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“Not so many as you, from the sound of it.”

Brayden didn’t even look abashed, just smiled a little wider.

“I was on the swim team,” Luke continued. “For a while, anyway. So, similar locker room stuff, I guess.”

I shared a glance with Carlos, whose raised eyebrow suggested he was as skeptical as I was that Luke’s “locker room stuff” was so “similar” to that of the wrestling team.

“So, Coach is into swimmers,” Brayden mused.

“I swear to god, young man,” Coach started, his tone heated.

Luke patted his arm. “If you’re this easy to provoke during training, it’s no wonder they act up.” The critique delivered with an expression of endearment.

Coach’s lips tightened, his glare at Brayden undimmed. For a moment, it seemed like he might snap out something angrily, like when we were truly pissing him off in practice.

Then, unexpectedly, his expression softened. As though he’d been weighing the options - as curious to see whether fury would win out as we all were - and been pleasantly surprised to find he didn’t need it.

“He was the hottest man I’d ever seen,” Coach admitted. “In the water, he could swim like a dolphin. Like he was made to be there. It was... mesmerizing.”

“You didn’t even tell me you were coming to watch,” Luke chided, affectionately.

Coach shrugged his big shoulders. “Closeted, meathead jocks aren’t meant to fall for the Dean’s List star of the swim team. I could barely hold a conversation with you over that first lunch. I figured you thought I had a five-word vocabulary.”

“The strong, silent type,” Luke teased.

“Cut it out,” Coach told him, but his smile gave him away.

I’d thought the idea of Coach having a boyfriend was strange. Turned out, the sight of the man practically blushing when said boyfriend teased him playfully was even more shocking.

Not quite as much, though, as the hand which I felt suddenly slip up my thigh.

I grit my teeth, trying to clamp down on any reaction, any possible giveaway of what was unexpectedly happening underneath the bubbles. Managed - in a way I hoped was a whole lot more casual than I felt - to turn to Donny alongside me.

The junior’s expression was rapt, like he was innocently enjoying listening to Coach’s story about how he and Luke met. No indication whatsoever that he was simultaneously working his fingers up my inner-thigh.

He’d discover I was hard if I let him reach the top, I knew. I wasn’t exactly sure if it’d been the knowledge that I was naked while everyone else had at least some clothes on, or if Luke’s story - and Coach’s obvious attraction to him - had given my dick the final nudge it needed to wag eagerly amid the bubbles. Regardless, Donny was only inches away from grabbing hold of my erection.

Trying to move slowly, to not make a scene, I put my hand down on top of his.

For a moment I thought that’d be enough, that the teasing would stop. Only then, before I could quite follow what was happening, Donny was turning our hands and suddenly - felt rather than seen through the simmering water - his fingers were around my wrist. Drawing me over to his side, as I tried desperately to keep my face bland.

Something not exactly easy, when I felt him push my hand underneath him.

Only not just underneath, but guiding my fingertips past the clinging elastic of his soaked briefs. Taking full advantage of my reluctance to draw attention, to jerk my hand away; my inability, in fact, to do anything but allow him to guide my fingers between his cheeks.

The thick, rubbery base of the plug shouldn’t have been a surprise. I knew, after all, how Donny’s mind - and libido - worked. All the same, the knowledge that he’d been sitting there so casually while however-many-inches of toy were stretching his insides was doing nothing to soften my dick.

Unable to resist, I pressed on the base a little.

Only gently, barely enough to move it, but I knew - from my own experience in Jefferson’s truck - what it could feel like. How the sensations were amplified, exaggerated; how something which felt one way, one size, in your hands could then feel so different when it was grinding against your inner walls.

Donny sank down slightly, an ostensibly innocent movement to dip more of his bare chest into the warm water, but which had the definitely-not-innocent side effect of trapping my hand between his smooth ass and the wooden bench.

And then no way to free myself - not without being very obvious - when he reached across and wrapped his fingers around my cock.

I wasn’t sure if this had all been his plan, part of the ruse to trick me into getting into the hot tub naked. Donny was impulsive enough, I knew, to simply grab at whatever opportunity for borderline-mayhem presented itself. Especially, I was coming to realize, if that opportunity also included doing something in a risky situation.

Getting slowly jerked off while I plug-fucked my teammate, almost right next to our wrestling coach and his unsuspecting boyfriend, ranked pretty high on the risk scale. Enough that - rationally - I knew I should put a stop to it sooner rather than later.