"Carter." Jace's voice snapped me back. "Get closer. I want you to watch this."
I was already close. But I moved closer anyway, positioning myself on my knees beside them, face level with where they were joined. Jace's thick cock was buried maybe five inches deep now, the shaft glistening with lube, Nate's pink rim stretched obscenely around the girth. The sight was intimate in a way I wasn't prepared for. Not porn-intimate. Real.
Jace didn't move at first. Just held himself there, letting Nate feel the fullness, letting the reality sink in. The reality being that Nate, the loudest no homo in our pledge class, the guy who'd jumped me in the dining hall last week for using the word cute about a labradoodle, was face-down on this bed with another guy's cock parked five inches inside him.
"Breathe, bro," Jace said. His voice had dropped the mocking edge. Something almost tender in it now. "You're clenching too hard. You'll hurt yourself."
Nate's whole back was rigid, every muscle locked. I could see him trying to process. The intrusion. The stretch. The fact that this was actually happening. His breathing was shallow, rapid.
"I can't," Nate started.
"You can." Jace's hands moved from Nate's hips to his lower back, rubbing slow circles. "Push out like you're trying to get me out. Trust me."
Nate made a frustrated sound but obeyed. I watched his hole relax fractionally, saw another half-inch of Jace disappear inside.
"Good boy," Jace murmured. "See? Your body knows what to do."
"Don't call me that."
"What? Good boy?" Jace pushed a little deeper. "Why not? You're being so good for me right now."
Nate groaned, anger and something else mixed together. His cock was hard again, straining the pouch of his jockstrap, a wet spot spreading where he was leaking.
Jace still wasn't really fucking him yet. Just holding there, letting gravity and Nate's own loosening body do the work. Every few seconds he'd shift his hips. Tiny movements, barely perceptible. And Nate would shudder.
"How's it feel?" Jace asked.
"Weird." Nate's voice was strained. "Full. I don't, I don't know."
"Does it hurt?"
A pause. "Not anymore. It did at first but now it's just. Pressure."
"Good pressure or bad pressure?"
Nate didn't answer. Which was an answer in itself.
Jace caught my eye and winked. Then, finally, he pulled back.
Slow. So slow. I watched his shaft reappear inch by inch, slick and shiny, until just the head was still inside. Nate's hole clung to him, the rim dragging outward like it didn't want to let go. It was the kind of detail I'd seen in porn before and never believed was real. Hole turning itself inside out a little, trying to keep what was leaving. Apparently that was just a thing bodies did.
"Oh fuck," Nate breathed.
Jace pushed back in. Same pace. Torturously slow. All the way until his hips pressed flush against Nate's ass.
"Feel that?" Jace asked. "That's all of me. Every inch. You took it all, bro."
Nate's head dropped between his shoulders. A sound escaped him. Not quite a moan, not quite a whimper. Something in between.
Jace did it again. Out slow, in slow. Establishing a rhythm that was more tease than fuck. Each stroke deliberate, controlled, designed to make Nate feel every millimeter.
"He likes it," Jace said to me. Like Nate wasn't even there. Like he was just a body now, something to be observed and discussed. "Look at him, Carter. Look at his hole."
I looked. Nate's rim was flushed pink, puffy from the stretch, clinging to Jace's cock on every outstroke. It looked hungry. That was the only word for it. The other word my brain offered was grateful, which I rejected immediately, except it didn't actually go anywhere.
"Total top, right?" Jace continued, still with those maddening slow strokes. "Biggest bro in the frat. All that 'I don't bottom' energy. And look at him now. Taking dick like he was made for it."
"Shut the fuck up," Nate managed, but his voice was wrecked. Barely recognizable.
"Make me." Jace paused with just the tip inside, holding there, making Nate wait. "Oh wait. You can't. Because you're face down with my cock in your ass, and you don't want me to stop."
He pushed back in. Nate moaned. Actually moaned. Loud and helpless, the sound punched out of him.
Jace grinned and finally started fucking him properly. Not the brutal pounding I expected. Long, deep strokes that made the bed creak with each thrust. He'd pull almost all the way out, pause for a heartbeat, then sink back in to the hilt. Over and over. Building something.
I watched Nate's resistance crumble in real time. His body was responding whether he wanted it to or not. Hips starting to push back to meet each thrust, hole clenching greedily around the shaft, cock drooling a steady stream onto the sheets beneath him. Every few strokes, a little moan would escape, and each one sounded more desperate than the last.
"That's it," Jace encouraged. "Stop fighting. Let your body have what it wants."
Nate's hips pushed back harder. He was fucking himself on Jace's cock now, chasing the sensation, all pretense of resistance gone.
"Faster," Nate muttered.
Jace stopped moving. Buried to the hilt, completely still.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"Sounded like you said faster."
"I meant get it over with, faster."
"Carter." Jace's eyes found mine. "What did he say?"
I hesitated. Nate shot me a look over his shoulder. Pleading, furious, humiliated. But Jace's cock was still buried in him, his hole still clenching around it, and we all knew the truth.
"He said faster," I admitted.
Jace's grin was triumphant. "Good boy, Carter. Honest ref." He gripped Nate's hips, then paused.
"Actually. Hold on."
He reached one hand forward, sliding it along Nate's side until his fingers found the waistband of the jockstrap. Instead of pulling it down, he hooked his fingers under the elastic and twisted, gathering the fabric until it was taut against Nate's skin.
"What are you," Nate started.
"Leverage." Jace pulled the jockstrap tighter, using it like a handle, the elastic digging into Nate's hips. His other hand gripped Nate's shoulder from above. "I want to feel you when I really give it to you."
Then he started fucking Nate hard.
The change was immediate and brutal. Gone were the slow, teasing strokes. Jace was pounding into him now, using the jockstrap to yank Nate back onto his cock with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. Wet, obscene, rhythmic. Like something out of a porn video. The bed wasn't just creaking anymore. It was bumping and tapping against the wall.
Nate's moans became unhinged. Not words, not protests, just raw sound. Punched out of him with every impact. His hands clawed at the sheets, trying to find purchase, trying to brace himself against the onslaught.
"There it is," Jace growled, not slowing down. "There's my boy. Taking it like a fucking champ."
"I'm not. Ah. I'm not your."
Jace twisted the jockstrap tighter and slammed particularly deep. Nate's protest dissolved into a wail.
"You're whatever I say you are right now." Jace's pace was relentless. "And right now, you're mine."
I couldn't look away. Couldn't even blink. Every thrust seemed to break Nate down further. His I'm still a top bullshit crumbling with each impact. His body had surrendered completely. Only his mouth was still trying to resist, and even that was failing.
"Touch his cock, Carter." Jace's voice was strained from exertion but still commanding. "I want him to cum on my dick. I want him to remember his first time forever."
I shouldn't have. This was already way past any line we'd ever drawn. But I reached under Nate anyway, my hand finding the soaked pouch of his jockstrap. His cock was iron-hard inside, straining against the fabric, pulsing with his heartbeat. When I wrapped my fingers around it and started stroking, Nate practically screamed.
"Fuck. Fuck. I'm gonna."
"Already?" Jace laughed breathlessly, but he didn't slow down. If anything, he went harder. "Two minutes of real dick and you're already gonna cum? That's pathetic, bro. What would the other guys say?"
"Don't. Ah. Don't tell anyone."
"We'll see." Another brutal thrust made Nate's whole body jerk. "Depends on how good you make me feel."
I kept stroking, trying to match Jace's rhythm. Nate was leaking so much now that my hand was soaked, the jockstrap completely ruined. His hole was clenching rhythmically around Jace's cock. That telltale squeeze that meant he was right on the edge. I knew the feeling from inside, an hour ago, except I'd been the one on the bed and now I was the one with my hand on a buddy's dick like I'd been recruited.
"He's close," I reported.
"I know." Jace's voice was tight. "I can feel it. His pussy is trying to milk me already. Greedy fucking slut."
"I'm not a. Oh god. Oh fuck."
Nate came.
His whole body seized up, back arching, every muscle locking at once. His hole clamped down on Jace's cock so hard that Jace groaned from the pressure. Cum spurted through the jockstrap. Pulse after pulse, soaking my hand, dripping onto the sheets, more than I'd ever seen him produce. He was shaking, making sounds that were almost sobs, the orgasm ripping through him with a violence that seemed to scare even him.
And Jace fucked him through it. Didn't stop, didn't slow down, just kept pounding that convulsing hole, using Nate's spasming body for his own pleasure. Every thrust prolonged Nate's orgasm, kept him trapped in that overwhelming sensation.
"My turn," Jace growled.
Three more brutal thrusts. Each one making Nate cry out from overstimulation. Then Jace buried himself to the hilt and went rigid. His cock pulsed inside Nate, visible through the taut skin of his shaft. Flooding him. Marking him. Breeding him.
When it was over, nobody moved.
Jace stayed buried in Nate's ass, cock twitching through the aftershocks. Nate stayed face down, destroyed, still clenching weakly around the intrusion. I stayed on my knees, hand still wrapped around Nate's softening cock, covered in his cum. Nobody had told me I could let go. Nobody had told me I couldn't. The default position seemed to be holding on, so I held on.
The room smelled like sex. Like sweat and lube and spent loads and something else. Something that smelled like the end of who Nate used to be.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Jace pulled out.
I watched it happen in slow motion. The thick shaft sliding free, glistening with lube and cum. Nate's hole clinging to it until the last second, then gaping open when the head popped out. A perfect O, pink and puffy and thoroughly wrecked.
Cum started leaking immediately. A thick white stream that dripped down Nate's taint, over his balls, pooling on the sheets beneath him. His hole was twitching, clenching around nothing, like it didn't know what to do with the sudden emptiness.
Nate didn't move to close his legs. Didn't move at all.
"Fuck," Jace breathed, staring at his handiwork. "Look at that, Carter. That's a broken bro right there."
I looked. Nate's rim was swollen, reddened, still leaking Jace's load. His jockstrap was ruined. Stretched out, cum-soaked, barely still on his body. His whole frame was trembling with aftershocks.
"How's it feel to be a bottom, bro?" Jace asked, slapping Nate's ass lightly. The impact made more cum leak out.
Nate turned his head. His face was wrecked. Eyes wet, cheeks flushed, expression somewhere between devastated and blissed out. He looked at Jace. Then at me.
"I hate you both," he said.
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