiro, never will be. He needs him too much.
A groan, probably too loud, probably bordering on being heard in the halls if he isn't careful, when that hand finds his length, hips jerking towards the touch. A sharp breath in and he smiles up at him, arms reaching up as Shiro leans over him, wrapping around him so he can press fingertips against his back, hold tightly as Shiro begins to press inside him, as he can feel his body begin to yield for him. Keith is outright clinging, like he needs something to hold onto as Shiro sinks inside him inch by inch. It borders on too much, but god it's perfect, it's what he wants, as he feels Shiro's hips flush to his thighs.
Just a moment to try to catch his breath, but his heart is beating too fast for that. Instead he shifts his leg, running it along Shiro's, deliberate until he hooks it over the older man's hip, lips stretching into a grin.] Keep going... I'm ready. Fuck me.
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Warm hands keep him steady and that alone is almost too much. He hisses through his teeth when Keith teases him with one lovely leg runs up against his, a reminder of how much strength is under him. It almost takes his breath away. Keith's dark hair is spilled over the pillow and pupils blown, only a thin ring of violet left. He knows he isn't any better.
Shiro pulls his other leg up, letting Keith do whatever he wants with them as he draws slowly out, burying his face against Keith's neck with a groan. He wants to draw this out. Make this last. But they need this. He presses back in, starting slow to let them both get used to each other and the tempo of their breathing, their everything aligning like two parts of the same song.
Shiro reaches for and catches one of Keith's hands, pressing it to the bed and threading their fingers together. He shifts his other hand to the bed to brace himself with a low growl of Keith's name and he stopped caring who heard them about the time their clothes came off.
He can deal with possible embarrassment later. It's too late for anyone to interrupt and the door is locked. No one would be stupid enough to try with his temper being what it has been.]
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He's never been one for romanticizing; on the contrary, he's more than a little cynical, but somehow this feels like it was meant to be, like all the rough and jagged, wickedly sharp edges he has have somehow found their match in the other man, fitted together like the missing pieces he never realized were missing.
His free hand lifts to tangle into Shiro's hair, at the same time he hooks both his legs around Shiro's hips, the better to move with him, to arch against with each thrust. Keith cries out, wordless, but there's no doubt at all that it's a plea for more. He doesn't care who hears. And his sense of shame is flimsy enough that he'll really only be proud that someone else knows that Shiro is his, that he's Shiro's, because he's certainly already made that promise.]
Takashi... [His name again, as thrilling as it is to use, exhaled like a prayer.] It's good... you feel so good... more... [Well. He's always been a little demanding. No help for it.]
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He wants to brand this moment into him so Keith knows without a doubt he's laid his claim on him. It's ridiculously possessive. He's not usually this needy. Shiro breaks from the kiss to nip his way down his jaw, seeking anything to wring more noise out of him. His hands slide over Keith's chest, and down over his sides to grip his hips.
Where is it? He wants to hear him cry out his name. That tiny voice of reason suggests that is not a good idea and is pretty reckless. He crushes it, shifting the angle, and watching Keith's face.] Keith...
[He brushes Keith's dark hair back away from his face.] Keep telling me...what you want.
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His head falls back to the pillow, neck arching towards that attention, voice catching on soft whimpered sounds that seem to be shaken loose every time the other man moves against him, at least until Shiro shifts his hips, at least until the next thrust of the other inside him brings his length up against that spot inside him. Keith arches, nearly rising off the bed like the artificial gravity has suddenly let go of him alone, and a sob of a sound breaks free.
His hands scramble for purchase, fingers pressing tightly to muscle as he looks up at Shiro, eyes wide, trying desperately to form words.]
Like... like that. Don't stop. Please...
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And like he’d thought before, they needed this. Shiro braces both hands on the bed to steady himself and builds to a fast hard rhythm. Whatever little semblance of control evaporates. The soft litany of growls and gasps cuts off as he focuses entirely on driving them to completion. He wants them both to fall over the edge together and float in a mutual bliss. He leans down to catch his lips with his, licking into his mouth. Each powerful thrust drives him closer and closer to the edge.
He isn’t going to last much longer than Keith will. That’s fine. Neither of them have to feel guilty.]
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He arches against him, rocked hard back into the mattress with each crash of those hips to his ass, his entire body trembling as he can feel the heat building low and tight in the pit of his stomach. Each movement brings Shiro plunging deep inside him, brings his own arousal trapped between both their stomachs. It's too much. He can't last, and he knows it, and he needs it.
His hands reach up, gripping at short, dark hair as much as he can, and he breaks from Shiro's lips to draw in a desperate breath of air, that he exhales in a cry of his name as he finds his release, back arching sharply, legs gripping tightly around him. Keith swears his vision splinters into a million pinpoints of light, like the rest of the world has disappeared entirely, and the only thing that even exists anymore is Shiro, above him, inside him, the warmth building between them.]
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Keith tenses below him, body bent like a bow and his toned thighs gripping him, pulling him in. Then it's like the world shatters and he buries his face against Keith's neck, biting down to silence his own cry. His release hits him like a wave and he wraps his arms around Keith as it tears every thought apart. There's just them.
Keith around him and under him, hands in his hair clenching almost too tightly. Then it ebbs, like the sea drawing back. Shiro sinks down, his cheek against Keith's. He feels exhausted and drunk, with no strength to get up. In a minute he'll have to. They need to clean up before they sleep.
When he remembers how to speak again. He runs his fingers up and down Keith's arm as he finally manages to murmur.]
Keith? Still with me?
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