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#nsfw #prekerb #sheith (underage ish, voyeurism, voice kink ?)

Shiro walking in on pre-kerb Keith jerking off. It’s a complete accident and both of them stand there shocked for a moment.

Keith watches Shiro’s eyes dip down his body and then back up. They both blush hard.
Keith fumbles for his clothing, he knew he shouldn’t have been doing something like that in the living area. He’d just assumed Shiro wasn’t coming by until later.

“Wait!” Shiro calls before Keith gets too far. “Wait, I’m sorry, it’s okay!”
It’s awkward, but Shiro’s tone is calm, and a little strict as he gets Keith to settle. Keith’s modesty is barely covered and he can’t stop seeing how Shiro’s eyes are stuck on him. It can’t mean what he wants it to mean. It can’t—
“Why don’t you keep going?” Shiro says.

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.
Shiro clears his throat and his voice is deeper. “You could keep going. I wouldn’t want you to... be uncomfortable.”

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.
“Is that okay?” His voice is firm but careful. It does something to Keith.

“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
Keith is covered. Feeling bold, Keith moves the fabric.

“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.
Shiro is recently single and so grown up and—

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.
It takes Keith back to every test and simulator where he flew and smashed records and Shiro put his hand on his shoulder and said those same words.

They hit different now. He swallows hard. His hand starts to move on his own cock, resuming the rhythm.
There’s a moment of tension and then, “Slower,” comes Shiro’s husky voice.

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.
“Good,” Shiro says. And Keith rewrites it in his head. Shiro is guiding him, just as he’s done in every other task.

The moan just slips out.

“All the way down,” comes that voice. Keith responds without thinking, stroking his whole length.
It goes on that way. Keith’s legs spread obscenely on the couch as he touches himself. Across on the other couch Shiro watches.

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.
He does it all with his eyes closed, his face burning and body quivering with the sheer idea of it. Every moment feels like he’s edging himself, so terribly and wonderfully close to the edge.

It’s Shiro’s voice he follows. The deep, alluring sound of it bleeding
into the back of his mind and staining him for all time. His cock is a dripping mess as he massages the head with Shiro’s diligent instructions.

“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
watchful. He looks hungry.

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.
Shiro hums. “You want to come?”

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.
“Yeah.”

“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.
“Start slow, stroke up and tighten around the head.”

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.
“Hold at the head. Yeah, fuck it through nice and slow. Tighten your fingers, make it a tight— yeah.”

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.
Keith babbles to try and warn Shiro.

“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—
Shiro swears and then that’s it for Keith. He moans loudly and comes all over his naked belly, stroking himself fast and tight to the idea of Shiro watching.

It’s amazing. The hottest handjob he’s ever had.

And when he opens his blearily eyes, there’s Shiro looking more than
a little hot under the collar. Keith’s eyes drop and there’s a bulge in Shiro’s jeans.

/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—“
There’s no room to make a suggestion, and even if there was Keith wouldn’t know where to start. It’s /Shiro/.

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
can be trusted, the sound of the shower in his bedroom turning on means Shiro is about to jerk off in there.

Because of Keith.

Keith takes a steadier breath.

Shiro... in his shower. Shiro in his shower getting off to... whatever just happened.
He should feel guilty and bad and wrong, but instead keith just feels giddy.

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
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