[ shiro hardly feels the twisting of his forelock. his throat is being assaulted. before, he’d been saturating his mouth with spit, with drool, trying to swallow the bit of taste the opening of his throat was being lathered with. it’s a lot, though; things that run together without thought any other time become a task in focus. breathing and swallowing take effort, and mostly, shiro only manages the first with any sort of success. he’s a sopping, wet mess, especially when keith leverages his weight and begins to thrust in earnest. his breath stutters to a stop the first time those ridges dig deep into his throat, garbling in wet, ruined noises until his throat is released. still, he doesn’t draw a breath and so, his body gives into a shallow swallow, lips, tongue and throat working together for one, blissful moment before keith’s pushing his cock right back down. his throat clenches, windpipe blocked and he jerks on the beginnings of a choke. it doesn’t take, not completely, not when keith draws right back out.
shiro rides that edge, overwhelmed and near choking, for a few more thrusts. he’s part drowning in his own spit, but his saving grace is that keith is more overwhelmed than he is. keith calls his name and shiro blearily opens his eyes. the angle does him no favors; he doesn’t get to see the peak wreck keith’s face in the most lovely, addictive of ways. opening his eyes does, however, make him suddenly more aware of how full his mouth and throat are. he chokes on that last one, throat closing around keith’s cockhead and making that last drag all the more tighter. he coughs on a mouthful and then keith is shoving right through that constriction, shooting a load straight down his quivering throat.
shiro thrashes, squirming across the sheets as he tries to survive the magnitude of keith’s orgasm. he does, of course, but only because he stops breathing altogether to gulp and gobble, throat already feeling raw as he swallows whatever is given to him. it feels like an eternity in the moment, but once it’s over, with keith sitting back on his finger and slipping from his mouth, shiro laments how quickly it's ended.
he’s mollified by keith taking his mouth in another way, kissing him deep and filthy, the two of them fighting over keith’s taste. shiro doesn’t have much fight in him, honestly. he’s sluggish in the touch of his tongue, his swallows slower and disjointed as he works on refilling his lungs to normalcy. even that ends too quickly. soon enough, keith is turned away and blanketing his body, telling shiro that he has, more or less, earned his ass.
one, two, three – shiro laughs, the sound so thin and so worn that it comes across more as a heavy huff. technically, didn’t keith say he was going to fuck shiro’s mouth and take his finger until he was hard? somehow, that turned into another orgasm. from a boy who cut off his own orgasm to one eagerly allowing shiro to give him many, keith is turning into quite the greedy boy. to be fair, shiro did say he was going to wring multitudes of orgasms out of him. he wonders how many he actually will by the end of the night.
eager to find out, shiro hums and lifts vaguely shaking hands to frame keith’s ass. ]
You say it as though you aren’t already mine.
[ even though it takes effort to say it, the sentiment itself is effortless. it comes easy and freely, shiro speaking without thought. it’s only after that he thinks, oh, that’s a tease that crosses a line that shiro has decided to draw. they aren’t meant to be each other’s. they have their own realities and their own responsibilities; there are genuine feelings here, he can’t hope to deny that any longer, but they have no room for lasting attachments. so, hoping to cut off any retort, he squeezes keith’s ass cheeks and pulls them apart, putting keith on full display.
he’s supposed to have an aversion to this. ass-eating in itself is, by most people’s standards, a nasty activity. not to shiro, though. shiro clears that opinion without a second thought. it’s the unusualness of keith’s biology that should have him reconsidering. this boy is drenched in fluid. his hole is drizzling, a string of slick connected between his ass cheeks, stretching, stretching until it loses viscosity and breaks. it’s there at his inner thighs too, so much of the excess dripping down to make him sticky. who the hell knows what that even tastes like; shiro certainly doesn’t. but instead of easing into it with a tentative drag of his finger to pop a small amount in his mouth, shiro keeps his hands grasping and lifts his head.
see, there’s an addictive quality to it already and shiro hasn’t even tasted him. it’s there in the inner lining of keith’s hole. rings; there are rings of pink and purple, mesmerizing in their pattern. so yes, shiro’s curiosity blooms and soon, he puts his mouth to keith’s hole, the push of his tongue made easy by the looseness of keith’s rim. and how is that curiosity rewarded? with sweetness. the taste that touches his tongue is sweet; a little earthy, a little floral, a little minerally, there’s a richness to it that is satiating on his palate. he quickly decides that he likes the heaviness of the flavor. so, he greedily licks around and inside keith’s hole, swallowing what he can before pressing his lips flush, creating a seal for him to suck deep and to suck hard. ]
i hate this tag, i want you to know
shiro rides that edge, overwhelmed and near choking, for a few more thrusts. he’s part drowning in his own spit, but his saving grace is that keith is more overwhelmed than he is. keith calls his name and shiro blearily opens his eyes. the angle does him no favors; he doesn’t get to see the peak wreck keith’s face in the most lovely, addictive of ways. opening his eyes does, however, make him suddenly more aware of how full his mouth and throat are. he chokes on that last one, throat closing around keith’s cockhead and making that last drag all the more tighter. he coughs on a mouthful and then keith is shoving right through that constriction, shooting a load straight down his quivering throat.
shiro thrashes, squirming across the sheets as he tries to survive the magnitude of keith’s orgasm. he does, of course, but only because he stops breathing altogether to gulp and gobble, throat already feeling raw as he swallows whatever is given to him. it feels like an eternity in the moment, but once it’s over, with keith sitting back on his finger and slipping from his mouth, shiro laments how quickly it's ended.
he’s mollified by keith taking his mouth in another way, kissing him deep and filthy, the two of them fighting over keith’s taste. shiro doesn’t have much fight in him, honestly. he’s sluggish in the touch of his tongue, his swallows slower and disjointed as he works on refilling his lungs to normalcy. even that ends too quickly. soon enough, keith is turned away and blanketing his body, telling shiro that he has, more or less, earned his ass.
one, two, three – shiro laughs, the sound so thin and so worn that it comes across more as a heavy huff. technically, didn’t keith say he was going to fuck shiro’s mouth and take his finger until he was hard? somehow, that turned into another orgasm. from a boy who cut off his own orgasm to one eagerly allowing shiro to give him many, keith is turning into quite the greedy boy. to be fair, shiro did say he was going to wring multitudes of orgasms out of him. he wonders how many he actually will by the end of the night.
eager to find out, shiro hums and lifts vaguely shaking hands to frame keith’s ass. ]
You say it as though you aren’t already mine.
[ even though it takes effort to say it, the sentiment itself is effortless. it comes easy and freely, shiro speaking without thought. it’s only after that he thinks, oh, that’s a tease that crosses a line that shiro has decided to draw. they aren’t meant to be each other’s. they have their own realities and their own responsibilities; there are genuine feelings here, he can’t hope to deny that any longer, but they have no room for lasting attachments. so, hoping to cut off any retort, he squeezes keith’s ass cheeks and pulls them apart, putting keith on full display.
he’s supposed to have an aversion to this. ass-eating in itself is, by most people’s standards, a nasty activity. not to shiro, though. shiro clears that opinion without a second thought. it’s the unusualness of keith’s biology that should have him reconsidering. this boy is drenched in fluid. his hole is drizzling, a string of slick connected between his ass cheeks, stretching, stretching until it loses viscosity and breaks. it’s there at his inner thighs too, so much of the excess dripping down to make him sticky. who the hell knows what that even tastes like; shiro certainly doesn’t. but instead of easing into it with a tentative drag of his finger to pop a small amount in his mouth, shiro keeps his hands grasping and lifts his head.
see, there’s an addictive quality to it already and shiro hasn’t even tasted him. it’s there in the inner lining of keith’s hole. rings; there are rings of pink and purple, mesmerizing in their pattern. so yes, shiro’s curiosity blooms and soon, he puts his mouth to keith’s hole, the push of his tongue made easy by the looseness of keith’s rim. and how is that curiosity rewarded? with sweetness. the taste that touches his tongue is sweet; a little earthy, a little floral, a little minerally, there’s a richness to it that is satiating on his palate. he quickly decides that he likes the heaviness of the flavor. so, he greedily licks around and inside keith’s hole, swallowing what he can before pressing his lips flush, creating a seal for him to suck deep and to suck hard. ]