“And it’s Thace to Ulaz, to Kolivan, back to Ulaz –”
Keith would dearly love to concentrate on the ice hockey game on television, but it was hard, in all senses of the word, the sports commentator’s voice fading in and out like a constant stream of white noise in the background.
“Something wrong?” Shiro asked, lips swollen and shiny, peering up at Keith innocently.
Keith growled inarticulately, and shoved Shiro’s head back down.
It was date night, and Keith’s turn to pick a movie, and they were lying on the couch – or, at least, Keith was; Shiro had slid onto the floor some time between the first Marmora goal and the second, and at first Keith had been too engrossed in the game to really pay attention to what his boyfriend was up to. Shiro wasn’t a fan of sports, but Keith really wanted to catch this game, the one that’ll determine whether the Marmora Bats would advance to the Stanley Cup Finals.
Evidently, Shiro had other ideas.
Keith almost didn’t hear the sound of his zipper getting lowered over the excitement of the second goal, but he definitely couldn’t miss Shiro swallowing him down in one practised movement, deft fingers rubbing against the raised ridge at the base of his cock.
Keith groaned, slumping against the arm of the couch, fighting the urge to just thrust into Shiro’s mouth.
By the angelic smirk on Shiro’s face, that was exactly what he’d intended.
“Why?” asked Keith, almost plaintively, barely clenching a whine behind his teeth when Shiro pulled his mouth off with a soft, wet pop, licking his lips in an almost unconscious gesture.
“You weren’t paying attention to me,” he complained, eyes wide and lips pursed into a pout. It should, objectively, have looked ridiculous, but somehow it worked for him.
Keith hissed between his teeth. “I was watching a game, you heathen –” but he couldn’t finish his sentence when Shiro was looking up at him with large, bright eyes, lip stuck out just the slightest bit.
“I’ve missed you,” Shiro told him, and Keith just... melted, because what could he say in response to that?
Shiro smiled beatifically up at him, and went back to licking at Keith’s cock like it was a lollipop he really wanted to savour, sweeping his tongue over the vein on the underside, one hand toying with his balls, the other tracing over his perineum.
Keith couldn’t help it; he buried his hands in Shiro’s hair, guiding his head down a little further, a little deeper, watching Shiro swallow around his cock, eyes at half-mast, like he needed it.
“Fuck,” Shiro muttered, when he came up for air again. “Fuck,” he repeated, with some feeling. “Keith, I can’t – I, I need to touch myself –”
“Yeah,” Keith breathed, hoarsely, like he was the one doing the deepthroating instead. “Go, go ahead.”
His eyes went wide when the muscled forearm that’d been keeping his hips in place vanished. “Fuck my mouth,” Shiro gasped, sounding halfway to wrecked already.
With some difficulty, Keith managed to prop himself up on shaking elbows, to look his boyfriend in the face. There were two blotches of colour high on Shiro’s cheeks, whether from arousal or embarrassment Keith couldn’t tell, but he met Keith’s eyes steadily enough and nodded firmly.
Well, far be it for him to deny Shiro something he wanted.
He hitched his hips, slowly at first, feeling his cock hit the back of Shiro’s throat and then down, further, until he was buried to the hilt, Shiro swallowing convulsively all around him. Hiking a thigh over Shiro’s shoulder for better leverage, Keith withdrew a little, just enough for Shiro to suck down a breath, and then he started moving.
Shiro’s eyes were watering, but his arm was jerking rhythmically, and when Keith sped up a little more he moaned.
Keith nearly lost it at that, the vibrations all around him, blowing through any last reservations he’d had, until he was outright fucking Shiro’s mouth, hands fisted in his hair, yanking his head down to meet every thrust.
“I’m – I’m –”
Shiro drummed his fingers against Keith’s thigh, a signal they’d developed to show he heard, but he kept going, even though he must know that, that Keith was about to knot, been popping one every time they had sex lately, he couldn’t help it –
Keith thought he might have shouted out loud, but he couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of blood in his ears. He collapsed backwards, hitting his head on the arm of the couch, and didn’t even care. Through watering eyes he saw Shiro drop his forehead onto his stomach, but he could still feel the fingers squeezed tightly around his knot, the muffled vibrations from Shiro’s moan as his boyfriend came.
“HE SHOOTS, AND HE SCORES! GOAAAAAAL!!!”
Shiro’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, and Keith flapped an arm weakly at him.
“Not. A word.”