Fwb #katt #nsfw

For my next trick i will be combining 2 of my favorite horny katt hc's:

1) keith is a whiny, desperate mess of a top

2) keith calls matt 'matty' when hes about to cum

Keith has a very short list of things he wont do in bed: he doesnt top, and he doesnt beg.

Hes an aggressive, demanding bottom who's not easily impressed and he likes it that way. Hes had a number of bedmates offer to switch and he makes his disinterest in that very clear

(Not that he blames them. he knows his dick is nice-- thick and long, slightly curved with a pretty lilac tint, and textured ridges along the shaft that he doesnt doubt would feel amazing.)

When he bottoms, hes in control.

Keith has a reputation for being difficult--always has, and its no different just because he's the former leader of voltron and current leader of the Blades.

He knows that can attract a certain kind of person, but he doesnt mind taking men to bed who view him as a conquest.

He thinks its cute how they think theyre in charge, how they grin and tell him to beg, like they think they're changing his life with their cock.

Few things bring keith a greater, petty pleasure than the look of surprise when he puts men like that on their backs,

rides them within an inch of their lives, and then holds them at the brink for as long as he likes.

They always beg.

The truth of it though, it that keith fucking /loves/ to top. Loves it too much, so much that it flays him open, leaves him raw and exposed, desperate.

Vulnerable.

There was only one person he ever thought he'd show that side of himself to.

He always thought that eventually, after everything they went through together, they would...

It doesnt matter now.

Keith was wrong.

And it was fine.

What he had absolutely no way of predicting was Matthew fucking Holt.

They had been friendly enough before the kerberos mission, but not friends. Keith had privately, jealously, viewed him as competition-- too familiar with his own aching crush not to see it mirrored in matt.

And then one night, on a relief/rescue mission to a far flung planet that required both Rebellion and Blade operatives, keith had found himself on a transport ship in deep space, drunk, with matt holt.

"Hair's so pretty," keith slurs, scooching closer to matt's warmth, to comb his fingers through his ponytail. "Soft."

Matt huffs a laugh at him. "You're drunk. An' yours is soft too. And pretty." Keith's braid slides through his calloused hand. "Been thinkin of dying mine.

Blondish-brown isnt really /me/, yknow? I wanna go, like, lavender or something. Whatta you think is the prettiest hair color?"

"White," keith says automatically, before his eyes fly wide as he hears himself. "No! I mean it /was/. Used to be, i dont- im not--"

Keith scrambles away, something quick and frightened in his chest, thats /too close/ to admitting--

"Shh," matt says, then after a pause, "It's my favorite, too. Was." He holds his arm open, an invitation back to share his warmth. "C'mere, keith."

Keith goes, and its warm and quiet for a while as they each have their own thoughts.

Keith is almost starting to doze when matt breaks the silence. "I always thought it would be you," he murmurs.

Keith doesnt have to ask. It may be the wronf thing to say, but, "I- I did, too."

Its the first time hes made anything so close to an admittance out loud and the reality of it hits him like a train, the disappointment and- and he's tried to stay far, far away from the word but-- drunk, and safe, with the only person who really /knows/-- keith is /heartbroken/.

"Matt, i thought," keith's voice cracks, "I- I really thought--" he tries to curl away from the comfort of matt's arms but they drag him closer.

Keith doesnt know the last time hes been /held/.

"/Fuck/," he whimpers, and breaks.

He tries to apologize through hiccuping sobs-- matt is the last person who should have to comfort him through this.

"It was never going to be me, keith," he says softly, and somehow doesnt sound bitter about it. "I've had a long time to get used to it."

Matt rubs keith's back, slowly, up and down.

"You havent let yourself grieve at all, have you?"

"M' not--" keith sniffles, "not /grieving/, its not like anyone /died/."

"No," matt agrees. "No one died."

Then very quietly, like he's not sure he should say it, "But doesnt it feel like a part of you did, though?"

An awful, wretched sound crawls out of keith's throat.

"Grieve for yourself keith," matt whispers. "I've got you."

Matt holds him the entire time, and when keith has finally cried himself out, hes reluctant to leave the surprising safety of his arms.

Keith expects-- not to be /pushed/ off matt's lap, but eased off at least-- but matt doesnt give any indication that he expects keith to move.

Somehow managing to barely jostle keith, matt produces a pack of sealed hyperabsorbent towelettes and presents it to keith.

"Need a space tissue?"

"Yeah," keith says wetly, gratefully accepting them. "Thanks. For- for all of it."

"Sure thing. How are you feeling?"

For the first time in a long, long time, keith actually feels...settled.

Granted he feels wrung out and exhausted and still a little tipsy, but he feels lighter, too.

He pokes at all the hurt, all his disappointment and bitterness and resentment, and finds it's all still there; it'll be there for a long time, he thinks, but the sting of it feels a little bit less, like the wound he'd been reopening is finally starting heal.

"Tired," he answers, "but better."

Matt hums.

"Good." And presses a kiss right on the crown of keith's head.

Startled, keith looks up at him for the first time since breaking down.

"Shit, sorry, i didnt mean- i mean i /did/, but i wasnt--"

Keith's not listening. He thumbs at the tear tracks on matt's cheeks. "I made you cry," he whispers, and he thought he was done but he feels his lip start to quiver.

"Oh Keith, honey, no." Matt pulls him into a bone crushing hug. "Its not your fault at all, ok?

I was cursed with being a sympathetic crier. Basically im just like Hunk, except way better because its tears instead of vomit."

That gets a chuckle out of keith, and gets matt to loosen his grip so keith can resettle on his lap.

"So," keith says with a quirked eyebrow, "'honey,' huh?" The effect of the tease is lessened a bit when keith has to blow his nose, but it still brings some pink out of matt's cheeks.

"Shut up," he grumbles, shoving at keiths thigh and making no effort to actually dislodge him.

Keith, as a rule, does not allow pet names. He's no one's 'baby' or 'sweetheart.' His mother calls him 'son' on occasion, which he accepts.

"S'okay," keith says, feeling some heat in his own cheeks. "I kinda liked it."

"Oh." Matt blushes darker. "Yeah?"

This close, keith can see that matt has a light sprinkling of freckles on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. It's very cute.

Both of matt's hands settled on keith's thighs at some point where they're spread open over matt's own. Keith can feel their warmth through his pants.

Keith's own hands settle on matt's chest.

"Mhmm."

Keith's eyes flit to matt's full lips before meeting his eyes, all liquid and warm. Matt bites his lip and holds the eye contact, hands tightening their grip on keith's thigh.

"Im gonna kiss you, now," keith decides, and gives matt enough time to answer with a breathy "yeah," before keith is leaning in and capturing his mouth.

Keith truthfully doesnt spend a lot of time kissing-- with his limited free time, drawn out makeout sessions are a luxury he cant typically afford.

But keith doesnt have anywhere to be and the way matt kisses is quickly taking over his higher brain function.

There's something about matt's hands, so warm and strong, how one of them holds steady at the curve of keith's waist and the other cups his face, that is turning keith the fuck on.

Its- its /respectful/ and its laughable thats its making keith this hot because

he doesnt take men to bed to be /respected./

No, he earns the respect he gets by leading the Blades and being damn good at it. He takes men to bed to get /fucked/.

And thats the difference, he realizes. Matt's not kissing keith like he wants to fuck him.

He's kissing keith like he wants to /kiss/ him, like they could do nothing but this for as long as keith wanted and be perfectly content.

Its doing keith's head in.

Matt pulls him in closer, close enough to feel that hes at least as affected as keith is, and keith thinks that this is it, it may have taken matt a little longer but this is where he rocks up into keith, uses keith's body to get the friction he needs.

Keith wants him to.

But matt only curls his arm around his waist and gently turns keith's head to lave his neck with attention.

He cant help the moan that slips out of him-- no one ever pays this much dedicated attention here and it feels so fucking good.

There's a slightly raised spot about halfway down his neck that makes keith's breath hitch every time matt licks over it.

"Are marks ok?" Matt asks.

Keith is too dazed to follow. "Huh?"

Matt chuckles against his skin and that feels good too.

"Can i give you a hickey?"

/No/ is the obvious answer-- he has a whole organization of highly trained spies and assassins to lead, he cant come to work looking like a teenager with his first experience under the bleachers.

A guy trying to leave a mark on keith's neck will get a firm shove and an order

to do it lower if they want to give him a hickey so bad. Keith doesnt mind it, really, his thighs look good littered with purple bruises.

But matt isnt trying to mark his neck. Hes /asking/ to. And keith wants it.

"Yeah. Yes. You can."

And when matt still hesitates, "I want you to."

Matt /still/ takes his time, licking and kissing around that spot before finally closing his lips around it and sucking /hard/.

"O-oh fuck Matty!"

God it feels unreal, keith has maybe never been this hard in his whole life.

When matt pulls back after pulling a few more helpless moans from keith, he's grinning slyly, and that is way too good a look on him.

"So," he teases. "'Matty', huh?"

Keith covers his face with his hands. "Shut up," he mumbles through them.

"Aw no, baby, dont hide!" Matt's laughter is contagious, and keith cant help smiling when his hands are pulled away from his face and kisses pressed all over his palms.

"I'm just teasing, you can call me that, I like it. I actually," matt swallows. "really, /really/ like it."

"That so?" Keith smirks, wiggling his ass on matt's crotch. He's still feeling a little shy about the accidental nickname slip, but with matt pink-cheeked and hard beneath him, its difficult not to feel a bit smug about it.

"Yeah," matt sighs, and it's unclear if it's an answer or a reaction to the friction, but it hardly matters.

He pets up and down keith's sides over his shirt and it feels so nice that it takes keith a minute to realize that they are both hard and panting and /fully clothed./

Which is ridiculous.

Keith mouths across matt's jaw, lips dragging on the fine stubble --heh matt still cant grow a beard, at least some things havent changed-- and catches his earlobe between his teeth.

"So," he murmurs. "Are you gonna fuck me or what?"

"I dunno." Matt's hands flex on his hips. "Am I?"

Keith's instinct is to take it like a challenge, but matt's smiling up at him, waiting for an answer.

It's almost annoying, how charming it is.

"Yes," keith huffs, climbing off his lap and hauling him up. "You are."

The hall to the living quarters is short and matt easily allows himself to be tugged to Keith's room.

"And stop being such a gentleman!" Keith says over his shoulder as he palms the door panel.

Matt's laughter carries over the whoosh of the door sliding open.

The door closes, and keith's finds himself unexpectedly boxed in against it, the metal cold against his back.

Two fingers under his chin tilt his head until hes looking into knowing honey-brown eyes.

"Why, baby?" He teases. "Is it turning you on?"

"It's not and also shut up."

Keith shoves at matt's shoulder, blushing.

"It is!" Matt crows. "Just wait til you see how politely i can suck your dick. Or eat you out. I'll even say grace before my meal if it gets you hot."

"Oh my god, stop!"

Matt waggles his eyebrows and keith cant help his laughter.

"Stop making me laugh and take your fucking clothes off," keith commands, and then softens it with a deep kiss.

Keith will admit that he yelps when matt tumbles him into bed, but he does /not/ squeak when matt holds his hips down and swallows his cock.

"Not- /hah/ not even gonna say anything about my dick?"

Matt pulls off with an obscene slurp,

a long strand of spit from his tongue to the wet head of keith's cock, and keith just /knows/ hes doing it on purpose.

"What, this?" He strokes keith and thumbs firmly at the ridges just beneath the crown in tight circles.

Keith jolts and lets out a startled cry--

no human he's slept with has /ever/ known where to--

"You think you're the only one who gets to have a little Galra in you?"

Distracted, it takes keith a moment to catch on. "Wait, you mean you've--?"

Matt winks. "Hot is hot, babe. The universe is way too big

to be bothered by things like purple fur and bat ears and ridged dicks. And just so we're on the same page, I am very /very/ willing to get some Galra in me again."

Keith shakes his head with a chuckle. "Thats a very generous offer, but i dont top."

"Fair enough," matt says with an easy grin. "You wont catch me complaining."

With nothing left to say, he enthusiastically sucks keith back down.

"Shit" keith hisses. When was the last time he even got a blowjob? Couldnt have been long after he swore off topping.

He'd forgotten how good it feels to have something hot and wet and tight wrapped around him...

His mind starts going hazy, and it's not until matt pulls off to gasp, "Holy shit, keith," that he realizes that the pitchy keening whimpers he'd been hearing were coming from /him./

With matt's mouth gone his head clears, enough to know that was too close.

A tiny, treacherous part of him whispers that maybe it would be ok to let matt see...but hes been too quick to trust before and he's not making that mistake again.

"Matt, fuck me," keith pants. "Now."