[ is that how it works? three magic words, acting as an initiation into old-timerhood? it’s silly and hilarious, so unbelievably corny that shiro almost believes this whole thing is a dream conjured up in his head. can’t be, of course, because the touch of lips is too electric for him to replicate. so is the weight that settles into his lap. keith’s all sweet and unhurried at his mouth, which is, frankly, at odds with the thighs that straddle him to bed knees past his hips. it’s agonizing, yet invigorating. tempered, yet teasing. he wants in an instant, but he reminds himself not to give in to the greed of his desire.
patience yields focus, yeah? there will be no rush to pull up shirts or undo zippers, neither will he force the lingering pressure of keith’s lips off as he tries for something deeper. not yet. they can indulge in the slow, carefulness of every moment, cataloging each in what is certain to be a memorable night. he will, however, start by touching his palms to keith’s waist, smoothing down to grasp him gently at the hips. then not so gently. he tightens to feel the fit and frame of him under fabric, thinking that he’s got such a gorgeous shape. an unbelievable shape, actually. he’s got a trim waistline and these lovely, yet narrow hips, and somehow, still has a round, firm, meaty backside. it’s weighty on his thighs and suddenly, shiro would like to know it better.
patience yields focus. right, patience. he’s supposed to be patient in this slow seduction. he knows it, he wants it that way, too, but his hands pull anyway, dragging keith by the hips the few inches left to get them crotch to crotch, that ass so close, but not there that it’s a touch maddening. he sucks at keith’s bottom lip and gives it a parting nip to make up for it, his mouth straying but not leaving as he kisses down to his jawline. ]
How you doin’?
[ a little slurred due to the muffling of his still busy mouth, shiro noses underneath the sharp angle of keith’s jaw and further still, to lick and nip at his neck. at least this is familiar. they’ve heavy petted and kissed just as heavy, leaving the occasional hickey. keith’s nervous, though. they both are. but shiro is quickly gaining ground in his confidence, losing himself as he ducks lower and starts sucking at his throat, a few inches higher than the set of his collarbone. the slide of his hand can’t be corralled either; left goes back and cups a cheek, shiro already delighted by how it fits in his hand when he squeezes. ]
true. they cant fight either with bitchface yowling
patience yields focus, yeah? there will be no rush to pull up shirts or undo zippers, neither will he force the lingering pressure of keith’s lips off as he tries for something deeper. not yet. they can indulge in the slow, carefulness of every moment, cataloging each in what is certain to be a memorable night. he will, however, start by touching his palms to keith’s waist, smoothing down to grasp him gently at the hips. then not so gently. he tightens to feel the fit and frame of him under fabric, thinking that he’s got such a gorgeous shape. an unbelievable shape, actually. he’s got a trim waistline and these lovely, yet narrow hips, and somehow, still has a round, firm, meaty backside. it’s weighty on his thighs and suddenly, shiro would like to know it better.
patience yields focus. right, patience. he’s supposed to be patient in this slow seduction. he knows it, he wants it that way, too, but his hands pull anyway, dragging keith by the hips the few inches left to get them crotch to crotch, that ass so close, but not there that it’s a touch maddening. he sucks at keith’s bottom lip and gives it a parting nip to make up for it, his mouth straying but not leaving as he kisses down to his jawline. ]
How you doin’?
[ a little slurred due to the muffling of his still busy mouth, shiro noses underneath the sharp angle of keith’s jaw and further still, to lick and nip at his neck. at least this is familiar. they’ve heavy petted and kissed just as heavy, leaving the occasional hickey. keith’s nervous, though. they both are. but shiro is quickly gaining ground in his confidence, losing himself as he ducks lower and starts sucking at his throat, a few inches higher than the set of his collarbone. the slide of his hand can’t be corralled either; left goes back and cups a cheek, shiro already delighted by how it fits in his hand when he squeezes. ]