“Wait!” Shiro calls before Keith gets too far. “Wait, I’m sorry, it’s okay!”
Keith’s mouth drops open. He blinks and blinks and cannot possibly imagine that Shiro just said what he thinks he said.
“W—what?” Keiths cock is still hard, maybe harder for how Shiro’s eyes are intently on him.
Keith feels his whole body shutter. His hand flexes over the scrap of shirt hiding him. “Um.”
And then Shiro steps closer, settles on the adjacent couch.
“I—“ Keith takes in a breath. It’s impossible what’s happening, and yet he doesn’t want to run from it. Not if Shiro is... “yeah,” he chokes out. “It’s okay.”
Shiro nods and then his eyes drop to where
“Good,” Shiro says. Keith has to shut his eyes then, he can’t bare Shiro’s stare. It’s everything he’s secretly wanted, and yet Keith knows it’s bad. Shiro’s practically his mentor.
Keith’s hand slides down his cock. He doesn’t mean to, but he’s so hard and reality is fusing with all his fantasies and it’s getting difficult to keep track.
“That’s good Keith,” Shiro says.
They hit different now. He swallows hard. His hand starts to move on his own cock, resuming the rhythm.
Keith feels like hes burning up. Even with his eyes closed he can feel Shiro’s gaze. Is he watching Keith? Judging him?
Keith slows his stroke, reclining back on the couch as he was before.
The moan just slips out.
“All the way down,” comes that voice. Keith responds without thinking, stroking his whole length.
He directs Keith to keep it slow, pushing his entire cock slowly through a tight fist. He plays with the cockhead as Shiro tells him to.
It’s Shiro’s voice he follows. The deep, alluring sound of it bleeding
“Now taste,” Shiro says.
It’s so shocking an order that Keith’s eyes fly open. Across from him Shiro is perched, eyes avid and
Keith’s fingers shake as he takes them, messily, to his mouth.
“What does it taste like?”
Keith makes some forlorn noise, the air stuck in his lungs. His cock is a throb and he needs to come, needs Shiro to let him.
“Ah,” Keith says.
Keith nods, helpless.
“Wet those fingers then.”
Keith does so, knowing how Shiro watches him the whole time. When he touches his cock again, slick with saliva, a groan falls out of his lips.
“Feel good?” Shiro watches him stroke himself.
“Good. Now close your eyes, let me—“ Shiro clears his throat then. “Let’s finish.”
It’s easy to follow that direction. There’s something safe about not having sight. Getting to listen to Shiro’s heavy, masculine tones guide him is...
He doesn’t even have words.
Keith does this, feeling the electric thrum of it run through him. Shiro’s breathing sounds heavier and the possibility that he’s getting off on this nearly makes Keith spill.
Shiro’s words drown him. Keith feels like his body is not his own, it’s all just for Shiro. Shiro is pulling the strings.
And the the edge rises before him.
“No that’s good ba—Keith. Keep going. /Yeah/. Looks like it feels good. Let it— a little faster—“
Keith’s gasping as he follows the directions, hand working desperate over his own cock. He’s going to— he’s going to—
It’s amazing. The hottest handjob he’s ever had.
And when he opens his blearily eyes, there’s Shiro looking more than
/fuck. Holy fuck./
Shiro takes a gasping breath and stands, gaze still on Keith and the mess he currently is. “Okay,” shiro says. “I’m gonna— uh. Your shower—“
He’s so wildly out of Keith’s range it’s...
Keith’s head flops back onto the couch. He lets out a bone deep sigh.
But maybe he isn’t. If all signals
Because of Keith.
Keith takes a steadier breath.
Shiro... in his shower. Shiro in his shower getting off to... whatever just happened.
And aroused.
He looks down at the come spilled across his belly. He wonders what would happen if Shiro came out of the shower and caught him again.
He wonders...
/END