Keith might be a goof, all heroic poses and goofy grin and catchy repetition, but don't let anyone ever tell you he's not creative.
Ribbons, most commonly found on gifts around this time of year, wound tightly around bony wrists, tied in not just a knot, but a nice bow, to the leg of a small side table, leaving large hands free to roam a significantly smaller body. Slim hips were propped on his thighs as he bent forward, lips leaving bites and kisses down a long neck and a pale chest. Thin legs were bent on either side of him, tied at the ankles and hiked against quivering thighs as they strained to keep him up, to put his closer. Keith only smiled, nuzzling damp hair and palming a flat belly, ghosting his hands over jutting hips bones and down smooth thighs, smile widening to a grin with every keening whine and jerky buck, always keeping himself just far enough away to ensure zero contact. And when his hands finally found their way to where they belonged, they were slow and frustrating and goddammitKeithplease, which only brought another lazy smile to his face, eyes crinkling in the corners and hand pumping just a bit harder, just a bit quicker and it wasn't very long before he was pulling away with a hearty laugh, a press of a kiss to a sweaty forehead and a swipe of a towel across a taut belly. He wrapped himself around the quivering body, eyes closed and head nodding at the heavy-tongued complaints sleepily filtering into his ear, chuckling and agreeing until they stopped, replaced with even breathing and the soft weight of a fluffy head perched on his shoulder.
But if asked about his creativity, Keith would always laugh and wave his hands in front of him, claiming again and again that he was merely acting out Ivan's imagination.
