[He can hear himself trying to catch his breath when Shiro draws away, too, small gasps that grow from heavy to soft slowly as he looks directly at him, shivers at the way he sounds and what he says. The you, you, you that his mind supplies in answer at first is woefully unhelpful, then- it catches up, seemingly clear in the way Keith looks at Shiro, his eyes full of a mix of years of longing and this rushed desire both.]
Keep touching me. [The edge in his voice is raw, needing, firm.] I want-- Don't stop. I want all of it.