Oh fuck, fuck. [ he can smell it the second shiro comes as much as he can feel it, sudden warm wetness flooding the thin cotton between them. his mouth pops off shiro's nipple, grinding down into the wet mess and into shiro's grip on his ass, and he has to swallow a sudden rush of saliva as he realizes what he's supposed to do next. he backs out of shiro's hands and drops his face to the obscene outlined bulge of shiro's cock like he's being pulled down to it by a leash, nosing and mouthing almost frantically at it, tongue darting out to press against the wet cotton. the scent of it is overwhelming at close range and he looks up imploringly at shiro, panting and eager and flushed but either unwilling or unable to work the complicated machinery of pulling down a waistband. he wants shiro's hands in his hair again, he wants shiro to feed him his cock, he wants to lick and nurse until all that seed goes where it's meant to, inside lance. ]
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