*just shance fluff*
*a splash of nsfw*
Lance's mouth.
Oh God, Lance's mouth.
Shiro couldn't stop his body from moving on its own accord; it felt like it had a mind of its own that hadn't stopped working the moment Lance had started leaving a hot trail of kisses down his chest towards the main goal.
The back of his mechanical hand was pressed tightly against his own lips, the surface growing moist with his own heated breaths. Shiro no longer knew if it was late at night or too early in the morning, he could hardly detect the feeling of soft sheets sliding further down his knees until he was completely exposed.
All his senses were focused on that hot expert mouth and the way that deliciously warm tongue moved, the tender caress of soft fingertips over his thighs, the vibrations coursing through his heated perception as Lance hummed happily, wet noises ruling over the silence of the hour.
Shiro's whole world was tilted off of its axis, his human fingers closing and tugging on lucious brown locks of hair as he slowly but surely lost control, hips bucking up, pressing himself harder into Lance's expecting mouth. All sense of reason leaving him, Shiro was unable to swallow back a series of loud moans, all short and breathy, his back lifting off of the mattress for a moment, the muscles of his thighs and stomach clenching as the levels of pleasure rose.
The sound of Lance's giggles was partially distorted as his throat was currently occupied, and it made Shiro groan louder, craving for more-needing more. But then Lance was letting go of him, lips red and slick with spit and precome, moving so that he was half on top of Shiro's chest, the loose closure of one hand barely a replacement of that sensual mouth. If only Lance would tighten his grip...
"Hush, Takashi," Lance whispered, lips following the strong line of Shiro's jaw, "we don't want to wake up the others now, do we?"
