Swim Team Fuks Coach Pt 2

He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the head, tongue flicking out to taste me like he’d been starving for it. I groaned at the sudden warmth, my hips twitching forward before I could stop them.
Part 1
*****
“No sé cómo…” My voice cracked. “What if I mess it up?”
“You won’t,” Mason said, firm. “And if you do, we’ll deal with it. Together.”
“Muchachos. I don’t want to ruin your lives,” I whispered.
Jayden leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Diegs. You’ve been saving ours since the day you joined the team. We’re just finally returning the favor.”
I laughed–wet, breathless. I wiped my eyes. “You’re both loco.”
“You’re in love with us,” Jayden said, grinning.
“Painfully,” I muttered.
Mason’s fingers brushed my spine. “So?”
I looked at them then–really looked. At the way Jayden’s leg bounced like he was holding back too much energy. At the way Mason’s hand rested just above my hip, not possessive, just present. Warm. Steady.
They didn’t see a liability. They saw me.
I sat back. Exhaled slowly. Let it sink in.
I could do this. I wasn’t ready to say it out loud. But inside, something had shifted.
I was tired of being afraid.
—
I didn’t knock. I’d spent too many years waiting for permission.
The door slammed open as I pushed it, the fluorescent overhead buzzing faintly as I stepped into Coach Thomson’s office. It was dim–blinds half-closed, papers scattered across the desk, a half-empty bottle of something sharp and brown glinting in the corner. The air stank of sweat and old anger.
He looked up, sluggish and squinting, like light hurt him. Like truth hurt him.
“Rodriguez,” he slurred. “What the hell do you think you’re–“
“Cállate. Sit down,” I said. My voice was quiet. Even. Cold.
Behind me, Mason and Jayden stepped into the doorway and stopped. They didn’t say a word, but they didn’t need to. I...