
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/482825.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Other
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Teen_Wolf_-_Relationship, Jackson/himself
  Character:
      Jackson_Whittemore
  Additional Tags:
      Masturbation
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-08-10 Words: 430
****** Invincible ******
by marguerite_26
Summary
     Jackson feels he deserves a private celebration after his recent
     success.
Notes
     Happy Birthday,
     [http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=95.2]
tourdefierce. The prompts I picked from your list: Jackson/himself, home, 430
word.
Thank you to [http://l-files.livejournal.net/userhead/
555?v=1322058945]faithwood for the beta read.
See the end of the work for more notes
It felt different walking into his bedroom that night, like he’d morphed from
that morning, transformed from a kid into something new. He tossed his lacrosse
bag to the floor and stretched; his muscles ached nicely from the strain of the
first game of the year.
He turned and locked his door.
Stripping off, he stood before the full-length mirror by his closet. His eyes
traced the sculpted muscles he’d worked hours every day that summer to achieve.
His body was a masterpiece. There was a bruise on his shoulder from the foul
the burly defensemen had given him and a scratch across his side from a tackle
that had ended with a stick catching him across the middle. The marks only made
him look stronger, like he was invincible. He felt every inch of it right now.
He smirked.
His eyes traveled down to his thick cock. It swung heavily between his legs as
he stepped closer to the mirror. A hard fought game always did this to him, a
win even more so. But tonight was special. He’d been pumped up on adrenaline
since the first whistle, half-hard since his first goal.
He’d ignored it and left himself untouched in the post-game shower. When Danny
had teased him about the tent in his towel, Jackson had just shrugged like it
wasn’t important. He’d rather wait.
He pulled his crumpled, still sweat-damp jersey from his bag and slipped it
over his head. It smelled of the thrill of the win, of being the best. His
nostrils flared and his cock bobbed against his thigh. He wrapped his fingers
around it, knowing this would be quick. Already he was shaking. His free hand
rose up to his jersey and his fingers curled around the white letter C, newly
added to the shoulder.
“You’re captain now, Whittemore,” Coach had said before the game, “don’t let us
down.”
Jackson pumped his cock, letting the words swirl in his head. Finally, fuck.
His forearm burned, the exhausted muscles protesting the abuse as he sped up.
He twisted his fist roughly around the head, thumbing the slit as remembered
the feel of his team hoisting him in the air after he’d scored the winning goal
in the last seconds of the game. Finally, he’d done it.
He came, spattering the mirror in creamy white strips. He laughed as he caught
his breath. “Invincible,” he whispered and smeared the come over the mirror,
blurring his reflection.
This was his year. It would be the best year of his life, nothing was going to
stop that.
End Notes
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