[He'll grip a fistful of bedsheet, groaning unreservedly while filling Lance all the more -- this time with that warm liquid. When he retreats, he's still leaking some; a premature kickback to provide Lance with some faster relief, though he immediately regrets it, inwardly mourns the confines of...well, being inside of him. Some come smears along his thigh, groin, not a whole lot, but it's something he could probably feel. Even as Keith leans in for more kisses, breathing gruffly, unevenly, belatedly appreciating the sounds he'd been making, though drawing a connection between the two would be difficult.
He's just a sloppy affectionate mess now anyway.]
That was, [He begins, searching his face groggy with adoration.] nice.
no subject
He's just a sloppy affectionate mess now anyway.]
That was, [He begins, searching his face groggy with adoration.] nice.