Fic: Mighty Ducks and BWOC Femmeslash
This comes in two flavors: girls or boys.
First up, boys. We're talking underage boys. Underage boys in a locker room shower all sweaty from hockey practice. That's right, it's Disney pr0n, because I don't do anything halfway. This is probably all kinds of Bad and Wrong, but it's what Jane asked for to the letter. Hey, I just work here.
Plainer to My Sight
His pads hit the metal locker with a resounding clang - it's not all that satisfying, but it helps burn off a little extra energy. He shouldn't really have any energy to burn off after the way Coach Orion drilled them, but there's a lot to be said for righteous indignation. And he bets Coach would have a heart attack if he found out Fulton knew words like 'righteous' and 'indignation' - considers saying them just to see if he can get the old man to keel over, but instead he scowls a little harder and yanks his jersey over his head.
It's not that he hates Coach Orion. He doesn't…he just liked him a lot better before Portman showed up. And okay, maybe he and Portman have been showing off on the ice a little, but they've only been back together for a few weeks and people expect certain things from the Bash Brothers. So he doesn't get why Coach rides them so hard about showboating when they're just doing their jobs. More pads hit his locker, the sound of clashing metal ringing in his ears and he feels a little better now.
He shivers when he yanks his undershirt off, cool air hitting sweat-slick skin and now he just wants to get in the shower, under hot water where he can warm up. They've been out on the ice for what feels like forever - more like a few hours, but it's long enough to make him feel the cold way down in his bones. Portman didn't even wait long enough to get back to his locker and strip out of his gear - he headed straight for the showers, and Fulton can hear the water running as he wraps a towel around his waist and heads to the back of the locker room.
When he gets there there's a pile of gear right in front of the showers, and Fulton shivers as he pictures Portman peeling it off as he storms through the locker room. He pushes those thoughts as far back in his mind as they'll go, averting his eyes as he drops his towel and heading for the shower farthest away from Portman. The last thing he needs is to get hard while he's in the shower with his roommate, because that means turning off the hot water and the thought of a cold shower right now makes him want to cry.
He doesn't even look at the other boy as he turns on his own shower, hot water making his cold skin ache for a second until he gets used to it. Slowly he eases himself under the spray, letting it soak his hair and his sore muscles. His eyes are closed, whole body focused on pretending he's not standing naked just a few feet away from Portman, so he doesn't hear the other boy until it's too late.
"Hey, man. You're gonna drown if you stand there with your mouth open like that."
Instantly Fulton's eyes snap open, water stinging them and he reaches up to wipe it away, blinking Portman into focus. He glances over at the shower Portman abandoned, then back at his roommate and…wow, that's a bad idea, because Portman's even hotter when he's wet. "What?"
Portman just smirks and Fulton's positive he looks like an idiot, but at least he can blame his blush on the scalding heat from the shower. He turns his back to the other boy as much as he dares, reaching for the soap and there's a joke in there somewhere that he's not going to think about, because he's got a plan.
It's a simple plan, really - soap up, rinse off, get the hell out of the shower before he does anything stupid. Like look at Portman. Or even think about looking at Portman. In fact, breathing is probably a pretty bad idea at this point, because he might accidentally smell Portman, and if he does that it's all over.
"You looked pretty good out there today."
"What?" And hey, he's down to a one-word vocabulary. His father always said he'd prove himself to be a complete idiot someday; it's just too bad he's not here to witness it.
"I said you looked good out there today," Portman says again, still smirking and yeah, it's still a bad idea to look at him.
"Orion didn't think so."
"Fuck him," Portman says, his smirk twisting into a scowl and Fulton doesn't have to look to know Portman's hot when he's angry, too. "What's his problem, anyway?"
He could answer that, could tell Portman that Orion's not like Bombay, that he's not the 'win at all costs' type and he's not going to put up with their shit. He wants a professional-looking team, one he can be proud of. He's a former pro, after all, and he loves the game, but he loves kids even more. Charlie explained it all to him one time, but Fulton knows exactly what Portman would say if he told him any of that, so instead he just runs his hands through his hair and reaches for the soap again. "Beats me."
And this is taking too long - Portman's been in here even longer than him, and so far all Fulton can figure is that he's just standing there…watching. Watching Fulton, and that's enough to make him blush all over as he soaps up as much of his back as he can reach.
"You want some help with that?"
He catches himself just before he says 'what?' again, because there's stupid, and then there's redundant. Another word that would shock Orion, but that thought barely registers because he can feel Portman's gaze on him and he can't help it, he has to look. It feels like he's moving in slow motion, like this is one of those movies, the ones guys aren't supposed to like, but finally he's face to face with Portman.
Portman who's looking at him with those dark eyes, golden skin slick and Fulton glances down long enough to see that he's hard. "Dude, what…?"
There goes that smirk again, and as soon as Fulton realizes what he said he blushes, face so hot he can't remember ever being cold. He wants to run, to get the hell out of there before he does anything he can't take back, but even if he did take off it's too late, because he's hard and it's not like Portman's going to miss a detail like that.
"It's no big deal," Portman says, then he shrugs…shrugs, like coming on to Fulton in the showers happens every day. Except that it doesn't happen ever, and Fulton wants to pinch himself but he can't do it without looking like even more of an idiot. "Looks like we're in the same boat, is all."
He's heard about stuff like this, but he always thought it only happened in bad porn. Not that he's seen a lot of porn, but none of his friends have ever come on to him and he always figured guys didn't really do this sort of stuff. Not straight guys, anyway, which means that either he was wrong about…well, everything, or Portman's not as straight as he thought.
"Since when do you like guys?" he blurts out, wishing he could take back the words as soon as they're out of his mouth, because Portman's coming on to him and he's blowing it. Only he's not sure this is such a good idea, because if he goes through with this and it's a one-time only deal, he'll die. He'll have to go back to Minneapolis, back to District Five and public school and his old man, because there's no way he'll be able to look Portman in the face ever again.
"You know what, Fulton?" Portman says, and Fulton's not sure when it happened exactly, but suddenly they're a lot closer than they were a minute ago.
"No," Fulton says, because there's no way in hell he's going to say 'what' again.
"You talk too much."
He opens his mouth to answer, to say something smart about all the trash-talking Portman's done since they met and who's got the biggest mouth around here, but before he gets a chance that mouth is pressed against his. And it's hard to tell whose mouth is actually bigger even when they're pressed right up against each other, but it doesn't matter because Portman's kissing him.
Portman. Kissing him. And this definitely isn't one of those things guys do just because it's convenient - he's pretty sure there's no making out in the Straight Guy handbook, and he's positive there's no wrapping arms around waists and pulling bodies close together and just kind of…holding each other. That's exactly what Portman's doing, one hand stroking up and down Fulton's back and the other one in his hair, tilting his head just so until they're just sort of breathing against each other.
He manages to put enough distance between them to look at Portman, taking in swollen lips and dark eyes, his cock twitching at the sight and he's going to die of embarrassment before he ever gets to come. "What if Coach…?"
"He had to go pick up his kid," Portman answers, fingers digging into Fulton's hip like he's working hard to keep himself under control, "I heard him on the phone."
Fulton wants to ask when, but he can't because Portman's kissing him again, harder this time, like he's trying to prove a point. He doesn't know what Portman's trying to prove, but he doesn't really care because strong hands are on his hips, gripping hard and moving them together. Somebody moans, the sound echoing off the shower walls and God, they're going to get caught. He's sure of it, but he can't make himself stop, because nobody's ever touched him before and he never thought the first time this happened would be with Portman.
The last time, maybe, because Portman would kill him just for thinking about it. Only he's the one who started it, and he's the one licking drops of water off Fulton's neck. Dean Portman's licking him, and Fulton's pretty sure he could come from that alone. He's dangerously close to doing just that, and he knows if he doesn't put some distance between them he's going to embarrass himself. But he doesn't want to stop, because it feels way too good and he can't stop this now even if he wanted to.
Almost as though he can read Fulton's mind Portman stops, dragging his mouth away from Fulton's skin to look at him. And Fulton's not sure what he's thinking, but whatever it is launches a thousand butterflies in his stomach. "Turn around."
He doesn't say it - doesn't ask why or any other 'w' word. He wants to, but he wants to come even more so he just nods once and turns around. Hands braced against the blue tile wall and Portman's arm slides around his waist, fingers splayed against his stomach possessively, like he's trying to claim Fulton. Portman's chest is pressed against his back, cock hard and when he shifts just so Portman slips a little closer, cock nestled…oh, God, right there.
And he's so not ready for that, but before he can panic Portman's hand closes around his cock, stroking slowly and Fulton can't help moving with him. He relaxes a little when Portman doesn't try to push inside, thrusting against him and whenever his balls press against Fulton's hole he's not so sure he doesn't want to try that. Eventually. Maybe after a weekend trip home to steal some beer from his dad, but the thought makes him shudder a little and the pressure of Portman grinding against him is kind of…hot.
He's thrusting harder into the circle of Portman's fist, eyes closed and he doesn't even care anymore if anybody walks in on them, because he's never felt so good in his life and he never wants it to end. He wants to stay just like this forever, hot water rushing over them and hard muscle holding him up, Portman's free hand wrapped around his chest to stroke over wet skin and tiny little grunts of pleasure escaping his throat with each thrust.
He fights it as long as he can, holding back and holding back because he wants this to last in case it never happens again. Portman's thumb strokes over his nipple and he shudders, whole body clenching and Portman groans low in his ear. He does it again just to see what will happen, gets a convulsive squeeze and a wild thrust of Portman's hips for his efforts. The thrust hits him just right, making him gasp and press back into the other boy. And if it feels that good just to press on that spot, he can't imagine what it would feel like to press inside.
The second he pictures Portman pushing a finger inside him he's coming, wet heat hitting the tile and Portman's fingers. It's all he can do to hold himself up as Portman groans and thrusts against him, again and again and Fulton loses count by the time he finally comes. They're both breathing heavy and his arms are sore from holding them up - Portman's not exactly light, after all - but he's never felt better in his life.
He's never come like that, either, and he's terrified to turn around because as soon as he does he'll know whether or not Portman's ever planning to let this happen again. He thinks about just staying right here until Portman gets bored and goes away, but when hands start moving on his skin again he realizes Portman's not going to make it that easy for him.
He straightens up with an effort, knees wobbling a little and he doesn't register the fact that Portman's turning him until they're face to face. Or maybe he turned Portman, because he's still facing the wall, only Portman's leaning against the tile now, grinning at him like they just won the Stanley Cup.
"Coach doesn't know what he's talking about. You've got great moves," Portman says, and Fulton can't help laughing because it's gotta be the corniest line he could have come up with.
Before he has a chance to get nervous again Portman's pulling him forward, hands sliding down his back and Fulton moans against his mouth when Portman's hands ghost across his ass. And if this is the way every late practice is going to end, Fulton's happy to stay and run drills after the rest of the team's long gone. In fact, he can't think of a single thing he'd rather do.
~
And now for the girls. They're not underage, although one of them was at the time canon wrapped up. It's sort of a weird pairing and I've only ever written preslash for them before, but in my head they are happily married and fighting crime living their quiet lives together somewhere not far from a fictional town called Pleasantville. If you're not familiar with Big Wolf on Campus some of the canonical details will seem a little...strange, but mostly it's just girls having sex in the shower. Again, I wrote what was requested.
Honey
Their first time was in a shower. It's such a cliché, but Lori can't help smiling every time she thinks about it. She blushes a little too, steals a glance at Becky and it's almost like the other girl knows exactly what she's thinking. Because every time she looks Becky's smiling that secret smile, and if Lori had known how dangerous she was back in high school…but it's still a little weird to think about that even now that Becky's almost done with college.
Then again, it was a college shower, so it's about time she got over the fact that Becky's a few years younger than her. It doesn't matter anyway, because Becky's smart and beautiful and she makes Lori laugh in that way that Merton makes Tommy laugh - that way she never really got until Becky showed up at freshman orientation during Lori's last year at Sweetbriar.
Ever since then the shower thing's sort of been an in joke between them, so she's not surprised to find herself dragged bodily into the cramped bathroom in the cabin Becky's parents rented for the last week of summer. It's supposed to be some sort of family bonding thing, the last chance for them all to spend some time together before Becky's last year of college. Not that there won't be Christmas too, because even though Lori and Tommy both have families of their own they spend most of their holidays at the Dingles' house now.
It's a testament to just how laid back Becky's parents are that they're so cool about both their kids turning out gay. Knowing Tommy and Merton they'll get grandkids out of it anyway, one way or the other, and they've had a few years to get used to it now. Besides, it was pretty obvious to anyone who saw Tommy and Merton together during high school where they were headed. Lori's still a little embarrassed that it took her so long to figure it out, but in a way she's grateful, because it helped pave the way for her and Becky.
Becky who's smiling that smile of hers, the one that makes her look like the teenager she hasn't been for a few years now. The room's so small that they're pressed up against each other, but they would be anyway so Lori's not complaining. She smiles back and slides her arms around Becky's neck, leaning in for a quick kiss before she pulls back and raises an eyebrow at the other girl. "If this is the best we can do for privacy it's going to be a long week."
"Be grateful we're stuck with the pull-out instead of bunking with Tommy and Merton," Becky says, laughing at the face Lori makes. "When we were kids Merton and I shared. By the end of the week we'd be ready to kill each other, but my parents had that whole hippie 'let them work it out themselves' thing going."
"It's amazing Merton lived to graduate from college."
"There's still time. He's not done with grad school."
Lori laughs at that and lets Becky pull her in for another kiss, catching a full bottom lip between her teeth and worrying it a little before she pulls back to run her hands through long hair. "So did you drag me in here to talk about your brother?"
Becky makes a face this time, scrunching up her nose and that makes her look a lot younger than she is too. A second later she's grinning again, though, and Lori's pulse picks up speed as she glances over her shoulder at the conspicuously lockless door. "Bec…no. Anybody could walk in here."
"But they won't," Becky answers, slender fingers already working their way under Lori's tank top. She pushes the cotton up a few inches, warm hands against warmer skin as she dips her head to feather kisses along Lori's jaw. "Mom and Dad went into town for groceries, and Merton already dragged Tommy down to the lake to look at some suspicious something-or-other."
Lori's first instinct is still to go after them, even after all these years, but it's been a long time since they were a team and she knows she's not welcome anymore. They're still friends, sure, but they're Tommy-and-Merton now, and she's okay with that, because she's half of something just as unbelievable and ten thousand times more amazing.
She lets Becky ease the tank top over her head, catching the curve of a pale neck with her mouth as soon as the shirt's gone. Becky arches her neck to give Lori better access, a breathy gasp escaping her throat when Lori finds the spot that always makes her knees buckle. She nips at pale skin, soothing the spot with a gentle kiss before she moves lower, hands sliding down the front of Becky's pajama top to work the buttons open.
Just last night she was laughing at Becky for wearing pajamas in the middle of August, but now she can't imagine anything sexier than Becky, barefoot and pressed against her, pajama top hanging open to reveal the swell of her breasts. Lori leans in and presses a kiss to the center of Becky's collarbone, mouth moving lower as she pushes the cotton off Becky's shoulders and down her arms. And she could do this right here, on her knees in front of the tiny sink with Becky leaning hard against the counter, but she knows what Becky wants and Lori's always been willing to give her anything.
One last kiss and she reaches around the other girl, turning the water on and pulling the shower curtain back as they peel off pajama bottoms and cotton panties. She steps under the water and pulls Becky in with her, laughing against that mouth she knows so well as Becky tugs the curtain closed. "This is starting to be a tradition."
"That's the point," Becky murmurs against her skin, the sound vibrating through her and sending a shiver of anticipation straight down her spine. Warm hands slide down her back, tracing the curve of her hips and across her belly, then back up to cup her breasts. Becky leans in and presses a kiss to each one, teasing a nipple with her tongue until Lori's gasping and clutching fruitlessly at the tile wall.
One last kiss and Becky straightens up again, pressing a tender kiss to Lori's parted lips. Her tongue flicks inside just enough to tease, and Lori growls low in her throat and pushes a hand through long hair. The water taps out a rhythm on her back, the combination of the water and Becky warming her until her skin flushes a delicate shade of pink.
"Love you," Becky says, pulling back far enough to smile.
"I love you," Lori answers without a second's hesitation. Something she never thought she'd have a lot of use for, but that was before Becky, back when love was something other people fell into. Dating a werewolf was weird enough, never mind undead boyfriends and B-movie characters come to life and her two best friends falling in love behind her back. By the end of high school she'd pretty much washed her hands of relationships in general, but with Becky everything's different.
Everything's…right, just the way it should be, and Lori wouldn't give it up for anything. She couldn't even if she wanted to, but that's the last thing she wants. One last kiss and she slides to her knees, pushing Becky back against the tile. She smiles up at the other girl as she slides her hands along pale thighs, parting Becky's legs just a little more before she pushes two fingers inside.
Becky lets out a helpless 'oh' and arches back against the wall, eyes closed and this is the part Lori loves best. She works her fingers faster and faster, finding the rhythm Becky likes most. When a hand slides into her hair Lori takes the hint and leans forward, tongue pressed hard against that spot and Becky lets out a cry that almost sounds pained and arches against her.
Together they find a rhythm, Becky's fingers moving arrhythmically through her hair in counterpoint to the water beating against her skin. And she loves this, loves making Becky lose control and knowing she's the only one who does. She loves the way Becky breathes her name when she comes, sighing when Lori pulls her fingers out and stands up to press their lips together again.
Becky's hands are shaking when they push through Lori's hair, her mouth leaving Lori's to chase a stray drop of water down her cheek. Lori moans at the press of a thigh sliding between her legs, Becky's soft laugh vibrating against her skin in the moments before her hand presses between them to slide down Lori's belly.
Lori braces her arms against the tile when Becky's fingers slide inside, eyes closed and she wants to watch, but all she can do is hold on. Becky's mouth closes over hers again, tongue pressing inside to fuck her mouth in time to Becky's fingers. God, she wants to say, and Becky and please and a thousand other meaningless words that don't matter in the end, because Becky already knows exactly what she needs. She knows just what Lori wants, and when a thumb slides across her clit white sparks go off behind Lori's eyes.
She breaks the kiss to gasp, pushing harder against Becky's hand and it only takes a few sharp thrusts before she's coming, face buried against Becky's shoulder to muffle her cry. She's still coming down from the wave of overwhelming pleasure when she hears it, a sharp knock on the door and a voice she knows all too well.
"Please tell me you're not doing what I hope you're not doing."
She looks up in time to see Becky roll her eyes, but she's smiling and her arms are still tight around Lori as though she's afraid the other girl's going to fall. And she just might, but she knows Becky will catch her if she does. "Go away, Merton. Can't a girl get a little privacy around here?"
Lori laughs at the sound of Becky's voice, suddenly fifteen years old again and screaming at Merton to get out of her room. Sometimes it really is hard to believe that they didn't kill each other back in high school, but underneath the rivalry Lori knows how much they love each other. She's seen it firsthand, and she knows that's the only reason Merton hasn't tried to hex Lori for corrupting his little sister.
"Merton, come on." Tommy this time, and Lori sends up a quick prayer of thanks to whatever god's responsible for werewolves with good timing. "Leave them alone."
She hears Merton grumbling as he moves away from the door, but he's moving and that's all she cares about. When they're gone she pulls back far enough to look at Becky, grinning at the other girl's vaguely exasperated expression. "Brothers."
"He's not so bad," Lori says, punctuating each word with a soft kiss against Becky's neck. "At least Tommy's around to keep him in check."
"Yeah. Funny how things work out," Becky answers, running her hands through Lori's hair and Lori can't help grinning at that. She knows neither one of them would have predicted this future when they first met, but now she can't imagine her life turning out any other way.
~
Sooper sekrit message for justmightbe: This isn't to say that if you were craving a particular pairing that I would be opposed to writing more shower smut for you. But I don't do het, so you're gonna have to get somebody else for that.
Jane made this icon too, and that is why I write her porn. And here I wasn't planning on writing anything today. Look how inspirational my friends list can be.
First up, boys. We're talking underage boys. Underage boys in a locker room shower all sweaty from hockey practice. That's right, it's Disney pr0n, because I don't do anything halfway. This is probably all kinds of Bad and Wrong, but it's what Jane asked for to the letter. Hey, I just work here.
Plainer to My Sight
His pads hit the metal locker with a resounding clang - it's not all that satisfying, but it helps burn off a little extra energy. He shouldn't really have any energy to burn off after the way Coach Orion drilled them, but there's a lot to be said for righteous indignation. And he bets Coach would have a heart attack if he found out Fulton knew words like 'righteous' and 'indignation' - considers saying them just to see if he can get the old man to keel over, but instead he scowls a little harder and yanks his jersey over his head.
It's not that he hates Coach Orion. He doesn't…he just liked him a lot better before Portman showed up. And okay, maybe he and Portman have been showing off on the ice a little, but they've only been back together for a few weeks and people expect certain things from the Bash Brothers. So he doesn't get why Coach rides them so hard about showboating when they're just doing their jobs. More pads hit his locker, the sound of clashing metal ringing in his ears and he feels a little better now.
He shivers when he yanks his undershirt off, cool air hitting sweat-slick skin and now he just wants to get in the shower, under hot water where he can warm up. They've been out on the ice for what feels like forever - more like a few hours, but it's long enough to make him feel the cold way down in his bones. Portman didn't even wait long enough to get back to his locker and strip out of his gear - he headed straight for the showers, and Fulton can hear the water running as he wraps a towel around his waist and heads to the back of the locker room.
When he gets there there's a pile of gear right in front of the showers, and Fulton shivers as he pictures Portman peeling it off as he storms through the locker room. He pushes those thoughts as far back in his mind as they'll go, averting his eyes as he drops his towel and heading for the shower farthest away from Portman. The last thing he needs is to get hard while he's in the shower with his roommate, because that means turning off the hot water and the thought of a cold shower right now makes him want to cry.
He doesn't even look at the other boy as he turns on his own shower, hot water making his cold skin ache for a second until he gets used to it. Slowly he eases himself under the spray, letting it soak his hair and his sore muscles. His eyes are closed, whole body focused on pretending he's not standing naked just a few feet away from Portman, so he doesn't hear the other boy until it's too late.
"Hey, man. You're gonna drown if you stand there with your mouth open like that."
Instantly Fulton's eyes snap open, water stinging them and he reaches up to wipe it away, blinking Portman into focus. He glances over at the shower Portman abandoned, then back at his roommate and…wow, that's a bad idea, because Portman's even hotter when he's wet. "What?"
Portman just smirks and Fulton's positive he looks like an idiot, but at least he can blame his blush on the scalding heat from the shower. He turns his back to the other boy as much as he dares, reaching for the soap and there's a joke in there somewhere that he's not going to think about, because he's got a plan.
It's a simple plan, really - soap up, rinse off, get the hell out of the shower before he does anything stupid. Like look at Portman. Or even think about looking at Portman. In fact, breathing is probably a pretty bad idea at this point, because he might accidentally smell Portman, and if he does that it's all over.
"You looked pretty good out there today."
"What?" And hey, he's down to a one-word vocabulary. His father always said he'd prove himself to be a complete idiot someday; it's just too bad he's not here to witness it.
"I said you looked good out there today," Portman says again, still smirking and yeah, it's still a bad idea to look at him.
"Orion didn't think so."
"Fuck him," Portman says, his smirk twisting into a scowl and Fulton doesn't have to look to know Portman's hot when he's angry, too. "What's his problem, anyway?"
He could answer that, could tell Portman that Orion's not like Bombay, that he's not the 'win at all costs' type and he's not going to put up with their shit. He wants a professional-looking team, one he can be proud of. He's a former pro, after all, and he loves the game, but he loves kids even more. Charlie explained it all to him one time, but Fulton knows exactly what Portman would say if he told him any of that, so instead he just runs his hands through his hair and reaches for the soap again. "Beats me."
And this is taking too long - Portman's been in here even longer than him, and so far all Fulton can figure is that he's just standing there…watching. Watching Fulton, and that's enough to make him blush all over as he soaps up as much of his back as he can reach.
"You want some help with that?"
He catches himself just before he says 'what?' again, because there's stupid, and then there's redundant. Another word that would shock Orion, but that thought barely registers because he can feel Portman's gaze on him and he can't help it, he has to look. It feels like he's moving in slow motion, like this is one of those movies, the ones guys aren't supposed to like, but finally he's face to face with Portman.
Portman who's looking at him with those dark eyes, golden skin slick and Fulton glances down long enough to see that he's hard. "Dude, what…?"
There goes that smirk again, and as soon as Fulton realizes what he said he blushes, face so hot he can't remember ever being cold. He wants to run, to get the hell out of there before he does anything he can't take back, but even if he did take off it's too late, because he's hard and it's not like Portman's going to miss a detail like that.
"It's no big deal," Portman says, then he shrugs…shrugs, like coming on to Fulton in the showers happens every day. Except that it doesn't happen ever, and Fulton wants to pinch himself but he can't do it without looking like even more of an idiot. "Looks like we're in the same boat, is all."
He's heard about stuff like this, but he always thought it only happened in bad porn. Not that he's seen a lot of porn, but none of his friends have ever come on to him and he always figured guys didn't really do this sort of stuff. Not straight guys, anyway, which means that either he was wrong about…well, everything, or Portman's not as straight as he thought.
"Since when do you like guys?" he blurts out, wishing he could take back the words as soon as they're out of his mouth, because Portman's coming on to him and he's blowing it. Only he's not sure this is such a good idea, because if he goes through with this and it's a one-time only deal, he'll die. He'll have to go back to Minneapolis, back to District Five and public school and his old man, because there's no way he'll be able to look Portman in the face ever again.
"You know what, Fulton?" Portman says, and Fulton's not sure when it happened exactly, but suddenly they're a lot closer than they were a minute ago.
"No," Fulton says, because there's no way in hell he's going to say 'what' again.
"You talk too much."
He opens his mouth to answer, to say something smart about all the trash-talking Portman's done since they met and who's got the biggest mouth around here, but before he gets a chance that mouth is pressed against his. And it's hard to tell whose mouth is actually bigger even when they're pressed right up against each other, but it doesn't matter because Portman's kissing him.
Portman. Kissing him. And this definitely isn't one of those things guys do just because it's convenient - he's pretty sure there's no making out in the Straight Guy handbook, and he's positive there's no wrapping arms around waists and pulling bodies close together and just kind of…holding each other. That's exactly what Portman's doing, one hand stroking up and down Fulton's back and the other one in his hair, tilting his head just so until they're just sort of breathing against each other.
He manages to put enough distance between them to look at Portman, taking in swollen lips and dark eyes, his cock twitching at the sight and he's going to die of embarrassment before he ever gets to come. "What if Coach…?"
"He had to go pick up his kid," Portman answers, fingers digging into Fulton's hip like he's working hard to keep himself under control, "I heard him on the phone."
Fulton wants to ask when, but he can't because Portman's kissing him again, harder this time, like he's trying to prove a point. He doesn't know what Portman's trying to prove, but he doesn't really care because strong hands are on his hips, gripping hard and moving them together. Somebody moans, the sound echoing off the shower walls and God, they're going to get caught. He's sure of it, but he can't make himself stop, because nobody's ever touched him before and he never thought the first time this happened would be with Portman.
The last time, maybe, because Portman would kill him just for thinking about it. Only he's the one who started it, and he's the one licking drops of water off Fulton's neck. Dean Portman's licking him, and Fulton's pretty sure he could come from that alone. He's dangerously close to doing just that, and he knows if he doesn't put some distance between them he's going to embarrass himself. But he doesn't want to stop, because it feels way too good and he can't stop this now even if he wanted to.
Almost as though he can read Fulton's mind Portman stops, dragging his mouth away from Fulton's skin to look at him. And Fulton's not sure what he's thinking, but whatever it is launches a thousand butterflies in his stomach. "Turn around."
He doesn't say it - doesn't ask why or any other 'w' word. He wants to, but he wants to come even more so he just nods once and turns around. Hands braced against the blue tile wall and Portman's arm slides around his waist, fingers splayed against his stomach possessively, like he's trying to claim Fulton. Portman's chest is pressed against his back, cock hard and when he shifts just so Portman slips a little closer, cock nestled…oh, God, right there.
And he's so not ready for that, but before he can panic Portman's hand closes around his cock, stroking slowly and Fulton can't help moving with him. He relaxes a little when Portman doesn't try to push inside, thrusting against him and whenever his balls press against Fulton's hole he's not so sure he doesn't want to try that. Eventually. Maybe after a weekend trip home to steal some beer from his dad, but the thought makes him shudder a little and the pressure of Portman grinding against him is kind of…hot.
He's thrusting harder into the circle of Portman's fist, eyes closed and he doesn't even care anymore if anybody walks in on them, because he's never felt so good in his life and he never wants it to end. He wants to stay just like this forever, hot water rushing over them and hard muscle holding him up, Portman's free hand wrapped around his chest to stroke over wet skin and tiny little grunts of pleasure escaping his throat with each thrust.
He fights it as long as he can, holding back and holding back because he wants this to last in case it never happens again. Portman's thumb strokes over his nipple and he shudders, whole body clenching and Portman groans low in his ear. He does it again just to see what will happen, gets a convulsive squeeze and a wild thrust of Portman's hips for his efforts. The thrust hits him just right, making him gasp and press back into the other boy. And if it feels that good just to press on that spot, he can't imagine what it would feel like to press inside.
The second he pictures Portman pushing a finger inside him he's coming, wet heat hitting the tile and Portman's fingers. It's all he can do to hold himself up as Portman groans and thrusts against him, again and again and Fulton loses count by the time he finally comes. They're both breathing heavy and his arms are sore from holding them up - Portman's not exactly light, after all - but he's never felt better in his life.
He's never come like that, either, and he's terrified to turn around because as soon as he does he'll know whether or not Portman's ever planning to let this happen again. He thinks about just staying right here until Portman gets bored and goes away, but when hands start moving on his skin again he realizes Portman's not going to make it that easy for him.
He straightens up with an effort, knees wobbling a little and he doesn't register the fact that Portman's turning him until they're face to face. Or maybe he turned Portman, because he's still facing the wall, only Portman's leaning against the tile now, grinning at him like they just won the Stanley Cup.
"Coach doesn't know what he's talking about. You've got great moves," Portman says, and Fulton can't help laughing because it's gotta be the corniest line he could have come up with.
Before he has a chance to get nervous again Portman's pulling him forward, hands sliding down his back and Fulton moans against his mouth when Portman's hands ghost across his ass. And if this is the way every late practice is going to end, Fulton's happy to stay and run drills after the rest of the team's long gone. In fact, he can't think of a single thing he'd rather do.
~
And now for the girls. They're not underage, although one of them was at the time canon wrapped up. It's sort of a weird pairing and I've only ever written preslash for them before, but in my head they are happily married and fighting crime living their quiet lives together somewhere not far from a fictional town called Pleasantville. If you're not familiar with Big Wolf on Campus some of the canonical details will seem a little...strange, but mostly it's just girls having sex in the shower. Again, I wrote what was requested.
Honey
Their first time was in a shower. It's such a cliché, but Lori can't help smiling every time she thinks about it. She blushes a little too, steals a glance at Becky and it's almost like the other girl knows exactly what she's thinking. Because every time she looks Becky's smiling that secret smile, and if Lori had known how dangerous she was back in high school…but it's still a little weird to think about that even now that Becky's almost done with college.
Then again, it was a college shower, so it's about time she got over the fact that Becky's a few years younger than her. It doesn't matter anyway, because Becky's smart and beautiful and she makes Lori laugh in that way that Merton makes Tommy laugh - that way she never really got until Becky showed up at freshman orientation during Lori's last year at Sweetbriar.
Ever since then the shower thing's sort of been an in joke between them, so she's not surprised to find herself dragged bodily into the cramped bathroom in the cabin Becky's parents rented for the last week of summer. It's supposed to be some sort of family bonding thing, the last chance for them all to spend some time together before Becky's last year of college. Not that there won't be Christmas too, because even though Lori and Tommy both have families of their own they spend most of their holidays at the Dingles' house now.
It's a testament to just how laid back Becky's parents are that they're so cool about both their kids turning out gay. Knowing Tommy and Merton they'll get grandkids out of it anyway, one way or the other, and they've had a few years to get used to it now. Besides, it was pretty obvious to anyone who saw Tommy and Merton together during high school where they were headed. Lori's still a little embarrassed that it took her so long to figure it out, but in a way she's grateful, because it helped pave the way for her and Becky.
Becky who's smiling that smile of hers, the one that makes her look like the teenager she hasn't been for a few years now. The room's so small that they're pressed up against each other, but they would be anyway so Lori's not complaining. She smiles back and slides her arms around Becky's neck, leaning in for a quick kiss before she pulls back and raises an eyebrow at the other girl. "If this is the best we can do for privacy it's going to be a long week."
"Be grateful we're stuck with the pull-out instead of bunking with Tommy and Merton," Becky says, laughing at the face Lori makes. "When we were kids Merton and I shared. By the end of the week we'd be ready to kill each other, but my parents had that whole hippie 'let them work it out themselves' thing going."
"It's amazing Merton lived to graduate from college."
"There's still time. He's not done with grad school."
Lori laughs at that and lets Becky pull her in for another kiss, catching a full bottom lip between her teeth and worrying it a little before she pulls back to run her hands through long hair. "So did you drag me in here to talk about your brother?"
Becky makes a face this time, scrunching up her nose and that makes her look a lot younger than she is too. A second later she's grinning again, though, and Lori's pulse picks up speed as she glances over her shoulder at the conspicuously lockless door. "Bec…no. Anybody could walk in here."
"But they won't," Becky answers, slender fingers already working their way under Lori's tank top. She pushes the cotton up a few inches, warm hands against warmer skin as she dips her head to feather kisses along Lori's jaw. "Mom and Dad went into town for groceries, and Merton already dragged Tommy down to the lake to look at some suspicious something-or-other."
Lori's first instinct is still to go after them, even after all these years, but it's been a long time since they were a team and she knows she's not welcome anymore. They're still friends, sure, but they're Tommy-and-Merton now, and she's okay with that, because she's half of something just as unbelievable and ten thousand times more amazing.
She lets Becky ease the tank top over her head, catching the curve of a pale neck with her mouth as soon as the shirt's gone. Becky arches her neck to give Lori better access, a breathy gasp escaping her throat when Lori finds the spot that always makes her knees buckle. She nips at pale skin, soothing the spot with a gentle kiss before she moves lower, hands sliding down the front of Becky's pajama top to work the buttons open.
Just last night she was laughing at Becky for wearing pajamas in the middle of August, but now she can't imagine anything sexier than Becky, barefoot and pressed against her, pajama top hanging open to reveal the swell of her breasts. Lori leans in and presses a kiss to the center of Becky's collarbone, mouth moving lower as she pushes the cotton off Becky's shoulders and down her arms. And she could do this right here, on her knees in front of the tiny sink with Becky leaning hard against the counter, but she knows what Becky wants and Lori's always been willing to give her anything.
One last kiss and she reaches around the other girl, turning the water on and pulling the shower curtain back as they peel off pajama bottoms and cotton panties. She steps under the water and pulls Becky in with her, laughing against that mouth she knows so well as Becky tugs the curtain closed. "This is starting to be a tradition."
"That's the point," Becky murmurs against her skin, the sound vibrating through her and sending a shiver of anticipation straight down her spine. Warm hands slide down her back, tracing the curve of her hips and across her belly, then back up to cup her breasts. Becky leans in and presses a kiss to each one, teasing a nipple with her tongue until Lori's gasping and clutching fruitlessly at the tile wall.
One last kiss and Becky straightens up again, pressing a tender kiss to Lori's parted lips. Her tongue flicks inside just enough to tease, and Lori growls low in her throat and pushes a hand through long hair. The water taps out a rhythm on her back, the combination of the water and Becky warming her until her skin flushes a delicate shade of pink.
"Love you," Becky says, pulling back far enough to smile.
"I love you," Lori answers without a second's hesitation. Something she never thought she'd have a lot of use for, but that was before Becky, back when love was something other people fell into. Dating a werewolf was weird enough, never mind undead boyfriends and B-movie characters come to life and her two best friends falling in love behind her back. By the end of high school she'd pretty much washed her hands of relationships in general, but with Becky everything's different.
Everything's…right, just the way it should be, and Lori wouldn't give it up for anything. She couldn't even if she wanted to, but that's the last thing she wants. One last kiss and she slides to her knees, pushing Becky back against the tile. She smiles up at the other girl as she slides her hands along pale thighs, parting Becky's legs just a little more before she pushes two fingers inside.
Becky lets out a helpless 'oh' and arches back against the wall, eyes closed and this is the part Lori loves best. She works her fingers faster and faster, finding the rhythm Becky likes most. When a hand slides into her hair Lori takes the hint and leans forward, tongue pressed hard against that spot and Becky lets out a cry that almost sounds pained and arches against her.
Together they find a rhythm, Becky's fingers moving arrhythmically through her hair in counterpoint to the water beating against her skin. And she loves this, loves making Becky lose control and knowing she's the only one who does. She loves the way Becky breathes her name when she comes, sighing when Lori pulls her fingers out and stands up to press their lips together again.
Becky's hands are shaking when they push through Lori's hair, her mouth leaving Lori's to chase a stray drop of water down her cheek. Lori moans at the press of a thigh sliding between her legs, Becky's soft laugh vibrating against her skin in the moments before her hand presses between them to slide down Lori's belly.
Lori braces her arms against the tile when Becky's fingers slide inside, eyes closed and she wants to watch, but all she can do is hold on. Becky's mouth closes over hers again, tongue pressing inside to fuck her mouth in time to Becky's fingers. God, she wants to say, and Becky and please and a thousand other meaningless words that don't matter in the end, because Becky already knows exactly what she needs. She knows just what Lori wants, and when a thumb slides across her clit white sparks go off behind Lori's eyes.
She breaks the kiss to gasp, pushing harder against Becky's hand and it only takes a few sharp thrusts before she's coming, face buried against Becky's shoulder to muffle her cry. She's still coming down from the wave of overwhelming pleasure when she hears it, a sharp knock on the door and a voice she knows all too well.
"Please tell me you're not doing what I hope you're not doing."
She looks up in time to see Becky roll her eyes, but she's smiling and her arms are still tight around Lori as though she's afraid the other girl's going to fall. And she just might, but she knows Becky will catch her if she does. "Go away, Merton. Can't a girl get a little privacy around here?"
Lori laughs at the sound of Becky's voice, suddenly fifteen years old again and screaming at Merton to get out of her room. Sometimes it really is hard to believe that they didn't kill each other back in high school, but underneath the rivalry Lori knows how much they love each other. She's seen it firsthand, and she knows that's the only reason Merton hasn't tried to hex Lori for corrupting his little sister.
"Merton, come on." Tommy this time, and Lori sends up a quick prayer of thanks to whatever god's responsible for werewolves with good timing. "Leave them alone."
She hears Merton grumbling as he moves away from the door, but he's moving and that's all she cares about. When they're gone she pulls back far enough to look at Becky, grinning at the other girl's vaguely exasperated expression. "Brothers."
"He's not so bad," Lori says, punctuating each word with a soft kiss against Becky's neck. "At least Tommy's around to keep him in check."
"Yeah. Funny how things work out," Becky answers, running her hands through Lori's hair and Lori can't help grinning at that. She knows neither one of them would have predicted this future when they first met, but now she can't imagine her life turning out any other way.
~
Sooper sekrit message for justmightbe: This isn't to say that if you were craving a particular pairing that I would be opposed to writing more shower smut for you. But I don't do het, so you're gonna have to get somebody else for that.
Jane made this icon too, and that is why I write her porn. And here I wasn't planning on writing anything today. Look how inspirational my friends list can be.