' ' I've Felt Worse ! ' ' Lance Hissed. The Wound Definitely Hurt, But He Wasn't About To Admit That

' ' I've felt worse ! ' ' Lance hissed. The wound definitely hurt, but he wasn't about to admit that to someone so pretty!

❝ Hey- are you okay? That looks like it hurts. ❞

"Good evening, Mister Yamato," Shiro beamed politely, eyes still a bit bleary from pain. The oven's timer started going off again and he excused himself quietly, darting off to the kitchen to remove the roast and veg from the oven.

"Perfect!" He muttered to himself, fixing two plates and making his way to the dining room with them. After setting them down, he approached the couch again and kissed the top of Alexis' head.

"Dinner's ready when you are, darling."

At first, Keith's breath rose and fell in line with Shiro's even and steady, but as the heat of the water and the spreading heat from each touch started washing over him, his breath became gasping and whining. He leaned into Shiro, fitting against him perfectly, once tensed body now relaxed and pliant. A soft, quiet moan escaped him, barely audible over the sound of the water, but radiating between them like forbidden music.

Keith's knees were weak by the time Shiro had finished, eyes half lidded and glazed over. Every nerve was on fire and there was little to nothing he could do about it but run his hands along Shiro's body, returning the glorious favor of washing him. He swiped a clean wash cloth off the side of the shower and began his work, keeping eye contact as best he could through the haze of heat.

"You're incredible," he mused, voice rasping and lust filled. "So strong, both physically, and mentally. You're an incredible leader, and an even more incredible partner." He was careful of scars that seemed newer than others, giving them a little extra love and care, trailing gentle kisses along the skin he could reach as he worked ever lower.

Keith clasped a hand over his own mouth to quiet himself down, cries threatening to be heard over the rushing of the water and the hot, wet slapping of skin against skin. The other hand idly dug sharp nails into Shiro's shoulder with enough pressure to sting, but not break skin.

He gasped, "close— gods Shiro—" His body was reacting on instinct, drawing Shiro in as deeply as he could manage with keening moans and cries of absolute pleasure. He'd been holding back his own orgasm in wait for Shiro, heat bloomed in his core, spreading through his body like a wildfire.

"Please," he breathed, back arching at the contact, his whole body was screaming for more. Keith's legs shook under his own weight as he turned in Shiro's arms to face him. Chest to chest he pressed himself ever closer, breath ragged and hot in the steaming water.

"I need you. Burning feeling...so hot..." nonsense was spewing forth at this point, his body acting on pure instinct. His hips rocked forward slightly, giving permission to go further if it's what Shiro wanted. A quiet muttering of "I promise I'll be quieter this time," passing between them.

Keith's eyes, clouded with lust, trailed over Shiro's body before coming to rest on his face once more. His lips, kiss bitten and parted, had a slight tremble to them to match his wobbling legs. His body temperature skyrocketed, burning hot in a matter of moments.

"Takashi..."

Hopefully. Shiro nodded, placing a hand gently onto Hunk's shoulder. "Thank you, Hunk. Let me know if you need help in the kitchens, okay? I'm more than happy to." He was never the best at diplomacy, but it was evident he was working on that. He supposed it helped he knew his way around planning.