[ He wants to say that he maintains his cool during this, that he's able to keep his thoughts together, to plan this out but he knows that's both not possible and ridiculous all in one. Normally during a heat or a rut, it's impossible to keep thoughts straight; during one that's been delayed so long, he knows it'll be next to impossible.
It feels impossible the moment he catches the scent of Lance when that ridiculous robe shifts; he can feel the spot of wetness on his boxers, knows that he's just as slick from the idea of it, from the idea of Lance being there. Shiro buries his face in the curve of Lance's neck and grips at him tight enough he fears he'll leave bruises but can't stop himself, panting and shaking and rocking up against the thick line of Lance's dick pressed tight against him. ]
Lance, I can't, I'm- [ Oh god he really doesn't want to get come all over the insides of his boxers but Lance puts his mouth down against his nipple again and there's a touch of teeth in addition to the wet-hot warmth and that's it. Shiro tenses and whines quietly in the back of his throat, hips jerking in sharp, uneven movements, pulsing wet into the material of his boxers. It's not enough and he knows that; there's that horrible, empty feeling that he's never had before in addition to the normal rut where he wants to be inside something, someone but the orgasm helps, at least a little. Gives him enough sense that he can drop both hands down from Lance's hips to his ass and squeeze, directing him to roll his hips against the fat swell of his own cock, sliding slickly between the come and everything else. ]
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It feels impossible the moment he catches the scent of Lance when that ridiculous robe shifts; he can feel the spot of wetness on his boxers, knows that he's just as slick from the idea of it, from the idea of Lance being there. Shiro buries his face in the curve of Lance's neck and grips at him tight enough he fears he'll leave bruises but can't stop himself, panting and shaking and rocking up against the thick line of Lance's dick pressed tight against him. ]
Lance, I can't, I'm- [ Oh god he really doesn't want to get come all over the insides of his boxers but Lance puts his mouth down against his nipple again and there's a touch of teeth in addition to the wet-hot warmth and that's it. Shiro tenses and whines quietly in the back of his throat, hips jerking in sharp, uneven movements, pulsing wet into the material of his boxers. It's not enough and he knows that; there's that horrible, empty feeling that he's never had before in addition to the normal rut where he wants to be inside something, someone but the orgasm helps, at least a little. Gives him enough sense that he can drop both hands down from Lance's hips to his ass and squeeze, directing him to roll his hips against the fat swell of his own cock, sliding slickly between the come and everything else. ]