This is probably the first time I’ve dressed this nice since my mom could dress me. Teddy and I walk to the union together. I’ve got too many jitters zapping through my fingers to feel okay.
“Ready to get yer bid?”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“You’re walking like you got a fish hook in your ass.”
“I might.”
We walk together into a large ballroom. Vaulted ceilings, polished wood floors gleaming under warm chandeliers. School banners hang on the walls, and there’s a raised platform at the front where members of the IFC stand behind a table stacked with envelopes. A long, bright blue tablecloth drapes over it. I stand in clusters with the other PNMs I recognize. Gian saunters in.
His hair’s a little windswept, and his collar’s popped enough to look like he’s effortless. He falls into place near me, charming me with his devastatingly handsome smile.
“Guess this is it.” He rocks on his heels with his fingers looped around each other behind his back.
“You nervous?”
“Fuck me, yeah I’m nervous.”
A man takes the podium. “Thank you all for participating in this year’s recruitment process. We appreciate your time, energy, and your dedication to finding a brotherhood.” He gestures toward the table. “At this time, we will begin handing out bids.”
Envelopes are passed down the line and the IFC president takes the podium. Whispers swirl through the air. Teddy nudges me. “Deep breath.”
“Sutton,” the president calls out.
My fingers tinge the corner of the envelope with sweat as we wait for everyone to collect their bids. I shiver, my eyes tracing the last batch of boys as they receive their own envelopes.
“Alright, boys. Everyone should have gotten an envelope. You can open them now.”
The room stalls, and then explodes into a mix of gasps, a few cheers, but most are quiet murmurs. My eyes dart across the page to the bold script lettering of my name and an invitation signed by Lachlan. Teddy wraps an arm around me and pulls me into a deep side hug, and Gian’s glance meets mine, a slow grin spreading across his face.
I fold the letter carefully and slide it back into the envelope, tucking it away into the pocket of my tux. Outside, the sun dips low on the horizon as I walk with Gian and Teddy back to Frat Row. They’re caught in an impassioned conversation about the superior shaping of a cowboy hat.
“Nahhh mate, gotta have the round brim for the sun on the side of your head.”
“Dude, those just ain’t look right. Make you look like Crocodile Dundee.”
Gian laughs. “Bullshit. Those are for winter sun and they just don’t hold up in the conditions of the Aussie summer.”
“Bull-shit,” Teddy pushes back, his accent thicker while he defends himself.
“Reckon you’ll have to show me some of your stuff, yeah?”
“Reckon I will,” Teddy chuckles.
Gian nudges me. “Cameron, you gonna back me up here or let this rogue Texan slander a good hat?”
“I was born in North Carolina, mind you,” Teddy shoots back.
Gian scoffs. I shake my head. “Y’all are ridiculous.”
“Y’all,” Gian mutters.
“See? Already halfway to Southern,” Teddy replies.
“You’re not gonna corrupt me.”
“That ain’t my job, now's it?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Teddy shrugs, and then says goodbye as he walks off to his frat’s house. We walk inside our new house and take a look around. The rest of the boys follow in. The doors close behind us, and the lights flick off.
“What do you reckon this is?” Gian asks.
Before I can respond, brothers come down the stairs in pairs wearing ivory cloaks which whisper devotion behind each step. The burnt orange flickers in the candlelight while they move with practiced grace to form a semicircle around us.
Then Carter and Lachlan emerge like kings. Carter’s robe catches the light with a subtle sheen. The ivory fabric edged in deep bronze and vibrant burnt orange. There’s a laurel reef embroidered across his shoulders and it glimmers like molten copper. Over his heart, the frat crest embroidered in gold thread.
Lachlan’s robe steals the room. It’s that same orange all over, a deep, liquid flame adorned in thick ivory cuffs. His robe has swirling gold and ivory foliage that swirls across his shoulders, and a massive crest that sprawls across his chest. A silk sash with golden tassels drapes across his torso, moving gently as he shifts.
“Welcome, pledges,” Carter says, his voice deep and resonant, “to your first real step in becoming part of this brotherhood. You have proven up to now, that you carry the values which we hold sacred. You have shown us your investment with our brotherhood, and even through this week, you have grown to be more than who you were, with both us and to yourselves. Very few men ever get to see the inside of this house, and even fewer get to be a part of our ritual and our brotherhood.”
Lachlan picks up. “I’ve never seen a class like this. Not in the stories I’ve heard, nor in my own time with the brotherhood. You’ve impressed us. Not just with your efforts, but with the presence and grit that we demand of every man here. I’m proud of the work you boys’ve done, and I look forward to the men of the brotherhood you will soon grow to be.
“Before we begin, however, what happens within these walls stays sealed within them. Our rites, our bonds, our failures and triumphs, our rituals and sacred words– they are ours and ours alone. That is the first rule of brotherhood in any fraternity, and if you share any sacred details with any other member, there will be heavy consequences. If you swear to protect this fraternity and its institutions, say ‘I do.’”
“I do,” we echo.
“Good.”
Carter leads us downstairs to the basement and Lachlan trails. They unlatch the heavy metal door to reveal a room with several brothers tending to a smoldering pot in the center. The cloaked brothers join the others, and they form a circle around us silently. I look at Gian for reassurance. Carter and Lachlan step to the center and grab a metal brand from the pot.
“Every brother’s legacy begins with fire. Not the flame that burns, but the ember that endures long after even the most spectacular blaze. Tonight, you join that fire. Not to be consumed, but to carry the mark of the ember.”
“This isn’t meant to brand,” Lachlan says. “It won’t sear you,” a few boys sigh with relief, “but it will mark you with the ash that makes this world. Lachlan presses the metal brand into a log by the pot and it hisses as the frat’s crest smokes into it. “When your name is called, you will kneel in front of the basin and myself or Carter will mark you.
“First up– Sutton.”
My throat tightens as I step up and kneel, the embers burn my face. Carter lifts my shirt over my head, and before I can prepare, Lachlan presses the crest into the meat of my shoulder. I wince, but then realize it’s not that hot at all. It's easy.
Lachlan grabs my forearm and lifts me, his eyes meeting mine while I look up to him. “Per Ignem, Fratres,” he murmurs. A brother ties a white cloth around my forearm, and then Lachlan calls the next name.
My mind goes blank for most of the ceremony while I rock on my heels and fiddle with the knot in the cloth, loosening it and retightening it methodically until my arm throbs, then undoing it while the warmth of my own blood reaches my fingertips. The circle tightens around us as the ceremony passes, forcing us to fall in line inside the group of men until their chests press into our backs. I glance over at Gian, who stands silently with illegible eyes. Once the last name is called, Carter raises his hand to silence us.
“Tonight,” Lachlan clears his throat. “You have all taken your first step. Remember, this mark is more than the ash on your skin. It is a promise to yourself and your brothers that this fire—,” he gestures around the bleak room, “never dies.”
Lachlan leads us to another room connected to this one, further into the darkness of the underground. The new room is smaller and colder, with tables around the edges, candles in the center of each. “Now,” Lachlan begins, “you will write a word to yourself on the paper in front of you. Then, you will throw it into the basin and free yourself from it.”
Around me, the low airiness of ragged breaths and scribbling fills the room. Finally I scrawl. Alone. My hands tremble unreasonably while I fold the paper carefully and stand. I drop my paper into the embers. It flutters briefly, then curls and burns, releasing a thin wisp of smoke that rises like a fleeing soul. Around me, other boys do the same. The air grows thick with the scent of resolve and tinged with the ash that bubbles into an exhaust fan in the corner. I hope the house doesn’t burn down.
“By letting go of these burdens, you free yourself to carry your fire with purpose.”
The other brothers nod. A group of them carry the basin outside to dispose of it. The room falls silent and I stare at the open door behind me.
“Now, join me in the vow that seals your first step into the brotherhood.” Lachlan holds his left hand out in front of him with the palm up. “I swear to protect the fire within me.”
We repeat. “To honor the brotherhood that will forge me.” We repeat.
“And to uphold the legacy of those before me, and to blaze the path of those thereafter.”
Finally, “To carry the flame through trials and triumphs until my last breaths.”
The room hums with quiet power as the brothers put their heads down again, the hoods obscuring each one. A brother steps forward with a small wooden box, opening it to reveal simple silver pins embossed with the frat’s crest. “These pins mark the beginning of your journey. Wear them with pride on your lapel or over your heart. A brother will come around and attach your pin to your shirt, and afterwards, he will show you our pledge grip.”
Several brothers disperse and attach pins. A brother comes by and holds my hand out. “Intertwine your fingers with mine,” he whispers. “Good. Now, without fully clasping, press your thumb against the back of my hand. Good. Hold it for a second– no longer than two.” He releases me.
“That’s your pledge grip.” Lachlan says. “If you cannot complete it, you cannot advance to new member ed, nor formal bonding events. That said, if you forget it you have– to find me. You cannot go to anyone other than the president.”
“For the last thing tonight, boys. You will get a big brother.” Lachlan steps back and another brother steps forward.
The brother begins to speak. “We have selected from what we have learned about you– what your interests are, who you like, who you don’t. Your big brother isn’t just a mentor. He will guide you, challenge you, and the confidant to all the secrets you will learn here.”
The brother begins to call out names at random, and each brother goes to stand behind their new little.
“Giordanozzo,” The man calls out. Gian looks up sharply. “Van der Breek.”
No fucking way. He got Carter? Carter said he was gonna make sure he was my big. My chest tightens while Carter looks over at Gian and then to me. No smile, no words, just a hefty silence as he steps behind Gian.
“Sutton,” he says. “Calloway.”
Are you fucking kidding me? Reuben looks over my way, eyes sharp on mine before they fall into a cool smile. He walks over and stands behind me, his fingers brushing my wrists. A shiver runs down my spine as he settles over me.
“Alright boys. You have the rest of the night to get to know your bigs,” Lachlan says. “Meet in the back yard at 11.”
The crowd around us begins to stir, whispers and small movements spilling into louder banter. I glance at Gian and Carter. What the fuck? I don’t want this man as my big. I consider confronting Lachlan about it, but he’s already disappeared. I don’t want this.
“So,” Reuben says, fully taking my hand. “I think it’s finally time to see what you’re made of.”
We walk from the basement up to the third floor, and his grip never loosens. He shuts the door behind me and locks it, and suddenly I’m in a prison. I back away from him as he drops his robe onto the chair in the corner of his room. I look around, behind me, up at the vaulted ceilings and I make my way back around the king size bed. He just smiles and approaches, closing in on me as I back into the far corner of his room. Why does he get such a nice room? This could fit four or five of the rooms downstairs.
Reuben leans in and puts his hand on my neck. “Relax, Sutton.”
My breath catches and my body goes stiff. He begins to press his thumb into my neck and I start to panic.
“Why you shaking, pussy? I thought you were tougher than that.”
I puff my chest and force myself to stand straighter.
“Cute,” he taunts. “You’ve been told you’re a big shot, Sutton, and maybe you are. Top dog, huh? You’re used to that. But my job is to break those top dogs until I can shape them however I want.”
My eyes flash, and my mind ventures back to the same words that Carter said to me the first time we met. “Get your hands off of me, Reuben,” I sneer.
His smirk doesn’t falter, but his eyes darken. I press my own hands into his neck, and without thinking again, I slap him as hard as I can. The crack of my hand against Reuben’s face echoes in the room like a gunshot through thick, misty air. My hand stings, and my chest heaves as his hand loosens. Reuben’s smirk vanishes, replaced by hatred while my mind blanks.
“Fuck, Sutton,” he says, rubbing his face and pinching his lips. “You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that. But you just made the biggest mistake of your life.”
Before I can act, he’s lifting me into the air. The air rushes out of my lungs as his fingers dig into my skin. I kick uselessly against him, the room spins, and my back slams against the wall with a thud that rattles my bones.
“You think you can touch me like that, Sutton?” he growls, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re not a pnm, now. You’re mine, and you’re gonna learn what that means.”
“You don’t fucking scare me,” I spit.
“I don’t? Huh. Guess I’ll have to work on that.” He slings me down to the ground, and I roll onto the carpet. I bounce up to all fours while Reuben closes in behind me. He crouches, his knee against my back and face level with mine. “Oh, Sutton. How fucking cute you are when you’re trying to be tough.”
“I’m not scared of you.”
“You damn well oughta be.”
Reuben stands and strips his shirt off, matted fur covering his massive muscles. I look up at him while he strips down to his underwear now. I slide back on my ass until I get enough distance to stand.
“I’m gonna carve the fear into you, you little shit. I’m gonna make you beg to obey.”
“You’re a fucking sadist, Reuben. This isn’t brotherhood.”
“And what are you gonna do about it?”
“Lachlan would kick you out of the house.”
He chuckles and backs away, retrieving his phone from his pocket. “Hey, Lachlan,” he says with a chilling steadiness. “You mind coming upstairs for a second?”
He puts his phone down on the bed and walks over to the door, flicking the lock open and cracking it. I hear Lachlan’s footsteps, but Reuben’s on me before he appears. He guides me by the back of my neck in front of his bed, and then, right as Lachlan rounds the corner, he fastens me into a crushing headlock. The room spins as he ratchets his arm shut and lifts me off the ground, arching his back to keep my feet dangling. I claw at his iron muscles uselessly while Lachlan watches me struggle.
“Thought we talked about this, Reuben,” Lachlan says, almost bored.
“Just making sure there’s no disobedience. He needs to learn.”
Lachlan shrugs and shoulder and runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah, well. Don’t kill him, alright?” Lachlan redirects his eyes to me. “You gonna keep pissing him off, Sutton?”
“I… I didn’t–” I stammer.
“The bitch slapped me across the face,” Reuben interjects.
“Oh boy,” Lachlan breathes lazily. “Bad call, Sutton.”
Reuben smirks as he constricts the last of the air for me. I watch Lachlan walk away and close the door behind him. Reuben pushes me away and I fall, the impact rattling my teeth. Reuben leans in close. “See that, golden boy? Even Lachlan doesn’t give a shit.”
I struggle to swallow through his hand back around my throat. “Reuben, please.”
“Please?” He mocks. “No one’s gonna save you, Sutton.”
“You’re just another coward with muscle.”
His eyes flare, and for a split second I think he might strike me again. I raise my hands to cover my face only for him to release a cruel chuckle. “That mouth’s gonna get you hurt again.”
He stands, breathing hard now himself. He doesn’t move or touch me this time. Maybe he’s daring me to try something, so I do. I lurch up and ram my shoulder into his ribs, catching him off guard. We both crash back onto the bed and then slide to the ground, carpet burning against my knees as I press into him. He snarls and flips us in one clean motion, his wrestling instincts kicking in just as mine do. But, this time, I won't let him settle. I buck and twist underneath him until I find enough leverage to bring my knee to his side.
He grunts and stumbles back, stunned. “You little fucker,” he seethes.
I stagger to my feet with shaky legs but locked on him. “If you want to break me Reuben, you better fucking try harder.”
He charges. I pivot. He barrels into me and we topple back onto his bed. His elbow grazes my temple as we vie for control, but I slip loose again and push him down into the mattress. He catches himself and rolls off the opposite side of the bed.
“You think you’re something now? That someone’s always gonna be there to defend you?”
“Nah. I don’t need him.” I wipe my mouth. “I’ll take you myself.”
Reuben howls at me bitterly, his laugh growing malicious as it fades. “That what this is? You wanna beat me? That’s never gonna fucking happen.” He stalks toward me again, sensing my hesitation. “That’s what I thought. You’re no fucking match. You’re weak. You think a few wins on the mat make you a threat. You don’t know what pain is, boy.”
I square up against him. “Then teach me. Go ahead.”
His eyes flicker. “Don’t tempt me.”
I step in anyway. “Why not? Isn’t that what you said you were gonna do? Scared I might get back up?”
That cracks him open. He lunges so fast that I can’t sidestep him. He sends me stumbling back and trucks me into the wall, my ribs creaking under the weight. His bulk presses down around me. I buck, knee, shove– desperate to get any space again. He swings me down to the ground and straddles me. I wheeze under the weight of his chest as he leans into me, his breath on my face and hips pressing into mine. Then, my dick betrays me with a single throb.
“What’s this, Sutton?” he growls, mocking now. His hips shift against me with a cruel edge. “Getting a little too into this, huh?”
“Get the fuck off me.”
“Really? Still? I thought you were liking it.”
I croak and groan under his weight writhing as exhaustion threatens my bones. My hands falter, tangling in the sweaty hair on his abs. My chest begs for air, but I can’t pull enough to calm down the panic bubbling in my heart. Reuben’s eyes glint with triumph, his grip tightening on my shoulders.
“That’s it, Sutton,” he growls. “Keep squirming. Just shows me you’re breaking.”
My deep breaths fade into shallow, panicked breaths. My body trembles more frantically now, my hands still slipping against his chest and body. Reuben’s sneer fades as he slowly begins to release his grip, his hands sliding to my wrists and pushing my arms over my head. He takes both my hands in one arm now, the other presses into my chest, but the thick bush in his armpit invades my face.
He tracks my eyes and grins evilly. He then presses his sweaty armpit into my face and grips the back of my head with his free hand, pushing me deep into his musk. I gasp.
“Inhale,” he demands. I don’t dare disobey. “Good. That’s what a real man smells like. Lick.” I lick. “Goo-o-o-d boy,” he coos. “See, Sutton? You’re learning your place.”
He pulls away and grabs my jaw with his free hand. “You’re already crumbling, boy, look at you. All flustered, doing what I say without me having to repeat myself.” He shoves his armpit back into my face, the musk overwhelming again as he holds me in it, testing my limits. I whimper, my fingers tightening on his chest. I buck weakly against him, voice raw now but not much above a whisper.
“That’s a good boy,” he mumbles, finally pulling away from me and leaving me on the floor. “Get up,” he orders, kicking lightly at my leg. I stagger to my knees. “It’s time to show the brothers just how weak you are.”
He practically drags me out of the room by my arms. He pushes me downstairs through the kitchen where Gian and Carter are laughing together. They both look up at us, and Carter follows Reuben immediately. Reuben shoves me out the door onto the patio and I stumble down the steps to the backyard.
The evening humidity against my already clammy skin makes it feel like I’m navigating through a soup.
“Yo, Reuben, what the fuck are you doing?” Carter bursts through the door with Gian.
“Teaching this pledge how to behave,” he snarls.
“The fuck you are, Reuben. Leave Cameron alone. What the hell is wrong with you.”
Reuben just smiles and points to the handprint on his cheek. “Tell your boyfriend to keep his fucking hands off me if he doesn’t want to get hurt.”
Carter doesn’t say anything, but Gian does. “You don’t get to hurt him.”
“That’s cute, Giordanozzo, real fuckin’ cute. I’m glad Carter’s teaching you fake valiance.”
“Let him go, Reuben,” Carter’s voice booms.
“Come and make me.”
Carter charges at Reuben, who pushes him down into the grass. Carter tumbles and Gian just stands there for a second, before he does the same. Gian’s chest claps into Reuben’s with a primal crash, sending them both to the ground where Reuben quickly capitalizes, his bulk rolling Gian to his back.
“Not so tough out of water now, boy, are you?” Reuben hisses, climbing off of Gian to meet Carter’s next onslaught.
I stand slowly, unable to regulate my breath or my thoughts. I can’t breathe right. I’m not okay. An overwhelming sense of dread drowns me, and I become frantic. My knees buckle below me, the grass sharp against my soft skin as my flushed cheek slaps the dirt. I can’t breathe right. I look up at Reuben on top of Gian again, holding him down to teach him his place, too. I begin to crawl slowly, my head betraying my muscles and convincing me that I am weak.
My fingernails scrape the dirt as I drag myself forward. Reuben’s voice, Carter’s grunts, they all blur into a dark pounding noise inside my head. My body is a cage now, my hands and feet lead pulling me below the dirt. I can’t breathe.
“You’re not done yet, pussy,” Reuben says. I blink, the dirt stinging my eyes. Reuben’s body redirects me. He grabs my jaw and makes me look over at Carter and Gian, both stunned, but neither seem hurt. “This is what happens when you can’t take the shit you’ve earned for yourself. Other people get dragged into it.”
“That’s enough, boys,” Lachlan’s voice means salvation. “Carter, you know better than to interfere with other big brothers.”
“I’m trying to save him,” Carter argues, brushing the dirt off his t-shirt on his knees.
It’s like Lachlan hears everything but cares about almost nothing. “Maybe,” Lachlan says, lifting Carter back to his feet. “But you don’t get to decide that.”
Lachlan lifts Gian, then me. “And Reuben. Don’t kill the kid. We kinda need him around.”
Reuben disappears somewhere with Lachlan and Carter. Gian follows them inside. I sit for a moment, letting my vision and mind settle enough for it to not tell me I’m gonna die every second.
I carry myself back inside and trudge upstairs to Reuben’s room. He’s not there, and I might as well take advantage of the massive shower if I’m gonna be relegated to his room again like some broken project. I pull my shirt off over my scraped chest, my eyes are red but dry. The water scalds at first, but I don’t move. The water burns me while it washes the dirt from the scrapes on my chest and shoulders. I stand in the water until I can no longer see his eyes when I close mine. The night falls and I squirrel away in the corner of his room. I don’t know why I’m in here, but I just have the feeling like he’s not gonna come around. I feel safe where I am, watching the door but scanning a book locked between my fingers. It’s quiet enough to hear my own breath, my body regulating itself. The pages blur sometimes, but I’m not really reading, just the words as nothing more than letters– shapes which we gave meaning because that’s just how it is, right?
I lose track of time and emerge well after ten. No one’s downstairs, but I can hear voices trailing from down the hallway. I walk. Lachlan’s on the phone in his office, his face is tense but his foot flicks freely.
“I gotta go, sorry,” he says, hanging up quickly. “Come in, Cameron. Close the door.”
I sit in a plush chair in the back corner. “Why didn’t you stop him?”
“That’s not my job.”
“You are the president.”
Lachlan leans back in his chair. “President doesn’t mean puppeteer. You think Reuben listens to me because of a title?”
“You are the only person he respects.”
“That’s because I pick my battles.”
“Then whose was it?”
He scoffs like it’s obvious. “Yours.”
“He’s gonna fucking kill me.”
“He won’t.”
I stare at him. “You don’t know that.”
“I do. If he wanted to, he already would have.”
I go quiet. That answer settles over me like this evil is rooted much further than I first thought.
“He’s testing you. He’s not subtle like we are. In fact I find it quite immoral and unorthodox, but my job isn’t to govern how anyone tests you.”
“That is quite literally your job.”
“No.”
“Why would you put me with him? Why is he my big?”
Lachlan exhales through his nose. “I don’t necessarily assign these. He chose you. All brothers get to select a few candidates, and then exec decides, with more rules and caveats and what have you. I do get ultimate say, but I try not to override often.”
“What?”
“What’s not clear? He knows you, saw your file, your accolades– he’s watched you wrestle and wrestled you. Said your name and I put you down as a candidate.”
“That’s not honorable.”
Lachlan clicks his tongue. “Seems honorable to me.”
“Beating the shit out of someone to see if they’re worthy of your attention is honorable?”
“It is to him,” Lachlan replies, plainly. “And if you’re honest with yourself, some part of you understands that, too. I’m not your big, so you’re not subject to my methods or opinions.”
“I want another big.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“Then change how it works.”
“You don’t get to demand that.”
“He’s dangerous, Lachlan.”
“You knew that, and you still chose this frat. Unless you’re reconsidering." He thumbs a pen. "There was always the chance that he might be a larger part of your life than you thought, and that chance has become a reality. But again, if you’re starting to reconsider–”
“Maybe I am.” The words fall before I can think them through.
“You have known Reuben since early summer and you’re still shocked by him. I can’t make you stay, Cameron. If you want to leave, the door’s not locked.”
“That’s it, then?”
Lachlan folds his hands together. “No one’s begging to stay.”
I nod, fighting the knot in my stomach as it rises to my throat. “This isn’t strength.” I stand
“Nor is leaving.”
I look back at him and walk out the door. My face burns. Carter, Gian, and Reuben are in the kitchen laughing about something together. Why would they be laughing with him after what he did to me? To them?
“Hey, Cameron,” Carter calls out, inviting me over. I don’t turn around. “Cameron?”
I clench my fists by my side and push through the front door into the humid night.
“Cam,” Carter repeats, soft now. “Cam?”
The door seals behind me and I throw my pin into the bush. Let it rust there. The door opens again. Carter follows down the driveway, bare feet on the concrete.
“Cameron,” he murmurs like he’s trying not to spook me. “Wait, please.”
It’s the only thing I know. To run. I’ve done it all my life when things don’t go my way. It’s all I can do when I have no control. I run until I have control. I clamp up, I never speak. I don’t dare look behind me at Carter. It would undo me. Carter’s footsteps slow behind me as I cross onto the road.
“Cameron, please,” his voice breaks, and that breaks me. Is this control? Is this finally what I need? I don’t want this, man. I don’t just want to be someone everyone can bully whenever they want– I don’t want to be beaten and dogged on. I just want my place. But I keep running. I keep running from the spaces I’ve fought hard enough to show I belong in, but I don’t belong in them.
Carter follows me onto the road, falling behind further now. “Cameron. I love you.”
“Carter!” A voice calls from the house. I look back as Carter faces the house. I don’t knowww. Is this right? My face is red, hot, burning me from the inside.
Carter turns back to me, chasing now. I keep walking, but my steps falter. They’re an uneven thing now, imbued with insecurity’s physical consequence. The streetlights cast long shadows that stretch like fingers of hope clawing me back from the darkness of the night. “I’m here for you, Cameron, I am. Look at me.”
Slowly I turn to catch the steadiness in Carter’s eyes. “I can’t deal with him," I grumble.
Lachlan rounds the corner. “Carter. Get back to the house.”
“No,” he shoots.
Lachlan’s jaw tightens. “You don’t get to choose. Go.”
Carter steps back, eyes still on mine. His eyebrows crease. “No, Lachlan. I am the goddamn Vice President and I get to make my own decisions here, too!”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Carter.”
“I have authority, too, and you cannot do anything about it.”
“Inside. Now. Carter.”
“Then treat Cameron fairly.”
Lachlan flicks his phone from his pocket. “I’m calling an executive meeting. Right fucking now. This is unconscionable.”
Carter groans, turning back to me and grabbing my wrist.
“Let me go, Carter.”
“This meeting’s about you, Cameron. Don’t leave.” He hooks his arm around my waist and guides me home.
I sit in Lachlan’s office alone while exec talks in the conference room. Every now and then, I can hear Reuben and Carter’s voices sparring with each other. My hands are clammy and trembling uncontrollably.
The door swings open and Lachlan collects me. “Come on,” he says. I follow him to the room. Lachlan gestures toward the only empty chair next to him. “Sit.”
I obey, heart pounding like a drum in my ears.
“We’re here because Cameron’s situation has become… problematic.” His gaze locks on mine, cold but not unkind. “This isn’t about punishment. Cameron doesn’t feel respected, and we need to find a solution for that.”
“Respect is earned,” Reuben projects.
Carter snaps back. “By beating people up, right?”
The room erupts into murmurs. I press my back against the seat.
“Enough,” Lachlan says. Turning to me, he says, “This is your moment, Cameron. Speak.”
“I just want to be a part of something where it feels like people care about me. Even pretend to. Just to feel like I belong. I’m not asking to be equal but I shouldn’t get beaten up by someone who’s supposed to mentor me.
“You don’t just get brotherhood handed to you,” Reuben exhales.
“I don’t want to get fucking strangled if that’s what having not just ‘having it handed to me’ feels like.”
“Cameron,” Lachlan begins. “What you’re asking for— belonging, it means showing up, being accountable. But it also means how we treat new members. We all went through it. Every single one of us, but there is a line outside of ritual and brotherhood. We were built on tradition, but brotherhood isn’t a weapon.”
Whole lot of nothing from Lachlan again.
Reuben speaks. “You saw his handprint on my cheek, didn’t you, Lachlan?” He points at his cheek like my retaliation was a mandate by God to kill me.
“I did.” Lachlan shifts focus. He writes in his notebook. “I’m proposing an amendment for someone to take Cameron as his little, formally relinquishing Reuben of his position as his big.”
Reuben’s chair creaks as he leans forward. “You’re serious?”
Carter straightens. “I’ll take him.”
“You cannot. You already have Giordanozzo. Plus, first, the amendment has to be sanctioned.”
“Those in favor, say ‘aye.’”
Carter, Mason, and Jaeger respond. Lachlan raises an eyebrow subtly.
“And the nays?” Everyone else raises their hands. “Motion denied.” He writes in his notebook.
“Motion to introduce frameworks for how bigs and littles interact with each other. Ayes?”
No one responds, not even Carter.
“The nays have it.”
Reuben nods approvingly. Lachlan sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “The comportment of each big to his little will remain with the status quo and how each big sees fit. If any behavior becomes overly problematic, we will have another meeting with proper scope. Any closing statements?”
The room falls into a heavy silence. Eyes flick between each other.
“I’m glad democracy works again,” Reuben chuffs. The other boys chuckle at him.
“Meeting adjourned. Everyone’s clear of their responsibilities except for Carter and Reuben. Cameron, you stay as well.”
Everyone rises. Most of the boys file out quickly, murmuring to each other. Mason gives me a small nod as he leaves. Reuben sprawls out with his hands above his head, face smugly illegible. Carter sits.
“Let’s talk about boundaries. Because clearly–” he looks between me and Reuben, “they’re a hot topic.” He shuts his notebook softly and folds his hand on it.
“You let me be his big,” Reuben states.
“I didn’t quite imagine you parading him downstairs just so you could beat him up in the backyard.”
“That wasn’t a beating. That was discipline.”
Carter’s jaw tightens, but Lachlan speaks before he can. “Discipline implies structure and intention, not ego.”
“That is structure and intention.”
“Were you beaten as a child?” Carter interrupts.
“Nah,” Reuben responds evenly. “But I knew the line.”
“And you think breaking someone teaches them where it is?”
Reuben’s lip lifts slightly. “It worked on you.”
“Enough, boys. This isn’t about reliving your past. It’s about whether you are capable of guiding someone in their present, Reuben.”
“I don’t guide gently.”
“And that’s fine. I just don’t want to see it,” Lachlan.
I swallow. “What’s the point of this conversation if it’s okay if you don’t see it?”
Lachlan narrows his eyes. “Because sometimes the best relationships come from the worst situations.”
Carter shakes his head. “Stop trying to be a fucking philosopher when all you do is follow law.”
Lachlan bites his cheek. “Ultimately I run this fraternity how I see fit. If you don’t like that, elect a new president.
“So what,” my eyes flick to Reuben. “You’re allowed to push me until I break so long as everyone’s just looking away?”
“Not breaking, building. Obedient littles get to bond. Defiant ones get pain,” Reuben mutters.
Lachlan nods sidelong at Reuben. Carter seems unhappy with Lachlan’s approval. “That’s bullshit. A big is a mentor.”
“I’m mentoring,” Reuben defends. “I shape the best brothers because they’re the most obedient, and then they become unstoppable and ungovernable.”
“That’s just control,” Carter scoffs.
Reuben leans forward. “Call it what you want. Results speak louder than words.”
“I don’t want that,” I say.
“The quicker you understand that you’re not gonna get everything you want at the beginning, the better it’s gonna be for you,” Reuben chirps.
I cross my arms. “No.”
Reuben smiles, biting his lower lip. “Then you’re gonna be in the same position as you were today.”
Lachlan nods.
Carter shakes his head. “Maybe the problem isn’t Cameron.”
“There is no real problem here,” Lachlan grumbles.
“There’s a way to build loyalty without breaking someone.”
Reuben snorts. “That’s soft. Weak.”
“All right, boys,” Lachlan cuts Carter off. “I’ll check in with Cameron every few days, give him a space to vent–”
“Bullshit,” Reuben interrupts. “The pussy’s just gonna complain about my methods.”
“He can complain,” Lachlan takes the floor back from Reuben, “however, you have your methods and I’ll allow them, just as long as you’re not making theatrics out of it.”
“Then this meeting was pointless,” I shoot.
“Quiet, pledge.” Lachlan shifts his focus to me. “Cameron, you’ll have my ear. Use it wisely. Reuben, you have your methods– fine. But don’t do shit that’s gonna get us shut down. And Carter, stay out of Reuben’s way before I call a judiciary meeting for insubordination.”
Carter’s jaw tightens. “Un-fucking-believable. It’s not insubordination to care about someone being hurt.”
Lachlan straightens and looks back at me as he grabs his notebook and stands. “This isn’t a free-for-all, Cameron, you’ll get your space. Don’t mistake my patience for permission.” He walks to the door and turns back to Carter and Reuben. “And, you two. This fraternity’s legacy depends on the discipline, respect, and elitism that we have maintained since our founding. Keep it that way.”
Sunday morning, I collect a few of my things from my dorm, the weight of yesterday’s meeting still pressing on my chest. The quiet hum of campus feels distant as I navigate back to the upperclassman house.
I walk up the stairs to Reuben waiting with the door open. “Upstairs,” he says. I nod. “You ready to try again?”
I meet his eyes and nod.
“Good.”
I walk slowly upstairs with each step feeling heavier than the last. My legs ache today.
“Sit on the bed.”
I obey. Reuben closes the door and steps directly in front of me.
“Take my shirt off.”
I hesitate. His eyes don’t waver. I reach up and peel the fabric off his massive body.
“Now my shorts.”
My heart pounds as I work the waistband loose, my finger hooking under it and pushing them down around his thighs.
“Good. Since I’ve been so busy with rush, I haven’t had proper time to decompress. You’re gonna help me do that. And– you need to relax. You’re too tense for this to work.”
Reuben reaches down and pulls my hand toward his chest, pressing it against his skin. The heat of him seeps into my palm and I flinch, unsure of what to do.
“Pull my underwear off.”
I hold my breath as I shakily take his waistband and pull it down his thighs. I don’t look at him. He grabs my jaw and makes me look up.
“Get down on the floor. On your knees.”
I slide off the bed, my knees hitting the carpet with a soft thud. I keep my head slightly bowed, but my eyes high enough so I don’t look at his dick in front of my face.
“Suck it.”
I freeze, my hands clutching the carpet for support while Reuben waits impatiently.
“Suck it, boy.”
I lean in and put my tongue on the head of his cock. It slowly begins to fill my mouth as it hardens, the head soon finding its way to the back of my mouth. My eyes water while Reuben puts his hand on the back of my head and pushes me down on him. I gag, and pull off immediately to catch my breath.
“Too much for you, Sutton?” His voice is low but soft, but testing how far he can go before I snap again. “Get back to it.”
I wipe my mouth while I sit on my heels, torn between defiance and the sinking memories that contend any resistance could make this ten times worse.
“I said, get back to it, faggot.” Reuben’s hand clamps on the back of my neck, not hard enough to bruise, but enough for me to flinch and wince from the pressure. I don’t know why my stomach churns so hard, and my mind begs for freedom. I should like having such a big man in front of me.
I lean forward and slowly take his head in my mouth and swirl my tongue around it. He moans lightly, pushing me further down greedily until his shaft lodges most of the way down my throat. It constricts, and I gag, my hands climb his thighs and push against him, but he doesn’t let up. His fingers tighten on my neck and lace through my hair.
“There you go. Learning to take a dick bigger than Carter’s. Tastes better, doesn’t it?”
I don’t reply. He pushes back down my throat and I gag hard this time, my body convulsing as he pushes to the hilt now. His cock fills my throat until I can’t think, can’t breathe. I gag again. My hands claw at his thighs, nails digging into his skin, but it’s like fighting a brick wall. The musk of his bush overwhelms me, a suffocating mix of sweat and pure alpha pheromones that makes my head spin. His full, round balls press against my chin, and my eyes begin to stream, tears mixing with the spit pooling at the edge of my mouth. My chest burns with the need to pull away, but he doesn’t let up.
“That’s a good boy,” he murmurs, voice thick with satisfaction as his fingers tighten through my hair. “See? You’re getting it now. Just gotta learn to open your throat.”
The words cut deeper than the physical weight of him, slicing through my ears into the only part of me that’s trying to hold onto some dignity. My mind is a storm of rage, shame, and the sickening betrayal of my own dick for getting hard under my shorts.
Reuben’s hand loosens just enough for me to pull back, gasping as spit spills down onto my chest. I look down at the ground for a second before Reuben’s hand brings my chin back up.
“Get up,” he commands. I hesitate, my hands still firmly on his thighs while he tugs on my jaw to bring me to my feet.
“Lie down, on your back, head off the end of the bed.”
My legs tremble, and I try to hide the fact that my dick is raging hard right now. My mind screams against the order, but his hand pushes me to the bed and I slide onto it. I hesitate again, on my hands and knees.
“Do it, Sutton. Or I’ll make you.”
My throat tightens as I lay on my back, the world tilting upside down. Reuben steps in, body looming over me as he slaps his dick against my forehead.
“See? You can listen when you want to,” he purrs. “Open your mouth.”
I unlatch my jaw and he slides his dick inside again, mounting me until his hairy ass practically suffocates me. I secure my arms around his thighs as he begins to thrust into my throat, bottoming out slowly, his full sack resting now tightly against my nose. I gag while he puts his weight down on me. He’s suffocating, so damn powerful. He’s too heavy for me to do anything.
“There you go, boy,” he rumbles. He begins slow, his thrusts nudging deeper into me. My body trembles as he leans in, the sweat of his balls and ass invading my nose. I feel like I’m drowning in him. He slips my shorts and underwear down around my thighs. “And you like it, too, I see.”
I squirm under him as he teases my dick with his thumb, pressing evilly into my sensitive head. I moan, but it just turns into a gag which sends a fresh layer of spit covering my face.
“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Hard as a fucking rock.” He thrusts inside again, but this time pushing as far as he can and holding himself deep, his fingers tightening on my nipples until I whimper a weak and pathetic thing. “That’s it, boy. Let it out, Sutton. Let me hear you.”
I’m breaking and I know it. The fight’s draining out of me and being replaced by an insatiable arousal for a man who could literally take anything he wanted. His fingers make my nipples hard, and they make my dick twitch even harder. His thrusts pick up speed and power. The bed groans loudly each time he bottoms out. “You’re mine,” he mutters, over and over. His fingers then dig into my neck while he steadies my face, his wet balls slapping my face and his hairy hole winking at me just above. “You’re taking it so good now, boy.”
I want to scream, to condemn my own body for its arousal, but all I can do is whimper into him, and he loves it. His dick pulses each time he hears me. My chest heaves, more desperate now for air as Reuben’s stopped pulling out far enough for me to breathe. I’m no longer a human to him, just one of his toys. His breathing grows heavier, and his thrusts more erratic to the point that it feels like my throat might burst. “Get ready, Sutton,” he pants, his voice low. “You’re gonna take it all.”
I try to brace myself, but there’s nothing I can do. He thrusts deep, holding himself there as his cock pulses down my throat. He groans a guttural sound that vibrates through me. I gag hard, my body convulsing as I feel ropes of his seed coating my throat right into my stomach. His hands clamp around my neck as he finishes, shot after shot, hot and thick down my throat. I choke, but his seed just keeps flowing. Fuck. How does he cum so much? His body keeps me pinned and finally I can feel his dick beginning to soften. He stays there for a moment, thrusting lightly for my throat to squeeze the remaining cum from his shaft. Finally, he pulls back, letting me gasp for air desperately. Spit and tears coat my face, my throat raw and aching with the taste of the last bit of seed from his head on my tongue.
“Good boy,” he whispers, wiping his dick and balls off in my hair. “Think I’m gonna enjoy you being my little.”
I sit up, slowly, and swing my legs over the side of the bed. My dick aches for release, and I know Reuben sees it.
“Look at you. Still hard,” he laughs a teasing thing. “I knew you were a slut for this.” He flexes his sweaty muscles and my dick jolts just thinking about his power. He walks over to me, and wraps a firm hand around my shaft, his thumb rubbing between my balls. I whimper, struggling to contain myself.
“Fuck, Sutton,” he whispers, dripping with amusement. “You’re practically begging for it.” His grip tightens just enough to make me gasp. My hands grip the sheets, trying to anchor me as he works me slowly.
“Stop, Reuben,” I choke out.
He laughs. “Stop?” His thumb circles my tip, sending another jolt through my body. “You don’t want me to stop. Look at you, leaking like a fucking faucet.” His other hand grabs my chin and he licks along my jawline. “Say you want it, Sutton. Say it.”
“No–” I whimper as he clamps tighter. “Fuck you.”
His eyes narrow, and for a moment I think I’ve pushed him too far again. “Wrong answer, boy,” he growls, pace quickening until I whimper again. “But, you’ll learn to beg properly soon enough.”
Reuben releases me suddenly, stepping back and leaving me a panting mess on the edge of his bed, my dick red and throbbing generously.
“Clean yourself up,” he says, walking into the bathroom, his eyes demanding that I follow.
I stand and pull my bunched shorts up, wincing as the friction passes over my dick. My throat burns, and my face feels sticky. Disgusting. I stumble forward to the bathroom, not because I want to obey him, I just don’t know what else to do when every move feels like surrender.
Reuben stands by the sink, massive back and glorious ass to me while he washes his face. My hand grips the doorframe but I eventually walk into the bathroom and step into the shower. No curtain, just a glass divider at the back of the room that traps me and puts me on display for him. I don’t wait for the water to warm, and I let the shock bring back the light to my eyes. I try to get rid of any evidence of what he did, but it will never actually wash clean. The taste of him lingers, the feel of his hands and his hairy body bucking into mine. The feeling of his tongue on my jaw and his cum in my stomach. It’s there forever.
Reuben eventually joins me in the shower, but I don’t look up at him. “You’re not done,” he mutters, voice softer but still like ice. He grabs his washcloth and hands it to me. “Scrub harder. I don’t want my little looking like a used whore.”
I scrub harder. Until my chest burns and until my face feels raw. I keep my eyes on the swirling water by my feet and my irrefutable erection. He steps even closer, until water splashes off his pecs onto my ribs. “Look at me,” he says. I don’t want to, but my body obeys before my mind can stop. His smirk is cold and triumphant, an assumption that he’s already broken me– and I believe he may have, now, too. He reaches out, hand grazing my shoulder. I flinch. “That’s better. You’re learning, and you’ll be perfect, soon enough.”
He’s so close now I can feel the heat of his body even with the warmth of the water. He takes the washcloth from my hand and hangs it on the rack by the shower. “You’re not clean enough yet,” he mutters. “Turn around.”
My stomach fills with dread. “Reuben, I can’t–”
“You can,” he snips, “and you will. Turn. Around.”
“No,” I whisper, looking down now.
His eyes narrow and he grabs my shoulders, forcing me around and dragging his fingernails down my back closer to my ass. I try to twist out of his grip, but he pulls me into a loose headlock against his body. My dick throbs harder. Fuck.
“Please,” I choke out, my voice breaking and ragged. “Stop.”
“Stop?” He says, his free hand pausing on my hip. “Looks to me like your dick still says keep going.”
His soapy hands move down between my thighs and I gasp, jerking involuntarily as his knuckles brush against my balls. His other hand releases my neck, and it slides down my chest to my nipples. He presses himself against me, and I can feel him getting hard again. My hands press against the tile in front of me as shame creeps up my throat.
He wraps his fingers around my shaft and strokes me fast, and I feel myself slipping. I shake my head, but it gets to a point where I can no longer resist with my own mind. I cry out desperately as my body tenses with epic finality. My hips jerk, dick pulsing in his hand, and my ass rubbing up against his boner. My body trembles as the release rips through me, my own seed coating the tile in front of me. Reuben’s smirk widens, his hand slowing but not stopping until my dick is so sensitive it could make me cry.
“Good boy,” he growls. His hand finally releases me and he turns off the water after rinsing his hands. “Thank me,” he says.
I lean against the glass, my body feeling weak and my head pounding. The words stick to my throat and I just can’t admit it.
“Say it,” he repeats. “Say thank you or we start over.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, the words barely audible
“That’s better,” he coos. “Clean up. I’m going to bed. You should join.” He steps out of the shower, grabbing a towel and drying himself with casual arrogance, deep lines cast across his muscles. I let the wall anchor my weights while I dry my skin off, running it through my hair too few times before just walking into his room.
Reuben lays sprawled on top of the comforter, naked, his massive frame engulfing the mattress. His hands rest behind his head, physique flexing effortlessly covered in thick, damp fur that thickens in his pits, bush, around his ass, and down the center of his abs, such a contrast to my nearly hairless, freckled skin.
“Get over here,” he mutters coolly, patting the bed next to him as he slides under the sheets. My hand grips the edge of the bed as I slowly join him, his hand tugs my wrist until I’m fully beside him. I lie against him, and his thick arm wraps around me, coarse fur scratching my skin.
“You’re learning, Sutton.” His fingers trace circles around my nipples until I’m moaning again, gently. I want to shove him away, but I love his warmth. I want to strangle him, but now I want him to do the same to me again. I hate it– I hate him, I always have, but now I hate myself for giving into him.
His breathing slows, deep and steady, and I realize he’s drifting off. His grip loosens just enough for me to slip loose if I wanted, but I couldn’t dare. I stare at the wall, down to the golden light in the hallway polishing the floor from the gap underneath the door. My body feels so heavy, but soon my eyelids grow to be heavier than everything in this world pulling me down, and I doze off with my body still pressed against his. I’m trapped in the warmth I hate and crave.
