[ he continues to be rather shy. it’s sweet and adorable, even given the context, but shiro would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to stripping keith of that self-consciousness, to the point that keith freely holds his hands back, widens his legs and bares everything for shiro to gawk at. patience yields focus. perhaps keith was onto something by trying to drill his own mantra into his lizard brained head. for now, shiro is good in that he doesn’t try brushing keith’s hand away. he doesn’t even try to take a peek of keith’s dick. patience yields focus, he tells himself again, smiling up at keith throughout.
but then keith is on the bed and shiro gets a very generous view of keith’s voluptuous backside as he crawls and clambers across the bedding. below those asscheeks and between those thighs, there’s the bob of keith’ cock, and for the briefest of moments, shiro catches an unintentional glimpse. it’s too quick and too partially hidden for him to truly understand it, but something inside him does. all at once, there’s a slight, burgeoning apprehension in the pit of his stomach.
but then keith is rolled over and shiro’s gaze is up where it should be, once again doing the courteous boyfriend thing of not staring at the anatomy that has keith particularly nervous. he understands; afterall, this will be the first time he'll be seeing keith hard. feeling and glimpsing it through his pants isn’t quite the same, so this is a monumental moment and one that shiro is intent on respecting. ]
Oh, will I? [ his grin is good-humored and crooked, flashed over his shoulder. ] I do want you comfortable, so… okay, if that’s what you want.
[ such a big ask, heh. reluctantly separating him from the exploration of keith’s fingertip, shiro stands. he’s already got his fly open by the time he turns around to face the bed. down go the pants and boxer-briefs in one go. if he truly were a patient man, he’d indulge keith in a slower, more deliberate strip. but unfortunately, shiro’s lacking the finesse as he tears his feet free from each pant leg, socks following shortly thereafter. with that, he’s on the bed and crawling, situating himself in close. ]
I’d ask you if you like what you see, but I think it’s pretty obvious…
[ has he been good long enough? patient long enough? can he look now? he touches his hand to keith’s hip and gives an experimental nudge, finding no resistance. encouraged, he leads keith through a roll onto his back. and then he drags his gaze down; down from keith’s face, over his sternum, through the contours of his abdominals and there, to the jut of his pelvis where his cock is…
not normal. familiarly abnormal. ] Oh, fuck. [ it slips out of him on the exhale that seemingly punches out of him. he’d made the comparisons in his head, all the while assuring himself it was nothing more than his desire for keith hijacking the situation and giving too much life to his fantasies. as much as he’d wanted keith, he hadn’t wanted him like that. not actually. but… he did? he has? because there’s too many similarities in his head now: the voice, the shape of his body, the birthmark, the timing of an identical transformation. now he has a dick with multiple ridges that he is silently counting in his head. same number, similar if not the same length, thickness, color…
no subject
but then keith is on the bed and shiro gets a very generous view of keith’s voluptuous backside as he crawls and clambers across the bedding. below those asscheeks and between those thighs, there’s the bob of keith’ cock, and for the briefest of moments, shiro catches an unintentional glimpse. it’s too quick and too partially hidden for him to truly understand it, but something inside him does. all at once, there’s a slight, burgeoning apprehension in the pit of his stomach.
but then keith is rolled over and shiro’s gaze is up where it should be, once again doing the courteous boyfriend thing of not staring at the anatomy that has keith particularly nervous. he understands; afterall, this will be the first time he'll be seeing keith hard. feeling and glimpsing it through his pants isn’t quite the same, so this is a monumental moment and one that shiro is intent on respecting. ]
Oh, will I? [ his grin is good-humored and crooked, flashed over his shoulder. ] I do want you comfortable, so… okay, if that’s what you want.
[ such a big ask, heh. reluctantly separating him from the exploration of keith’s fingertip, shiro stands. he’s already got his fly open by the time he turns around to face the bed. down go the pants and boxer-briefs in one go. if he truly were a patient man, he’d indulge keith in a slower, more deliberate strip. but unfortunately, shiro’s lacking the finesse as he tears his feet free from each pant leg, socks following shortly thereafter. with that, he’s on the bed and crawling, situating himself in close. ]
I’d ask you if you like what you see, but I think it’s pretty obvious…
[ has he been good long enough? patient long enough? can he look now? he touches his hand to keith’s hip and gives an experimental nudge, finding no resistance. encouraged, he leads keith through a roll onto his back. and then he drags his gaze down; down from keith’s face, over his sternum, through the contours of his abdominals and there, to the jut of his pelvis where his cock is…
not normal. familiarly abnormal. ] Oh, fuck. [ it slips out of him on the exhale that seemingly punches out of him. he’d made the comparisons in his head, all the while assuring himself it was nothing more than his desire for keith hijacking the situation and giving too much life to his fantasies. as much as he’d wanted keith, he hadn’t wanted him like that. not actually. but… he did? he has? because there’s too many similarities in his head now: the voice, the shape of his body, the birthmark, the timing of an identical transformation. now he has a dick with multiple ridges that he is silently counting in his head. same number, similar if not the same length, thickness, color…
oh fuck is right. keith frequents gloryholes? ]