Another smut scene from my gay romance webnovel "Fractured Heart: the Tale of the Pop Star and the Pauper," because I can't wait long enough for readers to reach it organically :p
(You can read the first eight chapters free at www.fracturedheart.net and read a full 3-5k word chapter every Friday for only $5 a month at patreon.com/fracturedheartAO after that!)
Scenario: Lysander the world-famous pop star and boyfriend of shy, grumpy tsundere EDM DJ Theo has recently gone out of town for a performance while Theo stayed home to work on his music, and naturally they can't go a day without immediately having phone sex XD
Lost ‘in the zone’ as he had been, Theo hadn’t noticed that his phone notification had gone off until he’d finished his workout. He was in the process of toweling perspiration from his brow when he finally thought to check for messages, forcing enough strength into his beleaguered arm to pull his phone up from the side-table he’d left it on. Immediately his eyes widened as the motion triggered the phone to flash a preview of the text he’d received, and he paused only long enough to make sure he didn’t get the screen streaked with sweat before he unlocked it to read the message in its totality.
Sorry, babe. As soon as we got checked in, the owner of the stadium we’re performing at tonight insisted on taking us out to dinner at a high-end steakhouse. I didn’t want to be rude and check on my phone while we were there, and we got back so late that I didn’t want to risk waking you up. How are you doing? Want a phone call? I have a couple hours left before I need to go to the arena…I was thinking about catching up with emails, but I’d much rather talk to you. :)
Theo bit back a smile even though there was no one around to judge him for it, amused and relieved to find that his boyfriend hadn’t already forgotten about him only a day after he’d left. The text had come almost half an hour ago—Theo decided Lysander could stand to wait ten minutes more so he could shower the stink off of himself. So deciding, he bathed in record time, not bothering to get dressed afterward before he collapsed backward onto the mattress and stared at his phone for only a moment before he decided to call rather than text first.
“Babe!” This time Lysander spoke first, sounding relieved and eager as if they hadn’t just talked less than a day prior. “There you are. Sorry, were you in a meeting with Victoria or something? I hope I didn’t interrupt you.” He sounded so bashful and apologetic that Theo couldn’t help laughing, thinking how odd it was that the world-famous pop star should be the one that seemed nervous. At the sound of his laughter, Theo practically heard his lover’s brows drawing together before the singer asked, a little offendedly, “What?”
“N-nothing. Just…I miss you.” Theo sighed, laughing again softly. God, it was so good to hear his voice. “Um…how was, uh, the s-steakhouse?”
“Oh. Fine. My fillet mignon was a little overdone, but I’ll survive. The owner was really insistent on showing his gratitude that we’re kicking off the tour in his stadium.” Lysander broke into his own laugh, sounding a little bemused. “I didn’t have the heart to tell him that actually our first choice would have been The Circle, but that place was already booked out almost two years ago by Barbara Savannah.”
“Barbara S-Savannah?” Theo echoed, the name so famous that even he’d heard of her. Anyone who had ears and had been around a radio at least once in their lifetime would have heard of her. “Isn’t she, l-like, eighty years old?”
“Something like that. Still performing though.” The pop star sounded genuinely impressed. “Here’s hoping I still have that much energy fifty years from now.” Theo struggled to imagine Lysander ever not brimming with energy, even as a shriveled old man. Who was he kidding? Lysander would probably still be hot even at a hundred. Though he might not still have every strand of golden hair by then.
Swallowing back a titter, Theo cast his gaze about the bedroom from his vantage for a few moments, trying to come up with something else to ask about. Truthfully, it just felt wonderful to hear Lysander’s voice. Especially considering Lysander was actually listening and responding to him, not just ‘speaking’ to him through something pre-recorded.
Then, taking notice of the fact that he was alone in their apartment right now with nary a friend or stranger around to overhear, he grinned a little wider then asked, “Wh-where are you right now? Still in your h-hotel room?”
“Yeees?” Lysander confirmed in a drawl, his tone indicating that he already caught what direction Theo was heading with his inquiry.
Theo practically giggled in response, clamping his lips together and composing himself before he said with false nonchalance, “I see. And…are you c-currently alone in your room?”
“No, everyone’s over. We’re actually having a party right now.” The singer’s pretense collapsed immediately as he huffed a laugh then said, “No, of course I’m alone. Why? You want to exchange embarrassing secrets?”
Damnit. He was going to make Theo explicitly say it, wasn’t he? “N-No. I want to ‘help you relax’.”
The slight, excited intake of breath from the other side of the phone had Theo smiling hugely. “Well, I am pretty stressed out right now,” Lysander admitted, not sounding stressed out at all. “What do you propose I should do about that stress…master?”
The way his lover purred the ‘pet name’ immediately shot Theo through with a bolt of lust so intense that he almost groaned. He suddenly felt very naked, all his awareness pinpointing on his unsheathed cock. It twitched where it lay against one of his thighs, already beginning to harden. Jesus…it’d been a day and a half since his boyfriend had last fucked him senseless. Was he really this libidinous? Had his horny pop star lover turned him into a pervert, too?
“Theo?” Lysander said uncertainly, and Theo realized he’d zoned out, his consciousness completely focusing on the strong and sudden urge to touch his cock.
He needed to get his lover just as pent-up first, though, so he’d have to wait. “Tell me what the r-room looks like,” he instructed, closing his eyes again as he prepared to paint a picture in his mind.
“The room? Umm, let’s see…” The singer trailed off for a few moments, and Theo assumed he was piecing together the right descriptors as he observed his surroundings. “Well, it’s not super fancy, since we’re not on the Strip,” he began at last, sounding a little far away as if the receiver wasn’t right next to his mouth anymore. “There’s, uh, a single king-size bed, a dark wood nightstand, a cabinet with a TV on it, two armchairs next to the window with a reading lamp hanging over a circular coffee table between them…”
“Mmhmm?” Theo prompted, letting all the building ardor he had within him slip into his tone. He still wouldn’t let himself touch his genitals, but he started stroking his chest, trying to convince himself it was his lover’s hand instead of his own. “What c-color’s the carpet?”
Lysander laughed at that, then fell quiet again before saying curiously, “I’m not sure how to describe it. Sort of chaotic? Brown and black and red triangles on top of each other. Honestly, it’s hideous. I’m glad we’ll be out of here tomorrow morning so I don’t have to look at it again.”
Theo echoed his laugh, momentarily startled out of his mounting desire. Damnit, Lysander was making it hard to be sexy, teasing him into laughter like that. He decided to be a little more direct.
“What’s the b-bed cover feel like?” he asked, then added, “You should p-probably take your pants off so you can s-see how it really feels.”
Lysander said nothing in immediate response to that; Theo instead heard the clink of metal, probably a belt buckle being undone, then the rustle of fabric. The tonal quality indicated that it was happening some distance away from the phone, and rather hurriedly.
“Mmm. Kinda rough,” his boyfriend finally answered his inquiry, the affected indifference of his tone belied by his slightly rapid breathing. “Bet it’s barely even 200-thread count.”
“Spoiled brat,” Theo giggled. “What happened to ‘w-we’re lucky if we get to sleep in a bed, p-period’?”
“I’m just saying. You’re the one who asked,” Lysander replied a little poutily. “What else should I describe? …Should I tell you how hard I already am?”
It was Theo’s turn to have his breath catch in his throat, penis twitching in a reciprocal approach to hardness. “Are you?” he said, with effort keeping his tone passive. “How interesting. Wonder h-how hard we can get your dick without you being allowed to t-touch it.” The singer groaned frustratedly at that, and Theo bit his lip in capricious pleasure, his own forestalled ardor comforted by the knowledge that he was starting to make his boyfriend squirm.
“Cruel master,” Lysander chided, a little airlessly. His breathing hitched again, and Theo thought that maybe he was disobeying Theo’s order and already stroking himself.
“Turn over,” Theo commanded, figuring it would be harder for Lysander to pump his cock if it was crushed into the bed. “Tell me h-how the cover feels brushed against your n-nipples.”
More rustling; Theo heard sheets rubbing against each other, and it did indeed sound like coarse material. Hopefully his lover’s sweet, tender skin wouldn’t be too badly bruised from having to sleep in it one more night.
“Rough,” Lysander confirmed, his breathing tight. “It’s…making them…sensitive.”
“Rub against them. Against the c-covers.” Since he knew their own bedding was considerably softer, Theo didn’t bother flopping over to mimic his lover’s presumed pose. Instead, he performed his next directive on himself as he said it. “Pinch them.”
Lysander replied with a soft moan, and Theo squirmed a little as he kept his eyes closed, imagining his lover’s tall, broad-shouldered form laying stomach-down on the coarse-grained bedspread with the ugly carpet underneath him, muscular planes gilded by bright light streaming in through a large window overlooking the Nevada desert. “Theo,” Lysander breathed after another moan, his tone strained. “Master. Please, let me touch myself.”
“No,” Theo denied him, smiling wider than ever. The thought of exerting control over his lover even from hundreds of miles away, with no actual power over him other than what Lysander chose to give him, was as amusing as it was arousing. “Not yet. N-not your dick.” He considered, then, “T-touch your ass instead. Rub the outside of your a-asshole.”
Unlike sheets, it was harder to hear through the phone if skin brushed against skin. But judging by the sounds Lysander was making, muffled as if he had his mouth pressed into a pillow, he seemed to be following Theo's instructions to a T.
Because he was the master, and not the pet, Theo figured he deserved more autonomy over how much he allowed himself to touch his own body. It took too much effort to keep the phone in place with one shoulder pressing it to his cheek, so he switched it to speakerphone, set it a little ways away on the mattress, then turned around to kneel on the mattress. He angled himself so that one hand was free to wrap around his shaft while his other glided a finger between his own ass cheeks.
“G-go inside,” Theo commanded, not caring if he sounded breathless. “T-two knuckles deep.”
Lysander loosed a faint laugh, sounding rueful. “Can I get lube first?” he asked a little plaintively. “My ass is a little too tight to jump straight to that.”
Remembering explicitly just how tight his lover’s firm ass was, Theo grumbled a bit, then allowed benevolently, “Fine. But s-still no touching your dick.” He decided that maybe lube was a good idea on his own end, so he reached into the nearer nightstand and pulled out a bottle of it. He tried not to dwell on the last time Lysander’s hands must have touched the bottle.
Even if he wasn’t physically in the same room with his lover at the moment, he was still connected to him through verbal communication, and wasn’t that the most important thing? Besides, he’d both fucked and been fucked by his boyfriend enough times at that point to very well imagine what every part of his lover must have looked like at that moment.
“Are you touching your ass?” Theo probed after his lover had been silent for a little too long—maybe he’d had some trouble getting to his suitcases to locate the lubricant Theo had no doubt he’d brought along with him as easily as Theo had located his.
“Yeah,” Lysander confirmed belatedly, a little winded as if he’d just darted back across the room to resume the phone call. He, too, sounded as if he’d switched to speakerphone, but Theo supposed that was a better idea than getting lube all over the screen. “Ah, god, Theo…”
“What does it f-feel like?” Theo asked, sticking his own fingers inside of himself, first one, then two. Unlike Lysander, Theo had grown used to bottoming nine times out of ten, and he liked to think he was pretty good at relaxing his inner walls to take in whatever size phallic object he was currently interacting with without feeling discomfort. He was capable enough of taking in his lover’s cock while still taking pleasure from it, and that thing was huge.
“Mmh…amazing…” Lysander made an incoherent noise after that, and Theo grinned as he bit back a moan. “Not as…amazing as…your dick, though.”
Theo’s smile faltered, and he almost snorted derisively. There Lysander went again, calling everything about him ‘amazing’. It made it very hard to believe any of his compliments, since Lysander seemed to find every part of him ‘amazing’, from his face to his form to his much more modestly-sized penis.
But he didn’t let himself give voice to that complaint, knowing it would only irritate Lysander. Instead he said, “Imagine it is my dick, th-then. Pushing into you. S-slow, gentle. Filling you up. Do you feel filled up?”
Another strangled noise loosed out of the singer, jolting Theo through with lust. Though they weren’t as big as his dick of course, Lysander’s hands were pretty large, too, and his fingers were long and calloused. Theo could well remember what those fingers felt like in his own ass. Definitely more satisfying than his own much slimmer fingers. Ah, fuck, he missed his boyfriend’s fingers. Missed his dick most of all, but he’d have settled for being touched by any part of him at that moment.
Realizing he was being unfair—and that Lysander didn’t have all the time in the world to enjoy phone sex before he’d be expected to show up at the stadium and perform for a bajillion people, hopefully sated at least for that night if Theo did this right—he took pity on his boyfriend and said, “Okay, you can t-turn now. Sideways, on your h-heels…whatever. Don’t take your fingers out, though. Use your other hand to s-stroke your dick.”
“Finally,” Lysander gusted, left the phone alone for a moment, fabric rustling as he moved. His voice sounded further away still, as if his chin were tilted up and his head leaning back in pleasure, as he said, “Oh, fuck, Theo. It feels so good. Your dick feels so good.”
A disbelieving titter almost escaped from Theo; apparently his boyfriend had a more fertile imagination than he’d given him credit for. He decided to play along. “Yeah? As g-good as my mouth on your c-cock?” In the real world, the position would have been impossible, of course. Not unless Theo had developed some kind of fantastical twisting powers…no, that was a disturbing mental image. He was thinking too much about it. Just go with the fantasy, damnit. “Mmm. Cum for me, b-baby. Cum in my mouth.”
Lysander groaned hard at that, and Theo almost thought that maybe he’d cum already. But then he heard movement, furious rustling, moans and gasps and a whole cacophony of amorous sounds. His boyfriend seemed to be enjoying himself quite thoroughly, and Theo decided to follow suit, even if he wasn’t quite as capable of imagining his hands were his lover’s body parts instead.
Actually, fingers weren’t really doing it for him, and his thoughts turned towards going to the bureau drawer and getting out a dildo instead. Probably the big, veiny, purple one that was almost as glorious as the real thing. Ah, but that wasn’t fair on Lysander. Who most likely did have a dildo or three somewhere in his luggage, but Theo didn’t want to take away from his remaining time sending him on a quest to find them.
Besides, Lysander already sounded like he was on the very verge of cumming. So he decided to pace himself out of solidarity, at least until they concluded their phone sex; he’d have plenty of time to fuck himself silly with toys once Lysander had left to get ready for his show.
“Theo,” Lysander groaned out loudly in that way he almost always did as he came, and Theo loosed his own moan as he imagined his lover’s body held rigid, hovering on his knees with one hand wrapped around his dick and the other shoved halfway up his ass. Which part of him had orgasmed? His penis? His prostate? Both?
“Did you g-get the bed all dirty?” Theo inquired teasingly, though he had to stop stroking himself for a moment to gather the breath to speak.
“Mmm. Maybe. A bit. Hopefully the maids don’t get mad.” The singer only sounded amused, despite his pretense of contrition. “If only you were actually here, so I could have cum on your face instead.”
Theo’s eyes flew wide at that, and despite his fears that his own limbs weren’t enough to stimulate himself into orgasm, they apparently were after all. He moaned as he jerked forward, ass clenching around his fingers, dick thrusting into his other hand as cum spurted out of him onto their own bedspread. “Shit,” he gasped afterward, laughing breathlessly. “N-now I need to call our maid.”
A warm, contented hum sounded over the phone. “Maybe next time,” Lysander began, his tone back to a sultry purr, “We should do this in the shower. Much less cleanup.”
Theo burst into a laugh. “The sh-shower? My phone would break.”
“That’s why you wear Bluetooth earbuds, silly.” Lysander was probably smiling. He was always smiling. “I’m sure there are waterproof ones out there. Should I have Cindy buy us some?”
“Ugh. Don’t m-mention your assistant at a time like th-this!!” The last of his ardor draining out of him, Theo flung onto his backside next to where he’d made a mess, panting for a moment or two. “So. Do you feel ‘r-relaxed’?”
“A little. Do you think I’ll do okay tonight? I won’t…forget the lyrics, or fall off the stage?”
Shaking off the momentary horror of imagining Lysander doing either of those things, Theo insisted with quiet confidence, “No, you w-wont. You’ll be magical. Mesmerizing. You’ll d-do every part perfectly, and all your fans will be c-crying at how beautiful it all is.”
A low chuckle rumbled from the phone. “I wish I’d had you with me for all the past shows. I could have used your pep talks. Hey, when it’s over, I’ll ask one of the techs to send you some photos. To show you I’ve got the charm you gave me hanging from my guitar strap, like I promised.”
He’d really meant to do something as silly as that? Feeling a swell of tenderness in his chest, Theo let the full width of his smile break free. “Okay,” he said contentedly, then, “I love you s-so much. Go be amazing, L-Lysander Delion.”
What he would have given to see his boyfriend’s face at that moment, even in digital form. Ah, he should have asked for a video chat, even if it would have made assuming a position to give himself pleasure while staying in frame a challenge. Next time.
“I’ll do my best.” A heavy pause, full, maybe, of love, longing. “I love you more, my sun and stars.”
