As the fingers played over his shirt, Oliver moved to take it off, but before he could Keith ripped it off, and Oliver made a soft sound of disappointment. “I liked that shirt!” But then the cut hand was running over his chest, smearing blood all over his skin, and he shuddered and moaned, back arching into the touch a bit. “Just fuck me. I like the burn.” And the possibility of tearing, even if it made it hard to walk after. God fucking dammit, he wanted to be fucked so back, he reached down with his bloody hand and started stroking his cock, getting scarlet all over his skin there too.