Thread by @An_Aphorism

#prekerb sheith, gloryhole, anon, blowjob

The bathroom is infamous. Shiro would never be caught dead in there.

Except... the boiler pressure of the approaching Kerberos mission has finally gotten to him. His and Adams relationship was the first casualty,

and he needs /something/, anything to get him through the rest.

Shiro needs to feel good in his body, not like it’s a ticking time bomb.

So here he is, for the third time. The infamous bathroom. It’s late, but he’s tried different times all week to try and catch

someone in here. That’s what they don’t mention about anon rendezvous, how hard it is to get the timing right.

Shiro walks into a stall and locks it. He tries not to think about what he’s doing. Tries not to look at the hole in the wall.

And then, miraculously, a slender finger is curling through the hole, beckoning.

There are a thousand reasons Shiro shouldn’t, but he’s so sick of being responsible & good all the time.For once he just wants to get off.

He unzips and feeds his hardening cock through the hole.

There’s a moment then of fear, that he’s doing something so out of control, so dangerous and—

Then a hot, slick mouth slides over the head of his cock. Shiro’s head bows against the wall.

The person hums and suckles at the tip, urging him quickly to fullness. Fuck.

Adam wasn’t one for blowjobs, so it’s been... a long time. Too long. Shiro never wanted to bring up how much he likes them.

The mouth on him slides all the way down, taking him in. Shiro gasps at the easy skill, at the teasing tongue. It feels /amazing/, he’s not going to last.

Shiro grunts through it, trying not to moan, while that dexterous mouth licks and sucks at him. It’s filthy what he’s doing, anyone could be on the other side, but that turns him on. He /throbs/ at the way the other man works him over.

Because it is a man, the deepness in his voice when he hums tells Shiro that much.

And he sounds like he’s enjoying himself. Shiro bites into his fist, hips almost fucking into the hole as he gets closer to his edge. It’s good, so good, and it’s been so long— fuck—

Shiro doesn’t know the rules, but anonymity is key so he doesn’t speak, but the skillful mouth on him is going to have him coming soon and Shiro should warn or— something—

It’s hard to think, harder when the man takes him /deep/, so deep. A tight pressure around

the head of Shiro’s cock has his mind spinning away, his cock throbbing because he’s deepthroating Shiro. Deepthroating. Fucking impossible and sublime, and Shiro moans, helpless, and comes.

The other man swallows every filthy drop like it’s a delicious meal.

When Shiro pulls back through the wall, he zips up and then let’s himself out of the stall. He stumbles back to his apartment in a daze and falls into bed.

He knows it won’t be just that once.

Shiro holds out for a week, but at the same time the following week he finds himself back in that bathroom.

He can’t help himself, every time he closes his eyes there’s that wicked mouth, taking him impossibly deep, swallowing and swallowing—

There’s a low, amused hum

when Shiro puts his cock in the hole, as if to say ‘you’re back?’.

Shiro shamelessly groans when lips kiss the already wet tip.

This time, however, is a little different.

The man, now that he’s got Shiro hooked, takes advantage of that. He takes Shiro in hand, and strokes far too light and too soft. He kisses and suckles at the tip of him, but not enough to satisfy.

Just enough to tease.

Where the first time Shiro came quick,

this one is slow and methodical. The man mouths at his cock, playing with the foreskin, fingers reaching under the play with his balls.

It’s... fucking amazing. Shiro squirms and jerks and whines for it, but the man just keeps teasing.

A few times his mouth sinks

down on Shiro like he’s going to finally, /finally/, start, and Shiro thrusts needfully forward, but—

Then he stops. Shiro can practically feel his smug amusement as Shiro groans and knocks his fist against the wall. His cock is throbbing and he’s sure, cherry red.

It goes on so long that Shiro loses track. He loses track of everything, closing his eyes and giving himself over to those sweet lips and trickster fingers.

He wants to demand, to beg, to fist his hand in dark hair and /thrust/—

But he can’t. He can’t do anything

except hope this fiend will take mercy on him.

And then, he does.

It’s a change that happens in a second. One moment the man is tonguing his slit and the next he’s swallowing and swallowing and /swallowing/.

Shiro cuts off a curse, banging his fist instead,

but the mouth keeps going and then his cock is back in that throat like he’s been getting off to all week and—

The arousal rises sharp, the suck hot and perfect, and he’s going to— going—

The man swallows, and Shiro can’t hold back. He shoves forward what little he can

and starts to come down the man throat. The feeling is /amazing/ and the thought is almost better. He comes and comes, longer for all the build up, but the other man takes it all.

He’s a fucking marvel.

Shiro’s cock stays in his mouth this time until it goes soft and

sensitive, and Shiro mourns having to pull back.

Then there’s two fingers holding something through. A bit of paper.

“Same time next week?” It reads.

After that it gets bad. It’s once a week, then twice. Then every other day. The man always sucks Shiro dry, & even when Shiro tries to offer a switch, the man grunts &those slender fingers wave him off.

But it is fucking hot how much the man seems to enjoy it, how he moans

around what surly must be a mouthful.

Shiro’s more then a little obsessed, and he’s starting to want more.

Like now, as Shiro is fucking his load down the man’s throat, he wants nothing more than to run hands through his hair, to be able to

look down & see him gagging on Shiro’s cock. Shiro has no idea what the man looks like, but from the slender fingers his mindseye has drawn up quite the beauty.

Sharp features, a full and wicked mouth. Maybe a cadet, eager to fall to his knees for Shiro—

A dangerous thought.

Shiro circles it though. They communicate with paper notes, and Shiro always arrives as a specific time, but surely if he wanted to know who the man was, it wouldn’t be hard.

Shiro could just come early and wait to see who entered the bathroom.

He shouldn’t.

But then he’s back in that bathroom letting the man coax him to a leisurely orgasm in the back of his throat and...

Shiro knows he can’t give this up. He can’t keep doing this just hoping the man comes back day after day. He needs to know who it is that’s given

him the best orgasms of his /life/.

So the next time, Shiro arrives two hours early and accesses a storage closet down the hall from that bathroom. He leaves the door open a sliver, just enough to peer out should he hear footsteps.

What he doesn’t expect, is to hear a familiar quick gait an hour later, stalking down the hallway toward the bathroom.

Something twists in Shiros chest, and he leans to look quickly through the crack, sure his mind is playing tricks on him.

But sure enough, just before disappearing into the bathroom, Shiro sees the unmistakable dark hair and sharp profile of Keith, Shiro’s too-young and fiery-willed protege.

Holy
Fuck.

Shiro has an hour to panic, so he does. He paces the space in denial and self flagellation. How can it be Keith??
Keith?!

He’s fucked, he’s so fucked. Because he can’t let this go on. He can’t go in there and— knowing it’s Keith—

Keith with his dark hair & challenging eyes. He is a sharp beauty, his mindseye was right about that.

His mindseye replaces all those fantasies with Keith, on his knees, lips reddened & wet—

NO. No, no, no. This is so wrong, so bad. Keith is his...

Responsibility, maybe. At the very least Shiro is a mentor figure.

But even that is like a firebomb in his veins. It’s not right, but Shiro didn’t come to this bathroom for /right/, he came to relieve his stress.

And fuck, if Keith hasn’t been doing that.

(TW:: Adding in here a warning for light dubcon or morally gray content. Will be a happy ending, but Shiro will be a disaster first.)

By the end of the hour Shiro’s crisis is no closer to resolution, but he can’t keep hiding in the closet. Does he go to the bathroom? Explain himself?

Maybe he could leave and pretend this never happened. But... what would Keith think? That he was abandoned?

And then what, Keith would just... move on?

That thought gets a hook in Shiro. Does Keith still see other men? If Shiro stopped taking up all his time would it just be someone else? There’s hot acid on Shiro’s tongue and he swallows hard.

That’s unacceptable.

Shiro probably doesn’t have the right to be fretting about Keiths honor, but he can’t help himself. Keith is so good, so wonderful, and it spurns Shiro to action, thinking of anyone else going into that bathroom.

Shiro shouldn’t touch him, but neither should anyone else.

Exactly on time, Shiro enters the bathroom.

His heart is pounding, but he’s half hard in his pants. It’s practically Pavlovian at this point. He walks into the stall and locks it.

He has no idea what to do.

And then those fingers, Keith’s fingers, are curling through the hole. They’re so obviously Keith’s. How did Shiro not know? How did he not even guess?!

But Shiro must waffle too long, because then it’s a hand catching a bit of fabric and pulling him forward.

Shiro doesn’t do it, but he doesn’t stop it. Keith unzips him and pulls his cock out.

Shiro’s so fucking hard, and he feels his cock pulse when Keith wraps his hand around it. He can’t do this. He can’t— he—

He steps forward when the hand guides him back through the hole.

The groan is of pleasure and agony when Keith’s lips slide over him. He’s already leaking and Keith laps it up. It’s almost too much to know it.

He’s come down Keith’s throat, and Keith /liked/ it.

“Wait,” his voice is ruined, but it doesn’t matter. He has to speak,

he can’t do this. He has to better. He has to tell Keith.

“Wait,” he wonders if his voice has already given him up. “Keith,” he says, and makes it undeniable.

The mouth on his cock slides off. Shiro doesn’t even breathe.

“I— I didn’t know. That it was you. I’m— so fucking sorry—“

There’s a sound and the other bathroom door bangs open. Shiro’s heart drops to his feet. That’s it, he’s ruined what they had, hurt Keith in a way no one ever should.

He does up his pants and unlatches the lock.

But before he can open the door, it’s torn open. Standing there is Keith, a dark /something/ on his face.

And then he’s stalking into the stall and Shiro is sure he’s about to get a fist to the face.

Not that he wouldn’t deserve it.

What he does not expect, however, is the way Keith shoves him against the wall & falls to his knees.

“Keith—! What!”

Violet eyes meet his, while those clever fingers undo his pants once again. “Did you really think I had no idea it was you?” Keith says with a wicked grin.

All words & most thought leave Shiro entirely. He must look a sight then because Keith grins wider.

His hand slides up Shiros length that’s still wet from being in Keith’s mouth.

“Shiro,” Keith says, starting a dizzying, slow caress, “you smell like you.”

“You smell just as you do on the mat.”

Shiro just gapes, unable to focus on anything but the blistering sight of Keith on his knees, stroking him.

“But you taste,” Keith says as he leans in, lips just touching Shiro’s shiny cockhead, “so much better.”

And then Shiro is seeing it, not imaging it. Keith swallows him down, all the way, and into his throat.

Shiro makes a pathetic sound, his hands moving into that soft, dark hair. His cock is.. /fuck/. Keith’s lips are stretched wide around him, and he’s looking

up at Shiro as if for praise.

Fucking stars. He feels dangerously close to the edge and he wants it. Wants to watch Keith swallow his come and—

NO. Wait. He can’t. He can’t. This is wrong, it’s still wrong even if Keith knows. “Keith,” he says.

Keith hums around him and Shiro swears, pulls his hair to try and pull him off. “No, no we can’t. This is— fucking hell—!”

Because Keith moves just a little, just enough to get sweet friction. Shiro tightens his hand and tugs to stop it.

Keith /moans/.

“Jesus, you can’t let me... this is wrong, I’m your— ah— mentor.”

That finally gets Keith to pull back, Shiro’s cock getting a slow, mesmerizing slide out from that beautiful mouth.

Keith’s voice is throaty. “So you can teach me, but I can’t give back?”

“Uh...” it’s hard to think looking down at him. Hard to think with how Shiro’s cock is /throbbing/ with the desire just to pull Keith back in and fuck his mouth proper.

“I’ve been making my own decisions for years Shiro, I knew what I was doing coming here,

“and I knew what it would mean when you showed up. If you want me to stop, I’ll stop. You can leave and we’ll forget this whole thing happened.”

That sounds like the right thing to do, but, “will you keep coming here?” Shiro asks.

“Maybe.”

Shiro growls, and his hand tightens

in Keith’s hair before he’s even thought about it.

“Unless...?”

Keith’s got a fire in his eyes, and Shiro’s good enough at strategy to know when he’s been out maneuvered. Keith’s never sold himself as anything other than trouble.

And even when he should, when

its the responsible thing to do, Shiro finds he can’t give him up. Doesn’t want to. The very suggestion of anyone else seeing Keith like this is abhorrent.

Fist still in Keith’s hair, Shiro draws the man back to his cock, never breaking eye contact. “Unless,” he says.

Keith’s all too eager to let Shiro’s cock back into his mouth, but now with his head in the game, Shiro’s determined to take this spitfire in hand.

This time when Keith deepthroats him, Shiro’s hand on his head pushes him to hold. To stay deep. Keith’s moans.

He does this over and over again, testing Keiths limits, meeting his challenging eyes as he fucks into his mouth. It’s wrong but it feels fucking amazing, a power high Shiro has been missing.

And Keith, from the tent in his pants to the obscene sounds he’s making, loves it.

It’s not long then before Shiro is fucking his mouth in earnest, slopping saliva and precome down Keith’s face. Keith’s teary and red, and Shiro can’t look away.

“Always wondered why you didn’t want me to reciprocate,” shiro grits, trying to hold off a few more seconds,

“But now I see it’s because sucking cock gets you off, doesnt it? Do you just come in your pants when a man spills a load down your throat?”

Keith makes a choked sound. Shiro thrusts in, his peak so, so close.

“Fuck, fucking take it and come for me. Just from this.”

And then Shiro’s moaning and keeping his cock deep and coming. He throbs pulses of heavy pleasure and Keith groans and whines and swallows.

When Shiro finishes and pulls back, there’s still come on Keiths tongue, and his mouth is red and swollen. Keith’s pants have a wet spot.

“I do get off on it,” Keith says, throat ruined. He holds a hand up to Shiro who immediately helps him up onto his feet. “Wanna see what else gets me off?”

Shiro nods dumbly, caught by those obscene lips. He barely has time to get pants zipped before Keith is tugging him out of

the bathroom.

In the end, Shiro’s stress is very, very much relieved.

/END