Crossing the Line
Once the final challenge was done, Carter let Duncan deal with the freshmen. Even the naked ones.
As Carter headed back inside the frat house, two classmates clapped him on the shoulder as he passed.
“Epic touch, man, making the slides look like a cum bath this year,” one of them said. “Who knew scrawny little Benjy would pull out the win?”
“Yo, that other guy got naked first though!” his friend reminded him with a laugh. “Will Mercer, fuckin' legend."
"Yeah. Legendary hog on him too."
The two guys burst out laughing.
Carter barely listened. He just gave an easy grin and a nod. He climbed the stairs and went to his bedroom at the corner of the house -- the presidential suite, as he privately called it. He needed a quiet moment before the party.
He crossed the large room, rested his forearm against the window, and looked out over the backyard. The last traces of sunset had disappeared, and the ocean was pitch-black on the horizon.
Most of the crowd had dispersed. A few frat brothers were already folding the giant tarp and hosing down the lawn. Streaks of fake cum -- vanilla pudding mixed with some other stuff -- still glistened beneath the floodlights. By morning, there’d be little evidence that any of it had happened.
Carter's phone buzzed.
It was Hunter.
"You disappearing again tonight?" said Hunter's text.
Carter read the message twice before locking the screen.
He’d talk to Hunter tonight. When the time was right.
For months, Carter had pretended Hunter was little more than an acquaintance whenever anyone else was around. It was easier that way. Safer.
The truth was messier.
Hunter had been woven into Carter’s life for as long as he could remember -- the annoying kid who was always around, nearly two years younger. Hunter had grown up alongside Carter's sister and, somewhere along the way, became inseparable from Carter too.
Years of friendship blurred into something deeper later in high school: stolen kisses and locked bedroom doors, sweaty movie nights and secret trips to the lake.
But Carter had never found the courage to let it exist in the open. Not with his dad running for office at the time. Not with the Grace family name opening every door in Carter's future. Fear had always won.
Hunter had never understood that kind of fear. Maybe that was what Carter had loved most about him. It was also why everything had fallen apart.
But God, Carter had missed him. The smell of his hair. His easy smile. The smoothness of his shoulders beneath Carter's fingertips.
Carter had a chance to put something back together now. And if that meant using his power as frat president to nudge the odds in Hunter’s favor, so be it.
Carter wasn't proud of it. But last week, he'd planted the answers to this morning's scavenger hunt for Hunter to find. Just half a page near Hunter's favorite study spot. Easy to miss. Impossible to trace back to Carter.
It was the smallest nudge. One more step toward getting Hunter into Phi Delta Mu -- and more importantly, into the one room in the house open to a rising sophomore. Across from Carter's room. Close enough that Carter could reclaim some of the time that life had denied them...
Carter's phone chimed again, this time with a new email.
From Dean Holt.
The dean wanted a report by Monday, listing which three pledges were on track to receive bids and why. Carter let the email sit unread for another moment before glancing back outside.
He saw Duncan below, approaching four pledges who stood in a huddle: the four guys who’d stripped completely naked for the final challenge.
There was Hunter, along with rugby jock Derek Collins -- the long-expected frontrunner -- both still wet and naked and coated in the sticky white mess from the cum slide.
Jealousy pinched at Carter as he pictured Hunter stripping bare-ass naked in front of the entire frat.
Carter blamed that new kid Will Mercer for leading the charge.
And there was Will, standing beside them, with scrawny Benjy equally bare.
Yesterday, Will and Benjy had been nobodies. Now, somehow, they were challenging Hunter and Derek as the house favorites.
Four contenders. Three coveted bids.
Carter liked to believe that, as president, he controlled every part of rush.
But for the first time in a long while, he could feel something threatening to slip beyond his grasp.
Out back, Will had just stepped free from Derek’s celebratory bear hug, smiling broadly, when Duncan approached the four of them.
Derek. Hunter. Benjy. Will.
Duncan’s gaze swept across their naked bodies without the slightest discomfort. He offered them a warm smile.
“You boys ready to hit the showers?” Duncan asked.
Will noticed Derek's jaw tighten.
“The showers?” Will replied, immediately picturing the forbidden green room upstairs.
“Yeah. You guys can use the outdoor showers.” Duncan hooked a thumb toward the house. “No use going to the dorms with the others to change before the party. Just go rinse off, since you're already naked.”
Hunter glanced down at himself, his bare slim body still coated in white goo.
“Hard to argue with that.”
“C'mon,” Duncan said, jerking his head.
The four pledges gathered their discarded clothes and followed Duncan to the far side of the house. Will fell in behind Hunter and Derek, with Benjy walking beside him.
Will took the chance to admire the taller boys’ asses.
Hunter’s was a tight, rosy peach dusted with strawberry-blond hair across the cheeks.
Derek’s was fuller and paler. Two smooth globes, marked by a single freckle on the left cheek and a dense, furry crack in between.
With every step across the grass, the boys' glutes flexed beneath the moonlight.
Will nearly salivated.
He realized he didn’t have a type.
As different as Hunter and Derek were, he wanted nothing more than to slide his tongue up either of their musky cracks.
Will almost shivered at the thought.
It felt strange walking alongside these guys as if they were some team. Two days ago, they’d been strangers. Now it felt perfectly natural to stroll naked together beneath a star-filled sky.
The four freshmen followed Duncan around the corner of the house.
A cedar fence concealed a simple outdoor showerhouse tucked against the brick wall. Four showerheads stood inside, divided into two pairs by a single central partition.
Duncan turned a large chrome valve. The pipes shuddered. A second later, water burst from all four showerheads.
He set two green towels on a nearby bench, then brushed a dark blond lock from his forehead.
“I’ll grab some more towels,” he said. "Turn off your own taps when you're done."
His gaze lingered on Will for a beat before he headed back into the house.
Hunter and Derek claimed the pair of showers on the right side of the partition, shielded from the backyard by the wooden fence.
Before taking his own shower, Will stole one last look at them, watching the water trace every curve and contour of Derek’s and Hunter’s bodies as they pumped soap into their hands.
The water's shine accentuated every muscle.
Then Will and Benjy stepped around the divider to the second pair of showers. Benjy went first, removing his glasses and taking the farthest showerhead. Will claimed the one beside him.
It felt private here, cocooned by the wood paneling. Intimate.
The roar of the water filled Will's ears, stifling the others' conversation on the opposite side of the partition -- except for Derek's booming laugh every now and then.
Will's whole world was just Benjy and the steam. Warm water struck his shoulders. Will scrubbed at his skin, and the pudding gradually loosened, running from his body in pale ribbons. It pooled by his feet in clumps, turning the water milky white before disappearing down the drain.
“Still looks like cum,” Benjy said dryly.
"And sticky as hell," Will added.
Benjy held his cast carefully outside the stream of water.
“Can’t get the cast wet?” Will asked, nodding toward Benjy's arm, while rubbing his own chest.
“Not really.”
“Need any help?”
Will spoke before he had time to think. His heart hammered when he realized what he said. He almost took it back.
Benjy considered the offer for a moment. Then he smiled.
“Actually... sure.”
Will hesitated, then reached for the soap dispenser and worked a little soap between his palms until it sudsed. It smelled like oranges.
He stepped out from beneath his own shower toward Benjy's skinny frame. Benjy kept his casted arm raised beside his head, outside the water's spray.
A dense but narrow oval of dark hair filled Benjy’s armpit, flattened wet against his skin.
Without his glasses and with his curls flat against his head, Benjy looked more innocent somehow. And yet, some of his usual guardedness seemed to have washed away.
“All right. Hold still,” Will said, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice, as he reached for Benjy's body.
The white mess still clung along Benjy’s side. Will rubbed his hand briskly along Benjy's skin to get the job done.
He's not gay, Will reminded himself. He's not gay.
Will's eyes wandered downward. A narrow trail of dark hair ran from Benjy's navel into his pubes. Benjy's full, untrimmed bush looked soft and uneven, thicker on one side where the pudding had matted it into pale clumps.
And Benjy's cock was no longer soft.
His slim uncut dick slowly lifted toward Will, darker than the surrounding skin and curving gently to the left. His balls hung lower than before, one more than the other.
Benjy noticed where Will’s eyes had drifted.
“So, uh... You can ignore that,” Benjy said quietly. “Sorry...”
Benjy started to cover his penis.
Will felt his own cock begin to harden. Fast.
“Yeah. Sorry too," Will muttered, ignoring his own erection.
“You… don’t have to help if this is awkward, Will.”
“No, no, it’s fine," Will said, certain that calling it awkward would make it more awkward.
He pumped out several more handfuls of soap to distract himself.
“Turn around?” Will said softly.
Benjy obeyed, displaying his lean back and smooth ass to his friend.
Will rubbed the soap vigorously between his palms again before spreading the lather over the places Benjy couldn’t reach.
Benjy’s ass was smaller than Derek’s, smoother than Hunter’s. Vanilla pudding caked the cleft between Benjy's asscheeks.
Will’s pulse accelerated.
“Uh...” he murmured.
“What?”
“You’ve still got pudding…”
“…Everywhere?”
“Pretty much,” Will admitted, his hands on Benjy's shoulders.
Benjy gave a nervous laugh.
“Looks like someone came on my butt, doesn’t it?”
“Uh, yeah. A bit,” Will fought back a laugh, surprised by Benjy's directness.
Benjy shifted his weight, arching his back ever so slightly. His butt opened up just enough.
"Would you mind just... helping out?" Benjy said, facing the wall.
Does he really need my help? Will wondered.
Will carefully worked the soap over the outer curve of Benjy’s ass.
Then he passed his fingertips through the outside of Benjy's silky smooth cleft, down its full length, loosening the sticky residue before the water washed it away.
Emboldened, Will grabbed and held one of Benjy's firm buttcheeks to the side too, allowing the water to course through the hairless center.
Will's cock was perilously stiff.
Then he noticed a sticky mess that clung lower still, behind Benjy’s knees. He lowered himself, crouching until his face was level with Benjy’s tight little ass.
Water splashed off Benjy's skin and onto Will's face, as Will swatted the last of the white goo away.
Just a friendly hand, Will reminded himself. But the longer it lasted, the less practical it felt.
Will heard Derek and Hunter turn off their taps and exit the showerhouse on the other side of the wall, already drying off on the lawn.
“So… I think that’s the last of it,” Will muttered.
When Will stood again, his rock-hard cock -- pointing eight inches forward -- swung heavy against Benjy's asscheek, warm to the touch.
Benjy turned to face Will, surprised.
His dick was also stiff.
Water streamed over Benjy's hair and down his face.
His gaze lingered over Will’s bare chest before he looked lower. Much lower.
Benjy's eyes widened at the sight.
And then footsteps approached.
Benjy jumped back abruptly, his feet splashing and his cast nearly striking the wall.
Will turned away from the entrance, shielding himself, but he peered over his shoulder.
It was Duncan again.
He appeared in the opening, carrying another stack of towels.
Duncan stopped. His eyes shifted from Benjy to Will. Nobody spoke.
“Will was, um, helping me,” Benjy said unprompted, turning off his shower.
He lifted his cast as proof and tried to cover his dick with his one good hand.
Duncan looked at Benjy's cast, then further down.
“Yeah, I see that...”
Duncan threw Benjy a towel. Benjy wrapped it around himself immediately and stepped quickly out of the showerhouse and past Duncan to get dressed.
Only Will remained. And Duncan stepped inside.
The wooden floorboards creaked beneath Duncan's weight.
He offered the final towel to Will.
Will reached behind himself for it, but Duncan kept hold of the other end.
“Bold move today, dude,” Duncan said softly, still holding the towel.
Will felt his pulse jump. He looked at Duncan.
Did Duncan mean sneaking into the green room upstairs?
Or feeling up Benjy?
Will's eyes searched for an answer.
"Stripping naked for the final challenge," Duncan clarified.
“Oh. Just... did what I had to do to win.”
Duncan smiled.
“Sure."
Will could've sworn Duncan's eyes flashed down to his ass.
Then Duncan let go and strolled back to the house.
"Don't miss the party, boys," he called out to the other three freshmen.
Will wrapped the towel around his waist, pinning his solid cock upward against his navel.
He leaned with his hand on the planked wall and took a deep breath before stepping out.
Outside the showerhouse, Hunter was pulling on his briefs. Derek stood beside him, still naked, rubbing a towel through his dark hair, which stood straight up.
“You guys ready then?” Derek asked Will and Benjy.
Benjy nodded quietly, and Will cleared his throat.
“Uh. Yeah,” Will answered, while putting his clothes back on, starting with his shirt.
“Good," Hunter added, pulling up his shorts. "We got a party to go to.”
The house felt different at night.
The moment that Will and his new buddies stepped through the front door, the dimness and noise swallowed the four of them whole.
Colorful string lights ran along the ceilings, tinting everyone's faces. And the crowd was deafening. Music pounded somewhere deeper inside the house, the bass vibrating beneath their feet. Someone had already spilled beer across the foyer. The sticky floor crackled beneath Will’s shoes, and the air was unmistakably malty.
Will walked next to Benjy but, after the shower, couldn't bring himself to look at him. Benjy seemed committed to the same plan.
Derek glanced back, making sure they were all still together.
“This is a real party!” Derek shouted back with a gleam in his eye.
A group of sorority girls across the foyer noticed him and pointed admiringly. Derek smiled, nodding in their direction, and two of the girls immediately went bashful.
“Let’s get a drink,” Hunter yelled, drumming on Derek's shoulder.
The foursome traced the wall of the foyer, trying to avoid the worst of the crowd.
Will found himself brushing past the old frat photos he’d noticed that morning. Rows and rows of young men. Each frame held dozens of labeled portraits arranged alphabetically beneath a class year.
Will remembered what Derek had said earlier: Derek's dad had been in Phi-D-M too.
Will slowed.
If Derek’s father had been here in the late eighties, then…
1987... 1988... 1989...
One frame caught Will's attention, and he stopped.
Among the C’s was a familiar last name.
Will leaned toward the glass and squinted through the darkness. The photo was small, but the resemblance was unmistakable. Same strong jaw. Same dark hair. It was Derek twenty years earlier. Or close enough.
MARK COLLINS. Class of 1991.
Mark Collins was handsome too. Narrower in the face than his son, with feathered dark hair and an innocence that Derek lacked.
“Will!”
Will looked up.
Hunter was several yards ahead, waving him along.
Will followed and hurried after the others into the next room. It smelled of hops and sweat. Man musk hung in the air, and guys stood shoulder to shoulder, grasping for beers at a bar.
Hunter pushed toward the bar first, and four plastic cups appeared. Will took one and looked down at the foam.
“Uh. How much do I owe you?” Will asked.
Hunter laughed, thinking Will was joking, then caught himself.
“It's free.”
Will smiled. Of course it was free. For a second, Will wondered what a party like this must cost. The food that afternoon. The beer tonight. Nobody here seemed to think about money.
Will couldn't help worrying about it though. Not since his dad lost his job in the recession last year.
He took a long sip.
Free tasted pretty good.
Hunter looked over Will's shoulder. He seemed to spot somebody through the crowd. Then he took off in a hurry toward them.
“Catch you guys later,” Hunter said. He vanished before anyone could answer.
With beers in hand, Derek led Will and Benjy through the house.
They cut through the kitchen, littered with empty cans and cardboard boxes. They squeezed through a game room with a battered pool table, a widescreen TV, and burly guys sprawled across overstuffed couches.
Along the back hallway, half-hidden by the crowd, Will saw Hunter again. He was talking to Carter.
Hunter and Carter stood close together, and they looked serious, deep in conversation.
Will almost waved.
But then Derek led Will and Benjy into the next room -- the living room -- where there was just enough room to breathe better.
Two of the frat’s officers, Jason and Marcus, joined their circle with fist bumps. They had solid builds, like real men, and seemed to know Derek well.
“Dude, you’re in a good spot with rush,” Jason said, punching Derek’s arm. “The brothers are loving you.”
Will recognized Jason -- he was the shirtless frat brother who had caught him and Benjy in the green room upstairs. Will grew anxious around him, yet Jason acted like they'd never met before.
The conversation quickly turned to sports and girls, two topics that always made Will tune out.
So Will turned to survey the crowd.
And there was Duncan far across the room.
Duncan was sitting back comfortably in a deep leather armchair, with one hand behind his head and his ankle over his knee. He was chatting with a few guys, looking completely at ease amid the chaos, scratching his blond beard.
From his vantage point, Duncan could keep an eye on the whole room.
“So Duncan’s just here all the time?” Will asked the circle of guys.
Derek went silent. He chewed at the inside of his cheek, then took a drink.
“Pretty much,” Marcus chimed in.
“That's, like, his job? Just being the frat dad?” Will asked.
“Nah, house dad's just a side gig from what I’ve heard,” Marcus said.
"Yeah,” Jason added. "Duncan's got another job by the beach. He's a physical therapist or massage therapist or something."
"Thought he taught yoga," Marcus said.
"Whatever. Some hippie body shit," Jason said.
"Heard he's fuckin' someone on the faculty too," Marcus said, lowering his voice.
Derek looked over. "What?"
“Yeah.”
“Like a professor?” Benjy asked, intrigued.
“No idea. But apparently she's loaded and her name's Erin-something.”
"Where'd you get that?" Derek asked.
Marcus looked over his shoulder.
"I heard Carter saying Duncan's been acting like Erin's little bitch ever since Erin got some big promotion on campus."
"Whoa. Hope Erin-something's giving him some good pussy too," Jason quipped.
Derek and Marcus chuckled.
“Yo, Collins!” Someone shouted Derek’s name from the other side of the room.
Derek lifted his cup and called back cheerfully.
He turned back to Will and Benjy.
“You guys good from here?”
Will nodded as if he had to.
“Cool, catch you guys later.”
Derek disappeared into the sea of men. Feeling awkward with the officers on their own, Will and Benjy peeled away from Marcus and Jason and wove through the crowd.
As they left the room, they passed Duncan, who gave Will and Benjy another half-smile.
A few beers later, and Will's feet felt lighter.
He didn't feel quite so awkward around Benjy anymore.
Sometime around midnight, Benjy nudged him gently with the edge of his cast.
“Hey,” he murmured. “You wanna get some air?”
“Sure.”
They slipped through the back door onto the terrace. Outside, Will realized just how drunk he was. His vision lagged half a beat behind.
Across the sloping lawn, just over the back hedge, the ocean was mostly invisible. But Will could hear the steady rush of the surf somewhere in the darkness.
“Maybe we can spot the waves from up here,” Benjy mumbled.
They stumbled down the lawn, and the noise of the party softened with every step. The backyard was deserted now, and by the time Will and Benjy were near the end, the windows behind them looked the size of postage stamps.
As Benjy walked beside Will, their hands brushed. But neither acknowledged it.
A few steps later, it happened again: Benjy’s knuckles rubbed against Will's, and Will felt a hole in his stomach.
He glanced sideways, but Benjy was still looking straight ahead.
Will was sure his stupid drunk self was making shit up again.
Benjy’s not gay. Will heard the words echo in his mind. He's not gay. He has a girlfriend... Or had one.
Will drew the salty air deep into his lungs.
He thought about Benjy’s body in the shower -- smooth and tight and wet. He surprised himself by thinking about it.
Until tonight, he hadn’t really thought about Benjy that way.
Not like Derek, anyway. Or Duncan. Those guys walked into a room and Will’s cock seemed to make up its mind immediately.
Benjy was just… Benjy. His buddy in the basement. The first person here who seemed as out-of-place as Will. Being around him had become easy.
Will glanced sideways again. Benjy’s glasses kept slipping down his nose. He was biting his lip as if holding back words.
Cute, Will thought.
Actually… really cute.
Maybe it was the beer talking. Maybe it was just the thrill of the shower.
Will wasn't sure whether he craved Benjy or just wanted somebody to crave. The uncertainty alone made him feel guilty.
But... maybe Will didn’t need to know yet.
Right now, he just wanted to know what could happen if he pushed them over the edge.
This whole weekend, every good thing seemed to happen just after he stopped being afraid.
So Will Mercer took a chance.
He grazed his hand against Benjy’s.
Then, carefully, he caught Benjy’s fingertips with his own.
This time, Benjy didn’t move away.
Neither of them spoke until they reached the end of the lawn. They sat on an old wooden bench tucked along the hedge.
“I had fun today,” Benjy said finally. He said it so softly, it was like he was speaking to himself.
Will looked over.
“Me too.”
“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d make any friends here.”
Will smiled.
“Same.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward anymore. It was comfortable. They sat shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the frat house atop the hill.
The party had become little more than a muffled pulse of bass and laughter. The sound of the surf rolled steadily behind them.
After a long moment, Benjy turned slightly toward Will.
“Hey Will?”
“Yeah?”
“When you... told me this morning that you liked guys...” He hesitated. “...was I the first person here you told?”
Will nodded.
“Yeah.”
Benjy smiled, looking equal parts honored and nervous.
“Oh... Thanks. I guess.”
The breeze wafted through, carrying the cool smell of salt off the ocean.
Benjy stood abruptly, turned, and wandered the few steps to the hedge, dragging his fingertips along the cool leaves without looking back at Will.
“I still can’t believe you just... got naked in front of everyone,” Benjy said.
Will smiled. Yesterday, he never would’ve expected to become the poster boy for adventurous exhibitionism. But here he was.
"So did you, you know," Will said. Then he added, teasingly: "Eventually."
“Yeah, but you didn’t even hesitate.”
Will laughed quietly. “I was freaking out inside, trust me.”
“You still did it.” Benjy looked toward him. “How can you be scared of something and just… do it anyway?”
Will didn’t have an answer.
Benjy took a breath and looked at his feet.
"Look, this weekend's been completely insane, and I know we kinda just met, but I..." Benjy's voice thinned. "I think you're awesome."
Benjy began fidgeting with his own fingers, as though saying that had used up whatever courage he’d managed to collect.
"I really like you," Benjy added.
Will stared at him.
There it was. Clear as ever.
Benjy liked guys. Benjy liked him.
Will’s cock began inflating at record speed.
He glanced toward the house. Nobody was nearby.
“I like you too,” Will finally said.
Will stood up. Then he crossed the few steps between them and reached for Benjy's good hand to test the waters. Benjy didn't pull back.
So Will drew him closer.
Close enough that Will could count Benjy’s eyelashes.
The kiss began badly. Their noses collided. Will tilted the other way and tried again.
This time, their lips met properly.
Benjy’s lips were soft and full. Tentative at first. But then they parted slightly for him, and Will finally remembered to breathe through his nose.
For a few moments, the party disappeared. There was only the steady rush of the waves below them. The cool breeze coming off the coast. The faint thump of music behind them. Benjy’s skin still smelled like vanilla and oranges. His breath was hot and carried the taste of cheap lager.
And, beneath all of it, Benjy’s pulse grew faster. His good hand caught the front of Will’s shirt and pulled him closer as if a dam had broken. The kiss deepened, as Benjy was pressed against the hedge. Their hands began roaming more.
Then Benjy pulled back ever so slightly. He rested his forehead against Will’s, eyes still closed. His hand trembled against Will’s chest.
“This is the...” Benjy swallowed. “This is the first time I’ve done... anything with a guy.” He said it almost like an apology.
Will’s heart jumped.
“Oh.”
“Like... anything.”
Will hadn't done much either, but he remembered his own first time kissing a boy, not that he'd kissed many. The endless uncertainty beforehand. The newness of the sensation. And that strange electric instant when their skin would meet and the rest of the world dissolved.
Will tried not to make Benjy’s confession seem bigger than Benjy already thought it was.
"Okay," he said simply.
“I mean, I’ve thought about stuff,” Benjy said quickly, the words tumbling out now. “Like a lot, actually.” He hesitated, then continued. “Like... in the shower. I-- I know I wanted you to keep touching me...”
Will's heartbeat pulsed in his ears.
“Yeah?” His voice went low.
Benjy nodded.
“And when you got hard?” Benjy’s voice gained a nervous little edge, as he ran a finger down Will's chest. “Kind of hard not to notice.”
Heat climbed Will’s face. He grabbed the back of Benjy’s neck then kissed him harder.
The tension collapsed from Benjy's body. His hand slid across the soft plane of Will's stomach before settling over the front of Will’s shorts.
“Fuck.” Will inhaled sharply.
Benjy rubbed Will’s full length once through the fabric.
“Okay. Wow.” Benjy laughed breathily.
Will reached for Benjy in return.
Will could feel him hard beneath the denim. He pictured Benjy as he’d seen him beneath the shower: naked, wet, his slim cock rising from that soft black bush. He wondered how Benjy would look close up, only an inch away, as Will traced his finger along Benjy's bulge.
For a minute, they stood in the darkness, kissing more boldly by the second, touching each other through their clothes.
Benjy whispered, “This is so dumb.”
Will’s stomach dropped.
Then Benjy added:
“Our clothes are in the way.”
A grin flickered across Benjy’s face. He began pawing at his fly, awkwardly with one hand. So Will helped him, unbuttoning Benjy’s jeans, lowering his fly, and pulling his underwear down just enough.
Benjy’s cock sprang up from his dense black bush.
Benjy looked toward Will’s crotch expectantly, his hand resting on Will’s stomach.
Will unbuttoned his shorts and unzipped slowly. He kept his eyes on Benjy’s face, relishing the anticipation there.
Will dropped his shorts -- only his shorts -- which pooled around his ankles with a soft thump.
Then he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his blue boxer briefs.
The fabric was tented, his eight-inch cock at full mast.
Looking at Benjy’s wide, expectant eyes, Will realized how much he lived for this particular instant.
Being revealed.
Being seen.
Fuck.
Will slid his underwear down along his cock until it sprang free, slapping Benjy’s cock aside.
By impulse, Benjy’s hand tightened around Will’s shirt. Then they stepped into a patch of shadow along the hedge.
Will reached out first.
His hand closed around Benjy’s slim cock, squeezing near his slick uncut head. Benjy was already leaking, his foreskin gliding smoothly over his wet glans as Will pulsed his fist.
Benjy wrapped his hand around Will's cock in return. His fingers were unable to meet his thumb, and another incredulous breath escaped his lips.
"Geez," Benjy said.
"You like?"
"Yeah... Holding another guy's dick feels so different," Benjy murmured.
"You're doing good," Will said, as he slowly pumped into Benjy's fist. "That's it."
Will and Benjy found an uneven rhythm together, each learning what the other liked. Will’s fist moved slowly at first, letting Benjy’s foreskin slide beneath his fingers.
Benjy was less certain, gripping Will too tightly one second and too loosely the next, but the clumsiness somehow made it hotter.
Will hacked spit into his palm and returned his hand to Benjy’s cock, slicking his fingers over the head before stroking downward. Benjy shuddered against him.
“Fuck,” Benjy whispered.
Their mouths found each other again.
Flush against Benjy’s lips, Will couldn’t stop smiling.
Will knew what felt good. He slowed whenever Benjy’s breathing caught, then tightened his fist and drew it upward again.
Soon their bodies had drifted closer. Their cocks bumped together between them, slick and rigid.
Will’s free hand slipped behind Benjy, his palm settling over Benjy’s bare ass and drawing their hips tighter together.
Then Will wrapped his hand around both shafts as best he could and pulled Benjy flush against him.
Their cocks rubbed side by side.
Benjy’s breathing changed first. Will noticed immediately. Shorter breaths. A tremor in Benjy's knees.
Benjy broke the kiss and looked down.
“Oh fuck, I’m close.” Benjy almost whimpered.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Stroke your cock against mine.” Benjy’s voice broke.
"Fuckin' rubbing our cocks together."
“Fuck, you’re so big,” Benjy gasped.
Will was surprised to hear Benjy talking like that. He loved it.
Benjy squeezed his eyes shut, his face tightening.
“Oh fuck-- oh fuck--”
Benjy released Will’s cock and clutched the hedge, his head on Will's shoulder.
“Oh fuck, Will. Oh my God, oh my g--”
Will shifted sideways, giving Benjy ample room to aim.
Benjy's body jerked once, then again.
"Oh baby, whoa baby," Benjy cried out, dropping his head onto Will's shoulder.
Will found Benjy's idea of dirty talk to be endearing.
And Will was glad he’d moved aside.
Benjy’s first cumshot sailed several feet across the lawn, followed quickly by three more, just as heavy, rustling the blades of grass as they landed.
“Holy shit…” Will muttered, then let out a soft chuckle and rubbed Benjy's back.
For several seconds, Benjy stayed completely still, his forehead still against Will’s shoulder, his chest rising and falling.
Will was seconds away from cumming himself, but he smiled anyway. He felt happy to be of service. To feel like he was desirable enough to make a guy cum.
Then Benjy lifted his head and slowly stepped backward.
Something had changed.
The warmth had vanished from his expression almost instantly.
“Benj? You okay?” Will asked.
“I...” Benjy looked down at himself. “Oh for fuck's sake...”
Will’s smile faded.
“What?”
Benjy looked at Will, then away.
“I...”
Will knew that look. He remembered that sudden post-nut clarity after a first experience, the race to interrogate how it all happened.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Will reached for Benjy’s arm.
“No.” Benjy twitched away.
“Benj.”
“No, I shouldn’t have…” His words began coming faster. “I told myself I wouldn’t. I… I promised myself. I-- I just don’t know what this means.”
“It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“Easy for you to say.”
The words landed sharper than Benjy probably intended.
Will went still, and Benjy saw it immediately.
“I mean… I’m sorry, I--”
“It’s fine.” Will heard the coldness entering his own voice.
“Will.”
“It’s fine.”
Benjy opened his mouth but seemed unable to find anything else to say.
He hurriedly pulled up his underwear and jeans one-handed. He paused one last time.
“I'm sorry,” Benjy whispered simply.
Then he turned and started up the lawn. Will watched him disappear around the side of the house and toward the road.
Will stayed frozen beside the hedge, half-dressed, his erection fading painfully.
Benjy’s rejection registered slowly over Will. Except it wasn’t rejection exactly. That might have been easier.
It was worse. It was regret. Benjy regretted him.
Benjy had kissed him. Touched him. Wanted him. Benjy had cum hard for him. And it was only after it all that he regretted it.
Settling over him like a fog, embarrassment came first. Then anger, sharp in the chest.
“Fuck this.”
Will yanked his shorts up. He rubbed both hands over his face.
“Fuck!” he shouted again, louder this time.
The word vanished into the night. Behind him, the party continued behind the glowing windows as if nothing had happened.
Will started climbing the lawn, his hands curling into fists.
Fine.
Whatever.
He wasn’t even into Benjy anyway. Look at the other guys in this house. Derek. Hunter. Duncan. Benjy barely measured up.
The thought of dismissing Benjy arrived so quickly that some small, sober corner of Will knew it was bullshit. But he was drunk and desperate enough to believe it.
Will had walked back halfway up the lawn when he finally noticed somebody on the terrace.
Will stopped.
It was Duncan.
Duncan the Frat Dad.
Of course.
Fucking Duncan again.
The house dad sat on the terrace's railing with a beer in his hand.
Even from here, Will could tell Duncan was looking straight at him. And Will hated Duncan's stupid look of sympathy.
Will wondered how much Duncan had seen. Another cold pulse of anger cut through the alcohol.
“Fucking perv,” he muttered to himself.
He marched toward the terrace.
“How long were you there?” Will called as he climbed the steps, feeling defiant.
Duncan didn’t answer.
“Are you just watching everyone all the fucking time?”
“Will, are you okay--”
“Just leave m--” Will stumbled on the last step and caught himself. “Just leave me... the fuck... alone.”
He brushed past Duncan. For the first time, Duncan’s attention felt neither flattering nor ominous.
It was just irritating as fuck.
Will yanked open the back door and disappeared into the house. It was less crowded at this late hour.
Will could feel his feet growing heavy, dragging along.
His eyes adjusted to the darkness as he felt his way forward, his head almost spinning.
Will was desperate. Desperate to dissociate. Desperate for some corner where he could sulk alone.
All along, his cock still throbbed against his waistband, miserable and unsatisfied.
Will turned to enter the darkened game room and pushed through the half-open door.
The sight before him made him stop in his tracks.
The TV cast a flickering, bluish glow across four upperclassmen, leaning back on the leather couches and surrounded by beer cans.
Jason and Marcus were among them. One of the others held a joint.
The boys each had their pants around their ankles, and their thick, hairy penises were solid in their hands.
The TV was emitting the unmistakable sound of fucking -- the slap of flesh against flesh, a woman's moaning, and a deep gruff voice grunting about his fat cock.
All four frat brothers looked over at Will, who stood speechless in the doorway.
But nobody scrambled to cover himself. Nobody even seemed embarrassed.
Jason just smirked darkly at Will.
“Yo, Mercer.”
He nodded toward an empty chair.
“Join the club.”
--TO BE CONTINUED--
Author's Note: Enjoy! Please share any feedback on the story in the comments below or at [email protected].
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