[ if shiro looks like any kind of statue it's because the galra have shaped him this way, made his shoulders broader and his muscles more defined. he knows they had to have altered his bones, too, to take the new weight and stresses of this form. it still feels wrong to him how much stronger he is, how much faster his reflexes are, although it's a scary thought because he doesn't know how much of that is what the druids have done to him and how much is because of what he's done in the arena.
matt's changes might be frightening, too, having been altered for such an obvious, specific purpose, but all shiro can be is grateful that it might keep matt safe just a little longer. that the galra might consider him valuable, however awful the thought is.
or maybe it's that shiro can't help imagining what it would be like if matt was given to him. he could protect him. he could have him nearby, know exactly where he was. there's enough stallion instinct in him to want that desperately and unashamedly. he would like to keep matt for himself.
and the noises matt's making aren't helping, the expression on his face, the scent of him, aroused and waiting. shiro makes a strangled noise of his own and buries his face against matt's chest, his mouth seeking, nuzzling and nipping over the curve of matt's breast. he tells himself that this, at least, is something a human might do, something humans do for each other. ]
T-tell me. What you like, [ he manages, finding it hard to shape words with his animal instincts clamoring at him. ]
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matt's changes might be frightening, too, having been altered for such an obvious, specific purpose, but all shiro can be is grateful that it might keep matt safe just a little longer. that the galra might consider him valuable, however awful the thought is.
or maybe it's that shiro can't help imagining what it would be like if matt was given to him. he could protect him. he could have him nearby, know exactly where he was. there's enough stallion instinct in him to want that desperately and unashamedly. he would like to keep matt for himself.
and the noises matt's making aren't helping, the expression on his face, the scent of him, aroused and waiting. shiro makes a strangled noise of his own and buries his face against matt's chest, his mouth seeking, nuzzling and nipping over the curve of matt's breast. he tells himself that this, at least, is something a human might do, something humans do for each other. ]
T-tell me. What you like, [ he manages, finding it hard to shape words with his animal instincts clamoring at him. ]
Don't let me-- rush.