| This Just Gets Better and Better |

"Liam?" Mason asked, peering his head in between the frame and the front door. All the lights were off on the main floor. "Dude?" He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, locking the deadbolt. There was a light coming from down the hall upstairs so he made his way for it. And he was going to say something—Liam's name again. He really was. To announce himself. For the nth time. But someone else said his best friend's name, and in a very different tone. He stopped dead in his tracks only a few feet from Liam's room.

"Liam…"

There it was again. Breathy and lustful. What to do? Mason thought, his panicking brain stuck between peeping on his best friend and the hottest guy in Beacon Hills or leaving and regretting and kicking himself for not peering in. Shame or guilt? It was obvious. Shame. Mason took a few quiet steps forwards and peered through the slim crack between the bedroom door and frame. His mouth opened on its own. His erection strained against his pants. The sight…the fucking sight in front of him. He pushed the door ever so slightly and, thank the telluric currents, it cooperated by not making a sound.

Brett was sitting on Liam's bed, naked, with his back against a pillow against the tall headboard. His legs were wide enough that his knees were bent and his feet were slightly pointed inward and provided support so he could push upwards with them. Push upwards into Liam, that is, whose naked form was in the taller werewolf's lap. His shins were planted in the sheets on both sides of Brett's thighs and ass. His head was fallen back and his arms were wrapped around the older boy's neck; Brett was totally invested in Liam's own neck, collar bone, and shoulders, grazing it was his apparent fangs. Brett's hands, for his part, were on Liam's jockstrap-clad hips, helping the smaller werewolf rise and fall on his dick. He was perfectly buried, spreading Liam. Stretching…impaling him. And Liam bounced on it himself, meeting Brett's thrusts with equal excitement, with audible slaps of skin and sweat and swears.

Mason was fixated on that point of contact, watching Liam's back muscles and Brett's gorgeous legs only in the peripheral points in his vision. Brett was big. Thick. And Liam was taking it all like a champ. "Fuck…Brett…harder…" Liam breathed out in a moan, causing Mason's brain to fuzz. He lost his balance and, in the process of stabilizing himself, the door creaked. "What the—"

"Mason?" Brett said. Their gazes locked and Brett did what little he could to conceal any exposed parts.

"Mason? Shit."

"Shit," Mason said, too, and forced his back against the wall outside the bedroom. Immediately he could hear shifting—movement of sheets, feet hitting the floor. And then there was hushed arguing.

"I told you I heard some noises, like someone was here." Brett.

"Well I didn't and I was listening for it."

"Obviously not. You didn't even hear your phone buzz the first time."

"I did, too. I was trying to ignore it."

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"Remember my mouth was a little busy?"

"Excuses."

"Dick."

"You love it."

Mason expected a retort. But none came and then he heard the faintest sounds of what he knew were two boys making out. He frowned, still hard and in a total state of awkwardness. "Guys!?"

"You can come in now," Liam said. Mason took a deep breath and walked in. Liam was standing at the foot of the bed where they normally played Xbox and Brett was leaning up against the opposing wall; they were both dressed, albeit red and sweaty. They didn't make eye contact at first, Liam just scratching the back of his neck and Mason looking down at his feet,

"What brings you here?" Brett started, the most amused by the situation.

"We were supposed to study tonight," Mason said. Liam looked up at him, confused. "History quiz tomorrow, remember?"

"Shit," Liam said again.

"You were supposed to study tonight?" Brett said, disappointment in his voice.

"I forgot?"

| t |

"And I'll have a root beer," Mason said, looking from the waitress to the two boys on the other side of the table. She nodded and walked away from their booth. A minute or so passed of just silence, both Mason and Liam still not really able to look at each other. Brett rolled his eyes and grabbed Liam's face before kissing him hard, almost forcing his tongue in the boy's mouth. It only lasted for a few seconds when he pulled back and looked across the table at Mason's face, whose mouth had fallen into a lazy 'o' once again.

"So are we done with the awkwardness now?" Brett said, folding his arms. Mason nodded first and Liam followed, their eyes meeting finally.

"Ugh, so where are your parents?" Mason began.

"Dinner," Liam said.

"We were supposed to grab dinner, too," Brett added. "Maybe go back to his and watch Star Wars."

"Oh," Mason replied.

"And then someone distracted me after they left," Brett continued, looking fondly at the seductive boy next to him. Mason's eyes couldn't look at Brett now. "I don't even think your dad put it into 'drive' before your shirt was off."

"Okay, this is more awkward than the kiss," Mason said. Brett shrugged and laughed when Liam planted his forehead on the cold table.

| t |

When Liam finally walked into his house again, both his best friend and his boyfriend decided to head home. His boyfriend. That was taking its time to get used to. He dragged his feet into his room and plopped down face first. That weekend had been the weirdest he'd ever had: gay clubbing, landing a boyfriend, having his first time, having his mom see his almost naked boyfriend, having the talk again, and of course that evening with Mason being super awkward. He groaned into the sheets, those sheets that still smelled like Brett and when he thought about, things stirred all over again. This is unhealthy, he thought, feeling his strain once again. He wanted that werewolf all over again; it had been a little over an hour! Maybe I'll ask Scott about it.

Bzzz, bzzz.

He rolled onto his back and dug out his phone. New message from Speak of the devil.

/ Get it Liam! /

He threw his phone up towards his pillows and rolled back over. Can it be tomorrow already?

Author's Note: So I got inspired and couldn't help myself. I figured 'why not.'