[ yeah, he can see what keith means. nothing quite like being coerced into sharing one’s body under threat of never regaining their freedom. shiro’s had his own hurdles to overcome and he’s someone who came into this with a few points of reference. so for this place to be the starting point of a person’s sexual experience… – rough, to say the least. hindsight is amazingly clear and so, sometimes, shiro looks back and he wonders if he should have done this differently from day one. maybe he should have embraced the idea of being there for the keith. maybe they would’ve reached this point sooner. smoother, too.
or maybe not. maybe it would’ve changed everything.
difficult to know for certain, so he tries not to dwell on it too often. the important thing is that they’re here now and, seemingly, back on track. so he smiles, genuine and sweet, fingers quick to curl around keith’s as he’s led. the walk is rather short after that. no more pit-stops, no more delays, they start walking and they don’t waver until shiro’s cube comes into view. even then, their goal is much the same, although shiro’s a touch helpless to the excitement that seems to build with every step thereafter.
thirty yards out and he sidesteps, shortening the space between them so he’s obnoxiously brushing against keith’s shoulder and hip, their linked hands caught in-between. fifteen yards out and he leans over, kissing at keith’s hair and nipping at his ear. five yards and counting, he’s given up watching where he’s walking altogether, full on nuzzling at keith’s hair and cooing noises that are more happy rumblings than actual words.
their anklets ping and the door opens easily, shiro all but pushing keith inside. gently, of course, though clearly eager. but then they’re inside, keith in front and shiro coming in behind him as his backdoor lover…
and there he is. the wolf.
shiro groans, head falling forward to rest his forehead, low and defeated, against keith’s shoulder. he’s still holding the plush in the crook of one arm and whether it’s for comfort or to channel his rising need to throttle something, he squeezes it ever tighter to himself. ]
Handle that. Please.
[ because he’s not fucking keith with an audience, especially one that has commandeered the bed. ]
i wish to adopt all these dogs.
or maybe not. maybe it would’ve changed everything.
difficult to know for certain, so he tries not to dwell on it too often. the important thing is that they’re here now and, seemingly, back on track. so he smiles, genuine and sweet, fingers quick to curl around keith’s as he’s led. the walk is rather short after that. no more pit-stops, no more delays, they start walking and they don’t waver until shiro’s cube comes into view. even then, their goal is much the same, although shiro’s a touch helpless to the excitement that seems to build with every step thereafter.
thirty yards out and he sidesteps, shortening the space between them so he’s obnoxiously brushing against keith’s shoulder and hip, their linked hands caught in-between. fifteen yards out and he leans over, kissing at keith’s hair and nipping at his ear. five yards and counting, he’s given up watching where he’s walking altogether, full on nuzzling at keith’s hair and cooing noises that are more happy rumblings than actual words.
their anklets ping and the door opens easily, shiro all but pushing keith inside. gently, of course, though clearly eager. but then they’re inside, keith in front and shiro coming in behind him as his backdoor lover…
and there he is. the wolf.
shiro groans, head falling forward to rest his forehead, low and defeated, against keith’s shoulder. he’s still holding the plush in the crook of one arm and whether it’s for comfort or to channel his rising need to throttle something, he squeezes it ever tighter to himself. ]
Handle that. Please.
[ because he’s not fucking keith with an audience, especially one that has commandeered the bed. ]