[It's all. Natural. When you're hyperfocused on a certain thing; achieving a certain thing, helping someone else to achieve that certain thing. He's sealing his lips over his swollen head at that warning, bobbing his head, facilitating.
This is where the admiration (jealousy??) should end, because he's not at all ready when Lance ejaculates; he pulls back with a cough, not even far enough to avoid getting more on his face?! Face, chest (drippy) -- the upside to this is that the mess is immediately watered down. The downside is that. I dunno. His face is fulla cum and he's not even wiping it away because he's busy choking/pretending not to be choking.
[ it takes him a couple of seconds (more than, tbh) to regather his bearings. another more to get his breathing back in order, and by then he's able to stand on his own without having to use the tile wall entirely for support. by then, too, his hands have loosened around keith's hair, allowing the boy to lean back as much as he had. allowing lance the chance to finally look down once more, eyes opening for the first time in what feels like forever. ]
[Not that Lance needs more weight on him right now, but Keith's slumping against one of his thighs, breathing unevenly, swiping at his lips with a knuckle.]
I'm fine.
[Default response. He's fine from the hair-pulling, fine from choking on jizz (which is at the forefront of his mind, how embarrassing), nevermind being covered in it. His hand falls from Lance's dick, finally (just offering two or so final, subsequent pumps prior to their conversation here), setting it against his shin.]
[ he's not laughing...! he's. giggling. like a dumb boy. ]
Sorry, sorry, I just —
[ he pauses briefly, before letting out a low moan. he starts to slide down the wall, careful not to jostle keith too much, but he soon joins the other boy on the ground. takes up either side of keith's face with his hands. ]
God, you look so good.
[ he can't even help himself to stealing a kiss now, low and long. he doesn't even care that he's essentially... tasting himself. ]
[He looks like something drowned and jizzy, but if it appeals to Lance, it's fine. He can kind of anticipate what's to happen -- the kiss, and yet, it's not until after their lips are sealed together that he realizes: his mouth must taste like dick.
Whatever that tastes like. There's a taste and he's thinking of a hasty retreat...but only thinking about it. Lance doesn't immediately recoil, which is good. He's cupping at Lance's jaw as their liplock endures, his other finds a hip to idle against. If Lance thinks he looks good, imagine what Keith's thinking.
All about how somebody better put their food in the fridge before it goes bad.
The moaning's still fresh, ringing in his ears like a chorus of angels singing. Lance's skin feels soft and hot, even tingly under his fingers -- which might be more of a him thing. This is it. This is what it is to be in like-like with someone.
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This is where the admiration (jealousy??) should end, because he's not at all ready when Lance ejaculates; he pulls back with a cough, not even far enough to avoid getting more on his face?! Face, chest (drippy) -- the upside to this is that the mess is immediately watered down. The downside is that. I dunno. His face is fulla cum and he's not even wiping it away because he's busy choking/pretending not to be choking.
It's fine. He's fine.]
1/2
Keith... wow, sorry, are you oka—
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[ ...oh. ]
Eheh.
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I'm fine.
[Default response. He's fine from the hair-pulling, fine from choking on jizz (which is at the forefront of his mind, how embarrassing), nevermind being covered in it. His hand falls from Lance's dick, finally (just offering two or so final, subsequent pumps prior to their conversation here), setting it against his shin.]
Stop laughing.
[God..shouldn't he be on cloud nine somewhere?]
no subject
Sorry, sorry, I just —
[ he pauses briefly, before letting out a low moan. he starts to slide down the wall, careful not to jostle keith too much, but he soon joins the other boy on the ground. takes up either side of keith's face with his hands. ]
God, you look so good.
[ he can't even help himself to stealing a kiss now, low and long. he doesn't even care that he's essentially... tasting himself. ]
no subject
Whatever that tastes like. There's a taste and he's thinking of a hasty retreat...but only thinking about it. Lance doesn't immediately recoil, which is good. He's cupping at Lance's jaw as their liplock endures, his other finds a hip to idle against. If Lance thinks he looks good, imagine what Keith's thinking.
All about how somebody better put their food in the fridge before it goes bad.The moaning's still fresh, ringing in his ears like a chorus of angels singing. Lance's skin feels soft and hot, even tingly under his fingers -- which might be more of a him thing. This is it. This is what it is to be in like-like with someone.
How embarrassing.]