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The downpour was heavy outside the Fordman house. With Whitney’s father in the hospital, everyone was there for him, yet away from him at the same time. His mother was practically glued to the hospital, staying alongside her husbands, and his relationship with Lana was at an awkward state.
Whitney opened the door to his bedroom, yawning as he kicked his shoes off and placed them onto the shoe rack neatly. He turned to his bed and smiled at the boy sleeping in it. Clark had always been reliable, annoying, but reliable. Sexy too. Whitney walked to the side of the bed and sat in front of Clark’s sleeping form. He massaged Clark’s hand as he stared outside.
CRACK!!!
Thunder angrily grumbled outside as the downpour intensified. The warmth in the room was intense, he was surprised Clark wasn’t sweating bullets. Still, to be a somewhat good house warmer, Whitney pulled the blanket off of Clark’s body and stood up to get a smaller blanket. He paused to stare at Clark’s body, taking note of that he laid on his side in nothing but his boxers. Now he felt a little bad for taking the covers up. He braced himself for Clark to wake up annoyed, but the boy stayed asleep.
One thing that got Whitney to stare was his legs. His thighs down to his calves, to his ankles, to his feet: Whitney reached down and caressed the muscle as he walked around the bed. His fingers trailed down the curse of his ass to his thigh to the curve on his knee, he gently pinched the muscle of his calf and ran his hand up the incline of his ankle and finally departed at his heel. Whitney began to shed his clothes, stripping down his boxers and leaned over the sleeping boy. He started by kissing Clark’s neck while caressing up his chest. He kissed and lightly nipped around his neck, before licking over it. Clark moaned.
Clark shuffled against Whitney in his sleep, but didn’t wake yet. Whitney pushed further against Clark, forcing him to lie on his stomach with Whitney slightly on top of him. Whitney squeezed his hands under the man and started to rub and press his nipples. Clark’s breath slowly turned into stuttering pants.
“Wake up, baby. I want to give you–” Whitney was cut off by Clark swatting at his face. Clark reached back and pushed Whitney away.
CRACK!!!
The thunder shrieked like a hurt crow. Clark adjusted his position on his stomach. “Whitney, don’t you know what time it is?” Clark drew out with a yawn. “I’m not in the mood,” Clark lazily stated before he shifted back to his side. He felt Whitney’s hands back on him. One trailed down his spine while he licked up the back of his neck, his free hand went back to tracing his areola and pressing his nipples.
Clark fully sat up in frustration. “Whitney,” Clark says firmly, looking at Whitney like he wanted to excoriate him. “I’m exhausted. I have a test tomorrow over Romeo and Juliet. I need to go to bed.” Clark watched Whitney glance to the side with a pang of hurt, and looked down to see his half hard cock pressing against his boxers, then back at Whitney. Clark scooted towards the edge and reached into the drawer, and handed Whitney a bottle of lube and tissues. “Good night, Whitney.”
Clark laid back down on his side and closed his eyes. He could sense from shuffling behind him, hoping Whitney had finally gave up, he relaxed. Then, he felt a pair of hands brace themselves on his hip and a wet, phallic object slide between his thighs. Clark gasped and his eyes shot open, but he only deflated in agitation.
Whitney thrusted his hips gently, making Clark’s thighs milk his cock. Clark stared out the window as his body softly rocked from Whitney’s work. The lube between his thighs were uncomfortably slick. Whitney let out long moans and breathy grunts. He hunched over and places his hand over Clark’s. His eyes softened when he noticed Clark’s distasteful expression.
“Clark…fuck–baby. Look what you do to me. This is all for you.” His pace quickened. Clark didn’t say anything besides the grunt from the impacts. “M’sorry…I can’t control myself when I see you like that. Clark, you’re-y-you’re so fucking beautiful. I…fuck…”
Whitney shut his eyes and bit his lip. He felt Clark’s thighs clench and let out a sharp gasp. “Baby…” Whitney’s thrusts sped up, now rigid and desperate. His grip grew tighter, they would’ve bruised if Clark were normal, and he hunched further over and dangled his head.
“Clark….Clark—“
Whitney gasped, before slamming his hips forward and groaned and heavenly sound. Clark cringed at the feeling of semen spilling down his thighs. After Whitney finished spending between Clark’s thighs, he collapsed next to Clark and tugged his boxers up.
Clark laid there for what he thought were a few seconds, but whole minutes had gone by.
CRACK!!!
Clark immediately sat up once he realized nothing had been cleaned up. They were still very sweaty. Clark reached between his thighs and swiped the half dried semen. Clark groaned in annoyance, licked the substance off his finger.
“I think Lex was right when he said Whitney was a little capricious.”