Messy First
The first time they had sex, Lance had nearly died in order to save Keith. Emotions had been high and adrenaline was still pumping through them. Each clumsy touch was filled with so much love, each kiss was desperate backed up with the fear of loss. It was as uncoordinated and messy as their first kiss had been, but the cravings to know each other, to fully know each others bodies outweighed the awkwardness of their movements. Sweat slipped down their skin and mixed together as their chests rubbed against each other. Lance was laid on his back, limbs coiled around Keith in a desperate attempt to keep him close. Each thrust hit the soft flesh of his inner thighs causing a slap to echo around the room, only to be drowned out by Lance’s sweet cries of pleasure. This was one of the times Keith wished Lance never shuts up, hearing the moans mixed with breathy sighs of his name and gargled messes of Spanish made his heart stutter. They were beautiful just like the man they were coming from. He panted wetly against the base of Lance’s throat, arms placed on either side of his head to brace himself as he rolled his hips into him. He knew there would be bruises and scratches in the morning if Lances nails racking down his back and the tingling pain in his hip bones were anything to go by but right now Keith couldn’t bring himself to care especially when Lance’s ocean blue eyes catch his deep lavender ones and his red, kiss swollen lip begin to sputter out begs and pleas of harder, faster, and “P-please, Keith touch me more.” Right now, Keith just wants to drown in the ocean that is Lance.
ruinedchildhood
