Keith “I am so allergic to being vulnerable that I can’t orgasm with a partner” Kogane
#nsfw #sheith

Keith is so self-conscious around Shiro and he doesn’t want to let Shiro down and he’s nervous he’ll make a weird face or noise or make too much cum or he’ll say something wrong and he just. Can’t. Relax. Even though they’ve been making out for hours.
Shiro tries to get Keith through it by reassuring him specifically “I want to see what it looks like when you come, I want to hear you come, I want to see your face when you come” and it’s just not enough to break down Keith’s embarrassment.
Keith is panicking and nearly crying because he’s so hard and so close and he still can’t quite make himself come, even with Shiro’s reassurance, “I’m trying, please, fuck, I can’t come!” Shiro doesn’t mind, it’s their first time doing stuff together, of course Keith is nervous.
Shiro is warm and understanding when he offers to let Keith see him first. Even lets Keith jerk him off a little while he does it. And Keith gets to see him in that intimate, vulnerable moment. It’s so hot, it makes Keith feel so powerful, to know he affects Shiro this much.
It certainly helps—but it doesn’t fix everything. Keith struggles through another handsy makeout session, can’t quite get there, literally has to get up and finish jerking off in Shiro’s bathroom with his glove in his teeth to muffle his moans.
The next time, Keith at least lets Shiro hear him come, but not on purpose. He is immediately mortified at the ordeal of being so intimately Known.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to have sex,” Shiro tells him.

Keith shakes his head. “It’s not that, at all.”
The third time Keith goes for it, he’s in Shiro’s lap, jerking himself off, when finally—finally—he manages to pull it off, orgasms with a frantic “don’t look!” as he physically puts his hand over Shiro’s eyes and bites his lip.
Shiro doesn’t peek, doesn’t open his eyes under Keith’s fingers. He can’t hear his full-throated moan, all buttoned up in his mouth, but he feels the pulse of Keith’s balls against his thigh, the splat of cum hitting his belly. The praise is instant: “just like that, baby.”
FINALLY Keith lets Shiro jerk him off, but only if Shiro wears a blindfold. It’s the best thing he’s ever felt, but he can’t come for 45 minutes once he plateaus. Not because he doesn’t want to! But because Shiro will be able to hear him, and he’d honestly rather die.
It’s only when Keith’s about to literally cry in frustration from not being able to come that he lets himself climax, because crying at that point would be even more embarrassing than orgasming. A few tears slip loose anyway. Shiro kisses them away.
Keith has to clear the hurdle of Being In Someone’s Presence While Losing His Mind before he and Shiro can even think about anything more than handjobs. The way Shiro looks at him the first time Keith tries to give him head is too much, even though it’s all benevolent.
The way Shiro’s mouth feels when he reciprocates feels worshipful, and that feels wrong. It’s overwhelming. It’s too good. It’s more than he deserves. The guilt of having nice things weighs heavy on him until he’s so anxious he goes limp.
That doesn’t even compare to when they first start trying penetration. For the longest time, Keith’s hands shake when he tries to touch Shiro like that, so afraid of doing something that will make Shiro hate him or think he’s no good at this.
The first time Shiro tries to finger him, Keith panics. Shiro holds him through it, all soft, warm words and his human hand (still slick with lube) crawling up and down his back in a weighty, soothing sweep. “There’s something wrong with me,” Keith chokes out.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Shiro reassures him. “It’s normal to be nervous.”

“I just want to have sex with you like a normal boyfriend!”

“Then we’ll keep trying.” Like it’s that simple. “As many times as it takes.”

“As many times as it takes,” Keith echoes, smiling.
The first time they manage to have sex together isn’t anything like what they’ve been trying. It’s hot and fast and rough, an urgent, horny thing that started as dry-humping but has them rutting against each other like they could phase into one being like this.
Keith’s actually angry about the space between their stomachs when Shiro sneaks his prosthetic in to grab at both of them together. Keith joins his right hand, too, and then they’re both fucking into the tight grip of their own fingers, drinking in each other’s kisses.
“Want you to come,” Keith pants into Shiro’s mouth.

“With me,” Shiro says. Doesn’t ask—it has the lilt of a plea but the weight of a command.

It’s not even a question. Keith would follow him anywhere. And he follows Shiro here, too, finally without second-guessing it.
Keith is breathless. His shirt is filthy. And he lets out the peal of a laugh, throwing his arms around Shiro’s shoulders in relief.

~~~end 🧵~~~
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