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Isaac Lahey loved his hot showers. No, really, there was nothing better in his book for soothing muscle aches and the exhaustion of a hard day's work. Or a hard lacrosse practice. Coach Finstock was insane. The way he pushed the lacrosse team seriously had to be illegal. There was no way he was allowed to make them run so much. Or do so many sit ups. Isaac ran a hand down his sore stomach. At that pace, he'd have better abs than Derek Fucking Hale, and that was no small feat. His thoughts went back to the goalie, Danny. Poor guy, he had to catch so many balls that day, Isaac was sure he'd have nightmares that night.
Isaac snorted. Danny catching balls. He chuckled quietly. Why was he so witty when there was nobody around?
The scalding water took care of that. A faithful companion, she was always there for him. Mmmmm, hot showers.
There was a loud noise coming from the locker-room (a crash, his mind helpfully supplied), and two very angry growls. Isaac sighed heavily as he pressed his forehead against the cold tile, defeated. One shower. Just one fucking shower without someone trying to kill someone else. He turned off the tap with a mournful gaze. Goodbye, sweet lover, until we meet again in the morn's embrace. Or in a little while, whatever.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and made sure it was properly secured. He got the feeling he was going to get physical.
Once he stepped into the locker-room, he saw an entire row of lockers just knocked down (for like, the twenty-seventh time), a bunch of weights and dumbbells scattered across the floor and two hot, shirtless men doing far too much fighting and far too little kissing. Anger and frustration cloyed the entire place like smoke. Scott McCall was holding a banged-up bench up as a shield, while Jackson Whittemore was throwing weights at him like they could actually harm him. They bounced semi-harmlessly off McCall's makeshift shield. Isaac sighed again as he calmly waited for Whittemore to run out of ammo.
"Face it, McCall!" Jackson spat at him angrily. "Your girlfriend is over you."
"Shut up!" Scott angrily growled at him.
"She fucked Lydia, Erica and three other people whose names I don't even remember!" Jackson wasn't gloating, he sounded more exasperated than anything.
"You LIAR!" Scott replied with the eloquence of a rabid dog, throwing his bench at Jackson in a fit of pique. The blond jock deflected it with his forearm.
"That's right, McCall, she fucked Erica, a fucking little werewolf like you, but she won't touch your sorry ass." Scott launched himself at Jackson, but Whittemore sidestepped the blind charge easily. "And I am sick and tired of you dragging the whole fucking team down with your sulky little bitchfits," Jackson continued, undaunted, as he sidestepped another charge, "because you can't deal with a fucking breakup. People break up with you, McCall. It's what they do. Because you're pathetic. Get. Over. It."
Scott didn't respond so much as he howled with strangled rage. Isaac decided the poor guy had had enough truth beaten into him, and stepped between them. Which was perfect timing, because Scott was just about to pounce Jackson like a lion going in for the kill.
"Boys, boys," Isaac called out, strutting into the room like he was some sort of fashion model and not a regular dude in a towel, "let's not do this every practice. Coach Finstock's not buying any more lies." That got Scott and Jackson to stop and fix a pair of confused stares on him. Good, score for Isaac.
"Lahey," Jackson said, "good. Help me drive some sense into McCall before we lose the championship."
"Jackson's right, Scott," Isaac began, before being hit full-force by Scott's trademark puppy eyes. It felt like a punch to the gut. So he turned to Whittemore. "But you're an asshole."
Scott's face lit up a little, but Jackson shrugged nonchalantly, as if to say "that's just the way it is."
He stepped in between them, just to put an end to the fighting for good, and wrapped an arm around each of the two dudes' shoulders. He was going to let them in on a little secret. "Listen, half the reason you fight is because you're both sexually frustrated," Isaac began, feeling them both stiffening under his arms, "it's okay, guys, it's no secret. Scott's always pining after Allison and Jackson's been wearing his psycho face a bit too much lately," he stated with a casual shrug. It was really no big deal.
"What? I don't-" both said at the same time and stopped abruptly at realising they had had the same reaction. Isaac couldn't suppress a chuckle.
"See? Now, the other half is your damn competitiveness. You two have been at each other's throats since you were made co-captains." He paused. For effect. "See, what you two don't realise is that fighting doesn't resolve either of those things!" he revealed, like a magician showing his audience that the girl he had sawed in half was actually very much whole.
Jackson arched an eyebrow. "And you're going to tell us an alternative." It wasn't a question. The arm Isaac had been keeping around Jackson's shoulders patted him in appreciation.
"Good guess. See, what I have in mind is simple. Sex!" he announced cockily. Well, he tried. He'd be lying if he said he was completely sure of how everything was going to turn out. He was playing a very risky gambit with the two hotheaded, presumably straight werewolves.
"With who?" Scott asked, utterly confused and Isaac loved him a little for it. He was just so fucking adorable he wanted to kiss him. Jackson merely groaned in utter annoyance.
Isaac turned towards Scott, brought him a bit closer with his arm, and leaned to plant the chastest kiss he could muster on the guy's cheek. "With me," he whispered in what he hoped was a sexy, husky voice, and then pulled back to see Scott's reaction. McCall was stunned, but a deep red flush had made its way to the boy's entire face, and Isaac counted that as a win. A sexy-ass win.
So he turned to Jackson, unable to keep the smirk off his face. "Fuck no," the uptight jock said, as if it was out of the question.
"Fine, that just makes McCall winner by default," Isaac replied with the smugness of someone with the upper hand. He turned back to Scott, who was still trying to process the whole thing, and nuzzled the crook of the boy's neck, letting the tip of his tongue run all the way up alongside Scott's jugular. Scott smelled really good. A little sweaty, but musky and spicy, with a hint of sweetness. Isaac had come to associate vanilla and cinnamon with McCall's scent. Scott shivered and let out a shaky breath. Isaac turned back to Jackson, who was glaring daggers at him. "It's good that you're giving up," he continued conversationally, "you really don't stand a chance against him." Isaac felt Scott's entire body radiating heat, and it didn't take a werewolf's nose to tell the guy was pleased.
Jackson let out a gargled noise, a cross between a snort, a sneer and a scoff. "There's no way McCall had enough sex with Allison to catch up with me, much less with her father breathing down their necks," he said dismissively.
"There's more to sex than experience, Jackson," Isaac said with a smirk, "like eagerness," he said, feeling a bit silly, as if he was quoting a terrible romance novel. So he decided to shift his tone a little. He leant towards Jackson, who still hadn't made a move to escape from under his arm, and dropped his voice to the lowest whisper he could manage (he knew Scott could hear it all the same, of course, but that wasn't the point: sex was all about the right mood). "Like the faces he'd make when he's being sucked off or fucked," he inched closer to Jackson's ear, admiring the way the other guy kept his composure (even as arousal pulsed from his skin in waves), "like the way he'd moan with something really tight around his cock," Isaac inched closer, his lips ghosting over Jackson's ears, "would you really do better than that?"
There was a pause, as Isaac pulled back from Jackson to look at Scott, whose skin had suddenly become very hot under his arm. Scott was torn between embarrassment and arousal, or perhaps embarrassment because of arousal. Isaac smirked again. Scott was just all sorts of awesome.
Jackson tried to huff, but it came out eerily similar to one of McCall's shaky breaths. "Of course," he declared firmly, "I'm the fucking best there is."
Isaac tried to avoid widening his smirk too much. He already had them, he just had to carefully reel them in. "Prove it, then," he said, as he lowered his arms down the jocks' backs, fingers kneading at the hard muscle. Jackson turned to look at Isaac in the eye and Isaac gave him his most disbelieving half-smirk, as he tilted his chin up, wordlessly challenging Jackson to do something about the whole thing. Jackson narrowed his eyes. Challenge accepted.
Isaac didn't bother hiding the grin from his face as he sunk to his knees. Licking his lips slowly, deliberately, he started pulling down Scott and Jackson's uniform shorts. The tents in them were so obvious he had to stifle a chuckle. He had nailed them both perfectly with the "sexual frustration" part. Under the dark red shorts, the jockstraps the two were wearing were strained to the limits of their elastic waistbands. Jackson's jockstrap had a tiny stain just over the fabric that confined the head of his cock, while Scott's stain was considerably larger. Pulling the jockstraps down rewarded Isaac with almost simultaneous slaps, two rock-hard cocks pulled down until the heads were aiming at the floor, and then released from their prison to smack wetly against really nice abs. Isaac smiled, pleased, as Jackson and Scott blinked in surprise almost simultaneously. That had been a moment of epic coordination on his part.
Isaac had never seen Scott or Jackson hard before, but he definitely liked what he saw. Jackson's cock was longer and straighter, and his pale skin meant it looked a very pretty dark red (almost purple); while Scott's cock was definitely thicker, darker and had a nice upward curve. Isaac wrapped his hands around both erections, giving them a tentative squeeze and a few slow strokes, to test the waters. Jackson remained cool and vaguely unimpressed, while Scott started biting his lower lip to keep himself from moaning. Isaac licked his lips again and gave Scott's cock a tentative lick over the slit. The taste of precome, strong and tangy, hit Isaac's tongue in full, but he was starting to get used to it. He wrapped his lips around the cock's head and brought the hand that was stroking the shaft to meet them. With smooth synchronisation, he took more of Scott's length into his mouth as his stroked downward, giving Scott the sensation that he was taking more than would actually fit in his mouth.
"Nnngh," Scott moaned through gritted teeth. Jackson huffed in exasperation and rolled his eyes.
Isaac let Scott go after a few moments, and turned to repeat his moves on Jackson, who let out an appreciative groan but remained far more composed.
"Move closer," Isaac instructed them, guiding their cocks together.
Once the two could be as close as it was physically possible, cocks pressing together, Isaac held them tip to tip and pressed his tongue, wide and wet, against both slits. Scott immediately gripped Jackson's arm. Isaac repeated the motion, lapping at the two round, smooth heads with his tongue. Their precome mingled in Isaac's tongue, and the kneeling werewolf couldn't get his eyes off the other two, the way Jackson's entire body was tense, as if he was willing himself to remain a statue; or the way Scott had no such restraints, and was clinging to Jackson like a lifeline as he panted.
Isaac took both cocks into his mouth, trying his best to swirl his tongue around them and feeling his mouth spread wide to accommodate both shafts. It was frankly uncomfortable, but he loved the reactions he was getting from the other two. Jackson's stoic façade was beginning to crack, as beads of sweat appeared on his flawless skin. Scott had buried his face on Jackson's shoulder and clutched him like he was drowning. Isaac felt his chest swelling with pride. It was such a dizzying sensation, but made the slight discomfort totally worth it.
Once Isaac felt the two had got used to his technique, he tilted Jackson's cock up and went back one-on-one with Scott's, taking as much as he could into his mouth (which wasn't much: being a werewolf did nothing to get rid of one's gag reflex). After some coughing, Isaac was forced to admit to himself he was awesome, but not THAT awesome, and that he wasn't going to be a pro at deepthroating with the mediocre practice he had had. Disappointed, he turned back to Jackson and gave it another go, trying to pace himself a bit.
He interspersed his attentions to their actual cocks with some licking and light sucking on their sacs. They were sweaty, but Isaac liked it. Made him feel like the whole thing was hotter and dirtier than it really was. Jackson's was smaller but cuter, like a perfect little pouch that Isaac could tongue and suckle from practically any angle. Scott's, on the other hand, hung lower and a bit bigger, and had this adorable tendency to withdraw to his body and then relax again when things got too arousing. Isaac had seen that in porn a couple of times and had always found it delightful in a playful way; and was currently amused by the way he could lick at one of Scott's balls and feel the entire sac withdrawing a little, before it relaxed and touched Isaac's tongue again. It was a bit unfair, but it kept Isaac biased a little towards McCall.
When he went back to Scott for the fifth or seventh time, Jackson was spewing fumes.
"Shut the fuck up, McCall," he growled, unable to keep the envy from his voice. Scott was moaning heartily against the blonde's shoulder, his entire body responding to Isaac's licks and strokes. "Stop being such a fucking slut."
Isaac let Scott's cock go and looked up. "I don't know, Jackson, I really like sluts. He's beating you by a mile so far," he teased with a grin.
"Shut up and go back to sucking," Jackson snapped at him, clearly displeased. Isaac chuckled and took Jackson's shaft into his mouth again. Even with slow, lazy strokes, Scott continued gasping and groaning like he was still incredibly close to his climax. Remembering werewolves had a lot of stamina and recovered quickly, Isaac decided he'd take pity on Scott and help him come. After all, it wasn't like the poor guy didn't deserve it.
With a wet pop, Isaac released Jackson's hardness and turned to Scott's, giving the head a long, slow lick as he drew the other guy's attention. "Hey, Scott," Isaac muttered, noticing down the corner of his eye how every full stroke drew a bead of precome on the slit. Scott disentangled himself from Jackson and looked down, eyes half-lidded and a vacant gaze. "I want you to come in my mouth," Isaac told him playfully, as he took in Scott's erection, his eyes fixed on Scott's reaction.
Scott's dick felt very hot in his mouth, heavy and wide, gliding in and out so smoothly. Isaac's palms were a mess of precome and spit, but that just made the whole thing easier. Wet squelching sounds came from every stroke, which sounded filthy and hot even over Scott's raspy, hoarse moans and Jackson's panting respiration. Scott gripped both of Isaac's shoulders as his entire body tensed. Isaac increased his pace even further, miraculously remembering to continue his strokes on Jackson's cock to avoid making the other guy feel left out. Out of the corner of his eye, Isaac noticed Scott's knees shaking as he let out a strangled cry and filled Isaac's mouth with hot, bitter seed. It took Isaac by surprise, he could barely keep up, swallowing as Scott pumped what felt like a lot of come. Isaac made a mental note to brace himself next time he sucked off a werewolf (though he supposed in reality it hadn't been that much, the surprise factor had counted for quite a bit). Before Scott was actually fully done with his orgasm, his legs gave way and he collapsed to his knees, panting heavily as his cock spurted the last few streams of come on Isaac's tented towel.
Scott clung to Isaac even harder than he had previously clung to Jackson, pressing his forehead against Isaac's chest as he struggled to regain a semblance of composure. Isaac dipped to kiss at Scott's sweaty neck, muttering "That was good," as a reassuring compliment. Scott lifted his head and gave Isaac a half-smile. Isaac leaned to plant a small kiss on Scott's lips, leaving a trace of Scott's own come behind. Scott licked his lips in surprise and blinked as he figured out what had just happened. Isaac grinned at him, complicitly. The two exchanged amused looks before Scott leaned forward to kiss Isaac, this time properly, open mouthed and tongues wrestling (and Scott gasping a little because the full flavour was different than the trace he had just tasted, but it was not that bad). There was muffled moaning. Isaac was so fucking hard.
Jackson coughed, and the other two broke their kiss, a tiny string of come-spit hanging between their shiny, slightly swollen lips.
"Not that the view isn't hot," Jackson said honestly, probably caught by surprise, "because okay, fuck, it is," he admitted with a hilarious amount of difficulty, "but... uh..." and he looked down, leading their gazes to his cock, Isaac's hand still around it (but unmoving).
Isaac smirked at Jackson, giving his cock a few slow strokes. "Have either of you ever bottomed before?" he asked nonchalantly. Scott shook his head.
"Of course not," Jackson replied, oh so full of bravado. Turns out lying to a couple of werewolves isn't always the best idea, because Scott's face instantly reflected no small amount of shock, while Isaac just rolled his eyes.
"Interested in giving it a try?" Isaac asked them, though his eyes were fixed on Scott. The guy looked at Isaac with curiosity and a touch of arousal, before nodding carefully. Isaac grinned so wide his face almost hurt, then turned to Jackson. "Looks like you're getting upstaged over and over," he teased the blond jock, who glared at him from above.
"Fuck you, I'll show McCall how it's done," he uttered through gritted teeth. Isaac couldn't believe his luck. Erica would be so proud. Now granted, he was still far from beating her record of two girls and three guys at the same time, but hey, a start was a start. "Got any lube?" Jackson asked gruffly, putting on a tough guy 'let's get this over with' façade. Isaac thought it was adorable. Not Scott levels of adorable, of course, but adorable all the same.
"Sure, Danny's locker always has some," Isaac replied with a smug 'go on, make a comment' grin. And Jackson never disappointed.
"What? How do you know that?" Jackson asked, proving Isaac the dude still cared, a little, about who his best friend was fucking.
"Well, I don't know if you've noticed," Isaac began, rising to his feet, "but Danny's had a pretty nasty breakup recently," he commented as he sauntered towards Danny's locker. He opened it with a click and grabbed the bottle of lube without even looking, just to show off how familiar he was with it. Jackson's glare was totally worth it. "Someone had to help him get over it, and you" he announced, walking back towards the other two (McCall still on the floor, staring dazedly at Isaac), "have been a pretty shitty friend lately."
"Fuck you, you fucking... jock-slut," Jackson spat venomously in his direction, though Isaac counted that as another win for him. Jackson seriously needed to take better care of his friends.
Isaac merely righted an upside down bench and gestured Scott to take a seat before turning back to Jackson. "Huh. Does that mean I'm a jock who's a slut or a slut who's into jocks?" he pondered, oozing faux dramatics. As Jackson graced him with a death glare, he answered his own question, "Nevermind, I'm actually both." And he grinned. Because fuck if he was going to let Jackson get to him.
Isaac turned back to Scott, who was looking at him expectantly. "Go ahead," he told Isaac, as he lay back on the bench, arms and legs hanging limply off the sides. Scott's half-hard cock rested on his perfect abs, like a sleeping beast. It had smeared a little come on Scott's skin, and Isaac couldn't wait to get it hard again.
"Lift your knees for me," he whispered to Scott, his arousal and excitement getting the better of him for once.
Scott obeyed wordlessly, pulling his knees up to his chest. Isaac was in the process of dripping some lube on his fingers, but he was distracted by Scott's smooth, squeezable cheeks and the adorable ring of muscle, which had visibly tightened as if to say 'none shall pass.' Isaac wondered with utmost seriousness if Scott McCall's adorableness had an actual end. His superhuman hearing caught the sound of lube dripping on the floor and he realised he was making a right mess of himself. With a quick motion, he capped the bottle and smeared the liquid between all his fingers, making sure they were coated all the way up to the knuckle. He pressed the pad of his index finger against Scott's hole, making smooth circular motions to spread the lube around. Scott gasped, clearly expecting it to hurt horribly or something.
Isaac turned back to Jackson, who was lazily jacking off, and gestured at another bench nearby. "Pull that up and lie down on my left," he told the blonde, "so I can do the same for you."
Jackson seemed to consider it for a moment (a moment of rebellion?) before he eventually complied and placed himself on the other side of Isaac, imitating McCall's position. His hands almost completely covered in lube, Isaac needed only to reach towards Jackson and start slowly massaging the outer rim of his hole. Isaac took his time with Scott, but he felt Jackson's ring of muscle relaxing after very little time, letting him slip a knuckle or two easily. Scott was so tense he felt like one of Allison's bows, taut and almost vibrating with restrained force. Isaac knew it'd be useless to tell the guy to relax (it'd only make things worse), so he focused on distracting McCall from his own nervousness. He planted kisses on Scott's raised thighs, long licks and playful nibbles, before going down between them to run paths back and forth over his sac. When he felt Scott's entrance finally relaxing, he slipped the first knuckle and felt it clenching again.
Isaac knew more desperate measures were required. "Fuck, Scott, man, you look... so good like this," he said honestly, his voice dry and husky as he tried to convey just how much Scott's flushed, tense form made his cock almost ache with want. Scott turned his head to look at him for the first time since the fingering had started, and he looked somewhat surprised (as if he didn't get Isaac was telling the absolute truth, as if he was surprised by the absence of a lie). Scott grinned at him, flattered, and Isaac couldn't help his lips from unwittingly mimicking the goofy grin. He tired to hide it by licking the inside of Scott's thigh, but failed. He felt his cheeks burning hot, not really knowing why. He was cooler than that, dammit! But the self-chastisement had no bite. He liked Scott. He was allowed to yank the rug from under Isaac's feet from time to time.
Much to Isaac's surprise, Scott's entrance relaxed again and he inadvertently slid his entire finger inside, all the way to the last knuckle. He looked up, alarmed, but Scott seemed to have willed himself to relax on purpose. "Another one," Scott whispered hungrily, and Isaac's cock twitched, spurting a bit of pre against the towel because yeah, really fucking hot. On the other side, Jackson was already taking two fingers easily, Isaac scissoring them without hearing a single protest. He tried for a third and there was barely a grunt. 'Never bottomed,' yeah, right.
So Isaac added another lubed finger to Scott's entrance, carefully and slowly, drawing a hiss and a husky "Yeah..." from Scott. Jackson was taking three slick fingers pumping in and out of him like a champ, but he wanted to get Scott properly stretched before he started fucking either of them, so he added a fourth finger to Jackson's ass and smirked as the blond jock groaned and grunted from something he was apparently not that used to. Scott, on the other hand, was already rocking his hips to get more of Isaac's fingers inside, which Isaac rewarded by spreading the two digits inside Scott as wide as possible. Scott's breath hitched and then he groaned, long and low, in the back of his throat. Before introducing a third finger, Isaac pressed his tongue against Scott's taint, to distract him from the discomfort of being stretched that wide. Scott took it in surprising stride, tilting his hips up encouragingly even as his breathing turned into light panting and beads of sweat started appearing over his pecs and abs.
Seizing the opportunity, Isaac started moving both hands in unison, feeling the incredibly hot tightness around his fingers contract and yield almost simultaneously, and trying desperately hard (and failing) not to imagine how both of them would feel around his cock. Confident that stretching was no longer an issue, he started experimenting with twisting and curving his fingers inside them, trying to find that area that felt like a hard lump, but knew from anatomy lessons was the almighty prostate. He found Jackson's first, grazed it with his fingertips once and then returned to it press on it as if it was a button on a machine, rather than a very sensitive area. Jackson's reaction was instantaneous, a loud "OH FUCK" and a thump as he bounced his head off the bench. Isaac turned his head from nuzzling Scott's thigh just in time to see Jackson's practically purple cock spurting an impressive jet of precome, which fell in tiny beads all over his chiselled chest.
A very wicked idea crossed Isaac's head at that moment, which was enough to get him to stop thinking about Scott for a moment. He turned to Jackson fully and pressed on his prostate again, this time not letting go. He made small circular motions with the tip of his fingers, but crooked them so as to exert as much pressure on Jackson's prostate as he could.
"FUCK, JUST, OH FUCK" Jackson let out a litany of curses and grave, hoarse moans.
It took him practically nothing. Within seconds, Jackson's dick was twitching and pulsing like an unmanned hose, sending jets of come straight up to the ceiling. Isaac was frankly very impressed when the first shot actually did hit the ceiling. The rest of them arched over Jackson and hit the floor and bench behind him. The last few shots got Jackson's hair, cheek, neck, chest and stomach, but Isaac thought they made Jackson look really good. Come-splattered was a look Jackson carried really, really well. Isaac removed his fingers from Jackson's hole with a wet squelch, tearing a pleasured groan from the jock. Jackson looked at Isaac (half-lidded, exhausted) for the first time with something vaguely resembling respect. Apparently it took that much to impress Jackson. Go figure.
Isaac returned to Scott, who had watched the whole thing with wide eyes and mouth gaping, as if the very concept of a dude coming like a geyser without his dick being touched had blown his fucking mind. Isaac grinned at him, suddenly proud he had impressed both of them with the same act. It had been a pretty daring, somewhat difficult act too, but he had pulled through in the end. He returned his attention to the incredibly hot tightness around his fingers and started moving them around, determined to show Scott what he had done to Jackson. It actually took him longer than he expected, Scott's tightness made things very confusing for Isaac, even if he knew more or less where to look. Jackson had just slumped limply on the bench, letting Isaac experiment with Scott at their leisure.
Isaac realised he had found Scott's prostate by the full-body twitch Scott did, more than by tact alone. It was very brief, but enough to orient Isaac as to where the damn thing was in the end. Once he felt the distinct resistance under his fingertips, pressing against it had Scott practically writhing on the bench, clear precome snaking between his ab muscles.
"That's what he felt," Isaac found himself saying. He wanted Scott to understand, he wanted to expand Scott's mind so badly it felt almost like an itch. Scott deserved better than near-virginal innocence, he deserved better than missionary sex with some hunter girl, he deserved every lewd act Isaac had ever seen in porn, every source of pleasure he had ever heard of. "I could get you off like this," he told Scott, vaguely alarmed by the rawness of his own voice. "Do you want me to?"
Scott shook his head. "Fuck me," he rasped brokenly, and Isaac lost it. He tore off his towel and threw it away as though it had been on fire. He fumbled for the bottle of lube like a nervous spaz (not like the smooth, sexy werewolf he thought he was), and squirted far more lube than necessary on his aching erection. The coolness of the liquid helped a little. It only took a couple of stokes to spread the slippery liquid, but he almost felt he didn't need it, with the way he was dripping precome. He climbed onto the bench and hoisted Scott's legs over his shoulders, pressing the tip of his cock against the slightly swollen ring of muscle.
"S-sure?" Isaac asked, cursing himself inwardly for sounding so amateurish.
Scott nodded and gripped Isaac's arms with a death grip. Isaac slid the tip in, feeling Scott's entrance distending, almost against its will, to let him in. Scott's eyes glowed gold for a moment, before the werewolf got himself under control. Isaac pushed a bit further and Scott's too-tight hole swallowed the head hungrily, holding it in a vice-grip. Isaac almost came right then and there, and had to hold both of Scott's legs with one hand in order to drive a claw into his thigh as a way to fight back the arousal. He saw Scott's concerned gaze at what he assumed was the scent of fresh blood.
"I'm fine, just..." Isaac muttered, "wanna hold back," he explained poorly. He saw Scott nodding. He understood.
Isaac pushed a bit further, but eventually had to use Scott's hips as leverage to get more of his dick inside. Pulling out was almost as hard, the tightness making Isaac require a surprising amount of strength to free his cock. His biggest problem wasn't the tightness, really, or the smooth, wet slide, but the temperature. Scott was so fucking hot inside, he felt like he was fucking someone who was running an incredibly high fever. He knew werewolves had higher metabolisms and body temperatures, but what he was feeling was just too much, it felt far too good and he both hated and loved it with frustrating equality. Thrusting upwards was the only way he knew of hitting someone's prostate with his dick (he was better with his fingers), but it seemed to do the trick all the same. Scott was covered in sweat, eyes shut in honest to goodness pleasure, cock dribbling precome over his abs and fingers digging into Isaac's biceps. Regardless of whether he was doing things "perfectly" or not, Scott was definitely having a good time. And that just made Isaac's attempts to fight back his climax all the more useless.
It actually didn't take him too long to realise that, even clawing himself to fight back the orgasm, he was going to come soon. And since he knew that filling a guy's ass with semen was not the best way to entice him into repeating a session of hot gay sex, he pulled out. Scott gave him such a disappointed look he almost gave in and impaled him on his cock again. But he shook his head, slightly, and gave him an apologetic smile.
"Gonna come," Isaac panted out, as he sat on Scott's bench and prepared to jerk himself off. Someone slapped the hand away from his cock, and it surprised Isaac to realise it had been Jackson.
"Lie down, I'm going to teach McCall how to rim," he said gruffly, and Isaac thought this was Jackson's unique way of thanking him for the earlier orgasm. All Isaac could think was oh yes fuck yes, yes yes yes.
He obeyed immediately, spreading his legs wide because by that point, he had no shame whatsoever. He hooked his arms behind the crook of his knee and pulled his legs back, giving the other two near-perfect access. Jackson dragged a hungry-looking Scott over to Isaac and pointed down.
"That's not a pussy," he began, firmly. "Don't lick it like it's a pussy. Don't trace the alphabet with your tongue or whatever dorks like you do." Scott threw Jackson an indignant glare, but Jackson raised a disbelieving eyebrow and Scott said nothing. "Do circles, up and down with the tip, and up and down with the flat of your tongue, to start," he instructed. "Like this," Jackson said, and went to town.
The feel of Jackson's hot, wet tongue against his entrance had Isaac squirming right from the start. He had been so close when he had pulled out from Scott's ass, and the impromptu rimming felt like the most awesome torture ever. If such a thing was even possible. Jackson did what he had announced to the letter, with Scott craning his neck to get a better look. Jackson noticed and used his hands to pull Isaac's cheeks apart, and Scott followed suit. Before he could even process what had happened, Isaac had four hands spreading him apart and inadvertently teasing at his hole with their fingertips. Jackson's tongue was pretty decently skilled, circling the rim of his hole perfectly and then teasing it with the up and down strokes.
"See? Now you go," Jackson ordered after sufficient demonstration.
Scott, much to Isaac's surprise, was not shy at all (or grossed out, as Isaac had initially feared). He dove in immediately, tracing sloppy circles with a bit more than the tip of his tongue. Isaac moaned loudly at that, too aroused by the contrast between Jackson's precise, skilful technique and Scott's amateurish but really eager performance, to bother trying to repress it. He felt Scott lapping at his hole in an attempt to imitate Jackson's up and down strokes, and Isaac couldn't tell which of the two was hotter. The tiny currents of pleasure he was feeling travelled straight from the ring of muscle to the very tip of his dick, making it twitch and spurt a little precome. His abs felt like a mess, but Isaac didn't care. Getting rimmed by two guys at the same time was ranking pretty damn high in his list of "awesome sex memories" and he intended to enjoy it to the fullest.
"Okay, now do it from side to side," Jackson instructed Scott, who obeyed earnestly. Isaac let out a shaky breath as he felt life was so fucking good he was ready to forgive the universe for every bad thing that had ever happened to him. "Now, let me get a finger there..." Jackson muttered, as he slid a spit-coated finger inside Isaac's hole, followed swiftly by another. Much to Isaac's surprise, he felt the fingers pulling in opposite directions, stretching his hole pleasantly. "Stick your tongue in there, deep," Jackson continued. Isaac felt the unfairness of Scott's temperature return with a vengeance as Scott's tongue slid inside his hole, wet and writhing and so damn hot. It was like Scott was fire turned flesh. "Fuck him like it's your cock, McCall," Jackson added, vaguely impressed at Scott's intensity, the way he buried his face against Isaac's flesh, his nose rubbing Isaac's taint.
"Fuck," Isaac moaned throatily, "fuck, please, someone," he pleaded, trying to push through the thick haze of lust to form coherent sentences, "please get me off, fuck..."
And much to his surprise, it was Jackson who grabbed a firm hold of Isaac's cock and directed Scott back against Isaac when he tried to pull away to help. "You stay there," he had said, much to Isaac's slight amusement. Once Scott got what was going to happen, he returned to his task with renewed purpose, driving his tongue as deep into Isaac as it would go, replacing Jackson's fingers to keep him stretched wide open. Isaac vaguely thought Scott was a natural at that, but his desperate need for release kept him from dwelling too much into it.
Jackson pressed the flat of his tongue against the underside of Isaac's cock, right against the frenulum, the most sensitive part of Isaac's anatomy, and just held it there (the motherfucking tease). Isaac let out a keening noise as the pleasure was almost enough to get him off but not quite, thick precome dribbling down onto Jackson's lip. Then Scott shoved his tongue deep inside Isaac again. Isaac's cock twitched and the friction against Jackson's tongue was finally enough to get him off. The first pulse of come through Isaac's dick actually hurt, a little, before the first wave of his orgasm hit him and he was lost in ecstatic bliss. He had expected Jackson to pull away, but he didn't (Isaac figured his face and hair were already splattered with come, so he had nothing to lose). Instead, Jackson and Scott rode out Isaac's orgasm firmly in place, with Jackson slightly rubbing Isaac's frenulum with the flat of his tongue and Scott trying to get even deeper (Isaac's mind's comment on that was along the lines of "fuck me Scott fuck, yes, fuck me"). He let out really embarrassing moans, but he didn't care, it had been one of the best orgasms Isaac had ever had. By the time he came down from the lovely orgasmic high, he looked down and saw Scott and Jackson finally leaving him, blinking at the sheer amount of come on each other. Scott's hair was practically drenched in the thing, while Jackson had thick streams running down his face.
Isaac grinned, and tried to get up, wobbled a little but he finally made it. He wiped some of the come from their faces with his thumb and licked it, already surprisingly used to the taste. Jackson looked a tiny bit impressed, but tried to play stoic. Scott looked at him like Isaac was sex on legs. Isaac felt his ego swelling like a balloon. He tried to get up from the bench, wobbled again, but remained up. He slung his arms around both of their shoulders again and started leading them towards the showers. He noticed come on Scott's thigh and wondered if it had even been possible for Isaac to get him there when he remembered that he had left Scott hard and wanting from the fucking, and that Scott had probably taken care of that while rimming him. Isaac felt a twinge of embarrassment that he had overlooked that. It felt like bad manners. So he decided to make it up to them.
"That... was great," he said with unabashed pride. "See? Don't you feel better guys?" he asked good-naturedly, but neither jock replied. Isaac rolled his eyes. "Fine. Let me introduce you two to the love of my life," he said once he made it to the shower sprays. He flicked on the hot water tap. "Hot showers."
Scott chuckled while Jackson just shook his head in disbelief. Nonetheless, the two stayed and turned on the nearby showers as well, which Isaac counted (as always) as a win. The trio showered in a comfortable silence, Jackson minding his own business while Isaac and Scott exchanged glances and complicit grins. They didn't have to play stoic like Jackson, they could admit they had really enjoyed what had just happened in the locker-room.
Jackson was the first one to finish, who towelled off with practised efficiency and paused at the door between the lockers and the showers with his trademark asshole grin. "Good game," he said, "call me next time either of you wants to get DP'd." And with that, he took off.
Scott looked back and forth from the spot Jackson had been to Isaac's face. Eventually he settled on Isaac when the other guy let out an impressed chuckle.
"DP'd?" Scott asked, utterly confused.
"Double Penetration," Isaac explained, "didn't think he'd know about that. Huh," he added, vaguely impressed.
Scott scrunched his face as he tried to figure out what Isaac meant. "But... isn't that something you can only do with girls?" he asked. Isaac shook his head with an enigmatic smile. Scott blinked. "What? How...? Wait... can you really fit two in there?" he asked, eyes wide with disbelief. Isaac's grin widened. He nodded. "Holy shit," Scott interjected, mind blown again.
Isaac took the opportunity to approach Scott and place both hands on McCall's shoulders. He started kneading them slowly. "I don't know about you," Isaac began, leading Scott back under the spray of scalding water, "but I'd be up for that." He felt a pulse of weak arousal from Scott (which, considering he had already came twice in a short span, was something of a small miracle).
"Yeah..." Scott muttered timidly, facing the tiles, "sounds, uh... interesting." Isaac chuckled at the understatement. "I'd really want," Scott started slowly, "to uh, get what Jackson got today," he vocalised awkwardly.
Isaac smiled behind Scott. "That can be arranged," he whispered, and enjoyed the sound of Scott's heart quickening for a moment.
There was silence of a while as Isaac kneaded Scott's tense back muscles, Scott sighing and relaxing. Isaac knew Scott was lost in thought, but he figured the guy was owed some peace and quiet, a moment for himself. A wave of sadness hit him, and Isaac couldn't hold back the question.
"Thinking about Allison?" he ventured, a bit too shyly for his own tastes.
"Yeah, how did you know?" Scott asked with honest curiosity.
"Lots of men get melancholic after sex," Isaac replied with a shrug, "me included."
"I just..." Scott began, frustration oozing from him in waves. "I really want to stop loving her. I really do. I want to move on and forget about her. I understand it's over," he declared intently. He looked back over his shoulder to make sure Isaac got how serious he was. Isaac nodded. He understood. "It's just..."
"Don't beat yourself over it," Isaac reassured him as if it was no big deal. "She was your first love. You can't expect to be over her in a couple of months. It takes longer than that."
"Yeah?" Scott asked, a hint of hope in his voice.
"Yeah," Isaac said, and he knew it wasn't the right moment, but he still leaned forward and kissed Scott's shoulder. Scott didn't flinch. "You just have to find someone who understand that and gives you the time you need," Isaac explained sagely. "Nail to take out another nail and all that. It just has to be the right nail."
Scott contemplated Isaac's words in silence. "How did you know what to say?" he asked eventually.
Isaac chuckled. "I don't know if you've noticed," he began, unable to keep the amusement from his tone, "but Danny had a nasty breakup recently."
Scott let out a laugh, and Isaac joined in. McCall turned around and smiled at him. Isaac traced a wet finger over the other jock's face, over the tiny scar on his cheek. Scott leaned in and kissed him.
They stayed like that for a while.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Some time later, Coach Finstock and Danny came by the locker-room, discussing strategy on the way. When they opened the door, they both froze at the rampant mess. They stepped around weights and lacrosse equipment in stunned silence. Danny felt something wet under his feet and looked down to see a strange liquid splattered all over the floor. The smell was unmistakable. He felt a cold drop of the same liquid on his cheek and looked up. They had even hit the ceiling with the stuff. Holy fucking shit. And he had missed it. Danny felt abysmally disappointed. You'd think that if there was any hot mansex in the locker-room, he'd be right in the middle of it, but nooooo. Life was a bitch like that.
"What the hell is that?" a voice quivered with horror behind Danny.
Oh, right, Finstock. Danny turned and rapidly ushered the Coach outside.
"Trust me, Coach. You don't want to know," he said wisely.
"I should've coached college," Finstock uttered brokenly, hiding his face between his hands. "I should've coached college."
-*-*-*-*-*-*-
"You actually got pictures?" Danny asked incredulously.
"Of course," Matt replied as if it was blatantly obvious. "I figured you're the only one that actually cares about that stuff, so I thought I'd make you a deal for them."
"How much are we talking about?" Danny inquired shrewdly, not giving away the fact that HAH, there were so many people interested in pictures of a threesome between Lahey, Whittemore and McCall that he could easily resell them for triple the price. Then he remembered that Jackson was his friend, Scott was pretty all right and Isaac had really helped Danny get over his ex.
Danny cursed his conscience. Now he had to see those pictures out of circulation.
"Oh," Matt replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I'm sure we can work out a deal..."