Originally Published: 03/04/08
Title: Cotton Stand-In
Matt Li (/David Sinclair)
Summary: Matt finds something of David's.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my world, making no money.
Feedback: Yes, please! Feed the author!
A/N: This was written for the challenge - prompt: Someone steals a piece of (used) clothing from their secret crush and uses it to masturbate. Thanks to my betas.
It was late when Matt finally looked up from his computer to notice most of the rest of the FBI office had gone home. He stretched and rubbed his eyes then got his bag. On his way out of the office, he went by David’s desk. Okay, he knew it wasn’t exactly on his way out of the office, in fact it was in the opposite direction, but he always went by it before leaving, so it was on his way … sort of.
David wasn’t usually at his desk when he went by, and even if he was, Matt wouldn’t usually say anything. On the rare occasion that David would look up and say, “Good night” or something else equally mundane, Matt would be walking on air all the way to the elevator.
Tonight, David was gone, but Matt noticed something on the floor next to David’s desk. He leaned down to pick it up. It was his favorite of David’s shirts, the long-sleeved black one. Frowning, Matt vaguely remembered David showing up in this shirt this morning and later wearing a suit, so he must have changed for some reason and dropped this shirt.
Matt glanced around the office but the one remaining tech wasn’t looking at him. He brought the shirt up to his face and inhaled deeply. Sweat … gun oil … his particular aftershave …
Before Matt was even aware what he was doing, he was stuffing the shirt into his bag and hurrying towards the elevator. He got into the elevator and jabbed at the ‘close’ button, probably looking guilty as hell. But he got to his car and drove out of the parking lot without anyone shouting ‘Thief!’ and ‘Return that federal property!’
At his apartment, Matt tossed his mail on the coffee table and unzipped his bag. He took off his own T-shirt and, feeling like the world’s biggest loser, pulled David’s T-shirt over his head.
David’s smell engulfed him, setting Matt’s heart racing. The shirt was too big for him and hung over his hands and down past his hips. It was almost as if David had just enclosed him in those warm, strong arms …
Making a strangled sound, Matt kicked off his shoes and bolted towards his bedroom. There he threw himself on the bed and yanked down the zipper on his jeans. His cock was already half-hard, pressing at his underwear. Roughly, Matt shoved his jeans and underwear down around his thighs. Then he closed his eyes and slid the sleeves of David’s shirt over his hands.
He imagined the black shirt was David’s arms around him. He took a hold of his cock through the soft cotton and pretended that it was David’s graceful hands gripping him. He was lying in David’s arms, his back to David’s muscular chest, David slowly stroking him. David’s smooth voice was whispering in Matt’s ear.
“Does that feel good?” Matt murmured to himself. “Yes, David, I love your hands on me. I love stroking your cock, Matt. Maybe after this I’ll let you stroke mine. God, yes, please, David. I love your cock, feels so good, tastes so good. Oh yeah, you’re a little slut for my cock, aren’t you? Yes, David, please stroke me, touch me, love your hands on me. Hold me tight, make me come. You smell so good. Yeah, Matt, want your smell on me too, want your cum on me, too.
“David, David.” Matt’s hips thrust upwards, his rigid cock sliding against the fabric between his hands. He could almost hear David’s voice, urging him on. “C’mon, come for me, Matt.” Matt’s thighs began to tremble, heat gathering in his balls. “David, please, oh, David, David!”
An orgasm blasted out of his cock, tremors jolting his body. He stroked harder, squeezing out every drop as he continued to babble, “Yeah, David, feels so good, David, David, David …”
Panting, Matt slowly opened his eyes. He looked down to see the bottom and sleeves of the black shirt now spattered with his cum. He laughed softly, thrilled with marking the shirt. He’d wash it and sneak it back on David’s desk. But he knew from his forensics work that traces of the cum would still be there, still show up under a UV light. David would walk around, wearing his mark, as unknowing of Matt’s brand as he was of Matt’s interest in him. Matt would never do anything about that interest, he shouldn’t, couldn’t. This was as close as he’d ever gotten and would be as close as he ever did.
Still … Matt smeared the cum across the dark fabric and thought of David’s dark, warm skin. His cum, smeared across that skin, David’s fingers resting on Matt’s softening cock, his lips at Matt’s ear, murmuring soft approval …
He didn’t need to give the shirt back right away …