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Keith lies sprawled out on his bed, his textbooks taunting him over from his desk and his TV running some program about competitive cat shows. His phone vibrates in its place, lying face down on his chest, and Keith releases a sigh through his nose as he lifts it up to reply, barely giving the message a second glance before plopping it right back down.

 

He didn’t need to read it to know Alex was just giving him yet another uncreative “mmf” or whatever to work with in his pathetic excuse of sexting skills. Keith used to get off to their conversations, used to think his classmate-slash-fuckbuddy was incredibly sexy, but nowadays he’s just bored. There’s only so many times he can wax poetic about Alex cumming on his face before it gets old. Apparently it never gets old for Alex. Sometimes it feels like that’s all he wants to do with his free time.  

 

Keith’s phone pings again. He doesn’t even look, thumbs flying across the screen as he trusts auto-correct to handle the rest.

 

[Keith]

> after that i’ll suck your soft dick into my mouth and just keep it there as it gets hard

 

But then something weird happens. Almost as soon as Keith hits send, his phone alerts him to another text from Alex. Keith’s brow furrows. Why would it alert him if he already had their chat window open…?

 

He scrolls up, and oh no.

 

Oh no.

 

His TA from one of his old classes, Shiro, had chosen now, of all times, to send Keith a funny cat video.

 

And Keith had responded by talking about sucking on his cock.

 

All color drained from his face, Keith shoots up in a panic, scrambling to find a way to save face. His fingers shake as he types, heart beating into overdrive.

 

[Keith]

> oh shit bro wrong chat bro

 

He hopes Shiro can’t sense the panic behind the nonchalant text, despite the fact that Keith has never called anyone “bro” in his entire life. Even if Shiro may have been happy to be considered a brother figure to Keith.

 

Keith’s always been a bit of a problem child. Father deceased, mother never in the picture, he grew up from home to home until he eventually aged out of the system and started college. Shiro was a TA for one of his classes. Keith stole his car almost immediately after meeting him.

 

Despite that, Shiro never gave up on him, and told him as much. For Keith, he couldn’t put it into words how much that meant to him. He started attending tutoring and passed the class with flying colors, and even after that Shiro kept in touch, inviting him out to lunch or even just sending the random meme. It was only obvious Keith would develop a crush on him.

 

And now he sent him a sext.

 

Of which Shiro still hasn’t responded to.

 

Okay well cool, Keith likes this school well enough but it’s about time he packs and leaves to go be a hermit somewhere and never experience human interaction ever again.

 

Just as Keith is mulling over his life choices, his phone pings.

 

He takes a breath.

 

[Shiro]

> All good bro.

 

Keith releases it. Oh thank god. Sure, Shiro was probably teasing him with the “bro” thing but as long as this doesn’t totally ruin their friendship, Keith is content.

 

Then his phone alerts again.

 

[Shiro]

> Go on.

 

What.

 

[Keith]

> what

 

Keith stares at the screen, unable to discern what Shiro means no matter how many times he rereads. Go on… with what? Did he want to go back to their conversation before the mix up? Was Keith supposed to watch the stupid cat video now? He’s really not in the mood, but if it’ll help them forget this ever happened…

 

[Shiro]

> You were telling me what you’d do to my cock as it gets hard in your mouth.

 

Keith drops his phone.

 

Shiro’s message stares back up at him tauntingly.

 

This is… Shiro’s joking, right? He’s joking. Keith’s already established that he did not in fact mean to talk about sucking Shiro’s dick specifically and so now Shiro’s giving him a good natured tease over his mistake. Yeah.

 

Well, fine. Keith can tease right back. In fact, he’s going to own it. He won’t let Shiro embarrass him so easily.

 

Conversation with Alex completely forgotten by now, Keith focuses all his attention on this new development.

 

[Keith]

> who says i’m doing anything? i’m just keeping your cock warm. if you want something you need to do it yourself.

 

There. That’s… that’s in character for Keith. That can definitely be written off as a joke. Now the ball is in Shiro’s court.

 

Ugh, but now he’s really thinking about having Shiro’s dick in his mouth. Keith just knows it’s gotta be thick, balls heavy and smelling strongly of that certain kind of masculine musk that always makes Keith’s knees go weak.

 

He’d fucking choke on it and die happy.

 

[Shiro]

> Brat.

 

Just the one word sends a shock of arousal up Keith’s spine.

 

[Shiro]

> You saying you’d let me pull your hair and fuck your mouth?

 

Okay woah.

 

Woooaahh.

 

Is he—

 

Is he being for real?

 

Because—

 

Because Keith is running out of ways to explain this away in his head.

 

Like is this just a game of Extreme Sext Chicken or—

 

He texts back.

 

[Keith]

> never said that

> but now i’m curious

> never thought you’d be the type to be rough

 

It’s true. While Shiro is indeed the subject of many a Muscle Daddy fantasies, the man in question is more like a gentle giant with adorable puppy eyes. Grey eyes that Keith wouldn’t mind seeing go dark with arousal as he yanks on Keith’s hair, bobbing his head up and down forcefully—

 

[Shiro]

> Ha. You got me. No, I wouldn’t do that to you.

 

Oh.

 

“Oh,” says Keith, heart sinking.

 

[Keith]

> oh

 

[Shiro]

> My cock is way too big to force that on you without any practice first.

 


OH. 

 

 

[Shiro]

> Besides, I know that’s not what you really want.

 

Keith almost laughs. “Try me,” he murmurs to his screen, thumbs typing away. In what universe would he NOT want that?

 

[Keith]

> and what makes you so sure you know what i really want?

 

[Shiro]

> You’re a brat and act prickly, but you really just want to be treated gently. You want to be praised, Keith.

 

Unbidden, Keith feels a deep flush spread across his face, words trapped in his throat. It’s suddenly too hot in here.

 

Shifting in his seat on the bed, Keith adjusts the buttons of his shirt… and the slight chub he’s sporting between his legs.

 

[Keith]

> what, you’re gonna call me a good boy?

 

[Shiro]

> I’ll call you a good boy when you’re being a good boy, brat.

 

Keith drops his phone again, this time to cover his face with his hands.

 

Shiiiiiiit.

 

Shit shit shit.

 

What the fuck is even happening anymore.

 

[Shiro]

> Do you want to be good for me, Keith?

 

Keith can’t even bring himself to look at the keyboard letters as he responds.

 

[Keith]

> yes

 

[Shiro]

> Then tell me what you were going to do with my cock as it gets hard in your mouth.

 

Keith swallows thickly. This is far past testing the waters; it’s time to take a breath and dive.

 

He’s already in too deep.

 

[Keith]

> keep you inside as long as i can until you’re too big to fit anymore. i’d choke on you if you let me.

 

[Shiro]

> I’d love that. You’d do anything to be praised, wouldn’t you?

 

[Keith]

> not by anyone

> just you

 

[Shiro]

> I know, baby.

 

Keith’s heart skips a beat as he reads.

 

[Shiro]

> You think I never noticed how red your face got whenever I told you you did a good job on a test? When you solved that problem faster than anyone else I’d ever seen?

 

Oh god. Was he really that obvious?

 

Keith almost wants to bury himself under the covers and never see the light of day again. But more than that—so much more—he wants to keep this going. Wants to see where it leads.

 

[Keith]

> shiro

> shiro im hard

> like for real

 

Shiro doesn’t answer immediately. Keith takes the time to slip his hand underneath the waistband of his jeans, just to slide some pressure over the bulge, alleviate some of that need. His hips automatically hitch into his touch.

 

[Shiro]

> Well I’d sure hope you’d be hard, after all this.

> I’ve been hard ever since that first text you sent, accident or no.

 

[Keith]

> fuck i’m sorry about that

 

[Shiro]

> Don’t be.

> I’ve wanted this, you know.

> Wanted you.

 

Keith hastily unbuttons his jeans with one hand, reaching in.

 

[Keith]

> oh god me too shiro

> i didn’t think you’d feel the same

 

[Shiro]

> Is that why you were apparently sexting someone else? When you sent it to me?

 

Was he? Who—

 

Oh. Alex.

 

Fuck, Keith had completely forgotten about him.

 

A quick glance through his messages shows that either Alex gave up on waiting for a response or finished himself off and fell asleep, and Keith is just fine with that.

 

[Keith]

> yeah but it was just some guy i know

> no one important

 

[Shiro]

> Good. I’d almost feel bad for stealing your attention away from him… but I don’t.

> You said you were hard. Show me…?

 

Keith practically flails about the bed as he scrambles to get his jeans off, finally kicking them clear across the room and leaving him in his red shirt and grey boxer-briefs. There’s a dark patch of wet at the front of his underwear, the shape of him easy to make out. It visibly twitches underneath the fabric as he opens his camera app and snaps a picture.

 

I did as you asked, Keith thinks to himself as he sends it off. I did it right, right? Please say I did good. Call me good. Call me a good—

 

[Shiro]

> Fuck, Keith. Look at you.

 

Keith audibly whines in the back of his throat, hips flexing upward with nothing to grind against. He wants…

 

[Keith]

> i wanna see you too

 

It takes a lot of courage for him to send it, but he does. As he waits for Shiro to read and respond, Keith rubs his hand over his bulge idly, teasing.

 

He expects Shiro to send back a similar picture, his arousal hidden tantalizingly beneath a layer of underwear, left for Keith to gauge his size and thickness. Keith rather likes that kind of picture. There’s something inherently erotic about straining against confines, throbbing visibly, a present waiting to be unwrapped.

 

Shiro does not send him that kind of picture.

 

Keith opens the thumbnail to see his crush’s erect cock out on full display, his fist wrapped around the base and head flaring red. Immediately Keith knows he’s thicker and longer than anyone he’s ever seen, and it sends his heart into overdrive. Of-fucking-course Shiro has the dick of a porn star. Keith wants to bury his face in the dark thatch of hair at the base and inhale that musk.

 

[Shiro]

> All for you.

 

[Keith]

> i want it

 

[Shiro]

> I know, baby, I know.

> Know what I want?

 

[Keith]

> what

 

[Shiro]

> Show me your hole.

 

At first Keith tries keeping his boxer-briefs on for the picture, tugging it out of the way just enough to show his ass, but it doesn’t quite go the way he wants, so Keith wriggles out of his underwear altogether. He splays his legs out lewdly and spreads a cheek out with one hand while the other takes the picture.

 

[Shiro]

> Do you have any idea of the things I want to do to that ass?

 

[Keith]

> no

> tell me

 

[Shiro]

> I want to spread you open with my thumbs and lick into you.

> Open you up nice and sweet.

> Keith, I could spend hours with my mouth down there. I know you’d taste so good.

 

A small whimper escapes from between Keith’s fingers as he reads Shiro’s texts with a hand over his mouth. He breathes hotly, licks said fingers, and reaches down to pull at his cock.

 

He had no idea Shiro felt this way…

 

[Keith]

> never been eaten out before

 

[Shiro]

> Shit. Keith. I’m going to think about that every time I jerk off from now until the moment I finally get my tongue in you.

 

[Keith]

> how long will that be

 

[Shiro]

> Not long at all if I can help it.

 

[Keith]

> tonight. now.

> now, shiro, please

 

[Shiro]

> Patience, baby.

 

[Keith]

> please

> i’ve wanted this for so long

 

[Shiro]

> I know, Keith. Me too.

> But let me make you cum first.

> Let me make you cum from this and then I’ll come to you.

> Can you do that for me?

 

[Keith]

> yes

 

[Shiro]

> Good boy.

 

Fuuuuuuck, there it is. There it is. Keith tosses his head back and moans quietly, his hand automatically speeding up on his cock. He can do this. He can cum as fast as he can so he can get Shiro to hurry up and meet up with him and—

 

And—

 

[Keith]

> make me cum then

 

[Shiro]

> I’m doing everything I can to get ready to leave while keeping my cock out. I’m thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you tonight. I’m thinking about the fact that you’re still on your bed, touching yourself to me.

> I’m going to ruin you, Keith.

> Going to eat you out until my jaw is numb. Until you cum from my tongue alone.

> Then I’m gonna prep you gently, massage your prostate until you cum again.

 

“Shiro—,”

 

His fist flies over his cock, gasping through red-bitten lips.

 

[Shiro]

> Gonna sink inside of you slowly. Just hold you there, making you feel the weight of my cock. My entire body will cover yours.

> I’m going to start off slow. Make you get used to me. Maybe tease. Make you beg for faster. Harder. See what other kinds of names I can get you to call me.

 

Keith can barely breathe—

 

[Shiro]

> Force another orgasm out of you. I’m very good at that, Keith. I can make you give me as many as I want.

> Only then will I speed up. Get on your hands and knees. Fuck you like a bitch. Watch that ass bounce and swallow my cock.

 

He’s twitching. His hips lift up. He’s—

 

[Shiro]

> And trust me baby you’re going to feel it when I come inside you, paint your insides white, mark you, fuck my cum in deeper

> won’t even stop after that

> wanted to fuck you so hard for so long now of course i won’t stop after one

> keith

> keith im c

 

“Shiro,” Keith whispers, and cums.

 

Ropes of sticky white shoot out and land on his chest, once, twice, again, and Keith keeps milking himself until he can only manage a dribble sliding out from his slit, but still he keeps going. His whole body jerks with the feeling of it, an electric shock. His ass throbs with emptiness. His brain swims in feel-good chemicals.

 

He breathes out, and falls back into his bed like jelly.

 

For a moment Keith almost wants to fall asleep, until his phone pings once again with an alarm.

 

[Shiro]

> Keith.

 

In lieu of texting back, Keith, bleary in post-orgasm tingles, lazily takes a picture of the mess he’s just made. White dots scattered over his abs, softening cock lying by the v of his hip, and legs spread out relaxed.

 

It doesn’t take long for Shiro to reply. Keith reads his message with a slow grin spreading across his face.

 

[Shiro]

> I’m on my way.

 

Chapter Text

It's been fifteen minutes since that text.

 

At first Keith wanted to just lie there and wait, practically purring and orgasm-stupid, but then he remembers that he should probably clean up the luke-warm cum on his stomach that’s quickly turning cold and gross. Then he also glances around his room and realizes that he's got some shit to shove underneath his bed if he doesn't want Shiro’s boner to instantly die upon seeing the garbage dump that passes as Keith’s matchbox apartment. He gets up, puts his pants back on, and scrambles to clean himself and whatever else he can, mostly throwing trash in the wastebasket and kicking clothes and shoes into his closet. While he's up he turns off the TV and unlocks the door for good measure. He finds a bottle of lube in the bathroom and strategically places it in his nightstand drawer like it had always been there.

 

Then Keith returns to his bed. Waits. Kicks his pants back off. Decides to keep his red shirt on. Waits some more.


[Shiro]

> I’m on my way.


The text stares back at him tauntingly. Sighing, Keith flops back down on the bed and rolls over onto his stomach, pillowing his head in his crossed arms and leaving his bare ass exposed to the air. He wonders if Shiro took care of himself at his place before leaving, or if he’s been driving this whole time with a raging erection. He's seen the picture, okay. That thing was raging.

 

Or what if…

 

What if Shiro’s having second thoughts.

 

It’s gotta be different to actually do something in real life than over a text. It gives a person added confidence. Boldness that usually isn’t there.

 

Keith scrolls back up and rereads their conversation. Shiro’s words sounded pretty damned determined, like they were all thoughts that had been bottled up for months, just waiting for an outlet and when he was finally granted one he just couldn’t stop laying them all out…

 

But there was still that small chance. Maybe Shiro had turned back around on the highway. Maybe he stopped before he got to his car. Maybe he never even made it out of his apartment.

 

Maybe—

 

Knock knock knock.

 

Keith’s eyes widen, his heart skipping a beat. He feels frozen to his bed in the pregnant pause that follows.

 

“Keith?” Shiro’s voice comes muffled behind the door. It’s gentle, tentative. As if he’s been feeling just as nervous as Keith has since his last text.

 

It makes Keith melt. He lays his head back down on his arms and closes his eyes, smiling to himself.

 

Shiro knocks again.

 

“Keith.”

 

He doesn’t move to get up and answer the door. It’s unlocked; Shiro needs to come claim his prize.

 

Finally Keith hears Shiro’s hand on the doorknob and turning, pushing the door open with a creak.

 

“Keith, are you—?”

 

Silence.

 

Just silence.

 

Keith lies still, not daring to turn and see the look on Shiro’s face at the sight he was just greeted with. Of Keith, alone on his bed, wearing nothing but a red shirt and his ass in the air invitingly. He simply waits for a reaction, biting his lip.

 

Nothing happens for several seconds. Then Keith hears the sound of the door closing, slowly, the latch catching almost gently. Then a lock clicking into place.

 

Rushing steps. A dip in his bed. Hands on his ass spreading him apart and—

 

“Oh shit!” Keith practically arches off the bed as Shiro suddenly licks his tongue into Keith’s hole without a single word of warning. He squirms, writhing his hips, but Shiro only tightens his grip and holds him down. One hand is warm, the other cold. Oh, god. He’s wearing his prosthetic for this.

 

“Stay still,” Shiro rasps, his breath brushing over Keith’s hole. Then he dives back in, shoving his entire face into Keith’s ass and moaning like a man starved.

 

“Sh-Shiro—,”

 

“You have any idea how many times I nearly crashed on the way over here because I was thinking too hard about what I was going to do to you when I got here?” Shiro says, pausing for breath. He squeezes Keith’s cheeks, then spreads them apart, playing with his ass. “I should have known you’d pull something like this. Make me come in to see you splayed out like a meal.” He laves his tongue over Keith’s hole, making a sound in the back of his throat that Keith’s going to hear in his dreams for years to come.

 

Keith can only fist his sheets helplessly, searching for any kind of purchase. His brain is still catching up, struggling to fully process the last thirty seconds.

 

Shiro is here, and the Shiro that texted him such filthy words really exists. The same Shiro that looks at him with such fond eyes, casually slips existentialist jokes, and is practically too sweet and perfect to be real. The university’s Golden Boy.

 

He’s real. And he wants Keith.

 

“Look at this cute little hole,” Shiro murmurs, almost as if to himself, as he pulls back enough to circle his thumb around Keith’s rim. Then he curls the tip in, just enough to feel inside. “Gonna have it stretched around my cock before too long.”

 

Keith whines, arching his hips invitingly. Trying to get more of that thumb in him, wanting anything in him. “Yes,” he says. “Please.”

 

Shiro pulls it out, but quickly replaces it with his tongue. Spearing, circling, slobbering, a cocktail of stimulation that leaves Keith’s hole pliant and hungry.

 

Keith’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and he lies there and just takes it.

 

But he’s growing impatient for more, so he reaches behind himself for Shiro’s head, grabbing him by the hair and pulling his face into his ass. Shiro chuckles, the noise muffled, but he lets Keith do as he pleases. Keith undulates his hips in little circles, trying to get his tongue in deeper. He just wants something. “Shiro, please.”

 

Shiro takes Keith’s hand from his hair and lets it go. “You remember what I said?” he says darkly. “I said hours, Keith. And it will be hours if you keep being a brat and rushing me.”

 

“Shirooooo,” Keith whines, dropping his head. His long black hair frames his face, hiding his flush.

 

“Do you remember what else I said?” Shiro asks calmly, pushing his thumb back into Keith’s rim.

 

Of course Keith remembers. Their conversation has all but burned into his mind. “You said—you said you were going to ruin me.”

 

“Mmm. And that I was going to make you cum with my tongue.” Shiro swirls his thumb, tilting his head to kiss the side of Keith’s ass cheek. “I hope you’re prepared.”

 

Oh. Oh god. Keith moans, smothering his face into his pillow.

 

He’s not prepared at all, but that doesn’t stop Shiro from doing exactly as he said he would. No matter how Keith tries to get him to move on or do something else, Shiro stays put, eating his ass like it’s his last meal. The only movement is when Shiro abruptly gets up and grabs Keith beneath his arms, shifting him up further toward the head of his bed, but when that’s done Shiro returns right back to his favorite spot, only this time with enough bed space of his own to lay down and grind his hips into the sheets as he works.

 

Keith doesn’t know how much time passes like this. His hole is sopping wet and open, relaxed. His eyes are hazy, simply allowing himself to sink in the pleasure and soak. His mind hovers fuzzily, slow and calm. Shiro stays behind him, making his own moaning noises as he fucks his tongue into Keith’s ass like a cock, bobbing his head. At one point Keith turns to look and watch, only to find Shiro already staring at him over the round curve of his ass, grey eyes dark with intent.

 

Keith blearily glances up to the clock on the wall.

 

Forty-five minutes has passed.

 

Keith moans loudly at the realization, his ass clenching tightly, orgasm imminent. “Shiro, Shiro, Shiro—,”

 

Shiro takes him by the hips and lifts his entire lower half off the bed, Keith’s legs kicking out and splayed in the air helplessly. He wraps his arms around Keith’s lower back and hugs him tightly, still eating him out and moving his tongue faster. Keith’s cock bobs, brushing against Shiro’s chest.

 

The sudden position turns Keith’s world upside down, and he scrambles for purchase. His moans hitch to the rhythm of Shiro’s head, ascending in pitch, closer, closer, closer, winding the band in his gut so tight he can barely breathe—

 

And then the band snaps. Keith’s clenches down so tight on Shiro’s tongue it almost hurts, pulsing in waves. He cries out, spilling all over Shiro’s chest in ropes of white. Shiro moans happily as he tongue-fucks Keith through his orgasm.

 

Eventually it becomes too much, but Keith’s holding himself up on his arms and can’t paw at Shiro to let him go. But it’s as if Shiro knows what Keith needs, and soon enough he’s slowly letting Keith back down to earth and to his bed, rubbing his hands soothingly over Keith’s back.

 

“There you go,” he soothes. “Come back to me, baby.”

 

“Ah…” Keith lies utterly boneless. He lets Shiro continue the impromptu massage, tracing the shape of Keith’s body and squeezing his shoulders.

 

“I have wanted to do that to you ever since the first time I saw you blush,” says Shiro.

 

“Oh…” Keith hides his face in his pillow in embarrassment. He thinks he knows what Shiro is talking about. He remembers the heat in his face when Shiro praised him after finishing a test before everyone else. He called him something special. Before Keith knew it, his face was aflame. He thought he had managed to duck his head and hide it, but evidently he didn’t succeed.

 

“Wanted to see how low that blush of yours went… wanted to see your face as I made you cum…” Shiro’s hands trail down Keith’s back before giving a small squeeze to his ass. “Stay here,” he orders, and then gets up off the bed.

 

Keith lifts his head, confused. “Whuh?” Where is Shiro going? Is he leaving?

 

Keith watches as Shiro makes his way into the bathroom, shucking off his shirt in the meantime, showing off the muscles in his back. Then Keith can’t see what Shiro does in there. But it doesn’t take long before he comes back. Keith reaches out as Shiro slips into bed next to him, glancing down to his lips as Shiro wraps his arms around him.

 

Shiro gets the message.

 

He cards a hand through the back of Keith’s hair as he slants their mouths together and kisses him for the first time, already starting open and deep. Keith tilts his head and lets Shiro lead. His breath is strong and minty—he must have been borrowing Keith’s mouthwash in there.

 

“Hi,” Shiro whispers.

 

“Hi,” Keith whispers back.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

“Good,” Keith answers, arching a little with Shiro’s hand stroking down his back. “So good.”

 

“Good,” says Shiro. His fingers tease at the hem of Keith’s red shirt, the only article of clothing he has left on. “Then let’s get this off.”

Chapter Text

It’s almost amazing how much one mis-sent text can change Keith’s night. Just a few hours ago he figured he’d be having yet another unsatisfying sexting session with a fuckbuddy before tossing over and falling asleep. Yet here he is, in bed with his crush, being kissed and groped at like it’s the only chance he’ll ever get.

 

Shiro nips at Keith’s lips as he tugs Keith’s red shirt up his chest, pulling away just long enough to slip it up and over his head, tussling his hair, before discarding it over the side of the bed. Now naked, Keith finds himself enveloped in Shiro’s strong arms. The prosthetic splays itself wide across Keith’s back, keeping him close, while the other trails along Keith’s side before curling over his ass, stroking a lone finger up and down the crease. Keith arches invitingly, but Shiro continues his teasing.

 

“Mmm,” Shiro mumbles, lips brushing against Keith’s. “What should I do with you next…”

 

Keith’s eyes flutter shut, breathless. “You laid out—ahh—a pretty specific plan earlier…”

 

The corner of Shiro’s mouth twitches, amused. “And I’m always such a stickler for plans, right?”

 

Keith huffs out a laugh that ends on a choked off moan when Shiro dips his finger just slightly past Keith’s rim. Sure, maybe The Golden Boy of their university was a stickler for plans, and he had to be when TA’ing a class, but the man Keith got to know outside of their studies—Takashi Shirogane—was about as impulsive as they came.

 

The fact that he got Keith to continue sexting him and then drove all the way here only to bury his tongue in his ass without so much as a greeting pretty much spoke for itself.

 

“I did like your ideas, though… mmm, fuck.”

 

Shiro withdraws his finger to lift Keith’s leg and hook it over his hips, opening him wider, before going back to massaging over Keith’s perineum. Keith wriggles, dragging the stiff material of Shiro’s jeans against his skin. He can feel the hard line of Shiro’s cock beneath the confines. Tucked to the left, though that’s never been much of a mystery to anyone with eyes.

 

It’s like Shiro can’t bear to stop kissing Keith for too long at a time. Licking past his lips, gently nipping, open and closed, Shiro cards his prosthetic through the hair at the nape of Keith’s neck to keep him still while Shiro has his way with his mouth. It leaves Keith dizzy.

 

“There’s so much more where those came from,” Shiro finally says, mumbling softly.

 

Keith clutches to him tighter. “Tell me.”

 

“Hmm.” Shiro traces the line of Keith’s nose with his own. As he muses, his finger finds its way back to Keith’s hole and begins to shallowly pump in and out. “I wouldn’t mind hearing some of the kind of thoughts that run through your head, personally.”

 

Keith blushes, tucking his head into Shiro’s neck. “I’m not… I’m not nearly as good as you are. At that.”

 

“‘That?’”

 

“You know. Talking dirty.”

 

Shiro lifts an eyebrow. “Keith. I’m pretty sure I have electronic evidence that points to the contrary.”

 

“Yeah, but…” It’s different typing it out when he can’t see how intense Shiro’s grey eyes get when he watches Keith. Looking at Shiro, it’s like the words get caught in his throat. He doesn’t know how Shiro keeps up.

 

“You made me fully hard in seconds, Keith.”

 

Keith flushes.

 

“Just tell me what you want,” Shiro continues. “If you’ve wanted me as long as I’ve wanted you, there’re plenty of things you’re itching to do by now. C’mon,” he soothes, tracing his nose down Keith’s cheek and brushing his ear. “It’s just you and me. Tell me what you think about when you touch yourself, what makes you cum.” He captures Keith’s soft earlobe between his lips, nibbling.

 

“Hnn…” Keith arches, craning his neck. Finally, he blurts out, “I want to suck your cock.”

 

Shiro rumbles a low sound in approval, tightening his grip on Keith.

 

“I know you said it’s too big to do right now, but someday I wanna get on my knees for you and let you fuck my throat. Make my mouth just another wet hole for you to use. Fuck it hard and fast and hold me by my hair to make me stay still and—,” He sucks in a breath, licks his lips. “I just—I want to be good for you.”

 

“Fuck. Keith.” Shiro squeezes his fingers into Keith’s backside and guides him into a hard grind. He throbs against him, and cranes his head down to nuzzle against Keith’s neck. “Of course you’ll be good. You’re always so good for me, always.”

 

“Even when I’m being a brat?” Keith quips.

 

“Even when you’re being a brat,” Shiro confirms, voice so soft and gaze so fond that Keith doesn’t know what to do under such a look. “Because I still know the truth, deep down.” He gives Keith a sudden kiss, hard and brief, stealing his breath away. “Now c’mon,” he says once they break apart. “How about you suck my cock for a while and I’ll play with your ass, hm?”

 

As soon as he gets his bearings back Keith agrees immediately, wriggling out of Shiro’s hold and twisting to crawl around and face his legs. He splays his body next to Shiro’s, popping his ass out, as he reaches for the hem of Shiro’s jeans. He doesn’t unzip it immediately, instead taking his time to appreciate the image of Shiro’s hard cock outlining his tight pants. He strokes his fingers down the length gently, watching it twitch.

 

Shiro meanwhile cups Keith’s backside in his hands, squeezing appreciatively. “Lube?” he asks.

 

Keith almost forgot. “Nightstand drawer,” he says, silently thanking his past self for his foresight. Then he leans down and starts mouthing at Shiro’s bulge.

 

Shiro grunts as he reaches over to the side of the bed and finds what he’s looking for. Keith hears the cap pop open, the squelch of the bottle as Shiro squeezes some onto his fingers, and then silence.

 

As soon as Keith undoes the button, Shiro slides his fingers along Keith’s crack. It’s stimulation Keith’s gotten very familiar with over the last hour, and he’s in the mood for more. He finds the zipper tab and tugs down, the catch of each tooth separating filling the air. Shiro lifts his hips to help Keith shove his jeans down, quickly moving onto his boxers next, needing to get everything separating Keith from Shiro’s cock out of the way. His prize springs free, slapping Shiro’s stomach, and Keith feels his mouth water. The picture Shiro sent him earlier didn’t do it nearly enough justice; it couldn’t capture the exact shade of skin, the veins trailing up and down, the dot of pre slipping out the slit.

 

The scent. Man-stink straight from the source in its purest, most unadulterated form. If he wasn’t already naked, the smell alone would have made him drop his pants and present himself right then and there. Keith fucking loves it.

 

He leans down and laves a long stripe up the length at the same time Shiro finally slips a finger inside of him. Keith moans openly on Shiro’s cock, breath wet and warm, and Shiro twitches. Wrapping his fingers around the base, Keith taps the tip against his lips teasingly, flicking his tongue on the underside of the glans. What is it about cockheads that are so damn soft? It’s a great mystery of the universe. Shiro’s dick especially makes him want to just rub it all over his lips and give it kisses. So he does, and after a few open-mouthed slips of tongue he lets the tip slide further into his mouth.

 

“Fuck yeah, baby, suck the tip in, just like that.”

 

Keith does as he’s told, humming a pleased sound around Shiro’s cock. It’s huge, definitely bigger than any other he’s had. He can understand why Shiro keeps warning him about it.

 

Still, it’s far too tempting to stuff more into his mouth. Keith opens as wide as he can, sliding down a few inches of the shaft.

 

Shiro throws his head back and groans, unable to stop the hitch in his hips. His finger pauses stroking inside of Keith. “J-just the tip, baby, don’t push yourself and take too much at once.”

 

Keith huffs a breath through his nose, stubbornly keeping his head in place.

 

“Don’t worry,” Shiro says. “I’ll give you all of it when I fuck you.” He punctuates the statement by adding a second finger, pushing them inside all the way to their knuckles.

 

Keith moans, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He wants it all, wants everything Shiro has to give him. He can take it. He can take it all.

 

Determined, Keith relaxes his throat and pushes himself further, sliding his head down Shiro’s cock until he gives a garbled, sloppy choke.

 

“Fuck,” Shiro whispers, the word punched out of him, as if he’s ashamed to have found that sound as sexy as he does. He reaches with his prosthetic for Keith’s hair and pulls his head back, his wet cock popping free of Keith’s lips.

 

Keith gasps for breath, eyes hazy. He hears Shiro breathing heavily as well, fingers flexing in his hair. He doesn’t say anything for several seconds, gathering his bearings.

 

“If you keep ignoring me, I’ll make you just look at it while I finger you,” Shiro finally warns.

 

Keith whines. “But I want it.” He arches his back for emphasis, clenching around Shiro’s fingers. “I want it.”

 

“I know, sweetheart.” Shiro’s prosthetic fingers turn gentle, petting through Keith’s black hair. “I know. And you’ll get it, I promise. Just let me make you cum one more time before we do that. Alright? Sticking to the plan and all.”

 

Keith gives a little laugh, and can hear the smile in Shiro’s voice.

 

“C’mon. Just one time on my fingers. And if you promise to be good, I’ll let you suck my cock while I do it. Sound good?”

 

Still catching his breath, Keith nods.

 

Slowly, Shiro’s fingers skate through his hair, releasing him.

 

“Good boy.”

 

Keith whines, hiding his face. Reading that phrase on his phone was one thing. Hearing it, in Shiro’s deep voice rasped in arousal, was an entirely new experience. It sends shivers down his spine, and a new incentive to do as he was told.

 

God, he really would do anything for Shiro’s praise.

 

And okay, he supposes it isn’t the worst thing in the world to have to keep sucking Shiro’s magnificent dick while getting expertly fingered.

 

Shiro trails his prosthetic down Keith’s back before settling on the curve of his ass, and now free, Keith returns to Shiro’s cock. He obeys this time, focusing on just the tip. He lathers his tongue over the head, licking up drops of pre, and squeezes the base with his fingers.

 

But it gets difficult to concentrate with Shiro steadily stroking inside of him. His two fingers spread him in a comfortable stretch, pumping languidly in and out.

 

“Have you ever had a prostate orgasm, Keith?” he asks nonchalantly.

 

Keith has to pause to think about it.

 

“Without any touch to your cock,” Shiro clarifies.

 

That’s much easier to answer. “No.”

 

“Well then,” Shiro says, rubbing his thumb in circles over Keith’s perineum, “I think it’s time you experienced one.”

 

He slips his fingers in farther, and Keith spreads his legs wider to help. He tries not to think about Shiro’s seeking fingers too much as he strokes Shiro’s cock, dragging the tip over his lips. He watches as Shiro’s balls draw up rhythmically whenever he does something that must feel particularly good, and Keith can’t resist lowering to lick and suck one of them into his mouth. He can tell Shiro likes that, with the way his toes curl.

 

But then Shiro finds his prostate, and Keith can’t do much more.

 

“OH—,” he cries, arching his back at that first gentle touch.

 

“Is that it…?” Shiro asks, voice low, experimentally stroking the spot again.

 

“Mmm…” Keith bites his lip. He undulates his hips, asking for more.

 

“Oh,” Shiro whispers. “Oh, you’re in for a treat, Keith.”

 

He doesn’t start off rough, doesn’t immediately begin pounding into Keith’s prostate, but instead continues his curious explorations, mapping out the circle of the walnut-sized gland. He traces his fingers over the texture, shooting Keith little sparks of pleasure. Determined, Keith stuffs Shiro’s tip into his mouth and sucks hard, breathing heavily through his nose. He strokes up and down the shaft, twisting his wrist.

 

“Look so fucking good on my cock,” Shiro mumbles. “Can’t wait to to see you take it all down your throat someday… mmm, fuck. Gonna replace my fingers with my cock before too long. But you gotta cum on me, baby, you gotta cum on my fingers first, that’s it…”

 

He starts really giving it to Keith then, holding down his lower back with his prosthetic while his fingers curl in and fuck in a come hither gesture, nailing Keith’s prostate. Keith lets Shiro’s cock drop from his lips as he moans, clutching at the bedsheets, unable to do anything but just take it.

 

He feels the beginnings of an orgasm, the sensation coming from deep within his pelvis, but it stays there. Keith is familiar with the sensation, but usually he would start jerking himself off at this point. He’s never just… resisted touching himself to find out what happens.

 

So far, it’s nothing much. Just that same feeling, steady and true. Like he’s about to cum but it just doesn’t get any more intense.

 

But then that feeling spreads. It flows down his legs and up his chest, and it’s like he can feel every microscopic particle on his skin, charging, waiting to be released. Holding him on some kind of invisible precipice.

 

“Shiro, I… I think I’m—,”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Keep going. Let it happen.”

 

Keith is shaking. He’s floating. He’s—something, but Shiro’s got him, holding him close and keeping him still as he finger fucks Keith relentlessly through his first prostate orgasm. It feels amazing. So much more different from cumming from his cock, or even having some prostate stimulation getting fucked while jerking it. Keith never wants it to end.

 

After a while he starts worrying that it really might never end.

 

But Shiro is there, soothing him with sweet words, stroking his hand up and down Keith’s back. At some point Keith feels Shiro slowly pulling his fingers out and circling them gently around Keith’s rim. He comes back down to earth to see Shiro smiling fondly at him. The sensation lingers in his body in little aftershocks, and Keith moans quietly, his limbs feeling like jelly.

 

Shiro wraps his arms around Keith and maneuvers him back to his side, drawing him close. With a smile he presses his lips to Keith’s, kissing him sweetly. Keith closes his eyes and hums into it.

 

When they part, Shiro reaches up and tucks a lock of hair behind Keith’s ear. He gazes at Keith, his eyes full of promise.

 

“I’m going to give you several more of those with my cock before the night is over.”

 

Oh, god.

Chapter Text

Now both naked, they spend several long minutes taking their time kissing, bodies pressed up against each other. Keith can feel Shiro’s hard length, spit-slicked and throbbing, against his own. He squirms a little, just for a small taste of friction between their cocks, and whines in the back of his throat. That's going to be inside of him soon.

 

Shiro said so.

 

He promised.

 

But instead of arranging Keith in place and finally plunging inside, Shiro pulls away once again, rolling over the side of the bed and getting up.

 

“Hey…!” Keith protests, frowning up at him as Shiro saunters over to the kitchenette. His eyes naturally fall to that glorious backside, which Shiro didn't bother to cover. It jiggles slightly with every step, the back of his legs dark with hair. His entire body is pretty hairy, actually. Keith fucking loves it.

 

What he doesn't love is Shiro parting from him again without explanation.

 

Shiro just sends a playful smirk over his shoulder as he bends down (oh damn ) and opens the mini-refrigerator. “Relax, baby, I'm just getting you some water.”

 

“Not thirsty,” Keith says, though only now does he notice just how parched his throat is from all that moaning and panting. He feels like he did double—no, triple the amount of cardio on a regular day. So maybe water is actually a good idea and Shiro is not only attentive in bed but outside of it and it makes Keith all melted and warm inside. But still, he wants to get to the main event. “Get back here so you can fuck me.”

 

“So needy,” Shiro chides lowly as he withdraws two water bottles from the fridge and hip-checks it closed. He walks back to Keith and sits at the edge of the bed, twisting open one bottle. Keith reaches for it, but Shiro pulls it back out of reach. Keith gives him a look. In lieu of explaining Shiro just cups the back of Keith’s head and tilts the water to his lips, letting him take small sips.

 

It shouldn't be hot, but. It kind of is. Shiro’s hand is strong as it grips Keith, fingers threading his long black hair, holding him steady. He could so easily break Keith with that hand. Instead he's spoiling him.

 

“I can drink it myself, you know,” Keith says after he finishes the water, and Shiro places the empty bottle on the nightstand before starting his own with deep, long gulps.

 

“Hush and let me pamper you,” Shiro says once he's done. “Besides,” a dark shadow falls over his face as he leans in close, looming over Keith. “You'll be begging me to help with the most simple of tasks after I'm done with you, you won't be able to lift a finger.”

 

Keith shivers, hard. “Prove it,” he says,

 

Shiro crushes their lips together. With the same hand that guided his head just a minute ago, he holds Keith in place with a vice grip, licking into his mouth. Keith breathes out a moan, letting Shiro have his way his with him.

 

“On your stomach,” Shiro murmurs into the kiss.

 

Keith pulls away after one last taste, and scoots backwards on the bed, watching Shiro with heady eyes. Rolling over onto his front, he wriggles into a comfortable position, crossing his arms under his head and splaying out his legs invitingly. He feels more than hears Shiro approaching, the duvet dipping at his sides as Shiro hovers over him. Then Shiro sits back on his haunches, straddling Keith’s legs. Keith makes a noise as Shiro abruptly grabs Keith’s ass cheeks in both hands.

 

“Used to stare at this all the time during lectures,” Shiro muses, squeezing appreciatively. “Especially after you handed in your work. Hated to see you leave, but loved to watch you go.”

 

Keith snorts a little, before moaning in the back of his throat as he feels the head of Shiro’s cock rubbing at his crease.

 

“There was this one time,” Shiro continues, nonchalant, as if he's not about to give Keith the greatest dicking of his life, “you dropped a pencil right after you turned around. You bent down to get it, and I swear all the blood in my body went straight to my cock. I fantasized about shoving you against the desk, pushing your pants down just enough, and fucking you right then and there in front of the whole lecture hall.”

 

“Fuck,” Keith gasps, burying his head in his arms. It was so similar to his own fantasies he had of Shiro. He spent so many lonely nights in this very bed, stroking himself off to thoughts of Shiro pinning him to the office door, where anyone could walk in and discover them.

 

“And to think you wanted me back then too…” Shiro’s voice falls low. “Was that what you were doing, Keith? Were you trying to tease me on purpose? Show me these slim hips, this perfect ass?” Shiro guides his cock over Keith’s rim, slowly grazing up and down, kissing Keith’s hole with the head. “C’mon. Tell me the truth, baby.”

 

Keith blushes heavily, silent. Was that what he was doing? He always figured he never had a chance with Shiro, and thought he had accepted it fully. But somewhere, subconsciously, he must had still hoped, still wanted…

 

“Baby.”

 

“I did,” Keith finally admits, voice muffled into the sheets. “I wanted… I wanted you to notice…”

 

“And I did,” Shiro’s voice soothes, finally pushing his hips just so. Keith groans loudly as he feels the head pop just past his rim. He arches his hips, inviting more. Shiro gradually feeds him his cock, dipping down to drape his whole body over Keith's, smothering. Shiro wraps his arms around Keith and holds him close. “I noticed you. I wanted you.”

 

Keith can barely hear over the roaring of blood in his ears, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Shiro’s dick feels like it’s endless, inch after inch after inch sinking inside. It stretches Keith so good, so full, and before he knows it he feels the heavy weight of Shiro’s balls pressing against his ass. He moans in disbelief. All of it. He fit all of Shiro inside him. God, it’s so fucking huge he can practically taste it in the back of his throat.

 

Shiro releases a noise as well, something deep and feral, as he pulls back to watch the way Keith’s hole clenches around him. He spreads the cheeks with his thumbs, purring low in his throat at the sight.

 

“And now I have you.”

 

With that, Shiro pulls out just an inch before sinking back in like he's returning home. Keith keens, arching his back in the hopes of fitting just a bit more. He's stretched to his limit, but he can't get enough.

 

Shiro must know the strain it has on him. He lowers himself over Keith once again, covering his body with his own. Shiro searches for one of Keith’s hands and threads their fingers together. Then he guides his hips back and forth in little rocking motions, gradually easing Keith’s body into getting used to his size.

 

Keith only feels himself crave for more. Squeezing Shiro’s hand, Keith gives a little buck of his hips in the hopes of egging Shiro on. Shiro doesn't take the bait though; only continues to fuck him gently, pressing wet needy kisses on Keith’s neck and slipping out a few grunts of pleasure.

 

“Fuck, baby, look at you, taking all of me in like a good boy…”

 

Keith mewls, a pathetic and vulnerable sound. “Shiro…”

 

“There you go, that's it… you feel so good, Keith, better than I ever dreamed…”

 

Keith finds his voice enough to practically sob out, “y-you too.”

 

His entire existence becomes nothing but Shiro’s cock inside him. Gliding, drifting, so big and hard yet so, so very gentle. It's almost hypnotizing.

 

But Keith still wants more.

 

He wants to be ruined.

 

Again, he arches back, only for Shiro to grip Keith by the hip and forcefully slow him down. Keith moans in frustration, hearing Shiro chuckling darkly in his ear. Something about that sound triggers a memory in Keith, only earlier that night, reading over filthy fantasies spelled out by Shiro over text…

 

I’m going to start off slow. Make you get used to me. Maybe tease. Make you beg for faster. Harder. See what other kinds of names I can get you to call me.

 

Keith gasps out, finally understanding. He clenches his fingers into the sheets, hair falling over his eyes to hide his face. Normally he never would beg, but…

 

But god, he needs it.

 

“Shiro…”

 

Shiro slows, his thrusts hardly even thrusts at all, more languid rolls of his hips. “Mmm?”

 

Keith swallows. Bites his lip. Then, resigned, he drops his head forward.

 

“P-please…”

 

“Hmm?” Shiro nuzzles Keith’s cheek with his own. “I didn't quite catch that, baby.”

 

And he called Keith a brat.

 

Again, Keith swallows his pride and sends the biggest, wateriest puppy eyes over his shoulder. “Please, Shiro, fuck me… fuck me…”

 

Shiro’s eyes widen, red flushing over his cheeks. Then it's his turn to hide his face, his bangs brushing Keith’s neck. “ Keith …”

 

His strong arms cling to Keith’s body, and Keith feels Shiro nod. He rolls his hips out and ruts back in, jolting Keith an inch forward.

 

Shiro finally begins to fuck Keith a little bit faster, a little bit harder.

 

A little bit better.

 

Shiro aims it so that the very tip of his cockhead drags back and forth directly over Keith’s prostate, shocking Keith into crying out. Yes, yes, this is what he wanted. Keith wriggles and writhes, meeting Shiro’s thrusts halfway, his mind now only focused on that precipice and getting there.

 

Getting there.

 

Getting there…

 

Keith clenches hard, teeth gritting. Shiro is still teasing him. It's better than before, but still not enough. Shiro promised to make Keith come on his cock, but with this pace he's not going to get anywhere.

 

“Shiro come on …!” he resorts to begging again. Sweat beads at his skin, hair clinging to the nape of his neck. Shiro is hot behind him, smothering. What's it going to take, if begging isn't enough?

 

Keith remembers the promise, again.

 

See what other kinds of names I can get you to call me.

 

Keith starts spouting off every dominant name he can think of in a desperate babble.

 

“Sir! Professor! King! Alpha! Master! Daddy!” he cries that last one out as Shiro gives a hard thrust, shoving Keith forward and leaving him to scramble at the sheets.

 

Shiro bursts out laughing, low and rumbling. “I should have known you'd keep that smart fucking mouth of yours even during sex,” he says, finally picking up the pace. He reaches over to tuck a lock of dark hair behind Keith’s ear. “One of these days, I'm going to find out which name actually does it for you,” he promises.

 

It all gets so much more intense from there.

 

Shiro really starts to fuck Keith like he means it. “Hands and knees,” he commands in a rasp, and grips Keith by the hips and guides him into bouncing on his cock. Keith can only follow the directions as best he can, letting Shiro take over. The room is filled with the clap of skin against skin, Keith’s ass turning red from the force of slaps from Shiro’s hips.

 

“Look at you,” Shiro growls in awe. “Look how hungry this ass is for my fat cock. You're swallowing me up, Keith, fuck.”

 

Keith moans helplessly in response, lolling his head forward. If he thought Shiro’s aim was good before, it doesn't compare to the way he's absolutely nailing Keith’s prostate now.

 

“Good boy, such a good—boy—,” Shiro mumbles under his breath, punctuating his words with hard juts.

 

Keith arches his back and releases a sound he doesn't even know how to identify. That feeling from before, when Shiro fingered him, is back with a vengeance. It seizes his entire body without mercy, spreading ecstasy all over his skin. Keith quakes with the force of it, flopping down to the bed uselessly. Nothing comes out of his cock, but Keith still feels the effects of orgasm wracking through his soul.

 

Shiro only continues to fuck him. “That's one from my cock,” he says, voice pleased. “Let’s see how many more you can give me before the night is over.”

 

And with that, he flips them over. Keith lies splayed out on Shiro’s broad body, his back to his chest, facing the ceiling. Shiro somehow managed to pull that one off without slipping outside of Keith. Dizzy with the sudden movement, Keith doesn't realize Shiro’s resumed his thrusts until he feels his prostate being milked all over again, already so close to the edge despite coming not even a minute ago.

 

“Oh god,” Keith gasps. “Oh god ohgodohgodohgod—,”

 

His back arches like a bow, cock throbbing with the need to spill. For a while, there are no responsibilities in his life, no school, no nothing. Just Shiro’s warm hands on him, a fuzziness in his brain.

 

“That's two,” is rasped in his ear after what feels like hours.

 

“You can do that?!” Keith squawks. Was that even a separate prostate orgasm, or did he just have one that lasted that long?

 

“Wish you had a mirror up there,” says Shiro, looking up at the ceiling. “Then you could see how amazing you look like this, spread out on my cock.”

 

If there was a mirror on the ceiling, Keith thinks he would much rather use it to watch Shiro moving underneath him. Watch the flex of his muscles, strong biceps holding him in place, legs braced on the mattress to fuck up into him. Yes, Shiro would be much more beautiful to behold.

 

After that, Shiro takes him in a variety of new positions. Lying on their sides, Shiro throws Keith’s leg back over his hips to keep him nice and spread open as he works another prostate orgasm out of him. Then Shiro gets them both on their knees, clutching Keith tight to his front, as he takes him apart yet again. Keith reaches behind and threads his fingers through Shiro’s cropped hair, throat hoarse from his cries. His hard cock flops uselessly. Whenever Keith reaches to stroke himself off Shiro grabs his hand and pulls him back, barring him from cumming out his dick.

 

He doesn't know how many more times he orgasms from his prostate. No man should be able to cum this much in one night. Keith grows desperate, his body unable to process just what to do with so much pleasure.

 

“No more!” he finally cries out after what feels like hours, body drenched in sweat and worn out. He gasps for breath, then says it again. “Please, Shiro, no more. Let me—let me cum out of my cock already!”

 

Shiro bends low, nipping Keith’s ear. “One more,” he says.

 

Keith pants heavily. “No more,” he whines, “I can't take it.”

 

“You can,” Shiro presses. “I know you can, baby. Just one more from you ass, then I will let you spill. Can you do that for me? You've been so good for me tonight, I know you're capable. You're such a good boy.”

 

Damn him, Shiro knows how weak those words make Keith. He almost wants to cry from it all, but eventually swallows and nods through his tears. “One more…” he whispers. He looks up at Shiro with watery eyes. Shiro gazes down at him far too fondly for a man whose been fucking his brains out, but it still makes Keith’s heart swell.

 

He can do this. He can give Shiro one more.

 

On one condition.

 

“Like this…” Keith adjusts himself to lie on his back, spreading his legs around Shiro’s who sits crouched in front of him. He beckons Shiro closer, holding his arms out. “I want to see your face.”

 

Shiro’s grey eyes soften, and he obliges. Slipping back inside, he rocks his hips gently for the time being, working Keith back up again. His hair is damp at his neck, sweat dotting his skin. He wraps his arms around Keith and kisses him deeply. Keith moans into the kiss, hooking his legs around Shiro’s hips.

 

“Love the way you feel when you cum,” Shiro murmurs into the kiss, confessing. “You start squeezing me over and over, I can't get enough of it. I just want to make you cum for hours.”

 

And Keith rather likes cumming on Shiro’s cock. He's hard and throbbing inside of him, head massaging over his prostate, and it doesn't take too long to warm Keith back up again to panting with desperation. Shiro leans back and holds Keith’s legs out, spreading them lewdly to watch the point where they connect, the base of his cock stretching Keith’s pink rim to the limit.

 

“Just one more,” Shiro reminds him, “cum one more time on my cock and I will let you finish.”

 

Keith nods, eyes falling closed as he gets lost in the feeling. He thrashes, hair tossing wildly as Shiro thumps the headboard into the wall, watching with awe in his eyes. Again, the sensations take Keith far away, unlike any other orgasm he's ever had up until this point. He clenches rhythmically down on Shiro’s cock, feeling backed up in his own. He shouts his orgasm, toes curling.

 

When he comes to, Shiro’s hand is stroking Keith, fist flying over his cock as he thrusts into his own release. Shiro gasps his name, and Keith feels himself getting filled, spurt after spurt of cum getting fucked deeper into Keith's ass.

 

It's all Keith needs to finally spill.

 

The sheer force of it shoots white cum all the way up to Keith’s chin, the second arching over his chest. He just keeps cumming, all of it milked out of his prostate over the night with nowhere to go without stimulation to his cock. He feels like he's absolutely covering himself in it. He just can't stop.

 

“Holy shit, Keith—,”

 

Shiro watches with wide eyes at the vision before him. Keith can't imagine how debauched he must look, spread out drenched in sweat over his sheets, skin flushed with red, cum spilled all over his body, eyes half-lidded and staring at nothing. Shiro cups Keith’s cheek with a hand and kisses him deeply.

 

“You did so good,” he reassures. “So good for me. So much better than I ever imagined.”

 

“You… you too,” Keith manages through his parched throat.

 

At the sound of it, Shiro withdraws from Keith, slipping out of him. A bit of Shiro’s cum slips out, sliding down his crack. Shiro’s eyes blow wide as he wipes up a bit of cum before easing it back into Keith’s hole, like he just can't stand seeing any go to waste.

 

Then Shiro rolls over to the side of the bed and gets up, once again making his way over to the mini-fridge and grabbing a couple of water bottles. Keith doesn't complain this time when Shiro cups his head and guides him into drinking water. In fact, he feels rather too useless to do anything right now.

 

Shiro was right. He really he did dick him down so good Keith wouldn't be able to lift a finger.

 

Keith laughs a little, water dribbling down the sides of his mouth. Shiro wipes it up dutifully, smiling with a tilt of his head. “What's so funny?”

 

“You. This. Everything. I can't believe this all happened because I accidentally sexted you.”

 

“Mm. I suppose me either. But,” Shiro leans down to kiss the corner of Keith’s lips, “I wouldn't change a thing.”