Work Text:
~
“I’m going to start now, okay?” Pidge stands behind Shiro, close enough for him to feel her body heat roll off his skin.
He swallows thickly, hyper aware of the lithe hands that hover over his bare back. “Go for it.”
There’s some initial discomfort when Pidge presses the pads of her fingers into the muscles corded around his shoulders, but it eases away while she works deep strokes and small tight circles into the knots. She alternates between using the heel of her palm and her thin digits, but the sensation of kneading his flesh into a compliant mass is pleasant. She makes her way from just where the neck and shoulders meet to the edge of his shoulders and back again, fingers temporarily rubbing through his undercut to get to the muscles in his nape.
Then it’s down his spine, just half way down in broad strokes before going back up to his neck and shoulders with the same amount of attention as before. He starts to hum while she’s there this time, veering on the side of obscene when her nails lightly and slowly drag down his neck.
She makes her way back down, following the curve of his shoulder blades, and continues to the small of his back where she puts her whole weight against him to work on a difficult knot there. Her not-so-quiet breaths puff against his exposed skin as she moves against him, warming him even more than the hands on his body. He definitely gives no thought to how much that particular detail gives away more than what he’s willing to admit or that there is anything worth admitting at all. Regardless, it’s a mixture of this and her skillful hands that have him biting his lip to keep himself from getting too vocal because it all feels good, really good.
The rest of his back is treated with the pads of her fingers pressing deep strokes in the spaces between his ribs. Her nails drag lightly across his exposed flesh again, catching on one of the more jagged scars along his side. It’s not unpleasant or unwanted, but it certainly isn’t appropriate the way the touch makes his toes curl. He has just enough time to regain his composure before he can embarrass himself, coming back to his senses to feel her sweep another set of broad strokes up and down his back.
With that, it all stops.
Pidge pats a hand against his shoulder and lifts herself off of him. Without her touch anchoring him in place, Shiro struggles to keep from pitching to one side—drained of just about all his strength. Jelly. She’s turned him into jelly.
“All done. Feel better?”
Shiro looks back over his shoulder at Pidge who is stretching her hands and wrists, the tools of her trade. He watches her, licking his lips while listening to her soft little moans and sighs as she cracks a few joints.
“Very.”