Wrath of God - Crystal Castles
Scott froze when he heard who it really was. He had been hoping that it was Stiles, at least Stiles had seen him in this same position a million times. But no, luck was not on his side, luck was not wanting him to have an easy day, exchange quips about how Scott was still embarrassed about other guys seeing his junk before going on about their lives. Instead lady luck had thought it would be a good idea for the object, or person, of his obsession to walk in on him just as he exited the shower.
"You’re joking." Scott said, dropping the shirt back into the gym bag. Stiles rarely left him, only once or twice when the two had an argument, but it was never without notice. "But for the record we’re not joined at the hip, he’s just the one with the car and I’m the one with the gas money." Scott replied as he picked the shirt back up, slipping it on before dropping his towel. "But don’t let me interrupt you, looks like you wanted to take a shower."
"I’ve never been one to joke." Matt said, watching the other drop his garment. Matt grinned all the while as the other spoke. He admired their camaraderie and was at times jealous of it. He had never allowed himself to get close enough to anyone out of anxiety and fear. He remained on the fringes of relationships, staying anonymous in a way. "I was. But not if you’re here. I won’t shower unless I’m alone.." Matt admitted to him, which sounded silly outloud. "Hey, uh. If you need a ride I could totally drop you off. I don’t mind." Matt offered with a luke warm smile.
It was sad how often Scott had come to think about Matt. Honestly he didn’t even know why it was that he had come to think about the other male as often as he did. From the way his lips formed words to his scent lazily drifted off of him after a tough practice. Aside from a few moments with Stiles he had never seriously questioned his sexuality before.
As much much as he didn’t want to admit it the reason he’d taken as long as he had to get from the lacrosse field to the locker room was in hopes of not having to see Matt. Scott didn’t exactly have the best track record with talking to people he was interested in, and seeing as he’d never been as interested in someone as he was in Matt he really didn’t want to risk the embarrassment. So when he made his way back to the locker room he made a beeline for the shower, taking his time before turning the water off and heading back to his locker.
As he applied his deodorant he could have sworn that he heard someone enter the locker room. “Stiles, if that’s you I promise I’ll be out in like five minutes!” He called, tugging a clean shirt out of his gym bag.
Matt rarely participated in practice, only opting in for those that couldn’t make it or decided to ditch. Whenever Greenburg berudgingly placed him in he accepted with a groan before setting his camera in his bag and trotting out onto the field.He played defensive positions and refused for anything too physically taxing. Matt refused to put more effort into this than he did photography. Greenburg must have picked up on this mentality as Matt found himself pushed harder than he ever had before on the field. Which was irritating. He really hated sweating, and dirt, and being tackled. He preferred to do the tackling. After practice he stayed out on the field, rummaging through his camera to review the pictures he had taken that day. Stiles, Jackson, random players and finally McCall. Who’s eyes glinted, obscuring his face in each picture. No matter the angle.
Scott had been the object of his adoration for some time, though he only acted on it through small unnoticeable acts. Such as smile, waves and the occasional picture. How could one deny his puppy like qualities and beautifully colored skin? When Matt started into the locker room Scott had just gotten out, affording him a glance at his toned body. “You’ll be out in less than that, it looks like.” Matt greeted Scott with an easy smile as he slid his bag off of his shoulder. He’d only undress and shower when alone. He didn’t trust any of these meat heads. “Stiles isn’t even..around anymore. Which is weird, I thought you two attached at the hip.” Matt commented before starting over toward Scott, forcing his eyes onto his face. “It’s weird, seeing you..alone.”
Aiden grinned as he felt Matt’s lips gently press against his cheek. “Thank you, Master,” he said before returning to licking Matt’s hand. Ethan slid in closer, pressing his body against Matt’s leg. “We just want to be whatever you make us.”
"You’re my puppies." He told Ethan as he pinched at his air teasingly. "My little sluts, really." Matt snapped his fingers, pointing at his crotch. "Get my dick out, Aiden. Using nothing but your teeth."