Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Maybe I’ll just bump it up a few more degrees. Just for during the scene,” Lance mutters to himself, one finger tapping his chin and the other hovering over the plus sign button on the thermostat.

“I’m not cold,” Keith calls, like he can read Lance’s mind.

Or like Lance has been fussing over it for the last five minutes.

“You aren’t now, but you might get cold later,” Lance calls back, squinting at the thermostat. He doesn’t want to kill the Earth (or their electricity bill), but…Keith. He bumps it up one more degree. “I don’t mind turning it up a bit for a few hours, I can just strip if I get too hot.”

“Seriously, I’ll be fine. Especially with these long ass socks you got me. For ‘warmth’.”  Keith kicks up one socked foot from where he’s lounging on the couch, typing on his phone. It’s a fairly obscene gesture in his current state of dress. Which is thigh-high black socks. Just the socks.

“Your feet get cold!”

“Yeah. True. My feet do get cold.” The current of humor in his voice says exactly how much he thinks that had to do with Lance’s choice when he saw them.

In past Lance’s defense, he was entirely correct about how hot Keith would look in them. And Keith is totally hamming it up. He didn’t have to get naked before their pre-scene check-in. The asshole’s just flaunting while he’s still in control of himself. Dicking around on his phone all sprawled out like he’s waiting for Lance to paint him. Which would be fun, if Lance could paint and also if he didn’t have other plans today.

Lance really wants to make absolutely sure he does everything he can to make Keith comfortable during this scene though. This’ll be the longest one they’ve ever planned and—

“Lance. I can hear your brain from here,” says Keith. “I promise I’ll speak up if I’m too cold, ok?”

“You better!”

His boyfriend has been gone for almost two weeks on a work trip. It was stressful and exhausting for Keith, and desperately lonely for Lance. He spent most of the time apart fantasizing about and planning this welcome-home scene. They both need it, he figures.

They go through their pre-check, going over the scene parameters they’ve negotiated, and then Keith hands over his phone. Lance silences his own, puts them both in the toy crate, and then takes out the long, thin black case that’s becoming his favorite.

“You ready?” he asks, unsnapping it and lifting the lid.

Keith’s eyes are bright and eager, also on the case. “Yeah.”

In the box is a black leather collar, padded with a heavy ring on the front. Keith turns obediently, lifting his own hair to bare his nape.

“Good boy,” Lance says. He carefully loops the collar around Keith’s neck, buckling it so that the ring sits at his throat and it’s snug but not too tight.

Keith’s not just his boyfriend and partner now. When the collar is on, he’s Lance’s toy.

Lance turns him back around, happily cupping his face and squeezing it a little to make his lips pooch out, and kisses him soundly. Keith happily kisses back but doesn’t move otherwise, arms loose at his sides, because he’s a good toy who knows the rules.

“No touching your dick today. We’re going to get you to come just from your ass,” Lance says, reiterating what they already agreed on, but with a squeeze of Keith’s rump for emphasis.

“Yes.”

“You gonna entertain me a little today?”

“Mmhm.”

“Awww, you feeling a little shy?” Lance pinches his reddening cheek. “Don’t worry sweetie, it’s just me.”

The corner of Keith’s mouth curls a little in a barely-there smile. “I know.”

“Yeah you do.” Lance hooks a finger into the ring of his collar to pull him in for another kiss, then releases him. “Alrighty, bend over and spread ‘em.”

A startled laugh bursts out of Keith, but he doesn’t hesitate, bending over the breakfast bar and pulling his buttcheeks apart to give Lance easy access.

Keith’s hole is tight and pink. Last night they were too eager to get their hands all over each other to get farther than grinding and handies. He taps at it with the pad of his forefinger, grinning when it twitches. “Yoooou are gonna get a ton of action today, buddy!”

“Don’t talk to –“ Keith starts, then cuts himself off.

Lance jabs him teasingly right in the taint, making him squeak. “That’s right, dolls don’t tell their owners not to talk to their holes. This is my fuckhole, I’ll do what I want to it.”

Keith’s fingers twitch, inadvertently dimpling his own ass, and his voice cracks a little. “Yup.”

“Such a pretty little hole. Love parking my hot rod in here.” Lance pokes and prods at him for minute, then sighs theatrically. “I’d love to spend all day with my cock in here, but I’ve got too much to do. Gotta do the dishes, got to clean the kitchen….”

Keith makes a little grunt of a sound like he wants to complain, but he knows better.

“Welp! It’ll be something to look forward to. I have to put down the toys for now, but I can reward myself when I finish some chores, yeah? And as for you, babydoll….”

Lance grabs the top towel off the stack he’s set up for today and lays it out in the corner on the kitchen floor like he’s spreading a picnic blanket. “On your knees, hand out.” He pumps out several squirts of lube into Keith’s palm. “Start opening yourself up while I find a nice peg to hang you up on.”

While Keith kneels on the towel, red-cheeked, and reaches back to finger himself, Lance strokes his chin and hums consideringly over the crate of toys he’s selected for today as though he hasn’t been obsessing over every element of this scene in daydreamy detail for the last week. He wants to start Keith off easy, of course, with something low-key that’ll get him warmed up to keep going for the long haul. Their neon pink starter dildo hasn’t seen much use lately. It’s the perfect thing to start with, not too thick but long enough to give Keith something to work with in an awkward position.

“Aha, perfect!” he crows dramatically, holding it aloft. The pink dildo wobbles in the air. “Show me that hole again, dollface.”

Keith bites his lip on a whine, shuffling around on his knees and getting down on one elbow so he can present his ass while still fingering himself open.

Getting himself a pump of lube, Lance squats down and nudges one of his own fingers in alongside the two that Keith is thrusting in and out of his hole. He’s slow and careful just in case he’s not ready yet, ready to stop at resistance or any sound of pain or a color call. “There’s that sweet little hole. Get yourself nice and open for me, baby, gonna have you fuck yourself on this while I do the dishes.”

Keith shoots a look at him over his shoulder.

“Don’t you make those puppy eyes at me. Toys don’t decide when they get played with.”

With a little pat to Keith’s tush, he gets back up and suctions the dildo to the fridge, right at about his own cock height. “There we go, that should do nicely. Keep you out of the way but ready to play with when I have time. Whenever you’re ready, cupcake. Got a spot for you all set up.”

It’s a good day. Lance has got his sweetheart back home with him, nowhere to be today, and he’s wearing his comfiest gray sweatpants and his favorite worn-in tank top. With a little upbeat music going on the speaker, he starts unloading the dishwasher. It could be any lazy weekend.

The only difference is that instead of slouching around in his own sweats and vacuuming and commenting on whatever auto race he’s put on, Keith is naked and flushed and carefully lining himself up with the dildo stuck on the fridge, about to fuck himself on it for Lance’s enjoyment.

“Oh, what am I thinking. Here.” Lance pumps out more lube and nudges Keith out of the way, getting the dildo nice and slicked up. “There we go, go on now.”

He watches with interest as Keith eases back onto it. It looks awkward. Keith’s got one hand pressed back against the fridge, the other hovering out in front of him for balance.

“Height ok?” It is very fun to watch him struggle a little, embarrassed and on display, but Lance doesn’t want him to slip in his socks and hurt himself.

“Y- yeah.” Keith’s face is beet red, but he’s being so good. Lance can’t resist pulling him in by the collar for a kiss.

“Alright! Don’t forget, you got a goal today. Gonna get that sweet sweet p-spot o! Get to it, babydoll.”

Patting him on the cheek, Lance gets to his own to-do list.

He empties the dishwasher, sorting out all the silverware and stacking plates and bowls in their cupboards. Dinner was a lot of leftovers while Keith was gone. Now that he’s back Lance is planning on making lasagna, so it’ll be good to have clean pans and freed-up counter space. A few things need to be rinsed before they can go in the dishwasher, because he’s not quite as on top of these things when it’s just him.

Washing the dishes isn’t so bad with some fun music and the ambience Keith is providing, though. He hums and dances along a little, finishing off a little shimmy by flourishing a dirty spatula at his toy as they go into the chorus.

Keith seems to have figured out a rhythm. He’s half-hard and flushed pink all down his chest. When Lance points over and looks at him, though, he lets his lips part, his desperate humping slowing to a sultry grind. Lance can’t help but laugh.

“Ooh baby. You trying to start something?”

“Mmmm.” Keith takes in a shaky breath as he drives himself back onto the dildo again with a little swivel, arching. “Is it working?”

“Pfft, you know you get me worked up, sweetcheeks.” Lance cocks his hip, knowing exactly how good the swell of his cock looks in the sweatpants. (Because Keith has talked about it before. At length. It’s kind of a thing he rambles about any time he has more than a few drinks.) “I think I need a white noise machine except it’s just your fat ass smacking the fridge. Or maybe not just a noise machine, I like watching it too. Just jiggling like jello.”

“You’re welcome to eat the jello.”

Lance fakes a big pout at him. “Oooh, sorry, I got all these chores to do. Can’t play with my toys until the work is done.”

He gets the dishwasher loaded, determinedly not looking at Keith’s sad puppy eyes (they’re hard to say no to on a regular day, let alone when he’s naked). Even when he’s not looking, the background track of Keith’s panting, the wet obscene sound of the dildo sliding in and out of him, and the clap of his ass slapping against the refrigerator are plenty to keep him motivated through washing the pots and pans that can’t go into the dishwasher.

When he chances a glance over to the fridge, the puppy eyes have been safely stashed away. Keith’s eyes have fallen closed, brow scrunched, his cock fully hard and bobbing as he fucks himself back against the dildo. Damn, he looks so good, even when he looks a little pathetic and ridiculous. Maybe more so because of that. Lance is absolutely dying to touch him but the anticipation is almost as good. He missed Keith so much while he was gone, and now he’s got him right here and is going to savor it, going to drag it out. The teasing and tantalizing tastiness of watching Keith get lost in his arousal and listening to his little horny sounds are going to make touching him that much better. For now Lance can take just little sprinkles of a taste, pinching Keith’s nipple or thumbing his lip as he passes by, and enjoying the thrill of just sauntering on by when Keith arches hopefully for more.

“Alright!” Lance slings a damp dish towel over his shoulder, taking stock. “Dishes are good. Ten points to Lancey Lance. You make a good motivator, babydoll. Next up…lunch. I better feed us, huh.”

Keith looks so darn hopeful as he approaches that he can’t give him nothing. Cupping his face, Lance kisses him full and wet, pouring in some of the want that’s simmering under his own skin. When he pulls away, Keith gasps out a lost little sound.

Lance grins wickedly at him. “Hang on now. I’m gonna open the fridge. Stay hung on your peg, ok?”

He has to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing at the incredulous look on Keith’s face when he takes the fridge door handle and starts actually pulling. With a yelp, Keith grabs back to hang onto the handle too, his other hand scrabbling over the smooth surface for purchase. Lance opens it slowly, so Keith can stumble along with the door without falling over or letting the plastic cock slip out of him.

He hums cheerfully as he rummages around, getting an armful of sandwich supplies. The door is shivering and shifting with Keith’s movements. Lance can hear him whimpering. Stifling another giggle, he gives the door a tiny jerk to fuck it into Keith, making him gasp.

“Asshole.”

“What was that, sweetieboo?”

“…Nothing.”

“That’s what I thought. Barbie dolls don’t backtalk. Hang onto your butt, I’m closing the fridge.”

Keith cusses under his breath as he shuffles back on his socked toes with his impaled booty perked up. Lance has a little bit of mercy. He closes it slowly, bracing to make a sturdy handhold when Keith grabs onto his shoulder and arm for balance. Keith is completely flustered, a scowl fighting against a deep flush at the humiliation of being moved around by his asshole. Lance kisses his nose, grinning.

“I’m a Barbie now, specifically?”

He lays out the sandwich fillings and condiments and fetches the bread from the cupboard. “You’re whatever kind of toy I want you to be. We had Barbies growing up, so I guess that’s what came to mind.” Setting out the cutting board, Lance arranges the bread slices and starts building. “Did you have any dolls as a kid?”

“Uh.” Keith seems to be struggling to collect his thoughts and build back up to a rhythm at the same time. “Kind of? I didn’t have many—many toys. I had….a couple foster sisters. For a bit. With dolls. Might’ve— been Barbies? I dun—I dunno.”

“You ever play with them?”

Keith chuckles breathlessly. “Oh yeah. They insisted. Fuckin’ brats. They were weird as fuck. We had—had a lot of doll funerals. I had to—t’make up fuckin’ doll eulogies. And sometimes—the dolls were werewolves? Even though they weren’t wolves? I don’t even know, man.”

Lance snickers. “Sounds about right. We got in trouble a lot for taking ours outside to be survivalists. I think I’d rather play normal doll games with you though.” He grins, spreading one of the sandwiches liberally with the fancy mustard Keith likes. “You’re much too precious to get mud on.”

“Normal, huh?” Keith says. Lance can practically feel his pointed look, as though to point out the complete non-normalness of him fucking himself on the refrigerator while Lance makes sandwiches. “What’s normal?”

“Dressing them up, obviously. C’mon, I know you’ve heard the Barbie song. Remember that time we let Pidge have the aux on the road trip to Flagstaff and they put it on loop to torture everyone?”

His voice drops, low and syrupy. “So you wanna ‘brush my hair and undress me everywhere’?”

Keith’s trying to tempt him again, pushing his fingers back through his own hair and grinding back on the pink dildo in smooth little circles.

“Mmm, that too,” Lance smirks, turning back to his sandwich construction project. “I could put you in all kinds of little outfits. Shave you smooth all over like plastic.” He wouldn’t, he likes the dark hair on Keith’s legs and forearms and trailing down the middle of his belly. But that’s not the point. The point is, Keith would let him. “Put you in heels and a little miniskirt with your booty out. Definitely keep the thigh highs. Or maybe garters.”

“Wow. Such fashion.”

“Doesn’t matter what you think is fashionable, only matters what I want to see,” Lance retorts, slapping the top slices of bread on the two sandwiches and cutting them into triangles. “Hey! I could observe another fine Barbie tradition and cut that mullet of yours.”

“You wouldn’t,” Keith scoffs. “You like—ah—my hair too much.”

“Ok, yeah, that’s true.” A smirk stretches across his face. “And I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of me using it like a handle when I fuck you.”

Apparently Keith has no smart remarks to make to that. He just shudders and makes a wanting sound.

“Okey doke.” Lunch is ready. Time to shift gears. “Soft time out for a second.”

He goes and wraps Keith up in his arms, halting his rhythm and peeling him away from the dildo. A string of lube trails between his quivering hole and the rubber dick still bobbing on the refrigerator door. They’re going to be finding spots of lube all over the kitchen for a week, aren’t they? Ah well, it’s worth it. He strokes a hand down Keith’s spine, feeling for knots and tension. “How we doing here? You cramping at all?”

“Not hurting yet. Getting a little stiff though,” Keith admits, melting into the embrace.

“Take a minute, baby. Stretch it out.”

“Thanks,” he groans. He lets him go and Keith curls forward, rounding his back and tilting back and forth, then drops forward into a fold, alternating the bend in his knees to stretch his legs.

“Of course. I gotta take good care of my toys,” Lance croons, caressing the round curve of Keith’s bottom. He pulls one cheek to the side. Keith’s hole is wet and red now, softer and looser. Lance gives his cheek a squeeze and jiggles it a bit. “Damn, your ass looks so good with thigh-highs. Feel better?”

“Yeah,” Keith sighs, still pedaling it out in small movements.

“Take your time. Thirsty?”

Lance holds the glass of water to his mouth and tips it in, hungrily watching the bob of his throat under the collar. When Keith’s had enough he thumbs a drip from the corner of his mouth. Keith is so hard it looks like it hurts, leaning into Lance like he can’t help himself. Lance indulges him with a kiss, but grips his bare hips and holds him in place so he can’t grind on him.

“Mmm. Look at this place, I got so much done. I think I earned a little break.” He pecks one last kiss to Keith’s nose. “Bend over the counter.”

By the restrained excitement in his face when he hurries to obey, perking his booty up eagerly, Keith thinks he’s about to get fucked. He visibly sags in disappointment when Lance picks a plug out of the crate instead. It’s a long oval one, with both length and thickness but a bit of soft give. Perfect to keep his toy full and open without effort.

He lubes it up and slots it briskly into Keith’s empty ass, making him arch and moan at the abrupt intrusion. After a few thrusts in and out, watching that flushed rim stretching and swallowing on the girth of it, he lets it go, letting it settle into place naturally. Keith keens with frustration, humping back slightly like he hoped Lance would keep going.

“Shhhh. We’ve talked about this, dolls don’t complain.” Lance pinches his ass. It’s hard to stop touching him. He’s so tempting, and Lance is so glad to have him back home. He humors himself for just a moment longer, tracing a line up the divot of Keith’s spine, ending with a soft tug on the collar. “Ok, let’s get you a towel to kneel on. On your knees, my little blow-up doll.”

Keith shakily obeys while Lance washes the lube off his hands, then leans against the counter in front of his toy.

“Spread your knees a little.” Lance picks up half of his sandwich and takes a bite. “Mmhn, yeah. This is a nice view. You look so good on your knees. Like you were born to be there.” He tugs the front of his sweats down, doing a funky little of hip tooch to make his half-chub pop out. “Mouth open.”

…Hm. He’d been planning to fuck Keith’s face, but he might need both hands for this sandwich. Wouldn’t want bits of lettuce and cheese falling all over the place. Lance did not think this through. Oh well, easily solved. “Suck me, sweetie. You can use your hands.”

This is actually an improvement on his original idea, Lance thinks. Lounging against the counter and eating his lunch while a sexy guy gobbles his knob is way better than trying to be coordinated while not dropping a sandwich, humping the sexy guy’s face without choking him, and looking suave and unaffected while he’s at it. Keith is slurping on him eagerly, leaning on the cabinets with one hand and fondling his nuts with the other, and after the teasing all morning it feels incredible.

Also Lance makes a mean sandwich, if he doesn’t say so himself.

“Man, this is the way to do it,” he comments. “I need to schedule a show like this whenever I eat.”

Keith doesn’t have a response to that, but his mouth is fuller than Lance’s right now, so he didn’t expect one.

Lance takes his time, enjoying his lunch and the accomplishment of getting some housework done. Finally, he sucks the last bit of mayo off his thumb. “Mm. You hungry, cutiepie? For something other than cock, I know you’re hungry for that.”

Keith is visibly disappointed to have to relinquish Lance’s dick, and interestingly, seems even more humiliated over being hand-fed the sandwich Lance made him than he did about ramming himself on their refrigerator. Hmmmmmmm. Lance will have to remember that for the next scene he plans. Despite (or maybe because of) the embarrassment, Keith is all enthusiasm as he licks the mustard off Lance’s fingers, eyes still fixed on his bobbing erection.

“Good?”

“Really good. Thank you.”

“Of course, sweetie. Got something else for you here.” Keith’s eyes light up. “Mouth open again. Tongue out.”

He strokes himself at a brutal pace, only pausing briefly for lube. Keith leans forward like he can’t help himself, neck straining under the collar, hips hitching slightly. Unable to deny him right now, Lance smacks his outstretched tongue lightly with his cockhead. “Give it a little kiss, Barbiedoll.”

Keith practically falls on him with permission given. He eagerly mouths at the head and foreskin, making wet little whimpering sounds as he licks pre out of Lance’s slit. Keith is stunning like this, collared and hard on his knees. Lance has been simmering hot all morning, with his little toy fucking himself right there in his peripheral, and now that he’s allowing himself release he’s speeding toward orgasm at a blinding rate.

Lance pulls back slightly and shucks his cock quickly over his toy’s upturned face, gritting his teeth on a groan as he comes. Keith’s eyes fall closed, brows pitching up and lip trembling as the thick load splatters him. A few fat stripes of jizz land on the side of his nose and chin, but most of it falls across his lips and his tongue. Lance has to grit his teeth and take a few breaths, pulling himself together before speaking.

“This is a good look on you,” he comments, when he’s sure his voice won’t shake. “Collar, socks, and spunk. That’s an outfit you could take anywhere.”

Those huge dark eyes open flutter open. They beg him wordlessly. Damn, Keith is so hard to resist when he’s horny and wanting, his wicked tongue still out and puddled with cum.

“Swallow it,” Lance orders. Those pink lips close, Keith’s throat bobbing under the collar. “Good. Show me.”

Keith obeys, opening his mouth wide to show he’s swallowed everything he was given. Lance takes him by the chin. He smears his thumb across Keith’s spunk-glazed lower lip and slides it into his mouth, rubbing it into his tongue.  

“Such a pretty toy. Maybe I’ll cream your other hole later. Or this one again,” he muses. “You’re such a fun cumdump, baby. So many ways to play with you.”

Keith shivers in his grasp, looking hopeful. It’s almost a shame to make him wait again.

Almost.

“Welp. Good break. Back to work!”

‘Back to work’ means Keith is once again nailing himself on a fake silicone cock instead of a real one while Lance cleans the kitchen. At least this time he’s on his hands and knees on the floor, not struggling to balance against the goddamn refrigerator. Lance stuck this dildo to the end of the breakfast bar, which is just narrow enough that Keith can slot his legs on either side and sink his ass all the way to the base of the toy if he spreads them wide. It’s bigger than the first and one of Keith’s personal favorites, because it’s got a knobbly, bumpy texture that feels amazing on his rim and fat squishy silicone balls that his own balls slap against every time he humps back on it. 

Keith is determined to achieve a prostate orgasm today. He’s had one before, just once, so he knows he can do it. It took a long time and he had to be really relaxed and in the right headspace, but Lance helped him get there so he knows it’s physically possible. It was the best orgasm he’s ever had, full-body waves of euphoria that shook him down to the bones, and he’s dying to do it again. He’s even read about people chaining them, coming again and again without a refractory period. That would be incredible.

Keith is so damn grateful that Lance is giving this to him. It felt like a selfish thing to ask for, after how much time and effort it took the first time. And then he came back from his work trip and Lance came at him with a clipboard and this whole scene idea planned out.

It’s different, when he’s got the collar on. When Lance is telling him as his owner, and not just offering as his boyfriend. It doesn’t feel selfish, it feels like surrendering.

Fuck, he thinks he might get there soon. He’s actually close. Keith is so damn turned on, so humiliated and hyperaware of his vulnerability and so sensitive all over, it feels like just the barest brush against his cock would set him off. He’s not supposed to touch it, not supposed to jack himself, but if— he can’t get low enough for it to tap the ground, no matter how much he arches and squirms, but if he puts his arm underneath himself, and his dick just happens to brush against it—  

“Uh oh. What’s going on over here,” comes Lance’s voice, in the tone of someone catching a pet getting into the bag of food.

A bare foot taps his shoulder. With a colossal effort, Keith freezes, head down and trembling. He’s so fucking close to coming. It takes every ounce of willpower he’s got to not move.

“Look at me.”

Cringing with shame, Keith obeys.

Objectively Lance shouldn’t look forbidding, in his sweatpants and bright yellow rubber gloves with his hair all messy. But the fond humor is gone from his voice. It’s just stern and disappointed. Lance looms over him, hard and sharp and authoritative, and the collar is like a brand around Keith’s neck. He feels an inch tall.

“You were trying to come from your cock.”

He can’t deny it. And it wasn’t a question anyway. Keith doesn’t dare drop his gaze but his shoulders sag.

“Up on your feet. Hands behind your back.”

The fat press of the dildo sliding out of his ass leaves him feeling loose and empty and unmoored. The wetness of lube drips down his thighs, cooling quickly. He gets stiffly to his feet on shaky legs and feels unbearably exposed.

“Get soft,” Lance commands. “I’ll give you sixty seconds before you get spritzed with cold water to lose the hard-on.”

The cold spritz is going to be entirely unnecessary. Lance’s disappointment on top of the lack of stimulation is utterly crushing, killing his arousal stone dead. He clasps his hands behind his back and grips them hard, trying not to cry.

Behind him he hears Lance stripping off the rubber gloves and washing his hands, then rummaging through the toy box again. When his owner comes back to stand in front of him, Keith’s breath catches.

He’s got the cock cage in his hands.

“Good,” Lance says, not quite curt but not quite warm either, when he sees that he’s soft.

Lance’s touch is devastatingly perfunctory as he lubes up Keith’s flaccid dick and eases the base ring over his junk. He squishes Keith’s soft flesh down into itself, a fraction of the size of his normal erection, then fits the black plastic cage over it. The cage and ring click together and Lance locks them, sticking the key in his pocket.

It’s going to be even harder to come with the cage on. Keith has never done it. After trying so hard to come from his ass for however long he’s been at it today, it feels impossible now. Despair drags at his stomach. Usually Keith likes wearing the cage, likes putting his orgasm solely in Lance’s hands, but he hates that he had to resort to it today.

All Keith had to do was not touch his dick, and he couldn’t even do that. His eyes prick with tears.

Fingers chuck firmly under his chin. “Hey baby. It’s ok,” Lance says soothingly, his eyes warm. “Look at you, pretty doll, with your cute little locked nub and your sloppy holes. You’re still my favorite toy.” He gives the collar a gentle tug. “I’m in control of this situation. I left part of my toy hanging loose, it got in the way, and now it’s put away nice and safe. Problem solved. Everything’s alright, pretty thing. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Keith’s got the collar on. He breathes easier as he hangs onto the thought. Unless and until he safewords out, he’s Lance’s belonging to do whatever he wants with. And Lance’s to manage and take care of. He doesn’t have to figure it out or solve any problems while he’s a toy. Lance will decide what he gets and give him what he needs to make it happen.

“Such a good little doll. Yeah, you’re getting down in it, huh?” Lance croons, pecking a kiss to his lips. Reaching behind him for a paper towel, he dabs gently under Keith’s eyes. “There we go, all better.”

Lance stays a while, getting him worked back up, peppering his face with kisses and flicking his nipples until he’s straining in the cage and whimpering against Lance’s mouth. He wants so desperately to hold him or be held, but Lance told him to keep his arms behind his back and he’s already had to be corrected once.

Like he can read his mind, Lance wraps an arm around his shoulders in a loose hug, petting his jaw with the other hand.

“What’s your color, Keith?”

Keith leans into the embrace. “Green.”

“Ok. Thank you for telling me.” Warm lips press to his cheek, and then Lance pats him crisply. “Alright you, back to the floor to keep working your ass. Oh, here. I’ll get you lubed up again.” He schlucks several more pumps of lube over the dildo, the sound of it downright nasty. Keith wants those slicked-up hands on him so bad. “There we go. Keep at it, dollface. Remember, you can still come any time you want. Got it?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, getting shakily back down to his knees, ears burning.

The cage always takes him a while to get used to. While he’s soft it doesn’t hurt, but doesn’t feel good either—it’s mostly just heavy, a weight pulling at his crotch. The sensation is very strange and very hard to ignore: an inflexible reminder that his cock isn’t his. Nothing is his while he’s wearing the collar. He’s just a set of holes and a body for Lance to tease and prod and watch for his entertainment, a treat for Lance to reward himself with.

He’s distantly aware of Lance moving about the kitchen, the sound of his music. Keith closes his eyes, lets himself get lost in physical sensation. The slow sinuous roll and plunge of the dildo deep inside him, the texture of it against his stretched rim. The hard linoleum floor under his hands and knees and toes as he rocks back and forth. The faint chill of the room on his skin, bare except for the collar and thigh highs. The warming plastic of the cage trapping his cock. He’s definitely aroused again, but instead of his dick feeling hard it’s just throbbing, like he’s held in a tight, merciless grip. Like Lance has got him in a merciless grip. 

He’s well on his way into a staticky, horny daze when a loud pounding on the door cracks it right through.

At first Keith hopes he imagined it.

“Oh shoot,” Lance says, freezing in the middle of wiping out the microwave. “Who the hell could that be?” He recovers quickly, holding up a finger and heading to the door. “Butt to the wall. Hold still a minute, babe.”

Keith freezes again, this time doused in horrified chills. He trusts Lance, of course, but they can’t control for everything. Oh god, what if something’s happened to someone they know? He’s naked and locked with a plastic cock up his butt. Right in the middle of the open kitchen and living room space where they hang out with their friends. Were they expecting anyone? No, surely not—

Whatever Lance sees through the peephole makes him relax. “Just a second!” he calls out, padding over to Keith and lowering his voice. “I’ve just got a little business to handle. If my little toy can be quiet, keep going and don’t interrupt the people. If not, keep your butt to the wall and wait.”

And with that, Lance trots off again and throws open their apartment door.

“Hey, sorry about that. Oooh, a package!”

All it would take would be for someone to take one step into the apartment and look sideways. He can barely hear the delivery person, just the quiet mumble of an unfamiliar voice responding to Lance’s chattering. It seems to take him forever to sign for the package. They’re going on about the weather. Having some kind of technical difficulty with the verification. Making fucking small talk.

Lance’s chore playlist is still playing. He probably can’t be heard over it, right? His breathing seems so loud and wanton in his own ears, shuddering in and out.

Despite that, or maybe because of it, it feels physically impossible to stop easing back and forth on the dildo. It’s difficult to hit his prostate at this angle, but the stretch is delicious. His rim feels so tender and swollen, quivering with every bump and knobble of the dildo’s texture, and having his cock caged only heightens his awareness of his hole.

Lance would never involve a stranger in this scene, Keith is certain. At least not some random asshole just trying to do their job, who hadn’t had a chance to get involved consensually. But he could, and there’d be nothing Keith could do about it. Lance would never, but it’d be out of consideration for the stranger, not for Keith’s privacy or dignity. Toys don’t have privacy or dignity. Trembling with arousal, Keith lowers quietly to his elbows, dropping his head to bite his knuckles. All it would take would be a couple words, and Lance could invite them to peek around the doorway, and they’d see what a shameless, desperate thing he is.

Fucking finally Lance closes the door with a cheery “Thanks, bye!” and comes to check on Keith, a box tucked under his arm.

“No need to ask if my toy is having fun,” Lance laughs, ruffling his hair. “Damn, even caged you’re dripping.”

Keith peers down under himself. It’s true. Clear precum is drooling through the cage, leaving shiny drops on the linoleum.

“Here I’m trying to clean this place up and I left my toy leaking all over the floor. Whoops,” Lance says ruefully. The hand carding his hair tightens to a fist, yanking him upward. Keith gasps, lurching up on his knees, back arching to stay pinned on the dildo and the cage bouncing between his legs. The base of his dick flexes like it’s straining to get hard, but there’s just nowhere for it to go.

Much more interestingly, the heavy line of Lance’s cock in his sweats is right in front of his face. A sudden bright trill of excitement zips up his spine. Maybe Lance will let him blow him again.

“You feeling good, slutty thing?” Lance coos. “Show me, baby, show me how good you feel.”

He does feel good. Keith writhes back on the dildo, relishing the drag and press of it against his walls. In this half-kneeling position Lance has pulled him into, the tip jabs right against his prostate when it fucks in. That’s all great on its own, but the sting of Lance’s fist in his hair and the heat of his eyes raking down Keith’s body catapult his libido to another level. Keith lets his mouth drop open, lets out the wanton sound his throat can’t help but make, knowing Lance wants to see and hear everything he’s feeling, wanting to let him see and hear all of it.

“Mmmm, yeah, I can tell you have a great angle right there. Looks like you’re feeling so good. Love seeing you all horny and happy. You’re getting me hard again, babydoll.”

Lance crowds closer, right into Keith’s space – no, not his space. Keith doesn’t have space right now, people have space, not toys. The hand clenched tight in his hair mashes his face against Lance’s clothed crotch. Soft fabric stretches tight, with his nose crammed against the base Lance’s cock and the fat length of it hardening against his cheek. The musky smell filtering through the sweatpants makes him moan. Lance grinds against his face, like he’s a horny teen and Keith is a convenient pillow.

“The sounds you make, baby, damn. You just exist to be used, huh? Never happier than when you’re getting played with.”

The heat in his gut coils tighter and tighter. His prostrate is getting drilled, his cock throbbing with nowhere to go, and Lance. Lance humping his face, using him, wanting him—he loves it. Keith clings to his owner for balance, gripping the forearm of the hand gripping his hair and his knee, hips hitching aster and faster. He’s getting close again, chasing after it with mad abandon. He’s allowed to come, Lance has said so, it’s right fucking there. It’s right fucking there. It’s right…it’s….

It’s not happening. His thighs are tiring. The arch of his back at this angle is hard to maintain and starting to hurt. The sharp goodness of his prostate is starting to shade into discomfort, that fuzzy line between pain and pleasure that’s more confusing than good. Keith’s rhythm stutters and slows.

It’s not fair. He’s so turned on but it’s like his whole body is like his dick, straining but trapped and unable to get to where he’s trying to go. Keith collapses against Lance, nuzzling into the comfort of his warm crotch to fend off the despair welling in his core. The edge that felt like oncoming orgasm is slipping out of his reach faster than he can catch it.

A sob of frustration jags out of his chest.

The hand in his hair, scratches at the base of his skull, still pushing him against Lance’s hard-on but gentling. “Hey baby, what’s up? What’s got you all upset?”

“Can’t come,” he croaks. “Almost had it.”

“Awww, it’s ok. We’ve got all the time in the world.” Lance hooks a finger in the ring of his collar, giving it a gentle tug. “I’m almost done with chores. Soon I’ll be able to play with my dolly. You sexy, horny little thing. You’ll get yours. Gonna use my little toy and have a grand old time. C’mon. You need a little break.”

“Don’t need a break,” he grumbles.

“Toys don’t decide when they get breaks,” Lance reminds him. “Also I need to mop the floor, because my blow-up doll leaked everywhere, and you’re in the way.”

Keith drinks the water he’s given and lies down on a towel on the couch as directed. He’s still feeling a bit fuzzy. A kiss drops onto his forehead, making him hum happily and rub his socked feet together. “You cold? Want a blanket or a hoodie?”

“No, ‘m good,” he mumbles. “Feels warm.”

“Good. Have a lie down, play with yourself. Here, hook your foot up on the back of the couch so I can see your sloppy hole. There we go. I like watching my toy slut it up a little.”

The living room and kitchen are one big open space, separated by the breakfast bar, so Keith can see Lance puttering about from here. He watches in a daze, legs spread wide, thumbing at his nipple and wishing it was Lance touching him. Oh right, he was told to finger himself. He swirls his fingertips over his slick, exposed hole. It feels really good. Lance is spray mopping the kitchen, still bopping to his music as he goes, head bobbing and gesturing energetically with his free hand. He’s so happy and free when he dances. Keith missed him so much while he was out of town. It’s nice, just being able to look at him.

Lance comes over to the living room, bringing the box that came in the mail. Then he starts…moving the rug? Keith feels a distant frisson of amusement at his outrageous expressions as he grapples with the rug, moving it to wherever it is he wants it right now. Now he’s rifling through the toy crate again.  

Keith slips three fingers into his ass, shifts and sighs. He wants Lance inside him. Mmm. He bites his lip, rubs just inside his rim.

Lance is sticking yet another dildo to the floor, right next to the coffee table where he’ll have a perfect view from the couch. The fake cock is one of their biggest, with thick, heavy ridges and a wickedly flared head. Keith squirms a little, lips parting and fingers curling inside himself as heat pools in his belly. Lance’s long-fingered hands wrap around the dildo, smearing it generously with lube, jacking up and down. On instinct his legs spread a little wider, hips grinding up against nothing. He’s nearly delirious with how bad he wants Lance to touch him, but it’s like he’s been reminded so many times today: Keith is just a toy to be used. He’s going to have to wait until his owner decides to play with him.

“Alright, got you a spot to hang out while I unbox your new accessory!” Lance says cheerfully. “I thought I’d have to stick with one of our old vibes but it showed up just in time.”

There’s a nest of towels around the suctioned dildo – to keep him from dripping all over the floor again, probably. Lance directs him to crouch over it, letting Keith cling to him and sticking his own fingers inside to lead the way for the flared head of the toy as he slides down and down. Oh, it’s so good, Lance’s touch and familiar smell and the bulging ridges of the dildo plucking at him. With Lance’s guidance he lifts up, drops down again, moaning at the raw pressure of being full again.

“Perfect,” Lance says, pleased, when he lets him go and Keith keeps going, bouncing on the plastic cock. “You just fuck yourself right there while I do a little unboxing.”

He does, but his attention is fixed on Lance, sitting on the couch with his knees spread as he leans forward, the bump of his erection visible in the stretched fabric. Apparently much less focused than Keith is on his own hard-on, Lance cuts open the box and starts taking out layers of plastic packaging. Keith braces a hand on the coffee table as he keeps up his task, squatting over and over on the giant silicone dildo. He’s terribly curious about what Lance has got. It’s got to be something they’d already negotiated in a broad sense or Lance wouldn’t introduce it mid-scene like this, but he’s eager to see what his owner has planned.

It does not disappoint. The thing Lance unpacks is a really luxe-looking prostrate massager, with two fat bulbs and a handle.  Lance examines it, looking pleased, then unfolds the paper that comes with it and spends what feels like hours fucking reading it.

“Hmmm. Doesn’t take batteries, I gotta charge it. Gonna have to wait some more, honeybunny.”

There’s a keening sound, which Keith realizes belatedly is him. Lance just grins at and gets up to go deal with the massager.

“That’ll take an hour or so,” Lance informs him when he returns, flopping back onto the couch. “But that’s ok. We’ve got all day.” He points the tv remote, turning around and apparently clicking around for something to watch.

Not time to play with Keith yet, then. Ok. Letting his head drop forward, he falls into the rhythm, not sure what Lance is doing but secure in the knowledge that he’ll take him when he wants him. His caged nub is flopping up and down ridiculously and he’s not hitting his prostate at all like this, but that doesn’t matter. It’s a big toy and crouching on it like this it drives into him deep and hard, just short of overwhelming, sinking him into that staticky space a plunge at a time. Lance loves this hole, loves it used and gaping, and it’s getting looser with every stroke. The thought has him leaking in his cage again. He’s got no clue how long it’s been and he’s not sure how long he can keep this up, thighs burning, but that’s not his problem to figure out.

“Ok!” Lance’s voice hits him like lightning. His owner is finally wiggling out of his sweatpants, chucking them carelessly onto the armchair. “Chores are done. Show is on. New accessory is washed and charging. Think I’ll entertain myself while I wait. C’mere, toy. I’ve got a use for that sloppy hole.”

It takes a few moments for the meaning of the words to come through. When it finally filters in, Keith feels like his chest is filling up like a balloon of happiness. Achingly slow, legs trembling, he braces on his knees and pulls up and off the silicone cock, gasping a little at the squelching sound it makes as it pops out and the horrible emptiness it leaves behind.

“Such a good toy. C’mon, babydoll,” Lance says warmly, holding his hands out to him. Keith goes to him shakily, catching Lance’s hands in his, and then gladly letting Lance take over, reeling him and turning him around. “Show me that gape.” Keith bends, legs trembling, and pulls his cheeks apart again for inspection. Lance groans. “Heck, yes. Such a perfect hole for me. I feel so spoiled, having such a cute little toy all to myself.”

Keith can’t think of anything to say to that. He doesn’t need to. Lance can do all the talking. All the doing. All Keith has to do is let him, and it’s easy, so easy. Hot fingers slide into the soft swollen wreck of his hole, scalding and wonderful. “That’s how you know a toy is well-loved, you know, when it’s been used so hard it’s ruined a little. A well-used hole is a well-loved hole. Never gonna get tired of this sloppy little stroker.”

A kiss smacks on his asscheek, and then firm hands are pulling him down and back. Keith goes, moaning at the hot hot wet touch of Lance’s cockhead to his sensitized hole, and then the smooth slick slide of it in and in and in. Lance’s cock isn’t as long or thick as the last dildo he had Keith bouncing on, but it’s so warm and it’s Lance’s, ticking his pulse against Keith’s rim. It’s not even comparable. After what feels like hours of fucking himself on plastic, he melts into the heat of being both filled and enclosed by his person. It’s a luxury, the delicious warmth of Lance’s chest against his back, lap to his bottom, long hands hooking under his knees and urging him to lean back into his owner and plant his own feet on the edge of the couch, pinned shamelessly wide by Lance’s spread thighs.

“Mmmmm yeah. The perfect fucktoy,” Lance moans against his ear. “So silky and hot on my cock.” Kisses pepper down his cheek, before Lance sucks his earlobe into his mouth, then bites it. Keith’s lips part, not even a cry coming out. It feels so good, so right, he does feel so used and well-loved right now, just cradled by Lance with the long, fat shaft of his cock impaling him. His own locked nub is irrelevant. It might as well not be there. The whole thing about getting off as many times as he wants, about trying to come from his ass again – it no longer matters either. Lance will decide if and when and how he comes, and what Lance wants is all that matters. He’ll give and take whatever he pleases and all Keith has to do is float and savor it.

Lance doesn’t even fuck him. He just holds Keith in place like that, warming his own cock, and touches him. Fingers trail feather light over his eyelids and the bow of his lips, trace the tendons in his neck and the edge of the collar holding him together. They pinch and play at his tender inner thighs and just under the tops of his thigh-high socks. Keith sighs and moans, squirming on Lance’s cock, overwhelmed with the pinwheeling feeling of being cherished.

“So lovely, my little jar of marshmallow fluff. I could just touch you forever. I think you would like that too, huh?” Hot fingertips play over the cage trapping his cock, sensation sparking as they brush over the tiny exposed areas of his straining flesh. “You’re leaking like a faucet.”

Lance smears his fingers through the fluid, then touches them wet to his nipples, pinching and pulling and making lightning spark up and down his body.

“You started dripping like this when the guy came by to drop off your new accessory, babydoll.” Lance hitches his hips a little, making Keith’s breath catch as the almost-thrust inside him. “You like the idea of someone seeing you like this? Someone other than me?”

A whine creaks out of his chest, and he feels his locked dick flex helplessly.

“I know you know you belong to me.” Teeth scrape over his neck and jaw. Those fingertips return to playing with the cage, Lance’s cock nudging slightly in and out of his used hole. “My little fucktoy. But it’s good manners to share, isn’t it. Maybe that’s what I should do sometime. You’re such a fun, pretty thing, it seems a crying shame to keep you all to myself. It’s selfish, isn’t it. Maybe I’ll have a little playdate. Invite some of my friends over and share my toy with them.”

Fuck, he’s so turned on right now. He wants so bad to grind and get pressure on his prostate, but it’s like he’s flying underwater, watching that feeling through soft glass and simmering in it, skin lighting up as Lance’s fingers come away slick from his locked-up nub again and skate a cool trail up his belly. The slight nudging has become a soft rolling grind, still not enough to be called fucking, just Lance enjoying the feel of his hole on himself. Teasing himself with Keith’s body.

“You like that idea, huh? Your little nub practically gushed. You want to be used by anyone I feel like sharing you with? Wanna be played with rough? Or do you just like being mine so much, you like me deciding what you get no matter what it is?”

“Aaahhh….” He’s not sure if he’s capable of speech right now, but it’s the truth, it’s true.

It’s becoming familiar, this thrumming of arousal filling up his core like a well dug deep enough to hit groundwater. He knows better now than to think he’s going to come like this, but he’s humming with sweet energy and feels like the slightest touch could set him off if Lance decided it was time. Lance has him, and that’s enough. He’s the whole world right now, and Keith is euphoric to be living in it.

“Fuck, baby. You don’t know what you do to me.” Those hands have been teasing, but suddenly they grip his inner thighs hard, nails denting into his skin. “God, I want you so much, all the time. You gorgeous fucking thing. So glad you’re mine, baby, so lucky…”

Keith is gone, man.

He’s so beautiful in subspace, lashes like butterflies and lips parted, making soft little sounds when Lance’s fingers brush a sensitive spot, his usually tense body lax against him. Even his muscular thighs, initially tight from bouncing on that damn dildo, have gone completely relaxed. Lance feels hyper aware of him, in tune with every twitch and sigh, like there are invisible wires connecting every cell of him to his sub. It’s so nice after over a week of absence to just hold him like this, leaking like crazy and twitching around Lance’s cock and feeling so good.

The massager should be charged by now. He’s so pumped that it arrived today. Lance ordered it while planning today’s activities and he’d been hoping it would get home before Keith did. When that failed he hoped that it would show up before today. And then resigned himself to making do. But then as luck would have it, it slid in just in time! Even added a bit of spice to the scene when it showed up. This scene would have worked fine without it, but Lance really wants to give Keith that ass orgasm he wants so bad, and from all the reviews he’s read this sucker makes it a heck of a lot easier. Maybe Keith’ll be a little less shy about asking for it if it seems like less of a hurdle to him.

First, he double checks the cock cage, because Keith is in no state to respond coherently to a color check. They’ve never used it for very long at a stretch. It’s supposedly safe but Lance always worries about it. Upon examination, though, everything looks good. No signs of chafing, balls ruddy purple but not alarmingly so, and still dripping like a hose.

“Flipping you over, sweetie.” Keith kind of moan-hums in response, then makes an absolutely tragic sound when Lance’s cock slides free of him. But he still obediently slumps over the back of the couch like a handful of cooked spaghetti when Lance carefully tips him over and up.

“I’m right here. You just stay put.” He keeps a steadying hand on Keith’s hip as he stretches to unplug the now-charged massager—thank god his arms are so long—then settles back.

Lance clicks through the settings with interest, testing it against his own leg. The vibe comes with a remote, and that’s definitely something to play with later. One of the features that had been praised so highly were the two vibrating motors, one in each bulb. They are just as intense as promised. Lance grins. This is going to be incredible.

It’s also loud as hell. “Damn, baby, the neighbors are gonna think someone is mowing the lawn instead of me just mowing your ass,” he snickers. “Not gonna lie, I kind of wants to stick it in myself. You’re gonna love it.”

He runs the massager up the back of Keith’s leg. It makes him twitch as it buzzes through the fabric of his sock, then squeaks and spreads his legs wide when it hits skin. “Yeah, you like that, huh?”

“Ahhhh!” His horny little toy arches his back, bunting back against the vibe.

“You want this is in that slutty hole? It’s been stuffed all day and still hasn’t had enough. Such a great view. I need you in the background fucking yourself all the time. You’re motivating as hell, babydoll.”

“Uhhn.” With effort Keith turns his face to look at him, lips parted and eyes hazy but adoring.

Lance can’t help the fond smile takes over his face. “Hey honeybun. Hope you’re ready for me to rock your world.” He kisses his slack lips, then gets half behind him, kneeing his legs farther apart. Keith’s caged cock and purple balls dangle heavy between his lube-slick thighs, and his asshole gapes slightly even with nothing to hold it open. Damn, what a sight. Lance teases the rumbling vibe up his cleft, and Keith cries out sharply, jerking. His locked nub jumps uselessly.

“Good stuff, huh?” Lance plants a hand flat on the small of his back, holding him in place, and presses the longer, larger vibrating bulb against the swollen puff of Keith’s asshole. His doll jerks again, gasping and trembling as he stirs it in a circle, the slick loosened flesh moving easily on the toy.

“OhhhOH, oh. AaaaaaAAAH,” Keith informs him, eyes popping wide and then scrunching tightly closed, jaw dropping as Lance pushes it all the way in and lets the smaller bulb and its own vibrating motor nestle up tight to his taint, buzzing against the base ring of his cock cage.

Even in subspace Keith is strong as fuck. Whining shrilly, he thrashes so hard Lance drops the vibe and it slides out, plopping down on the towel to buzz against Keith’s calf.

He’s so out of it right now. There’s not much point in scolding him. “I know baby, I know,” Lance croons, more to soothe than anything else. “I’m gonna need you to hold still though while I pull that sweet sweet o out of you. Grab here.”

Lance climbs over him like he’s going to mount him, cock bussing against Keith’s crack, and takes his hands and guides them to grip the back of the couch cushion. “Hold on baby, ok? Hold on. Hold tight. Right here. Good, like that. Be a good toy, hold tight and still. Stay right there.”

That gets through to him. Keith’s fingers clutch hard in the upholstery, and he’s nodding dizzily. Lance might tie him down the next time they try this, but this will work for now.

With his toy’s mind as focused as it can be right now on holding still, Lance can go for gold. This has got him wildly turned on, jesus. Keith has had him worked up all day, and Lance has been eagerly anticipating doing this for him, especially after his earlier frustration. He dips the massager easily back into his toy’s loose wet hole, pressing mercilessly against his love button until he quakes. His caged cock is just drooling nonstop all over the towels. Man, that’s so sexy, Lance loves it.

He gets Keith’s thighs pushed together with his locked cock and balls pulled back to squish between them, right below his used hole. All his favorites, hanging out together, mmhm. This time he keeps a steadying hand on the small of Keith’s back when he pushes the vibe into him. With the smaller bulb pressing behind his poor sack and the larger one inside him, they must be pinching his prostate between them, assaulting the sensitive spot with double the power and making the cage vibrate too. It’s got to feel absolutely transcendent, going by Keith’s reactions. Every time Lance twists the toy down to hook harder into him he makes the most incredible sounds. They’re going to be the soundtrack to his dreams for years, he’s sure.

He’s so damn hard, his own cock is starting to drip onto Keith’s black thigh-highs. Keith is shaking harder and harder, his cries getting sharper, breath panting heavier and faster. Fuck, he’s going to do it. Lance knows Keith is getting close, he can feel it. He kicks up the vibe to a higher setting, the rumbling buzz ratcheting up impossibly louder. For several seconds Keith practically hyperventilates, and then his whole body locks up and he wails. A spurt of white spits out of his locked red cock, splattering his black socks, and then continues to squirt out in pulses on every stroke against his sweet spot.

Between the loud-ass vibe and Keith’s feral cries, he’s going to owe the neighbors an apology. There are absolutely no mysteries about what’s going on in this apartment.

“Fuck, you did it baby, you did it. Your body is so incredible. Oh my god. Fuck, that was hot. Got another one in you?” he asks breathlessly. Lance doesn’t even slow down, just keeps rolling the vibe against Keith’s abused prostate. His doll is crying out and tremoring all over, completely overstimulated, but they’ve talked about this, and he’s not sounding pained. Lance is absolutely certain he can get him to come again.

His socked feet kick helplessly, thrashing so hard that Lance lunges one knee over to kneel on them, then pins the rest of him down by planting a forearm between his shoulder blades. Such a good little fuckdoll. Even with his body shaking and struggling uncontrollably, Keith’s knuckles are blanched white with how hard he’s clinging to the couch cushion, and he’s biting down on it to muffle his cries. His body seizes again and he howls into the cushion, quivering and squirming, cheeks red and wet with tears. Keith’s hole is spasming wildly around the toy and more thin white fluid dribbles out of his locked dick, adding to the mess on his thighs and socks. He’s so, so fucking good. Lance is so proud of both of them, delighted with Keith and flushed with confidence.

It's getting difficult to keep him held down, though. Lance doesn’t want his doll to struggle so violently he hurts himself, or throws one of them off the couch. Someday he’ll see how many orgasms he can get out of Keith in a row, but he’s going to need to figure out a way to immobilize him first.

Lance turns off the vibe.

With the rumbling of the massager silenced, it’s just the sound of the TV (…Lance forgot it was still on) and Keith’s sobbing little breaths, muffled into the couch. Now that he’s not being directly stimulated so intensely he’s stopped writhing, melting like goo into the couch other than the occasional spasm and the clutch of his fists in the back cushion.

Carefully Lance slips the vibe out, sets it aside. “There’s we go,” he says softly, stroking a hand up and down Keith’s shaking back, rubbing the nape of his neck as he settles, breath slowing. “Love taking care of my doll, my lovely little toy.”

Lance is so turned on he’s shaking now too. He loves Keith, and loves playing this little game with him.

Fucktoys are meant to be used, and that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

Bent over with the dark thigh-highs against the dark couch, it looks a lot like an ass-shaped masturbator. It’s just a hole to pleasure his dick with. Absolutely not to be compared with lifeless silicone though, no. Inside it’s deliciously warm and silky and slippery, welcoming him in, pulsing and twitching on him as he languidly gets himself off.

It’s so fucking hot that Keith lets him use his body like this.

He takes his sweet time, holding the stroker in place and pumping lazily into its sweet gloppy heat. There’s no rush, nobody else’s pleasure to worry about. Occasionally the toy squeaks and shivers, but that just adds to the fun, making it squeeze tighter on his dick. He moans when he finally brings himself to a peak, dumping his load inside the doll. Its clutching heat milks his cock like it’s designed to be filled. When he pulls out and spreads its cheeks apart, cum and lube ooze out in globs. Sighing out a satisfied breath, he grinds his cock through the mess, gritting his teeth through the sweet overstimulation until he softens.

“Well that was fun.” He’s a little shaky sounding himself, now. He wishes he could just melt them both down together like a pair of candles, into a warm puddle of pleasure and fuzz and love. Lance clears his throat, and says more smoothly, “You there, babydoll?”

“Mnnrmrnrm.”

Yeah, Keith is still super out of it. His fingers are still gripping the cushion, eyes half lidded. But he bumps back, ass settling in the cradle of Lance’s hips, like he wants the contact but doesn’t have it in him to move any other way.

Lance huffs a fond laugh. “Yeah. Exactly.”

With some coaxing he gets Keith’s hands unclenched from the cushion. Lance kisses his palms, then eases him down onto his back (shuffling some towels around as he does so – they’re both a mess). Keith is relaxed and slack, letting Lance move him around without complaint or resistance. When he unlocks the cock cage and carefully eases it off, it gets a throaty little sound out of him. His boyfriend arches in a little stretch, eyes blinking at him. Fondness swelling up through his lungs, Lance stretches out alongside him and kisses his throat right above the collar, soft and lingering, and then gently unbuckles it, threading it out from under his neck and setting it on the table with care.

Tangling their legs together, Lance holds him and talks. He tells Keith stories about what happened at work from while he was gone, some funny things Hunk said. He tells him how much he missed him, how good he was today and how much Lance loves him.

After a while he feels Keith nuzzling his neck. His arm inches up over his shoulder, holding Lance back.

Lance smiles into his hair. “You back with me, Keith?”

“…Holy fuck,” Keith croaks.

He wiggles a little bit to get face to face with his boyfriend. Keith’s eyes are welling up, but that happens a lot at the end of an intense scene. They’ll cuddle it out and talk over how it went and all will be well.

“Hey baby. Welcome home.”