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Clark had left something behind in Lex’s penthouse the last time they had a little rooftop date. It was just a flannel jacket, but it was thick and warm. Lex thought about telling him – about returning it, but the scent lingering on the flannel left his mind in complete intoxication. At first, he just wrapped it around a pillow, buttoning it to make it stay like a pillowcase. But it didn’t take long after that for the smell to fill his mind.
His thoughts were flooding in with how Clark had looked all night. A little bit of sweat was making his skin glow, his eyes were shining in the moonlight, with that little speck of brown in his left eye visible. Lex loved staring at him. The way his hair had started curling back up in the heat of the night; the way his large hand had lingered close to Lex’s thigh halfway through the picnic.
Even through memory, Lex could feel the touch along his skin. He shuddered at the thought of Clark running those large hands along his scrawny frame. The way his thumbs would press into his pelvis, forcing in affectionate bruises. Lex inhaled the flannel, and a long, soft moan escaped his throat.
Lex ghosted his fingers down his abdomen and into the waistband of his pajama pants. He whimpered at the touch that he promised himself was Clark Kent’s. He shut his eyes as tightly as possible, forcing the fantasy to life. He never let himself do this. He felt so guilty to think of someone in such a way. But as he delicately wrapped his hand around his member, that guilt slowly disappeared.
The ghostly memory of Clark leaned over him, whispering in his ear. This was what he wanted – to know that Lex couldn’t stand to be away from him. To know that his mere scent and the simple memory of him was enough to make Lex hard. Lex could feel the ghost of Clark’s lips on his throat.
Lex stroked his thumb along his tip, eliciting an electric pull through his body. He sucked in a breath, a whistling hiss behind his teeth. He turned and buried his face in the flannel, the scent overwhelming his mind, reducing his thoughts to a loud groan. He slowly pumped himself in his hand.
He could feel – pretend to feel? – Clark’s warm body behind him. He imagined Clark’s hand wrapped around his dick, as the Kansas boy softly encouraged his whimpers and moans. As Lex stroked himself, he felt Clark’s own hard cock pressed against him. Tears prickled his eyes. Lex never could make it through sex, let alone masturbation, without crying like a bitch. At least, that’s what everyone told him. Oh, Clark wouldn’t say that. He would probably say it was okay to cry. He would probably enjoy it.
Lex huffed his moans out as his hard length felt swollen, beginning to leak at the tip. He could never last long at his own hand. He knew how to get himself off too quickly. Maybe that was part of the reason why he didn’t let himself do this.
He felt the ghostly touch along his body. His free hand danced his fingers along his collarbone, pretending it was just Clark exploring his body.
Clark could hear the echo in his ears. The moans sounded somewhat muffled, but they were still loud. Like a noisy speaker in the next room. His breathing was heavy from the embarrassment and excitement he felt from hearing Lex touch himself. He heard Lex calling his name. He shouldn’t go back, not now, it was too risky. But he could let himself listen. He could even let himself join in, from a distance.
He held his own cock in his hand, quickly pumping into it. He wanted to find Lex and show him – show him how reciprocated the feelings were. He wanted nothing more – at least nothing more right now – than to hump into Lex. His cock was throbbing as Lex’s distant moans became clearer. God, he needed to fuck him.
He could picture Lex laid down, his eyes rolling back into his head, those pretty lashes soaked in tears as he was fucked deeply. Clark needed one good fuck out of Lex. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to last, keeping his hands to himself. He almost failed earlier tonight.
He spilled with cum all too quickly, his hand becoming a sticky hot mess from his load, but he felt the bliss washing over him. He could hear Lex in the distance trying to finish. It sounded like he wasn’t able to – or didn’t allow himself to. Lex was getting a shower and it sounded like he was limping.
Clark stopped listening after that. He should probably do the same. But he let himself lay for a moment, soaking in the ecstasy of Lex’s desire.