Give me -- just, shit, Lance, please, give me a second.
[ A second, a tick, something. Blindly, he gropes out, palming a hand through Lance's hair and misses the first two times. Coordination is out the window as he lies there, panting in the aftermath of his orgasm, but he's still hard. This, at least, isn't different than normal; he remembers this part. What's new is the scent of Lance, heady and overwhelming in the air.
His hand catches, finally, finding the back of Lance's head while he licks idly at the mess and cleans him up and then draws flat, bunching in his hair and fisting, tugging him back firmly but not harshly. He can feel his own slick on the insides of his thighs, wetting the blankets beneath him but it's the alpha part of him that wants to satisfy Lance, wants to stop him from grinding aimlessly against the covers when it's his job to make sure that he's satisfied during this. ]
Come here--
[ Moving is a chore but he manages to get himself out from under Lance and then they're both kneeling and Shiro pauses a moment, using that fist in his hair to tug his head back and kiss him, licking the taste of himself out of Lance's mouth. When he's done and has to catch his breath, he draws back, nodding toward the pillows. ]
I want - let me--
[ Shiro stops, endlessly frustrated with himself, pressing his face into the curve of Lance's shoulder, his scent grounding him. He's got a beta here, there's no rush, no one else is here.
His human hand drops down, curls loose around Lance's dick and then gradually tightens in a slow stroke but even with precome it's too dry to be comfortable, he's sure. His hand drops away and when it comes back, it's slick from himself and he angles him into another kiss while his hand circles around it again, tugging in slow, smooth pulls. ]
no subject
[ A second, a tick, something. Blindly, he gropes out, palming a hand through Lance's hair and misses the first two times. Coordination is out the window as he lies there, panting in the aftermath of his orgasm, but he's still hard. This, at least, isn't different than normal; he remembers this part. What's new is the scent of Lance, heady and overwhelming in the air.
His hand catches, finally, finding the back of Lance's head while he licks idly at the mess and cleans him up and then draws flat, bunching in his hair and fisting, tugging him back firmly but not harshly. He can feel his own slick on the insides of his thighs, wetting the blankets beneath him but it's the alpha part of him that wants to satisfy Lance, wants to stop him from grinding aimlessly against the covers when it's his job to make sure that he's satisfied during this. ]
Come here--
[ Moving is a chore but he manages to get himself out from under Lance and then they're both kneeling and Shiro pauses a moment, using that fist in his hair to tug his head back and kiss him, licking the taste of himself out of Lance's mouth. When he's done and has to catch his breath, he draws back, nodding toward the pillows. ]
I want - let me--
[ Shiro stops, endlessly frustrated with himself, pressing his face into the curve of Lance's shoulder, his scent grounding him. He's got a beta here, there's no rush, no one else is here.
His human hand drops down, curls loose around Lance's dick and then gradually tightens in a slow stroke but even with precome it's too dry to be comfortable, he's sure. His hand drops away and when it comes back, it's slick from himself and he angles him into another kiss while his hand circles around it again, tugging in slow, smooth pulls. ]