( he doesn't want to overwhelm him — not in the least — and of course that's why he starts out slow, tentative, even if that means his touch doesn't carry much of an impact with it yet. it goes without saying he's so new to this that it's going to take him more than once to find his bearings, find his footing when it comes to what makes keith feel good, and he'll happily do this as many times as he needs until he gets it right.
( he's said it before and he'll undoubtedly say it again, but there is no part of keith that he doesn't want, whether the other thinks it might be something he's lacking or not; it's the personality, all his little quirks and his smiles and all the intangible things that shiro has fallen in love with, and the tangible can only come secondary, though it stands to reason that the other could grow a second head or tentacles, or something equally ridiculous and he would still want him with everything in him. )
at first, when keith brings his hand away from between his legs he thinks he might have already somehow managed to mess up, to make him feel uncomfortable but it becomes clear enough when short work is made of both button and zipper, when thumbs hook into fabric to tug it down and as much as he might have thought he was prepared to see this bit of him bared, the way his throat goes dry and his eyes darken are clear indications that he was not.
he can't help but to stare, to want to touch and he might just miss the way keith looks at him as he reaches over, boldly, to follow the same path the other's fingers had taken; just to get an idea, swallowing thickly as he ends up stroking over his clit with middle and index finger, a soft, exploratory touch that still finds him shivering with it. )Jesus, Keith, you're — (wet already, he doesn't say, even if the tips of those questing fingers find a bit of that slickness and he moans with it, finally bringing his darkened gaze back up to level with keith's own. )
no subject
( he's said it before and he'll undoubtedly say it again, but there is no part of keith that he doesn't want, whether the other thinks it might be something he's lacking or not; it's the personality, all his little quirks and his smiles and all the intangible things that shiro has fallen in love with, and the tangible can only come secondary, though it stands to reason that the other could grow a second head or tentacles, or something equally ridiculous and he would still want him with everything in him. )
at first, when keith brings his hand away from between his legs he thinks he might have already somehow managed to mess up, to make him feel uncomfortable but it becomes clear enough when short work is made of both button and zipper, when thumbs hook into fabric to tug it down and as much as he might have thought he was prepared to see this bit of him bared, the way his throat goes dry and his eyes darken are clear indications that he was not.
he can't help but to stare, to want to touch and he might just miss the way keith looks at him as he reaches over, boldly, to follow the same path the other's fingers had taken; just to get an idea, swallowing thickly as he ends up stroking over his clit with middle and index finger, a soft, exploratory touch that still finds him shivering with it. ) Jesus, Keith, you're — ( wet already, he doesn't say, even if the tips of those questing fingers find a bit of that slickness and he moans with it, finally bringing his darkened gaze back up to level with keith's own. )
You're perfect. Have I told you that lately?