pairing: walter 'keys' mckey x female!co-worker!roommate!reader
summary: All great roommates have rules. You and Keys just have one. You can’t touch each other. But when your favorite fantasy show turns spicy, the couch suddenly feels too small, and some rules are meant to be broken...
tags: MDNI [smut] [roommates to lovers] [movie night] [accidentally watching a sex scene together] [no touching rule] [tension] [mutual masturbation] [panty licking] [spit play] [dirty talk] [flustered] [mutual pining] [literal idiots in love] [filthy fucking keys smut as promised] [cumshot on tits] 6k words
note from gray: This dialogue prompt was requested for my 3k follower special event multiple times, with you asking for both smutty and fluffy versions. Your wish is my command. Read the fluffy sister fic here! This goes out to my literal muse, @tellcherhesgone.
“You’re doing the thing again,” you say flatly from the couch, eyes still glued to the TV.
Your roommate, Keys, clears his throat behind you. “What thing?”
“The thing where you pretend you aren’t watching my show, but you totally are.”
“What?” he scoffs. “No, I’m…I’m just on my way to the kitchen…”
Ten seconds go by. When you don’t hear him move, you glance over your shoulder to see him still leaning on the doorframe, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his white T-shirt rumpled under his crossed arms.
This is not the first time you’ve caught him pausing in the hallway, pretending not to be enamored by your favorite fantasy show, High Table.
You try not to notice how soft his mussed brown hair looks the dim light of the living room, or the way his nerdy glasses reflect the castle on the screen.
You fail.
He’s chosen a great episode to watch tonight, though, because Princess Alice is about to have to choose between Prince Lincoln —who she’s supposed to marry for the sake of the kingdom— and the court Jester, Quinn, who has secretly stolen her heart.
But right now, you’re missing important dialogue because as you watch Keys’ lips part in shock at something happening on the screen, a warm feeling settles in your chest.
“Keys.” You pat the couch cushion next to you. “Sit down.”
He doesn’t even look at you.
“No, that’s okay,” he murmurs, distracted. “I’ll just…I’ll just head to my room. Got work to do. So....”
Music swells through your dark apartment, and you turn back to the show, afraid you’ll miss something.
Ten more seconds later, Keys is reaching a greedy hand into your popcorn bowl and kicking his socked feet up on the coffee table.
You smirk into your soda. The carbonation fizzes against your lips, and you will yourself not to get distracted by the way the couch dips as he sits next to you.
Seriously, your ab routine at the gym might need some work, because keeping yourself from falling into his side like he’s the new center of gravity feels a lot harder than it should…
“I’ve heard about this show,” Keys says.
You bend over to set your drink down. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s up for some awards because of the fight scene choreography. And the historical features are supposedly really accurate, because they did the filming at—” He cuts himself off, glancing over at you sheepishly, but you just shoot him a knowing look.
His cheeks flush but he smiles, dragging the popcorn bowl into his lap
“…I’m just saying I’ve heard about it, okay?”
You settle back into the couch with a smirk. “Nerd.”
On the screen, Alice races down a castle corridor, her voluptuous dress bunched in her hands, red hair streaming behind her as she checks over her shoulder. Then, you and Keys gasp in unison as she yanks a sword from the wall with a metal clang and brandishes it against her own guards.
An intense action scene ensues, and you’re both so engrossed in the suspense that neither of you notice how close you’ve shifted towards the other. And when you reach for another handful of popcorn, Keys follows suit without thinking.
The soft brush of his hand against yours sends heat streaking through your skin. A gasp catches in your throat and you spring back from him in surprise, while he almost loses the entire bowl of popcorn in his haste to get away.
“Shit—sorry, sorry!” Keys apologizes instantly. “That one was my bad. Sushi?”
You think for a second. “Yeah, sounds good.”
The two of you turn back to the show in unison, ignoring the quickening of your heartbeats, and the fresh awareness of exactly where the other person’s limbs are in proximity to your own.
Listen, every good roommate arrangement has rules.
Like, for example; whoever dirties a dish has to clean it. That’s a good rule. Or, having a schedule for taking out the trash, labels on fridge items, and sending a courtesy text when you have someone over.
But you and Keys only have one.
You can’t touch each other.
If you do—even accidentally—you have to pay for takeout the next day.
Simple. Easy. And very, very necessary.
It’s not so much the money that keeps the rule intact, but rather the reminder of why it’s there in the first place.
Because Keys isn’t just your roommate. He’s also your co-worker.
The two of you work from home for Soonami Studios, thanks to their not-so-recent office resizing. You were promised this would be a temporary thing, but Antwon—your egotistical, asshole of a boss—has never been one to stick to his promises.
Little does he know, it really is temporarily, because you and Keys have already started job hunting.
Oh—and the cherry on the fucking cake? There is a zero tolerance company policy at Soonami studios, outlawing romantic employee relationships. It’s an ancient rule, but Antwon certainly doesn’t care to revise it. He’s happy as a clam to sit in his throne room, filing his nails and making crude jokes about the secretary, or—whatever it is he does up there.
Which means that sharing an apartment and an office 24/7 with your absurdly cute co-worker makes upholding this policy…difficult, to say the least.
Especially after what happened last March—
“Look at me, Your Highness.” The Jester rasps, drawing your attention back to the show. His dark curls spill down around his shoulders as he gently takes the Princess’ face in his hands. You and Keys both hold your breath, watching as the camera pans to show the castle guards scattered across the candlelit castle floor, their bodies bloody and still.
Slowly, as Alice lifts her eyes to her forbidden lover’s, yours turn to Keys.
He sits forward on the couch, hair falling over his glasses as his fingers steeple under his chin. Watching the scene with a rapt attention you can’t help but find extremely endearing.
“You’ve never looked at me like one,” the Jester rasps, his lips inches from hers. “But I’d gladly be your fool. Forever. Just tell me what to do.”
“I don’t know what to do, Quinn,” Alice says, breathless. “All I know is that I’d tear this castle apart again and again to be yours. If you’ll have me.”
The orchestra track crescendoes as he dips his head at the same time she rises to meet him, and the sound of kissing fills the room.
Keys clears his throat. “Wow. That was—”
Then the music shifts. It turns into something deep and thready, spinning a tendril of heat up your spine.
You feel your eyes go wide as her back hits the wall on beat as the kiss deepens.
Tongue and teeth flash in the candlelight as Quinn captures Alice’s wrists in one hand and pins them to the stone above her head.
Keys shifts on the couch, causing the cushions to dip again and nearly dragging you into his orbit. Your abs flex with the effort to stay upright.
The camera pans down….down to his hands climbing up her gown, long fingers slipping up past the fabric and wrenching a desperate gasp from her.
“They’re gonna cut away,” you say, voice wavering with false confidence. “They always—”
The sound of ripping fabric covers your words, and your jaw drops as the Jester tears open the Princess’s bodice, spilling her tits onto the screen.
“…It’s not cutting away,” Keys mumbles.
“No, they will!” You clear your throat. “Just watch.”
The camera moves again, this time pulling back for a wide angle. It catches the way Quinn’s muscled forearm flexes as he makes a rhythmic motion beneath her skirt, causing her mouth to drop open on a silent scream.
“Oh, I’m watching alright,” Keys supplies unhelpfully.
You drop your eyes to your lap, barely resisting the urge to palm your flaming face. But in your new field of view, you see Keys’ big hand twitch against his crotch.
Surely, this isn’t getting to him. Maybe it’s just that…universal groin discomfort men seem to always experience at inconvenient times. Because, you know, balls and all that.
But then it happens again.
You hold perfectly still, watching from the corner of your eye as his fingers spread over his thigh and his palm dimples his grey sweatpants ever so slightly.
Suddenly, his gaze flicks over to you.
Your stomach flips and you avert your gaze, pretending to be very invested in what’s happening on the screen.
“Not here,” Alice moans, arching against Quinn.
His lips leave hers reluctantly, and her wrists slip from his grasp. With one cautious, desperate look around, she clutches her dress over her exposed breasts and catches his sleeve, pulling him toward her bedroom.
The two of you sit silently, chests barely moving with each breath as the lovers stumble through the castle walls. They barely make it through her chamber door before they’re making out again.
And as you watch them fall into each other’s arms with abandon, your thoughts can’t help but return to that fateful night in March.
You and Keys had found yourselves in the kitchen at the same time a little past midnight. He was standing in the light of the refrigerator when you rounded the corner, muttering something about not being able to sleep, and you came to a shocking halt as Keys pulled out his sacred pint of Häagen-Dazs from the freezer.
Now, you knew him by this point, so you understood what a monumental, once-in-a-lifetime offer this was. Keys sharing his ice cream? Unheard of.
Besides, who are you kidding, under no circumstances would you ever turn down some chocolate chocolate chip.
You perched yourself on the island as he grabbed two spoons before joining you, and the second the chilled sugar hit your tongue, a soft moan escaped you. He blinked over at you, and then his eyes dropped to your mouth where a drop of ice cream had rolled down the spoon and onto your chin.
You were utterly mortified but Keys just smiled and leaned in to wipe it away with his thumb. Which lead to you leaning in, too, and before you knew it, you were making out against the cold marble countertop at one a.m.
You both broke off abruptly, chests heaving, swearing you didn’t mean it. That you were both just…not thinking.
But then it happened again. In April.
You were coming home from a boring date, smelling like your perfume and wearing that shade of lipstick that Keys could never quite get out of his head. All it took was one accidental brush of his shoulder against yours in the dark hallway before his glasses were fogging up as your tongues tangled together, his back hitting the wall with a thunk.
It wasn’t long before you were groaning into each other’s mouths in frustration, hands fisted each other’s clothes as you realized you had to stop.
That night, the rule was born.
And, the rule is good. It keeps things orderly, somewhat manageable, and above all—strictly professional.
Even if it makes you want to claw your eyes out every time you see your roommate because he’s too fucking perfect and you can’t have him and—
“Is this turning you on?”
Keys’ voice jolts you out of your thoughts, and you whirl back into the room, suddenly very aware of how damp your panties are just from the memory of his mouth on yours.
You blink quickly, first at the screen, where Alice and Quinn have finally made it to her bed, then over at him before you realize he asked you a question.
“What? N-no?” you stammer.
“Oh. It’s just your breathing got all—It’s fine, if you are, I mean. You know, I just—” He rakes a hand through his hair and his eyes widen before he looks away. “Sorry.”
You open your mouth, then close it, then open it again.
“Why?” you ask. “Is this…doing something for you?”
“What? No.” He shakes his head. Then, shakes it again harder. “No, why would you think that?”
“Well, you’re the one who fuckin’ said it, Keys!”
“I was just checking on you, okay?” he defends. “C’mon, it’s not like—” He gestures towards the TV at the same time Quinn crawls down Alice’s body, dropping kisses down her creamy thighs before disappearing under her dress. “Jesus.”
Alice’s tits are back on display again, the dips and valleys of her breasts painted in the light from the fireplace as she arches off the bed, moaning at the feel of Quinn’s mouth between her legs.
Keys’ pupils grow wider under his glasses, and his Adam’s apple bobs on a swallow.
You gasp. “Keys, you’re really into it!”
He gestures wildly towards the TV, rolling his eyes. “Oh. Okay. What am I supposed to do? Not look at the screen?”
Truth is, the need for him to look at you like that is burying itself deep between your hips, sharp and hot, making it hard to breathe. But you can’t say that, so you just…keep watching.
The two of them have moved further up the bed. Quinn’s spread out across the pillows while Alice brackets his waist with her knees. It cuts to a close-up shot of her locket dangling against her bare chest as she lowers her hips down. Though the camera doesn’t pan any lower, it’s pretty obvious she’s riding his dick from the way her head rolls back in pleasure, sending her red hair cascading down her back.
This new position reduces them to nothing but a gasping, growling, pawing mess of hungry mouths and limbs, and suddenly, your soft T-shirt and sleep shorts feel swelteringly tight.
The candle on the window sill felt like a cozy, atmospheric choice an hour ago, but now it feels downright sensual as the flame dances in the dark window overlooking the city far below.
Looking at it now, you can’t help but remember the first time you saw that candle.
When your previous roommate spontaneously married her boyfriend and moved out days before you were about to renew your lease, you had to find a new place to live and fast. You were talking to your friend Ria about it at work when suddenly, Walter McKeys interrupted with an offer.
You hardly knew the guy, but apparently, his best friend, “Mouser”, had just moved out thanks to a job change, and Keys needed a roommate to split the rent.
Now, you’re ashamed of the initial judgements you made on the bachelor pad. Days old takeout containers, a suspiciously stained couch, beds without headboards. The usual.
But, when you entered the spotless high-rise apartment for the first time, and found Keys in the kitchen, lighting a candle with the words teakwood and amber on the side, you realized you had severely misjudged your new roomy.
He was trying to make a good impression, that much was obvious. And you could tell he was nervous.
Because when you stepped into the kitchen with your bags, smiling at him softly, he gestured toward the candle and launched into an unprompted dissertation on why soy wax was the best, and that you should definitely buy candles with wood wicks, because they made a crackling sound akin to a real fireplace.
Now, that stuttering crackle is the only thing you can hear besides your own heartbeat whooshing in your ears, and the sounds of sex happening from the TV.
Suddenly, it all begins to feel like a bit too much.
Your shirt is tight against your hard nipples, and Keys has a pillow over his lap to hide the erection you’re pretending not to notice, and their moans are so fucking loud—
“God, how long is this scene?” Keys murmurs breathlessly.
Something about that desperation in his voice has you launching out of your seat to grab the remote off the coffee table. Embarrassment sends a flush up your neck, and your fingers tremble as you fumble for the skip button.
“Yeah, no, I can—” you chuckle breathlessly. “Let’s just...”
The TV screen goes black.
Oh. Shit. You didn’t mean to press the power button! You were just tying to fast forward! Should you turn it back on? No. God, no! The silence threatens to suffocate you. Except for the crackling wood wick.
Damn, that candle is loud.
Keys swallows hard beside you. “Well…goodnight.”
“Yeah,” you breathe. “Night.”
Neither of you move.
Keys’ knees widen ever so slightly as he goes to take the pillow off his lap, but seems to think better of it at the last second. You itch to tease him for it, but you can’t, because your panties are sticking to your wet cunt, your clit throbbing with a heavy ache you haven’t felt since April.
And it’s not from the fucking sex scene.
“Keys—” His name leaves your lips before you can stop it.
In the dim candlelight, his chest rises and falls under his T-shirt, and a stray lock of hair falls into his eyes as he glances over at you.
“Yeah?”
He’s looking at you so earnestly from behind his glasses. Like he’d do literally anything you asked him to right now, but more than anything, he just wants to listen.
“What if…?” Your eyes drop to your lap. “N-never mind.”
“No, what were you going to say?” he urges, and his voice has this eager, desperate edge to it that you absolutely cannot think about right now.
You shake your head. “It’s nothing. Seriously, just forget I said anything—”
“I mean, what else are we going to do?” Keys interrupts, then huffs a laugh that gets caught in his throat. “Go back to our rooms right now and pretend like we can’t hear each other getting off? Tell me.”
Oh, shit.
So he could hear you, too? God, it’s been torture listening to his uneven breathing though the thin wall. The slick sounds of him stroking his cock late at night. Those quiet groans that escape him when he thinks you’re asleep.
That one time you swore he said your name…
Heat rushes to your cheeks, but you shift to relieve some pressure on your aching clit just as his hand slips under the pillow on his lap, and your elbows bump together.
The contact forces both of you apart like lightning struck the couch cushions.
Keys rakes a hand through his hair, clutching the pillow to his groin like a fucking shield.
He clambers backwards into the other side of the couch while you shuffle in the opposite direction until your lower back hits the arm rest.
Both of you stare at each other, barely breathing.
All it would take is one of you walking out for all this to come to a screeching halt, but neither of you even glances toward the doorway.
“Okay, wait,” Keys says, “Let’s just…take a second here and think. Because what if…” His eyes catch yours and a shiver rolls through you. “What if we don’t break the rule?”
You watch his lips part, listen to his soft exhale— like he surprised himself by even saying that out loud—while your heart beats out of your chest. You know what he’s suggesting.
You’re just two friends who got horny from a sex scene, right? Right. Two friends who have made out twice in the past and swore they wouldn’t again, but, you know.
Semantics.
“We probably shouldn’t…” you breathe. But even as the words leave your lips, your finger twitches against the waistband of your sleep shorts.
His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, eyes dropping to your clothed cunt. “Yeah, you’re right….we shouldn’t…”
Your knees fall open slowly—one resting against the couch, while your other leg dangles comfortably off the cushions. Then, under his watchful gaze, your hand hesitantly pushes past your waistband.
“Holy shit,” Keys curses. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
You hesitate. “Well, you said—”
“No, no, keep going. I mean—only if you want to, of course. But it’s hot. It’s really hot.” He swallows. “You’re really hot.”
A warm feeling settles in your gut at his words, and suddenly, you want nothing more than to see what you do to him. Your finger isn’t even to your clit yet, but just his eyes on you has it pulsing with your heartbeat.
He lets out a shaky exhale, and his fingers close around the orange throw pillow. God, you’ve never noticed how big his hands are before.
Have they always been that—? Oh, shit.
He pulls the pillow off his lap, giving you a stunning view of his erection pressing against his grey sweatpants.
Nevermind about the hands, now that is big.
Even from across the couch, you can see his waistband gaping from stomach, the thick tip pushing it away from his happy trail.
“Take it out,” you say.
Your cheeks burn from embarrassment at your eagerness, but you hardly feel the sting of shame anymore. Not when he’s right here, so close to you, looking like he’s been just as consumed by you as you’ve been with him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” you pant, eyes locked on where his hand inches closer to his cock. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that, right? We’re not touching.”
“Yeah,” he lets out a stuttering breath as he squeezes his length through his pants. “Yeah, okay.”
As you watch him from under heavy lids, he pushes his sweatpants down, taking his underwear with them, and his flushed cock lands against his stomach with a soft plop. It sits heavy against the course trail of hair leading down, and your tongue twirls against your teeth, aching to run over it. Your fingers finally circle your clit, and the rush of pleasure makes you lightheaded.
“You lied to me, you know,” he rasps.
You watch as his big hand wraps around his dick…and half of it still sticks out above his fingers. He gives it one long stroke that has your back arching instinctually against the couch’s arm rest.
You blink up over him, mind hazy. “W-wait, what?”
There’s a teasing look in his eye, even as he strokes himself in front of you. “It was turning you on, you just couldn’t admit it.”
Oh. The show. You’d almost forgotten about it.
“I mean, sure, it was hot…I guess,” you stutter, face burning. “But Keys, you were sitting so close, and I—”
“Yeah, I know,” he groans, eyes dropping to your hard nipples pushing at your shirt. “Trust me. I know.”
A part of you has wondered what it would look like—all this tension between you finally hitting a breaking point and boiling over.
Apparently, it looks like this.
Watching each other masturbate on opposite ends of the couch.
Your panties stick to your folds, hot and wet against your knuckles and Keys watches your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you press tight, hard circles against your clit under the fabric.
“God, this isn’t fair, though,” he grunts. “You still have your shorts on, and I’m—” His hips grind up into his hand and he pushes his glasses higher on his nose in agitation. “Fuck—let me see you. Please?”
You’re powerless when he starts begging.
With trembling fingers, you dig your thumbs under your waistband and slide both your shorts and your panties down your thighs, exposing your glistening cunt to his gaze.
He groans, like this sight is actually hurting him. “Look at you, you’re so wet. I really…fuck, I really want to touch you. I mean, I really…” He swallows hard, and his eyes snag on the pink panties still dangling from your fingers. “Toss those over.”
You blink. “What?”
Keys can barely form words, too busy looking at that damp spot where your arousal soaked through the fabric.
“Please?” he begs. “I know I can’t touch you, but…fuck, I can taste you, right? That’s allowed?”
Your mouth parts in surprise, a shaky inhale caught in your throat. You never suspected Keys to be like this. Desperate, and eager, and…downright needy.
You’re not exactly sure what makes you decide to toss them over, the pink lace landing in a small heap over his knee. Maybe you just want to see how far you can take this rule of yours. How much you can get away with.
His big palm envelops the fabric instantly, and he drags it up to his face. A shaky inhale catches in your throat as he breathes you in, his lashes fluttering shut with a moan. Then his mouth parts, his tongue flicks over the damp spot. And all of a sudden, all you can picture is his tongue doing the same thing to your cunt.
That silky, wet heat exploring you in that curious, but earnest way of his. Searching for those spots that make your thighs clench around his head, inevitably turning you into a writhing, moaning mess underneath him.
“God, you taste so good.” His head falls back on a groan as pre-cum beads at his slit. “I’ve thought about you so much. Thought about what it would be like to—” His jaw ticks, and he hesitates.
“Talking isn’t against the rule,” you remind him breathlessly.
“Okay, okay, fine,” he groans, stomach muscles clenching under his shirt. “Every time we pass each other in the hall, I want to kiss you. I really want to kiss you again. And I want you to curl your hands in my hair like you did that one night while you…” he swallows hard. “While you ride me in my bed.”
“I want that too,” you gasp, and the ache between your hips turns ravenous, sharp claws of need digging into you, leaving you red-faced and moaning.
Your breath shudders as you watch his thighs fall open a little more. His cock twitches in his hand and your lashes threaten to slip shut just thinking about how badly you want to choke on it for him.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he mumbles. “You’re so fucking pretty, oh my god.”
“Keys,” you whine. Your hips buck up into your hand shamelessly, wishing it was his fingers circling your clit instead. They look so strong in the candlelight, the veins around his knuckles shifting with every stroke of his cock.
His Adam’s apple bobs on a swallow, and his eyes search your face. “I know, I know. You want me to help?”
You nod frantically, not even sure what you’re agreeing to, but Keys lets go of his dick to take off his sweatpants fully.
“What are you—” you start, but the sight of him shuffling forward and kneeling on the couch in front of you whisks all thoughts from your mind.
“Can I…” He swallows, brown eyes catching yours. “Can I help? I won’t touch you, I promise.”
“Yes” you whisper. “Please.”
Curious, your hand slows on your clit as he leans forward, elbows digging into the fabric couch, and oh—fuck. Now, his mouth is so close to you! He may have promised not to touch you, but suddenly, you want nothing more than to arch your back and close the distance,
Gently, and with a precision you would expect from your neat and tidy roommate, Keys purses his lips, and warm spit falls from his mouth—right onto your clit.
His breath ghosts over your throbbing cunt and you’re trembling with the effort it takes to hold yourself back from bucking up into his face, from making his plush lips hit your mound and slide all over your folds.
“Rub that in for me,” he commands, and you do what he says. Your heart thrashes in your chest as he remains there, panting. A stuttering exhale escapes him, his brown orbs pinned to your fingers. “Yeah—fuck, just like that. Does that feel good?”
Your thoughts collide and dissipate over and over again, too strung out on the idea of his mouth on you to even form a real thought.
“Mmhhmm.”
His chin tilts towards you, like his neck can’t support the weight of how desperately he wants to lick your pussy.
You whimper, eyes connecting with his. “N-nobody would know, right?”
He curses under his breath, hand twitching on the couch cushion, an inch from your thigh.
“If you got fired because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself, and ruin your chances at getting that job at Pixel? I’d never forgive myself.”
His words should serve as an icy reminder, dumping ice water all over your arousal, and putting some sense into you both. But, for some reason, the fact that he remembers the name of the studio you interviewed at recently, and cares so deeply about your future, just makes you burn even brighter for him.
You open your mouth, seconds away from begging him to touch you, but cold air rushes between your thighs as he retreats back into his side of the couch, taking his hard cock in his hand again. He murmurs something encouraging, but you barely hear it, too consumed by the deep ache in your core.
Something about this feels like crossing another line. Not one that breaks your rule, but one that shatters every wall you’ve put up between him and your heart.
The dirty, raw truth of it is that Walter McKeys is it for you.
He is.
You haven’t gone on a date in months, and you haven’t wanted to.
You’ve ‘accidentally’ let your fingers brush his more times than you can count, just so you’d have an excuse to eat dinner together.
Every pass of your thumb over your wet clit has tight tremors coursing through your hips, and when you dip your fingers inside your slick channel, your stomach jerks with a preemptive wave of pleasure.
“Oh, fuck, are you gonna come?” Keys pants. His hand speeds up on his dick, and his lids grow heavy as he watches you chase your climax. “Fuck yeah, baby. Come for me, pretty girl. Just like that. You’re doing so good—”
The praise sends you over the edge.
You cry out as the hot band finally snaps. Your walls pulse heavily around your fingers as your orgasm tears through you. Keys curses again, groaning as he watches you slowly stroke yourself through the aftershocks.
When your lashes finally lift and your gazes connect, he looks positively wrecked.
His hair is mussed, his glasses askew on his nose. His shirt is rumpled, stretched over his pecs and biceps, and his thighs are spread wide in front of him, his cock angry and red in his hand.
Suddenly, you start to feel a little sympathetic. He helped you, so he deserves a little help too. It’s only fair.
Slowly, you rise to your knees and strip off your shirt. He makes a choked sound as it falls beside the couch in a rumpled heap, leaving your breasts on full display in the candlelight. Your nipples are hard, aching for his touch.
Keys looks up at you, his hand slowing on his dick. But as you crawl towards him, his lip disappears between his teeth.
“Are you going to be good?” you whisper, rising onto your knees. Saliva pools in your mouth as you brace yourself over him, careful not to touch his skin.
“Shit—yeah, I’ll be good,” he pants. “I swear. I swear I won’t move, just—”
He cuts himself off with a stuttering grunt as you lean forward and let the spit fall from your lips, right onto the swollen head of his cock. Your saliva slides down his aching tip, gleaming in the dim light, and his hand starts up again instantly, smearing it up and down shaft.
“Fuck, yeah,” he grunts. “Oh, yeah, that’s—fuck, that’s so—you’re so—”
His head tips back at the warm, slick feeling of your spit, and the sound of him stroking himself sends another mind-numbing jolt of arousal through your spine.
“God, can I come on you?” His eyes drop to your chest. “On those pretty tits? Please?”
You nod eagerly and shuffle back against the couch, looking up at him.
“Lie back for me, okay?” he says. “Yeah, just like that. Don’t worry, I won’t touch you.”
Oh, but you wish he would.
Fuck the rule. It was so stupid to begin with.
His arm shoots out to hold himself up against the couch as he kneels over you and starts jerking off again, each pass of his palm making a shlick sound that has you throbbing again already.
God, how are you ever going to be able to sit on this couch again without thinking of him like this? The way his glasses fog up with every whimpering exhale, how his hips buck up into his hand when his eyes catch yours?
His lips part as his thighs lock up, his dick pulsing in his hand. You arch your back, an invitation in the candlelight. A canvas, just for him. His core flexes rhythmically under his shirt and he groans as his climax rolls through him. Hot ropes of come paint your stomach and tits, and before you know it, you’re face-to-face, panting into each other’s mouths.
Still not touching.
But when Keys lowers his head, his breath ghosting along your cheek, your lashes flutter shut, and—
A loud ding suddenly sounds through your apartment. You both startle, and his arm brushes yours in the process.
“Shit,” you mutter, scrambling for your phone on the coffee table and squinting at the screen. “It’s an email from Pixel.”
Keys ducks closer, eyes roving the screen in your hand. “What does it say?”
“‘We’re delighted to offer you a position at…’” you trail off. “Oh my God!”
“You got the job?”
You nod slowly, heart hammering in your throat. “I got the job!”
Both of you turn to each other, eyes wide and searching for all of two seconds before Keys reaches for you, and you reach for him, and before you know it, you’re kissing.
His lips are soft and warm against yours, and he’s smiling into your mouth, his nose brushing your cheek, glasses knocking into your closed lids. It’s a messy, breathless kiss, full of laughter and hands wandering everywhere.
“You know this means I can take you on a date, right?” He murmurs, not pulling back from you. “Tomorrow. No takeout this time. A real dinner, you and me.”
“Yeah,” your heart swells, and you smirk against his lips. “And remember, you’re buying.”
note from gray: here’s the fluffy sister fic if you want to read it! The inspiration for Quinn is from this mood board of jester!Eddie, thank you anon for participating in my 3k special event! you can also check out more headcannons for him here by @basicallydjo if you want! 🩶 (also, yes Quinn as in Joseph Quinn, and did you catch the song lyrics from Djo’s song ‘Fool’ in his dialogue? i know you did)
keys masterlist | cutie divider by @porcelaincatx
keys taglist: @mysticfluffyness , @joekeerysbicep69 , @oliviaharrington , @subtlesposts , @drifting-daydream
@emotionallyaslut , @xoxocelestial , @calelundaa , @keer-y , @unabashedlyinlovewithyou
@jesus-hotwheel-christ , @cupofdjoplease | if you’d like to be added to my keys taglist, comment below here!