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"Hah, hah—"
"Fuck, Keith…"
The date went really well.
"Do you," pant, "do you wanna fuck me," hah, "Or do you wanna be fucked?"
Too well.
"God, mmph, Idon'tcare, take this thing off, pleaseplease—"
Keith concedes with a laugh under his breath, stripping off his leather jacket and throws it nasty on the floor, black tank top and bare biceps on incredible display for Lance, bathed in the pale moonlight streaming through their shutter blinds. His pecs peep through the neckline, and Lance would do anything to fucking have that off too.
Lance shuts him up with a forceful kiss, stripping off his own jacket in the process and yanking it away, pulling Keith right down on top of him. His hands glide to his ponytail mid-kiss and slides to hairtie right out, releasing all of his long, manly hair from the confines of the tie. He moans, yearns, grips, huffs, licks, bites, smooches, grinds into his jeans—
"Pants," kiss, "Off," tongue, "Mmph," breaks the wet kiss out of breath, "Please, I've been so fucking good—"
Keith growls, drenching him with spit-slicked kisses and holding his breath through his nose. He unbuttons his own pants quickly and yanks them down mid-kiss, kicking them off. As he yanks off his tank top and throws it on the floor next to their bed, Lance yanks his dick from his underwear and gives Keith a raw, rough handjob panting like a dog in his mouth.
Keith begins his hands descent to Lance's jeans and pulls them swiftly off, revealing a minor snail trail leading into red underwear. In the middle of their messy kiss, Keith pulls on his bottom lip with a grin and Lance sighs with his tongue in his mouth. It's fucked, it's ravishing, it's—
"You," huff, "Want this dick in your mouth, baby?"
"A-ah," Lance nods, yearns excitedly, already opening his mouth mid-kiss to cry out at the pet name, "I-I'm your baby?"
"You're my fucking baby," he leans over on his knees, gets closer to his face, "And if you're my good boy, you better suck it and swallow all of my cum, okay?"
And fuck, Lance would do anything for him right now.
There's no hesitation when he pulls the underwear down over his thighs and gravitates his mouth on to his beautiful dick, all sloppy and wet and tasting so good for Lance. He moans upon the delicious, pheromonal taste, and uses his tongue like a pro—bobbing his head up and down and suctioning around it in shuddered movements.
"Thaaaat's a good boy," Keith compliments. A crease develops in between his eyebrows, and Lance wants nothing more than to kiss his frustrations away, kiss and lick his cum up for his man. He puts a hand in his hair and guides him along. "Do I taste good?"
Lance hums in approval, hums vibrating all over his cock as he pulls off, jerks him off mouth open and tongue on the head, licking around it like the good boy he is. Lance feels tingles that settle home under his fingertips, and Keith exhales a moan that transforms into a sigh, a lustful echo resounding off of the walls.
"God, you look so gorgeous sucking me off," he whispers, faint enough that he almost sounds tender.
Lance moans as he licks and swallows him whole again, bobbing up and down with open mouthed kisses, humming all over his thick dick, feeling it throb in his mouth like it was made just for Lance's pleasure.
"Do you want me to jerk you off? like my baby boy deserves?"
The resounding moan all over his thick dick gives him the answer he needs; Keith guiding him with one hand on his head, the other quickly grabbing his longer cock out from his underwear. Thumb flicking over his pre-cum and tugging him along, Lance gets loud, whiny over his dick, his hands both on his hips as Keith begins to thrust his cock down his throat; fucking his mouth.
It feels sloppy, messy, nasty and yet, so fucking freeing of pressure and expectation that Keith doesn't think twice before he uses his hand on Lance's cock like an expert, balls smacking up and down on every flick of the wrist. Lance's mouth trembles over his mouthful of cock, shuddering at how much pre-cum flies down his cock and spreads all over like a hot bath for his dick alone.
"So pretty, whining," Keith shudders, brows knitted and face dropping in euphoria. He breathes in, exhales and almost loses it at every sensation. "Fuck, fucking hell baby, take my dick."
The air in the bedroom is thick, foggy, hot and moist. It smells like sex, desire, a flavourful mixture of the two of them fucking around. Lance is taking it like an absolute pro, submissively sucking, fucking—anything Keith wants in a heartbeat.
"Baby?" Keith asks. Lance looks up from his half-closed lashes, doe eyes that swallow Keith whole. In contrast to how pretty he looks, Keith pulls him off of his dick and stops tugging on his cock. Lance whines, and Keith uses that opening to spit in his mouth like the fucking whore he is for him. "Extra lube."
Hearts burst behind Lance's stricken eyes as he lets Keith guide him back onto his cock, his legs spread wide, legs twitching as Keith starts jerking him off again and mouth doing it's best to take his whole half-galra cock in full. His moans are drowned by his cock, throat fluttering in anticipation.
Lance can only hold on for dear life, hands gripping his pelvis like a lifeline.
"O-Oh, fu-u-u-ck, La-ah-nce, I-I'm gonna cum, baby." Keith lifts his gaze to the ceiling, eyes shut and bothered beyond belief. His hips stutter, breath shallow and he loses himself to Lance's throat. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, it's, ngh, I'm," a sigh of disbelief trembles out of his throat. Another rocky, desperate whimper exhales, "God, I-I'm cumming, I'm cumming in your pretty fucking mouth, oh..."
At the same time, Lance feels the same thrill; feels his throat constrict as Keith pushes his dick all the way to the back of his throat, feels the heat coil in his body as it tightens in his stomach, his ass, his thighs, his hips, his pelvis. He feels how quick its shudders through Lance's body like lightning, how Keith's hand won't stop fucking moving up and down his dick, Lance feeling his pre-cum tremble out of his poor, desperate cock—despite Keith clinging on to life for his own release.
Lance sighs, loud and proud with cock deep in his mouth and cums all over his hand—dirty and soaring to fucked out—his stomach, his pecs and even a flicker on his chin has cum all over it. He whines so hoarse, his throat opens up just in time for Keith's cum to trickle, shooting down his throat. Salt and tang and Keith is the only thing he can smell, taste, sense. It tastes so good, so made for him (and him only) that he suckles it down like he's been starving for weeks. Keith pulls out eventually, waiting for Lance to stop, and a final streak falls over onto his baby boy's open mouth and over his nose.
They're both panting like they've ran a fucking marathon, cheeks red with lust, Lance covered in both of their semen, hearts cratered in the blue pupils of his eyes that have been dilated whole.
A thrill shoots through his spine when Keith pets his cheek, his thumb gliding over his lips. Mid-pant, Lance suckles on his thumb, slicked and breathless with cum across his nose, and Keith fucking laughs in disbelief.
"Holy fucking shit, Lance," he whispers with withered appreciation, "You're fucking nasty."
Lance chuckles, pulling his thumb out and vibrantly, illuminatingly over the moon. "You're one to talk; spitting in my mouth like that."
"Hot?" Keith asks, gaze sharpening with newfound desire.
He nods with love-lust and vigour, swallows down the remainder stuck in his poor throat, and eyes the dick in front of him thickening again with the desire of a potential sex addict, "Mmm, I could go for a round two."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Keith slaps his face lightly, surprising Lance, and lifts his chin with the fingertips of his cum-coated hand that was tugging on his dick mere minutes ago—Lance preening at the attention, the smell, the taste, it all floods back as his gaze catches looking up at the man he loves.
"I'll fuck you so hard, you'll breathe my name on your tongue for days and think about my cock."
Lance gasps, a hitch of breath catching in his throat. Keith slides the hand under his chin, fingertips gliding over his throat; almost all the way around his neck but not quite. He trembles under his skin in anticipation. His hand drops, leaning away to grab some wet wipes for Lance's body on the side table.
"Now, stay down and lie there," Keith commands, eyes daring with warning; a challenge. Lance swallows a watery breath, a touch out of it. Holy shit. "If you move, you'll be screaming my name by the end of it."
He dares, oh, he so dares.
When Keith glides a wipe over his stomach, pulls off both of their underwear and flicks them to the floor, he can feel his own breathing get shallow, a deeper want trickling through that feels out of bounds. His foot twitches, his eyes flicker with desire, and he, of course, breaks the rules.
"Babe."
"Mm?"
He threads fingers through his hair with a free hand, the other has the back of his hand over his mouth to cover his watering mouth, and pulls on the longer strands like a switch.
Keith lifts his gaze with curiosity, meeting his. Lance can only think about how the hunter becomes the hunted, how he's totally fucked, how he enjoys every single part of whatever game this is, and how he wants to be a fucking mess by sunrise.
Keith chuckles maliciously, throws the wipe on the floor when he hasn't even finished cleaning, and Lance knows he's a fucking goner with the way he eyes him like the juiciest of fruits, the sweetest of liquor.
"Oh, you're my fucking slut," Keith whispers in heat, "Aren't you?"
Lance moans against the back of his hand, his gaze never leaving his. He nods, he nods, oh, he fucking nods.
Oh, how he wants this fine piece of half-galra man to fuck him into submission, teach him who he belongs to (it's Keith, it's always gonna be Keith) and have him pretend it never happened tomorrow when they meet up with Hunk and Pidge for breakfast, despite all the marks hiding under his clothing, the way he'll inevitably limp his way into the diner with a smile, the way Keith will act normal—laughing with his friends—while his hand slithers around his waist underneath the table like he owns him.
God, he's got a thing for possessive Keith, doesn't he?
Keith leans over, staring him down as he navigates the side table, finds the lube, and flicks the cap open. Lance looks at it as if it's electricity—shocking him to the core, and moans like the whore he is right now.
"I love you, baby," Keith rumbles, locked onto his prize.
Another moan rumbles through Lance's chest at the intensity, heightened by the whine that escapes alongside it, "I love you too, fuck, I love yo—"
Keith yanks the back of his hand away from his mouth and shuts him up with a hot, open-mouthed kiss; tongue first. He drowns his mind when the cut of a fang stings his lip.
Fuck, fuck yeah.
He's such a slut for Keith Kogane.
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