Chapter Text
"Dad! Coach says I've got potential," Lucas blurted out, still buzzing from practice as he swung his backpack onto the kitchen table. His cleats left faint grass stains on the linoleum. "Says he wants to give me extra handling lessons after school, just me! Well, he says you need to be there the first time"
Larry froze mid-pour, coffee dripping onto the counter. The phrase 'handling lessons' sent an unexpected jolt through him, not alarm exactly, but something far more complicated. He remembered his own childhood, the way Coach Thompson would linger near the showers, whistling while boys toweled off. And the special lessons he took...
Larry set the coffee pot down carefully, watching 9-year-old Lucas bounce on the balls of his feet. The boy's knees were grass-stained, his hair still damp from the post-practice shower. "Handling lessons, huh?" Larry echoed, forcing his voice steady. "What kind of handling?"
Lucas shrugged, peeling off his jersey. "Dunno. Said I gotta learn to keep control when people push me." He grinned, gap-toothed. "Like when you show me how to stiff-arm at home!"
The memory hit Larry like a linebacker—his own father's hands guiding his grip on the ball, sliding down to "adjust his stance," fingers straying further each time. He cleared his throat. "Wilson always was good with his hands." The words tasted thick.
***
The steering wheel creaked under Larry's grip as he pulled into the elementary school parking lot, the scent of freshly cut grass and childhood sweat flooding back memories he hadn't touched in years. He remembered the way Coach Thompson's whistle would echo off the tile walls, how his own nine-year-old fingers had trembled buttoning his jeans too fast after "cool down stretches" that always left him breathless for reasons unrelated to athletics.
Wilson's office smelled like leather and sweat, the kind of place where boys came to hear about teamwork and left with stickier hands than they arrived with. Larry's knee bounced under the desk until Wilson smirked and tapped a security monitor—six small, blurry figures darting through steam, all coltish limbs and careless laughter. Lucas was the last under the spray, scrubbing at his hair with the earnestness of a kid who still believed soap could wash away every trace of play. Larry's slacks tightened as Wilson leaned close. "They always stall when they know they're getting special attention." Larry smirked, suddenly aware of Wilson's feet pressing against his own under the desk, moving with excitement.
The locker room echoed with the last of the shower drips when they entered. Lucas sat barefoot on the bench, shorts clinging damply to thighs still rounded with childhood. Coach Wilson's key clicked in the lock as he shot Larry a wink that carried hungry understanding.
"Lucas! Let's get started, champ," Coach Wilson called from the center of the locker room, his voice bouncing off the damp tiles. Lucas instinctively reached for his crumpled practice jersey, still damp from the showers, but Larry caught his wrist mid-motion. "No time, slugger," Larry said with exaggerated urgency, his grip just tight enough to make Lucas blink up at him. "Coach says now, you go now, that's how winning teams work."
Wilson's grin widened as Lucas padded toward him in nothing but his grass-stained shorts, the elastic waistband riding low enough to show the dimples above his narrow hips. "Atta boy," Wilson murmured, kneeling to Lucas's height like he was about to explain a playbook. Instead, his hands settled on the boy's waist, thumbs pressing into the hollows beneath his ribs. "First rule of handling?" Wilson's fingers slid down to span Lucas's hipbones, his pinky dipping just inside the waistband. "Balance."
Larry leaned against the lockers, arms crossed over his chest to hide the way his polo strained against his erection. He remembered this, when he was in Luca's place, with Coach Thompson and his own father, 20 years ago. Wilson's palm cupped the curve of Lucas's ass through the thin fabric, squeezing lightly. "See how you're leaning forward?" His other hand slid up Lucas's bare chest, index finger tapping the fluttery pulse at his throat. "Gotta center your weight."
Lucas wobbled under the touch, his cheeks flushing pink as Wilson's fingers traced the inseam of his shorts. "Coach, that tickles!" he giggled, squirming, but not pulling away. Wilson chuckle "Tickling means you're tense, and tension..." His hand slipped around to cradle Lucas's crotch, pressing the heel of his palm just so, "...loses games."
Lucas gasped, his small body freezing mid-squirm as Wilson’s palm pressed firmly against him. The fabric of his shorts was thin, damp from the showers, and Larry could see the exact moment his son registered the heat of Wilson’s touch—eyes widening, lips parting with a tiny, shaky inhale. "Coach..." Lucas started, voice cracking upward, but Wilson shushed him with a gentle squeeze.
Larry moved closer, his breath hitching as Wilson's fingers curled around the outline of Lucas's hardening cock through the thin shorts. The boy's blush deepened, spreading down his neck like spilled juice, his bare toes curling against the damp tile floor.
"Easy there, champ," Wilson murmured, thumb circling the head of Lucas's erection through fabric. "Happens to every good athlete." His gaze flicked up to Larry. "Right, Dad?"
Larry swallowed hard, watching Lucas's trembling lower lip. He remembered the first time his own father had caught him like this—how those calloused hands had guided him through the trembling embarrassment toward something far sweeter. Stepping forward, he let his thigh brush against Lucas's shoulder. "Totally normal, slugger." His voice came out huskier than intended.
Lucas's eyes darted down to the prominent bulge straining against Larry's jeans, then snapped back up with a startled gasp. Wilson chuckled, sliding his palm down to squeeze Lucas's wrist. "See? Even big guys get excited during practice." He guided Lucas's small hand toward Larry's bulge, the boy's fingers twitching like a baby bird learning to fly. Larry's breath caught in his throat as the boy started to rub his member over the fabric.
Larry gasped, half guilt, half desperate need, as Wilson stands with a even more noticeable erection, just covered with his thin sport shorts, it was obvious that he wasn't wearing any underwear. Coach's fingers closed over Lucas's wrist, guiding the boy's other small hand to his own straining shorts. Lucas's fingers twitched against both bulges now, his breath coming in shallow little hitches as Wilson leaned in closer. The coach's shorts dropped with a whisper of fabric against skin, his thick cock springing free just inches from Lucas's parted lips. The boy's eyes widened, dark pupils swallowing blue as Wilson's musky scent filled the space between them.
"Go on, champ," Wilson murmured, his thumb stroking the back of Lucas's hand still trapped against Larry's zipper. The sound of the metal teeth separating seemed obscenely loud in the humid locker room. "Daddy's got something special to show you too."
Larry's jeans sagged open, his erection jutting out ruddy and leaking against his stomach. Lucas made a tiny, punched-out sound, as his gaze flickered between the two hard cocks framing his face. Wilson chuckled, low and warm, as he guided Lucas's fingers around Larry's shaft. "See how hot Daddy gets when you touch him?"
Lucas's fingers trembled against Larry's cock, his grip tentative at first, like he was handling something fragile. Wilson's chuckle reverberated through the locker room as he guided the boy's small hand, squeezing just enough to show him the rhythm. "That's it, champ. Nice and slow—like you're gripping a football in the end zone." Larry hissed through his teeth, his hips twitching forward involuntarily as Lucas's thumb brushed over the slick head.
The boy's breath hitched when Wilson's free hand cupped the back of his head, fingertips carding through damp curls. "Now, let's teach you how to score for real," Wilson murmured, nudging Lucas closer until Larry's tip bumped his parted lips. Lucas whimpered, his tongue darting out instinctively to taste the salt-slick precome beading there. Larry's gut clenched at the sight: his son's pink tongue laving hesitantly at his cock, just like he'd done for his own father at this age.
"Good boy," Larry groaned, threading his fingers through Lucas's hair. The praise lit up Lucas's face even as his cheeks hollowed around the first inch. Wilson's approving hum vibrated against Lucas's back where the coach pressed close, his own erection sliding against the boy's shorts. "See how Daddy likes it when you use your mouth?" Wilson's hands slid down to palm Lucas's ass through the thin fabric, kneading the plush flesh as the boy bobbed awkwardly.
Larry's grip tightened when Lucas's teeth scraped lightly, but Wilson was already there, tilting the boy's chin up with a finger. "Lips over teeth, slugger. Like you're sucking on a popsicle and don't want to break it with a bite." Lucas nodded, his eyes glazing as he took Larry deeper, saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth. The locker room air thickened with the sounds of wet suction and ragged breathing, the scent of sweat and musk clinging to their skin.
Wilson's hands didn't stay idle, he peeled Lucas's shorts down past his hips, exposing the boy's flushed little cock jutting eagerly from its thatch of blond curls. "Look at you," Wilson cooed, thumbing the bead of moisture at Lucas's tip. "Getting so hard just from tasting Daddy." Lucas moaned around Larry's cock, the vibration wringing a ragged curse from his father's lips. The boy jerked, gagging desperately as Larry's cock hit the back of his throat. Lucas whined, his body tensing "That's it, good players always know when to take it deep."
Lucas’s nostrils flared as he tried to breathe through his nose, his lips stretched obscenely around Larry’s girth. Saliva dripped down his chin, mixing with the precome slicking his father’s shaft.
Wilson exhaled sharply through his nose, watching his 9-year-old player struggle to accommodate his father's cock with the same focused determination he showed on the field. "Such a fast learner," he murmured, palming Lucas's ass while the boy's throat worked around Larry's length. His fingers dipped lower, brushing against Lucas's untouched hole, making the boy jolt and gag slightly. Larry groaned, his hips stuttering forward, just an inch, but enough to make Lucas's eyes water. Wilson smirked, pressing a damp kiss to Lucas's shoulder blade. "Easy, Dad. Don't wanna choke your star player before the big game."
Lucas coughed as Larry pulled back just enough to let him breathe, his spit-slick lips glistening under the locker room fluorescents. Wilson’s fingers lingered near the boy’s sacred hole, pressing just enough to make Lucas squirm against his palm. "Not today, champ," Wilson murmured, easing his touch away with a knowing glance at Larry. "That’s an advanced technique, we’ll save it for next session." His hand slid back up to squeeze Lucas’s hip instead, the sudden absence of contact drawing a confused whimper from the boy.
Larry’s cock twitched against Lucas’s cheek, his own restraint fraying as he watched Wilson’s thick shaft bob inches from his son’s face. The coach’s precum smeared across Lucas’s flushed skin when Larry gently cupped the boy’s chin, guiding his gaze downward. "Your turn to show Coach what you’ve learned," Larry rasped, thumbing Lucas’s lower lip until it parted. Wilson’s breath hitched as the boy’s warm exhale ghosted over his cockhead.
"Atta boy," Wilson groaned when Lucas leaned in tentatively, his nose bumping the wiry curls at the base. The boy’s first lick was hesitant—just a kittenish swipe of his tongue along the underside, but Wilson’s thighs tensed visibly. "Fuck, he likes it" His voice cracked as Lucas wrapped his lips around the tip, his small hands braced on Wilson’s thighs for balance. Larry watched, transfixed, as his son’s mouth stretched wider, taking more of Wilson’s length with each bob of his head. The coach’s fingers carded through Lucas’s sweat-damp hair, guiding without force. "Easy, slugger," he panted, hips jerking when Lucas hollowed his cheeks experimentally. "Just like Daddy taught you."
Larry’s palm smoothed down Lucas’s back, feeling the boy tremble between them. He could see the exact moment Wilson’s cock nudged the back of Lucas’s throat, the way his son’s fingers dug into Wilson’s legs, his lashes fluttering with the effort. Wilson swore under his breath, his abs clenching as Lucas gagged loudly, but less than before. "Christ, he’s a natural" The words dissolved into a groan when Lucas pulled off with a wet pop, panting.
Wilson's chuckle sounded strained, his fingers tightening in Lucas's hair as the boy gasped for air between their cocks. "Think he's ready for the advanced lesson?" he asked Larry, voice rough with need. Lucas blinked up at them both, lips swollen and glistening, his breath coming in shallow pants. Before Larry could answer, Wilson guided Lucas's mouth back onto his cock with a firm hand, sinking halfway in one smooth thrust that made the boy's nostrils flare.
Larry moved behind Lucas without hesitation, his chest pressing against the boy's back as he cradled his son's head in both hands. "Breathe through your nose, slugger," he murmured, thumbs stroking Lucas's temples. Wilson's grin turned feral as he pushed forward, his thick cock stretching Lucas's lips wider, the tip hitting the back of his throat with a wet click, and then back just to enter again, faster each time. Lucas whined, his fingers scrambling against Wilson's thighs, but Larry held him steady. "That's it, take it deep for Coach." Wilson groaned when Lucas's throat fluttered around him, the boy's gag reflex interrupted by the constant in and out of the veiny shaft.
Larry's thumbs brushed away the moisture tracking down Lucas's cheeks, his own erection throbbing against the small of his son's back. The locker room echoed with their ragged breathing, the slap of Wilson's thighs meeting Lucas's face as he began rapid thrusts. Lucas's nose pressed into wiry curls with each push forward, his throat working desperately around the intrusion. Larry bent to murmur against his ear, "So good for us, baby. Daddy's proud." The praise made Lucas shudder, his muffled moan vibrating along Wilson's length.
Coach's fingers tightened in Lucas's hair, his hips stuttering forward involuntarily before he forced himself still with a sharp inhale. "Fuck... Larry," he gritted out, his voice rough with restraint. "Your boy's got magic lips, but I'm not gonna..." His words dissolved into a groan as Lucas's tongue swirled under his crown. "Not gonna be the first to finish in him."
Larry's grip on Lucas's shoulders tightened possessively at Wilson's words, his cock twitching against in his son's back. The implication sent a possessive thrill through him: his boy, his first taste, his right as a father. He leaned down, pressing his lips to the shell of Lucas's ear, feeling the boy shiver at the contact. "Coach is right, slugger," he murmured, thumb brushing Lucas's spit-slick lower lip. "Daddy should be the one to give you your first real reward."
Wilson exhaled sharply through his nose as he pulled back, his cock slipping from Lucas's mouth with an obscene pop. The boy blinked up at them both, lips parted and swollen, his breath coming in shallow pants. Wilson's hand guided Lucas's face toward Larry's leaking erection, his fingers gentle but insistent. "Go on, champ," he rasped, palming his own shaft as he watched. "Take Daddy deep like you did for me."
Larry groaned as Lucas's warm breath ghosted over his cockhead, the boy's trusting blue eyes flickering up for reassurance. Larry carded his fingers through Lucas's sweat-damp curls, nodding as he guided him closer again at his dick, but this time he won't be as gentle. "That's it, baby. Show Daddy how good you can take it." Lucas's tongue darted out first, kittenish and hesitant, lapping at the bead of precum gathered at Larry's slit. The sensation sent a jolt through Larry's spine, his hips jerking forward before he could stop himself. Lucas's lips wrapped around the head with a soft moan, his small hands braced on Larry's thighs as his father start to fuck his mouth aggresively.
Larry's fingers twisted tighter in Lucas's hair as the boy's throat fluttered around him, the rhythmic clench of muscle dragging him toward the edge with dizzying speed. He could feel Lucas's nose pressed flush against his pelvis, the faintest hitch of breath through flared nostrils the only sign his son wasn't completely suffocating. "Gonna.... fuuuck....!!!" The warning tore from Larry's throat raw and guttural, his hips snapping forward one last time as his cock pulsed hotly down Lucas's constricted airway.
Lucas's hands flew up to hit at Larry's thighs, his body jerking with the instinct to pull away, but Larry held him fast. Tears spilled freely down the boy's flushed cheeks as his throat worked frantically, tiny gulping motions that forced the thick spurts deeper.
Wilson's breath hitched sharply as he watched Larry's cock pulse down Lucas's throat, the boy's tear-streaked face contorted in a mixture of panic and submission. The sight unraveled the last threads of Wilson's restraint. His thighs trembled, his cock twitched violently, and before rational thought could intervene, his hands clamped around Lucas's skull with bruising force. "My turn," he growled, yanking the boy backward off Larry's softening shaft with a wet pop.
Lucas barely had time to gasp before Wilson's thick cock slammed past his lips, the sudden invasion punching a choked gag from his throat. Wilson's hips pistoned forward without mercy, his balls slapping against Lucas's chin as he buried himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. The boy's eyes rolled back, his fingers scrabbling uselessly at Wilson's thighs as his nose crushed into coarse pubic hair. Wilson groaned through clenched teeth, his grip on Lucas's hair tightening until the roots pulled taut. "Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck!!!" His hips stuttered erratically, the head of his cock pulsing against Lucas's spasming throat.
Hot cum erupted down Lucas's windpipe in thick, salty spurts, each contraction of Wilson's cock forcing another wave deeper. Lucas's body convulsed, his throat fluttering wildly around the intrusion as instinct fought to expel what couldn't be swallowed fast enough. Tears streamed down his flushed cheeks, his nostrils flaring desperately for air that wouldn't come. Wilson's groan crescendoed into a ragged shout, his thighs quaking as he ground his pelvis against Lucas's face, milking every last drop into the boy's violated throat.
Larry’s hands trembled slightly as he pulled his son of coach’s not so softening cock, the boy’s chest heaving as he gasped for air, while his face recovered his color slowly. Larry's arms encircled Lucas before the boy's trembling knees could give out, drawing him into the cradle of his lap with the same care he'd used when Lucas was a toddler skinned from playground falls. Lucas's breath hitched wetly against Larry's collarbone, his small frame shuddering as he coughed up the last traces of Wilson's spend. Larry pressed his lips to his son mouth, tasting Wilson's cum mixed with his own in the corner of the boy's mouth. Dad's tongue cleaned it all. "Shhh, slugger," he murmured, one broad palm rubbing circles between Lucas's shoulder blades. "You did so good for us."
Wilson crouched beside them, his calloused fingers carding through Lucas's sweat-damp curls with surprising gentleness. The coach's thumb brushed away a tear clinging to Lucas's lashes, "Best damn mouth I've ever seen on a rookie," he said, chuckling when Lucas smiled with pride.
"Kid's got potential," Coach Wilson murmured, crouching to meet Larry's gaze over Lucas's head. "But potential needs practice." Coachs fingers lingered on Lucas’s chin, tilting the boy’s face up. “Bet your dad wouldn’t mind running some drills at home, huh slugger?”
His throat burned, his lips throbbed, but Lucas's smile was bigger than ever.