[ He can't stop the way his mind seems to fog the more attention he gets from Lance, the more he touches him in return. He refuses to lose control entirely but there's no stopping the way he grinds their bodies together and has to force himself to stop and listen to Lance when he gives the other instructions.
His hands cross over his waist and he hooks his fingers in the material, tugging up and over his head and tossing it off to the side. He'll have to get it later, and normally, he takes the time to take it off and fold it to put back on again if it's the same night. That he's not bothering to fold it, but simply toss it on the ground is one of the few signs that he's not quite as controlled as he'd like to be. ]
I do. [ There's no doubt to his tone; they both know what the truth is and right now Shiro doesn't have it in him to argue the fact of it. He likely wouldn't die but it wouldn't be comfortable going through whatever this was alone. He did need Lance and it was only more obvious when he slips his hands underneath Lance's thin robe and is able to run his fingers along bare skin.
The noise he makes is somewhere between appreciation and contentment, rough hands skimming over the warm skin of his chest, up over his nipples and then back down again. Lance is saying he wants to touch him like there's any way Shiro would say no right now. He huffs out a laugh and smears a kiss against Lance's throat, rolling their hips together in slow, shallow pushes with each roll of his feet. There's no point in hiding it and Lance is so talkative that Shiro figures Lance doesn't mind hearing confirmation back: ] I want you to. Please.
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His hands cross over his waist and he hooks his fingers in the material, tugging up and over his head and tossing it off to the side. He'll have to get it later, and normally, he takes the time to take it off and fold it to put back on again if it's the same night. That he's not bothering to fold it, but simply toss it on the ground is one of the few signs that he's not quite as controlled as he'd like to be. ]
I do. [ There's no doubt to his tone; they both know what the truth is and right now Shiro doesn't have it in him to argue the fact of it. He likely wouldn't die but it wouldn't be comfortable going through whatever this was alone. He did need Lance and it was only more obvious when he slips his hands underneath Lance's thin robe and is able to run his fingers along bare skin.
The noise he makes is somewhere between appreciation and contentment, rough hands skimming over the warm skin of his chest, up over his nipples and then back down again. Lance is saying he wants to touch him like there's any way Shiro would say no right now. He huffs out a laugh and smears a kiss against Lance's throat, rolling their hips together in slow, shallow pushes with each roll of his feet. There's no point in hiding it and Lance is so talkative that Shiro figures Lance doesn't mind hearing confirmation back: ] I want you to. Please.