The English Year - 28. The Date

I felt the pulse build up inside of me like a volcano ready to erupt. I did everything in my power to stop it, but by then, I had become powerless.

“Oh fuck,” I sighed.

It was like I was floating above myself. I was torn between wanting the relief of letting myself drain into Lee’s mouth, and wanting the feeling of his mouth around my impossibly hard cock to continue on forever.

But I knew that I couldn’t make it last forever, so I sat up, brought my hands from behind my head, grabbed a fistful of Lee’s hair, and pushed him down on my pulsing dick right before the rush of a powerful, fleeting orgasm overtook every nerve ending on my body.

“Oh fuck,” I felt his tongue vibrate over the head of my dick as he moaned, catching every last drop of my release as it shot deep into his throat.

“Oh fuck!” I screamed again, not worrying about how loud my voice carried or if anyone could hear me on the other side of the wall. I was too consumed by the ecstasy of Lee’s throat milking my cock, too thrilled by how skillfully the freshman drank down the rush of my orgasm, rope after rope after rope.

There was something different about that orgasm, I thought as I watched the eager young Lee guzzle down my cum. There was something about it that heightened the feeling, that set it apart from the hundreds of orgasms I’d felt in the years since I even knew what an orgasm was.

It was every bit as toe-curling, mind numbing, finger pinching as anything I’d felt before. But there was an added pleasure about it that night that I couldn’t put my finger on until I let go of Lee’s head and allowed him to come up for air.

There was a power about me that I’d never exerted on a guy before. After my talk with Lee, I knew that I had him in the palm of my hand, like a mound of silly putty to be formed. I knew I could get that kid to do whatever I asked him to do, and with the promise of one day ruling Chi Beta with my help, I knew that I had struck a chord with Lee that gave me all of the power in our tumultuous relationship.

And knowing that, feeling that, enhanced what easily could have been a simple orgasm and turned it into one of the hottest, most satisfying blow jobs of my entire life.

Still drunk with power, I pulled Lee’s head up to mine, holding him by the back of the neck and pulling him into a rough kiss that transferred what little bit of cum was left in his mouth right into mine.

“Oh god,” he moaned, melting into my body as he joined me on my bed, lying on top of me as I pulled us both back. Our bodies were planked together, and for the first time that night, I let Lee share the feelings that I’d felt since he’d dropped down to his knees in front of me.

Not wanting to relinquish the control just yet, I pushed Lee to my left while climbing on top of him, turning us both so that I was grinding on top of him, my still hard and sticky cock rubbing against the front flap of his jeans. In that position, I felt every inch of Lee’s boner, throbbing impossibly against the denim that held it in. Every time my dick rubbed against his, I felt his body pulse upwards into mine. I knew he wanted to let his cock out to play. I knew that he was impossibly hard, and that the feeling of my bare cock next to his was making his impossible hardness even harder. I knew how it felt to want to let your dick out at any cost, just for some relief, and knowing how badly I was torturing Lee by grinding against him made me want to continue that special brand of torture just a little bit longer.

I felt him slide his hands between our bodies, working them towards his beltline, hoping to free his own and stroke some relief out of it. I let go of his head, brought my hand to his wrist and stopped him just before he was able to undo his button.

“Not yet,” I whispered. I had all but recovered from the afterglow of cumming just a few minutes earlier, and the power that came with not allowing Lee to cum made me that much hornier. I was a man possessed, intoxicated by control, and I wanted to hang on to that intoxication for as long as possible.

I grabbed Lee’s wrists and lifted his hands above his head, resting them on my pillow behind him. I smiled a wicked smile down at him before diving in for a long, drawn out kiss. He moaned in my mouth, and I knew I had him.

With my hands still holding his wrists, I kissed my way down Lee’s neck, biting ever so slightly, and eliciting little moans the entire way down. I could tell by how his body squirmed that he loved what I was doing in a way that tortured him.

By the time I made it down to his torso, I let go of his hands, looked at him and smiled.

“No touching,” I commanded softly. There was so much power in my whisper that I even surprised myself by how commanding I sounded with little more than a breath. Lee sighed as I brought my hand to the top of his beltline and gently pulled at his buckle. Without breaking eye contact, I opened the flap of his jeans and fished out his impossibly hard cock.

I can’t remember ever feeling a cock that desperately hard. I didn’t want to touch it for fear of making him cum too soon. I’d already finished once, and I knew that I was a solid few minutes away from being able to cum again, and so I wanted Lee to last as long as possible. Instead of going straight in for the head of his dick, I decided to tease him by licking up and down the shaft slowly with just the tip of my tongue.

His back arched completely off my bed as he squirmed beneath me, keeping his hands pressed against the wall behind him.

“Oh fuck,” he sighed. “Oh god. Oh fucking… oh fucking god.”

His words were almost incoherent.

“That feels… oh god!”

I grasped the base of his dick and sat back for a second, giving him a chance to come back down before I brought him too close to the edge. By now, I was kneeling on the floor between Lee’s spread legs, and I made the decision that it wasn’t his cock that I wanted more than anything. I pushed his thighs apart and upwards while pulling him to the edge of the bed. With my tongue still outstretched from licking Lee’s cock, I dove into the little pink button that was right in front of me, penetrating Lee’s ass with my tongue.

That was all it took. He melted under my touch as his moans got louder and his body writhed up and down. I held on to his dick firmly, not wanting to risk him getting a hold of it. Two jacks and I knew that the kid would Old Faithful all over himself, and so I maintained control of the situation, rimming Lee while keeping him from cumming.

Edging someone takes a considerable amount of discipline, I decided that night. Every time I thought Lee was going to explode, my instinct was to stick my tongue further into his ass, slide it across his prostate and stimulate his sphincter until he orgasmed. But wanting to keep him at bay for as long as possible, I had to force myself to pull back, take a deep breath and wait for his orgasm to subside before diving back in.

I did this at least a dozen times.

“Please… please… oh god, Corbin. I want to cum so bad. I need to cum…” I could hear a desperation in his voice that fueled my growing fire. Nothing felt as good as hearing Lee beg me to let him finish. And so I kept edging him out so that I’d hear those words again.

Finally, I brought myself back up to the bed, kissed Lee and let him taste himself on my tongue.

“You want to cum?” I asked seductively, my eyes wide and my mouth turned upwards.

“Yes, please,” Lee panted. He had formed a thin layer of sweat across his brow.

“Then cum,” I said as if he’d had the option all along. I let go of the base of his cock, slid back down into my kneeling position, kissed the head of his dick, and then swallowed about half of his cock. Lee’s dick was as hard as a rock, throbbing in my mouth, and even if I’d wanted to fit the whole thing in my mouth, I knew there was absolutely no way that I could. I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock, and even though I was in a decidedly submissive position, I knew I had all the power in the world.

I decided it was time to take Lee out of his passionate misery. I sucked in deep, kissed the tip of his cock, and a second later felt the warm rush of his seed coat the top and back of my mouth.

Lee’s cum was sweeter than I remembered. The taste was very mild, but the rush of cum was anything but. My mouth was instantly full, and unable to swallow his cum fast enough, I sat up from his dick and took the last three shots straight to the face.

There’s normally something demeaning about having cum on your face. It normally signifies being the weaker, or more passive of two lovers. Some guys love it, and usually when I’m with someone I don’t mind giving the reigns to, I love it too. But that night, I wanted to maintain my control over Lee, and so having his cum on my face felt like I had ceded that control over just a bit. Instead of backing down, I climbed onto the bed, leaned over Lee, and pulled him around so that he was lying on top of me as I lay on my back.

“Lick it off,” I said softly, my voice still in complete control. I could see the question in his eyes. I wouldn’t have wanted to lick my own cum off of someone’s chin either, but I turned my head, giving him little to no choice. A second later, I felt his warm tongue glide up my cheek, devouring the streak of cum he’d shot on my face.

Lee and I made out again, swapping each other’s taste between us. It felt good to lay in bed with someone without worrying about what it meant, or what feelings we had between each other. He’d verbalized the arrangement, and I was on board for it as well. I could have gone a month or even a year without having another taste of Lee and I would have been fine, and that night, that kind of detached human interaction was exactly what I needed.

“So what happens now?” Lee asked after we’d exhausted our makeout session. I watched him pull his pants on as I slipped under my bedsheet.

“What do you mean?” I yawned.

“What happens now with rush? I feel like Hutch is kind of pissed at me for ignoring him and telling him I was keeping my options open. How do I get back on the rush list without looking like a chump?”

I thought for a second. For this all to work, I needed Lee to trust me completely. I needed him to think that I was doing him a favor by getting him back in the good graces of the brotherhood. He needed to be indebted to me, and so he needed to not know that Hutch still had a mile long rush boner for him.

“Leave that to me,” I said, turning my head towards Lee. “I’ll talk to Hutch for you. Just make plans to hang out here tomorrow night.”

“Okay, cool,” Lee replied. I could tell that he was eager to be back as a Chi Beta potential, which meant I needed to act quickly and precisely.

It was a delicate balance, what I was trying to do. I needed to curate very carefully the next interaction between Lee and the other brothers who were rushing him. If Lee got an invitation from Hutch, he would know that I wasn’t integrally involved in bringing him back into the guy’s good graces. If Lee reached out to Hutch himself, then I wouldn’t be able to leverage my involvement in bringing Lee back into the fold. If I wanted to reap the maximum benefits of this plan, I needed to be the broker that repaired the relationship between Chi Beta and Lee Dornan, and so the next morning I made sure to ‘run in to’ Hutch on his way to the Colonnade for his first class.

“A lot of studying to do?” I asked casually as we walked to campus together.

“A ton. And with Christmas Weekend starting tonight, I’m not going to get any shit done until Monday.”

“Yeah, speaking of tonight, have you heard anything from Lee yet?” I asked nonchalantly, almost as if I was asking Hutch what he’d had for breakfast.

“No, not yet. Have you talked to him?”

“Yeah, I did actually.”

“And?” Hutched turned and looked at me. I had to force myself not to smile as I worked the clutch of my plan.

“Oh, I mean, he just wasn’t sure if Chi Beta was for him and so he was spending some time looking elsewhere.”

“And?” I could tell that Hutch’s blood pressure had risen at least ten points in the last ten seconds.

“I convinced him that he was making a mistake. I laid it all out there for him, and I think he got the message that this is the best Greek experience he’s going to get, all things considered.”

I let my explanation simmer, just vague enough that Hutch could fill in the blanks, but specific enough that my involvement in changing Lee’s mind was unmistakable.

“So… we’ve got him?”

“He’s ours to lose,” I said casually. “But listen, guys like Lee, I know the type. He needs a lighter touch. He needs to feel like he’s got to earn it, not that we’re handing him a bid, you know? He mentioned that he didn’t think it would be much of a risk venturing out because he knew he had a bid coming from us. I think that we should ice him a little bit so that he feels like he needs to earn it again.”

“I don’t have time for psychoanalytical mind games, Corbin.”

“Trust me, I told you I would get Lee, and I’m working on it,” I said, for the first time putting some muscle behind my voice. The last thing I needed was Hutch texting Lee and inviting him back to the house before I had a chance to prove to Lee that I could manipulate his bid situation. In order for me to hold all of the cards in my hand, I needed Lee to go through me.

“At least he’s back to being interested, I guess,” Hutch said, playing into my plan. “Any chance he’ll come to decorate the tree with us tonight?”

It was an old Chi Beta tradition that the Wednesday before all of the Christmas Weekend events began, the brothers and rushees decorated our Christmas tree with Natty Light cans that we drank that night.

“I’ll see if I can get him there,” I told my pledge brother as we approached the English building and I prepared to say bye to him. “But, Hutch I’m serious. Light touch. Let me handle this.”

Hutch nodded, and I took a deep breath. I had Hutch convinced that I was the key to bringing the golden child back in, but I still needed to work quickly to convince Lee that I was his ticket before Hutch caved and got a hold of him.

During my first class that day, I decided to text Lee and make sure that the two of us were still on the same page.

To Lee: Put any thought into our conversation last night?

From Lee: I don’t remember us doing much talking…

He sent a smiley face right after that, and I felt the slightest rumble in my crotch. I pushed any sort of sexual thoughts about Lee aside. I’d scratched that itch already. It was time to move on to business.

To Lee: Listen, I convinced the brothers that you didn’t go rogue and that you just need a little pampering to solidify your choice.

From Lee: What do I need to do? I don’t want to screw this up, Corbin.

To Lee: You won’t. What did I tell you a couple weeks ago? I’m the one who you need to go through to get a bid… just come by the house tonight around eight. We’re decorating our Christmas tree.

From Lee: Do you think Hutch will be pissed I haven’t responded to his texts in a couple weeks?

I read the text message and decided not to answer. I put my phone away, raised my hand, and answered the professor’s question about the use of phallic imagery in the Secret History.

I waited to text Lee back until after lunch. I wanted him to sweat a little bit, and based on his series of text messages that I didn’t answer, I could tell that he was starting to squirm.

To Corbin: Should I text Hutch and ask him what’s going on?

To Corbin: Hutch hasn’t texted me about any plans tonight. Maybe I’m not invited.

I stopped myself from panicking. I had a gut feeling that Lee wouldn’t text Hutch after I told him to lay low. And I knew that Hutch wouldn’t text Lee after I told him to proceed with a light touch. As I walked to lunch at the house, I decided it was time to take credit for all the work I’d done in bringing back our gold star rushee.

It was noon when I got back to the house and I hadn’t responded to three of Lee’s texts, none since before my ten o’clock class ended. I walked into the house and immediately went downstairs to the dining room.

“What is going on here? Sorority lunch was cancelled?” Newby asked when the guys saw me walk down the stairs and to the buffet table. Three of the guys from my class, including Hutch, were seated with Newby and Cherry from the sophomore class.

“I thought I’d keep it simple today. And let’s see what’s for lunch…” Our cook had served up little round individual pizzas that I was sure tasted as bland and textureless as they appeared. “Frozen pizza. Yummy.”

“A Leon delicacy,” Brian said from the table. I put a round of pizza on my plate and some mixed greens masquerading as a salad. I dumped ranch dressing over the sad looking plate and sat down across from Hutch.

“Have you heard from Lee today?” I asked, my voice lower than the general conversation going on beside us.

“No. Have you talked to him?”

“Yeah. I told him to come over tonight. He’s pretending like he has something else to do.”

“I’m gonna text him,” Hutch said, reaching for his phone.

“Don’t, I’ve got this,” I said, my eyes wide and earnest. I could tell that Hutch didn’t believe that I could actually deliver Lee, and by playing at how difficult of a time I was having, I might have pushed him a little too far. I softened my face and tried to correct my move. “Look, you said you’d give me a chance, right? I’ll get him to come over tonight, and when I do, you can talk to Dominick about honoring your half of our deal.”

My voice was low, even, and unaffected. I needed Hutch to believe me, and reading his face, I could see that he did. I decided to add in a guarantee just for good measure.

“If I can’t get him over tonight, then you can push the panic button and do whatever you want.”

With that, I forced a bite of pizza into my mouth, and joined the conversation with the rest of the table. I finished my lunch, trying not to feel too smug, and went up to my room for what I considered a very well-earned nap. Before I dozed off, I pulled out my phone and texted Lee.

To Lee: Be here at eight tonight. Sharp. I talked to Hutch for you. No need to make a big deal about coming back.

I waited for a response, and when none came any faster than my REM cycle, I dozed off and waited until later that afternoon.

I woke up from my nap to a text message from Hutch saying that he was taking some of the rushees to dinner in town, and that I could come if I wanted to. I smiled at the first rush invitation I’d received so far that school year, and I knew it was because of the ‘effort’ I was putting forth with Lee. The little bit of cooperation I’d shown towards Hutch and the rush committee had me in their good graces, and I knew it was a matter of time before the officers took notice.

I took a long hot shower, anticipating exactly how that night could go. It was like a Jenga set, the scenario I had put together for that evening. If everything went according to plan, I would come out looking like the hero from Hutch’s perspective and looking like the puppet master in Lee’s eyes. With those two accomplishments, I would be able to gain the trust of the entire freshmen class—granted I helped Lee gain the influence of his peers—and I’d earn my way back into my social chair position.

But a couple of things could happen to derail all of my well laid plans. If Lee let it slip that I was the reason he stopped frequenting Chi Beta to begin with, I’d be screwed. Not only would Hutch see right through what I’d done in bringing Lee back, but he’d blame me for sabotaging his rush to begin with. If Lee got the idea from Hutch that he’d been a lock this whole time, even without my brokering them back together, my influence over him would fall apart. I needed Lee to believe that I could make or break him, and so far he did. I needed Hutch to think I was the key to Lee’s coming back, and as of that afternoon, I was pretty sure he was convinced.

And so later that night, after my long nap followed by a long shower, I shook all of my anxiety out of my overgrown frat flip, put on my best chino pants and polo shirt, and waltzed into the beer pong room as if I owned the entire fraternity house.

The room was already full of about a half dozen brothers and four freshmen. I looked in the corner where the collection of Natty cans was building modestly. In a few short hours, those empty cans would decorate the empty tree that the seniors had erected downstairs in The Great Hall.

“You want on the table, Corbin?” Brian asked as he and Hutch set up their side. “I don’t think anyone has called next.”

They were getting ready to play a couple of the freshmen that I wasn’t particularly involved in rushing. I looked at my watch. It was ten till eight, and I thought the timing couldn’t better.

“Yeah, I’ll take next,” I answered while I sent Lee a quick text telling him that I was putting us up on the beiruit list.

“Do you have a partner?” Hutch asked. I could tell by his tone that he expected all brothers to play with freshman that day. I smiled at him.

“I do have a partner,” I replied, looking back at my phone. Lee had texted that he was finishing getting ready at Steph’s and then he’d be walking over. I asked him if Steph was coming with him and he said no, she was staying in to study. He followed that by a winking face, and I shook my head. Last night had been about fun; tonight was about business.

“Who are you playing with?” Brian asked, placing the two water cups on either side of the table.

“I’ll let you know when he gets here,” I replied, tilting my head back. They needed to relax, I thought. I’d be playing with a freshman. I was doing my part for rush, and soon they’d see just how involved my part was.

I watched Brian and Hutch dismantle the freshman team of Brandon and Artie, the younger brother of one of our seniors. Those two, as well as David Marcossi and Kent, who were hanging out on the couch talking to a couple of sophomores, were the four nucleus members of the pledge class.

“Corbin, buddy, you’re up,” Brandon told me, seceding their half of the table. They’d lost by about four cups, and were circling to the other side to drink what they owed. I stood up slowly and began arranging the ten cups that had been knocked out in a triangle formation. I looked at the watch on my phone and saw that it was 8:02.

“You sure you have a partner?” Hutch asked. I could sense the agitation in his voice. He probably thought I had the Brit coming to play with me.

“I do,” I answered. “Don’t worry about it.”

I cracked open one can of Natty Light and began pouring half of my cups. I had been taught since my freshman year that it was bad luck for one member of the team to pour out both cans of beer, and so I poured slowly, put my can down, and then waited.

“Are you ready?”

“My partner is on his way,” I answered. I swallowed, starting to panic just a little. I looked at my phone again. I had every confidence that Lee would be there, and that I would be crowned king of rush when he walked in. I looked from my phone to the door, thinking of a way to stall.

“If you don’t have a partner, Corbin, I can sub in,” David Marcossi said, leaning forward and putting his wrists on his knees. He was drinking out of a red solo cup, and I couldn’t tell if it was a beer he’d poured in or a mixed drink he’d procured from a brother.

“That’s cool,” I said. “I told Lee I’d save him a spot on the table, so.”

“Lee?” David asked, his voice surprised. He must have remembered the conversation I’d had with him about picking his pledge brothers wisely. “I didn’t know he was still…”

“Still what?” I asked, looking from David to Hutch.

“I dunno. I thought he was rushing elsewhere, I guess.”

“Maybe he’s had a change of heart,” I shrugged. I reached in to my pocket to look at my phone one more time, trying not to panic that that kid still hadn’t arrived when, as if I’d timed it myself, the door opened, and Lee walked in.

He smiled sheepishly at the brothers across the table.

“Hey guys,” he said awkwardly. I smiled at Hutch and cocked an eyebrow. Mission accomplished, I thought.

“Hey, come on in. We were just getting ready to start our game,” I said. Lee walked in and stood next to me.

“Good to see you, buddy,” Hutch said. Lee nodded, took the white ping pong ball out of the water cup, and got ready to shoot. As the game began, I noticed a lingering look from Hutch, and I couldn’t quite make it out. I put it in the back of my mind, and focused on the game.

We went down early, and honestly, I thought Lee and I would be one and done. The other team was down to only three cups and their last re-rack, which they used to get a Stoplight formation. We had just gone into our first re-rack, and I knew that if we didn’t get balls back on our next shot, we were pretty much screwed.

“Come on, killer,” I whispered to Lee. He looked down at me and smiled.

“We’ve got this.”

I shot my ball and it bounced off one cup. Hutch went to swat at it, but it ricocheted into a cup on the back line. Before the other team could recover from their defensive stance, Lee shot his ball over, bounced off the table and landed the first cup in our triangle.

“That’s two!” he shouted, sticking his hands straight up in the air and revealing just a sliver of sexy skin above his belt line.

“And balls back!” I added, staying focused. With that one play, we clawed our way back in to the game. I missed my next shot, but Lee got his, tying us up and forcing our next re-rack.

With that, the pressure of the game intensified. Hutch had been on a winning streak with his partner, but Lee and I saw blood. We both hit our cups the next go round, leaving us with one to shoot and the other team with two. Brian made a cup, and my high deflated as I saw Lee’s and my chances start to dismantle. Hutch bricked his shot, and I told Lee that if either of us hit the last cup, it was over.

Lee went first and bricked the rim of the cup. He put his hands over his face.

“Fuck!” he reacted.

“It’s alright, I’ve got this,” I thought, wanting to make the cup and wipe the smug look of Hutch’s face once and for all. It would have been my second victory of the night to beat him.

I pulled my arm up and decided to go for the laser beam shot instead of the high rainbow. With swift trajectory, I shot my ball across the table, aiming for the back of the solo cup. It hit the inside of the rim, bounced in, and the sheer force of my shot knocked the cup back and off the table.

“We won!” I shouted. I turned to Lee and instinctively gave him a hug. We both jumped up and down from our comeback.

“You dickweed, you got my khaki’s all fucking wet,” Brian complained as he picked their last cup from the ground. Hutch had already circled over to drink the beer they’d left on our side of the table.

“Good game, bitch,” he sneered as Lee and I celebrated. I watched as David Marcossi got up to set up the other side of the table, and I assumed we’d be playing him and whoever his partner was.

“Hey, Corbin, let’s clean out these water cups real fast,” Hutch said to me once Lee and I had let go of each other and were getting ready to reset the table.

“Okay,” I answered skeptically. The water cups weren’t that dirty, but I picked up the one on the far end of the table as well as the one I’d been using and followed Hutch into the bathroom across the hall.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on in there?” he asked, throwing me off guard as I threw the dirty water into the sink.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you and Lee all of a sudden being best friends now. That kid wasn’t answering a single text message for two weeks and now he’s back and all buddy-buddy with you. Something isn’t right.”

I cocked my eyebrow at him, flicked on the cold water and drizzled the faucet into the Solo cup.

“I talked to him like you asked me to,” I answered, curbing my voice so that it was just shy of defensive. “Was I not supposed to convince him to come back here?”

“It isn’t that,” Hutch said. His eyes were narrow as if he was trying to piece things together. “It’s just… it’s too neat, you delivering him with a neat little bow. What do you have going on?”

“I take great offense to that,” I replied. I didn’t want to oversell anything, but I couldn’t let Hutch put too many of the pieces together. I took a deep breath and tried to decide on a course of action.

“Did you bribe him with something? Threaten him?”

I laughed.

“Don’t laugh at me, Corbin. I know how you operate.”

“I didn’t bribe him or threaten him. What is this, the Mafia? Get a fucking grip.”

“It just doesn’t add up.” Hutch wasn’t relenting, and so I decided to go nuclear on him.

“You want to know what I told him? You really want to know?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Okay. I told him that I didn’t want him here. I told him that if I had my way, he wouldn’t receive a bid to Chi Beta and that I thought the house would be better off for it.”

I watched Hutch’s face drop. He swallowed as if he’d just been told his puppy had run away.

“And then I told him that it wasn’t up to me and that fraternity was bigger than one person. I told him that he must have meant a lot to this house for me of all people to be sent to talk to him, and that I agreed to do it because of how much respect I have for the institution of fraternity, and because of how much I care about this house. I told him that if he wanted to look elsewhere to find a better fit for himself, that was fine, but that not too many houses would send the one guy who was against him bidding to make a last ditch effort to try and win him back. I asked him how many houses followed up with him when he didn’t show up to an event… I told him to think about that for a second, and then to stop acting like a baby back bitch with a million options, and to get his ass over here tonight to be my partner for beer pong. I told him that because you asked me to, and I meant it, so… are you going to keep accusing me of being up to something sketchy or can I take my water cups and continue kicking ass on that beiruit table?”

Hutch swallowed and I could tell I’d gotten through to him. I sighed on the inside.

“You can go back,” he replied, his voice lower and void of any accusation.

“Good. And don’t forget that you owe me now. He’s a lock, so… you’re welcome. Tell the officers.”

“Absolutely.”

I stepped out of the bathroom, my hands full with the two water cups, and my head and attitude riding high.

When I got back to the beiruit room, Lee had already set up the cups for the next game, and this time around we rolled passed the all freshmen team that challenged us. In all, we won four games in a row before we retired our spot on the table, went downstairs, and helped the seniors dress the tree with empty beer cans.

I tried my best to keep a low profile in The Great Hall. I didn’t want Dom to question my motives for being active and present in decorating the tree, but I also wanted to show a vote of solidarity after bringing Lee back into the mix. I didn’t expect that Hutch had talked to anyone already that night, and so I kept a light, cool attitude, and helped decorate the tree without causing a stir.

I woke up the next morning with the kind of headache that only Advil and blue Gatorade can cure. I had a couple of classes that Thursday, but with Christmas weekend in full swing, most teachers turned a blind eye if you chose to use your excused absence on that Thursday or Friday. I seriously considered not going in to class, but I figured schlepping around campus and showing my professors I was making an effort this late in the semester could possibly go along way once grading began.

Instead of paying attention to any of the last minute knowledge that my professors attempted to impart, I spent the morning texting some of my girl friends to see if anyone needed an escort for the Christmas weekend festivities. My go-to girls, Ellie and Alexandria, both had dates, as did Hannah Allison, and Danielle Smart, a girl I’d taken to Chi Beta functions before. I couldn’t text Amanda as per our recent falling out, and so after two hours, two lectures, and six failed attempts, I decided that I would be spending that Christmas Weekend stag.

It was far from the end of the world, as I had other things to focus on that weekend than making sure a bearded date was having fun. Still, the topic of conversation came up at lunch when I met Pete at the steps of the dining hall.

“Well if a guy like you doesn’t have a date, there’s no hope for the rest of us,” he commented as we rounded the corner and handed Vera our swipe cards.

“Yeah well, that’s what happens when you wait until Thursday to even think about asking a girl. All the good ones are taken, and I’m sure as shit not taking a scrub,” I said. I followed Pete over to the warm food station and served myself some penne pasta in an ambiguous cream sauce. I followed Pete to the salad station where we made a show about putting some form of fresh greens on our plates before getting a booth in the back corner of the dining hall.

“Do you even have any plans for the weekend?” I asked Pete, turning the attention to him and wondering how he intended to spend his first Christmas Weekend on US soil.

“I got a couple invitations in the mail,” he replied, forking his pasta and looking up at me. “Honestly, I’m not sure what to make of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not like I’m rushing a fraternity or like I’m a big draw or anything,” he said, tilting his head down.

“Where’d you get invited to?”

“Kappa Sig, Lambda, Sigma Chi, and boy Pi Phi,” he replied, putting his fork down and looking up to try and remember. “I think that’s it. Oh, and SNU, but… really. It’s SNU.”

“Yeah, they invite everyone to their good old fashioned piano and eggnog jamboree,” I said, somewhat bitchily. The truth was, when I was a freshman, I had already been banned from SNU by the time Christmas Weekend rolled around and had to use the one bridge I hadn’t burned within the fraternity to score an invitation to the jamboree. I was still somewhat bitter.

“But yeah. Not sure what I’ll do or why those places even invited me. They all seem pretty exclusive from what I know, no?”

“Oh, yeah,” I concurred. “Especially Kappa Sig and Sigma Chi. Honestly, not to bust your chops or anything, but you probably got those invites because you took Tamia to Homecoming, and ya’ll went to those events, right?”

“Yeah, I forgot about that.”

“And some places like to rush internationals for their social member roster.”

“Social member?”

“Yeah. Basically, an international student that’s just here for a year or two who can pay their dues, but doesn’t have to rush. They get to use you as a novelty, you know? Most international students party hard anyway, so they don’t mind being made a token out of.”

“Sounds pretty degrading. Like I’d be a token, or something,” Pete said, putting his fork down and looking at me.

“Are you serious? It’s fucking awesome. You get all of the perks of being in the house, access to all of the parties, and you don’t have to give one rat’s ass about rush or chapter, or anything.”

“Sounds like you’re paying a couple thousand dollars just to have friends for a semester.”

“What do you think a fraternity is?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. I was being partially sarcastic, but mostly serious. My recent few weeks at Chi Beta had jaded me, and even though I was in the process of making amends, I had seen what fraternity was really about, and there was no un-seeing that.

“We both know that a guy like you couldn’t sit in the corner and be a social member anywhere. They’d throw you to the wolves, and you come back leading the pack,” Pete said. I took it as a compliment, especially because he’d put his fork down and looked me right in the eye as he said it.

“You know what?” Pete startled me, picking up his fork, breaking our eye contact, and going back to his pasta lunch. “Screw finding dates. Why don’t you and I just spend Christmas Weekend together?”

“What?” I was taken aback by his suggestion. In a split second, I tried my best to decode exactly what, and how, he was asking. It would have been impossible to analyze the situation right then and there, while Pete was sitting in front of me, and so I made a mental note to revisit the implications of his invitation later, when I was alone. For now, I simply listened to him explain himself.

“Yeah. I mean, there’s no way you want to spend two full days in your house schmoozing freshmen, right? Even for the best of the them, come on, that’s miserable. And I really don’t feel like navigating the world of elite social circles without someone who knows how to play the game. Even if I put out a… I don’t know… a Craig’s List ad at this point, I have no hope of finding an actual date. Why don’t you come with me to some of these functions, and then we can dance the night away at Late Night.”

I wasn’t sure if Pete remembered the last time we spent the night dancing away at Chi Beta late night, but I did, and I didn’t want to revisit that level of ambiguity between us.

“What are you asking me?” I asked, wanting a concise and specific answer.

“Come with me to Christmas Weekend,” Pete replied. “It’ll be fun.”

Famous last words, I thought.

“As in, a date?” I asked, allowing my tongue to linger into a cheeky smile. I couldn’t help but feel a butterfly in my stomach as I asked the question. I needed to know before I allowed my dopamine levels to spike whether or not Pete was asking me as his date, or as a friend out of convenience. Either way, it was a big step for us in repairing our friendship, but if it meant more… I couldn’t help but wonder.

“Call it what you want, Mr. Crowley. But come Friday night, I will be coming to Chi Beta in my best suit, picking you up, and rescuing you from the doldrums…”

“Oh! The doldrums!” I laughed.

“…Of upperclassmen fraternity obligation.”

“I feel like I’m signing up to be your arm candy.”

“Only the best on campus,” Pete joked, smiling his million Euro British smile and melting my heart like a school girl’s.

“He said what?” Roberto asked later that night as we sat around my room in different ugly green and red sweaters, pregaming for Christmas in the Country, the unofficial kickoff to Christmas Weekend.

The party was massive, and every year the three center river houses came together to throw a huge bonfire by the water. Anyone who was anyone was there, waiting in line at River 3 for hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps, or crowding around one of the kegs close to the fire. It was an especially big party for upperclassmen because, being held on Thursday, the normal sober ride bus system that took freshmen from the dorms to the country houses wasn’t running, meaning that you had to have connections to finagle a sober ride. Most houses didn’t mind carting their choice freshmen rushees to the party, but the hoards of obnoxious underclassmen that usually peppered the party hill during was greatly curbed at Christmas in the Country.

“He asked if I wanted to be his date,” I answered, still reeling from my conversation with Pete.

“Date like how?” Austin asked.

“Date like date,” I said, turning my head and opening my eyes wide.

“Are you sure he wasn’t asking you as a friend? I mean, what were his other options?”

“His options were not sleeping in the same bed as me over Thanksgiving. His options were not telling me that he wanted to go back to the way things were. His options were of asking anyone, literally anyone on campus, before asking me to be his date.”

There was a long silence as my pledge brothers took in what I said. Hutch broke the silence with his undying brand of blunt sarcasm.

“I still think we need to consider his definition of the word date.”

The question had played in my mind all day since lunch. What had he meant by asking me to be with him during Christmas Weekend? What were Pete’s expectations? I needed to know what they were before I allowed myself to hype up my own. The last thing I wanted to do was read too much into his invitation and end up staring disappointment right in the face, yet again.

But then, with all things considered, it was hard for me to imagine he didn’t mean it as a date, date. After the conversation we’d shared at Thanksgiving, me laying my expectations out there and Pete knowing exactly what I wanted from him… why would he revert back to sending mixed messages? It didn’t make sense, and yet, I was determined to hedge my heart and not expect too much.

The conversation shifted from me and my non-date date to Hutch and the freshman girl that he’d started seeing during O-week and was now officially taking as his date to Christmas Weekend. Annoyed by the differences in my and Hutch’s dating lives, I continued to drink until Newby agreed to drive the five of us out to River 3.

When we got to the River houses, the party was already jumping. The air was crisp but not cold, probably because I was well buzzed and wasn’t feeling any pain at that point. Still, I led the guys inside to try and find a familiar face that could get us some famous hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps.

I spotted Nick Persons across the kitchen counter turned bar and made eye contact. He was wearing nothing but a pair of red boxer briefs and a Santa hat, and for a brief moment, my mind went away from my impending non-date with my perennial non-boyfriend, and all I could focus on was Nick’s million dollar smile and light brown eyes.

“Let’s go get some schnapps,” I shouted over T.I. and Rihanna playing over the speaker.

I waded through the crowd until I was across the bar from Nick.

“What does a guy have to do to get a hot chocolate around here?” I asked, my tongue flirtatiously planted in my cheek. I gave Nick my best smile.

“Depends, Crowley. Have you been naughty or have you been nice?” Nick asked. I flipped my hair back.

“Why don’t you take a guess…”

“Something tells me your idea of nice is still pretty naughty,” Nick surmised. I laughed out loud and could feel Roberto rolling his eyes at how blatantly I stood there and flirted with the Sigma Chi.

“Can I get some hot chocolate and schnapps for my friends too?” I asked. A minute later, Nick handed me four steaming cups of spiked hot cocoa. I was about to ask him where my cup was, when he handed me a frothing mug that read Christmas in the Country 2008, and was topped with whipped cream and shaved peppermint sprinkles.

“And a very special one for you,” Nick said.

“Wow,” I said. “Mine comes with cream.” I licked the top of the whipped cream mountain without breaking eye contact with Nick, who gave me a wicked look as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.

“I thought you were excited for your date tomorrow,” Austin said when we found a quiet corner away from the dance floor to regroup and acclimate to our surroundings.

“I am,” I replied.

“Then why are you eye fucking Nick Persons?” Roberto finished Austin’s thought.

“Nothing is happening there,” I answered. “Nick and I are like that all the time.”

“Keep your head in the game, my friend,” Hutch patted me on the back. “If you want to bag a Brit, you can’t get distracted by a casual yankee.” Hutch raised his eyebrow at me.

“Whatever,” I replied, shaking off what they’d said. I’d been flirting with Nick Persons for years and nothing ever came of that. I doubted anything would after I made out with his older brother. Nick was a friendly guy, and my connection to the upper echelon of parties at OD. Having him be nice to me was a perk, but I didn’t for a second think it would lead to anything.

The rest of the night was a blur. I spent some time catching up with the members of my marketing term project group, lamenting how we really should have been studying for the term exam before the final.

“Fuck that,” I remember telling one of my group partners. “It’s Christmas Weekend, bitch! That exam is a Monday problem.”

At one point, I was cornered by a girl named Ashley Sanders, a Chi O who I’d spent copious amounts of time bashing her house with. She was the rebel of the sorority, admittedly only let in because her sister was a legacy and she bought into the hype as a freshman. Now, as a junior, she had more demerits with Chi O’s standards committee than anyone could count.

“That little bitch Bridgette Waters has done nothing for us socially. We’re almost at the bottom of the barrel, Corbin, and she doesn’t even fucking care.”

“You know what, Ash?” I slurred when she’d cornered me on the balcony of River 2. “You’ve got to make it happen for yourself. That’s what I’m doing at Chi Beta. Fuck your officers. You want to mix with some hot guys? Go find them, and mix with them. And tell them why you deserve their company. Or they deserve you… or whatever.”

Ash and I shot the shit for a few minutes, but ultimately, my mind was already racing towards the next day. As fun as Christmas in the Country was, and as drunk as I got off special drinks from the Sigma Chi brothers, I was still as excited as a school girl about my date with Pete the next day.

Just like he promised, he showed up at Chi Beta the next evening at seven, with bells on. He’d asked me what obligations at the frat house I was forced to attend, and I told him the only thing that was mandatory was dinner and cocktails on Saturday. We had a cocktail party and a late night on Friday night, but I had set that up with the sophomores earlier in the day.

“Come inside for a drink,” I said to Pete when I opened his knock and was blown backwards by how cute he looked.

“I hope I’m dressed okay,” he said, referring to his charcoal suit, white shirt, and navy blue tie.

“You look perfect,” I smiled, pouring two glasses of Pimms that I’d had a senior pick up for me during the liquor run. “And your tie matches my suit.”

I had opted to wear my lucky navy blue Ralph Lauren suit which I’d gotten as a graduation gift from my parents. Being that the suit was a couple years old, it hugged my fuller college frame nicer than it had when I got it right off the rack two years ago.

“Are we ready to go?” Pete asked, taking the cup that I handed to him.

“Absolutely,” I replied. “I just need to put on a tie.”

I walked to the tie rack at the end of my closet.

“Which one do you think? Yellow and green stripes or the navy and red stripes?”

“Navy and red is a little parliamentary for me,” Pete replied. I gave him a blank look. “Like a congressman,” he explained.

“Oh! I get it.” I pulled out my yellow and green tie, took a sip of my cup, and turned back to Pete.

“So what’s on the agenda, killer?” I asked. He’d kept mum about the particulars of our date, but I knew we were hanging out at the one of the houses that had invited him over for the weekend.

“I was thinking we could have drinks and some food at Kappa Sig, and then I know Pi Phi is having a party, so I thought we could go there until your Late Night party.”

I smiled at him as I put my cup down and began to tie my tie.

“For you, I will do all of those things.”

“I’m sensing a however…” Pete interjected.

“However, I will have you know that I’m in a little bit of a fight with the Pi Phi social chair. He tried to steal our DJ for this weekend so they could throw their own late night.”

“For shame,” Pete gasped sarcastically. “How did you handle that one?”

“I called Swayze and told him that if he played at Pi Phi, I would cancel his bid to play at the Fancy Dress Ball. He reconsidered in about thirty seconds.”

“And Late Night was saved.”

“A Christmas miracle,” I smiled. Pete looked me in the eye and saw that I was struggling with my tie. The first time I tied it the bottom tail was too long. The second time, the knot came out crooked.

“Here,” he said. “Let me.”

He stood up, reached down and took my tie in his hands. I couldn’t help but smile as we made eye contact while Pete performed one of the most intimate acts I’d ever felt. It reminded me of the scene in Pretty Woman when Vivian ties Edward’s tie, and the thought of Pete and my love story ending like theirs made me smile from ear to ear.

And then the words of my pledge brother’s echoed in my mind. Right as I approached the precipice of falling into Pete again, I backed up. Could I be misinterpreting his idea of a date? His face was inches away from mine, sure, but I’d made the wrong assumption about Pete and me before. I didn’t want to fall back into that pattern.

And yet, with every passing moment, our connection grew stronger, and I could feel myself slipping back into that grey area that I had escaped so many times before.

“There,” Pete stepped back and admired his handiwork. “A perfect half Windsor.”

I felt the knot of my tie press down against the knot in my throat. I took a deep breath and tried to catch myself from doing something stupid until I was absolutely sure I was reading Pete correctly.

We finished our Pimms and headed to Kappa Sig. I knew a couple of the brothers there, so being Pete’s escort wasn’t too awkward. Most of the guys at the cocktail party were sophomores obligatorily rushing the freshmen invitees. I found a senior who I’d taken some theater classes with next to the bar, and steered Pete towards him.

“Surprised to see you here, Corbin,” my friend Teegan said, pouring Pete and me some whiskey sours. “Shouldn’t you be setting up Late Night?”

“If you think I set up Late Nights, Teeg, you must not know me at all.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot you’re a diva,” Teegan laughed. He turned to Pete. “This guy practically had his own dressing room when we did the student showcase together last year.”

“I was hosting the showcase!” I retorted.

“You’re right. Sorry I just had one monologue, and I wasn’t the star of the show.” Teegan was at his funniest when he was sarcastic and self-deprecating.

“Shut up. You’re an idiot,” I joked. Pete and I shot the shit with Teegan and his pledge brothers until they invited us upstairs for some heavier drinks and bowl of marijuana.

When the bowl was passed to me, I deflected and passed it straight to Pete on my right. He looked at me for what I was assuming was approval.

“Oh, come on, England,” Teegan’s roommate Mitch said. “We’re showing you some southern hospitality. Don’t be rude.”

I wasn’t sure what mixing weed and alcohol would do to Pete, but I prepared myself to find out as he put the bowl to his lips, lit the herb, and breathed in. A second later, he exhaled and coughed to a room full of applause. The guys at Kappa Sig loved him before, but after he let loose and smoked a couple rounds with them, he had them eating out of his hands.

“Has anyone told you about being a social member?” Mitch asked. I wasn’t sure what his position was in the frat, but I assumed he was the treasurer by the way he was clearly rushing my date.

“Corbin explained to me what it was,” Pete said, slouching back in his chair. He hadn’t stopped smiling for an hour or so.

“What did Corbin tell you?”

“That it has its perks. That I could get access to the parties and the events without doing a traditional pledgeship.”

“That’s pretty much what it is,” Teegan tagged in for Mitch. “If we were to extend you a social bid, you’d do a two-week truncated pledgeship. Very easy stuff, really. It’s mostly just getting to know brothers and sober driving for a couple of weekends. But then you’d have access to lunch at the frat house, any party we throw, mixers, tailgates. That kind of thing.”

“Sounds interesting,” Pete contorted his face in contemplation and I couldn’t help but chuckle at watching him try to reason while his mind was clearly clouded.

“Of course, you would have to pay dues in the full amount of one semester,” Mitch said, confirming my theory that he was the treasurer of Kappa Sig.

“I have a question,” I asked. All eyes turned to me. “Would he have to pay full dues? National dues? Or just the local social dues?”

I watched Mitch’s eyes narrow.

“That’s a great question. I meant to ask that question.” Pete sat up.

“Social members pay partial national dues. The portion that goes to our philanthropy, t-shirts, a pin, all of that stuff. Obviously he wouldn’t have to pay any room and board fees or anything. The rest is just local social stuff. For the parties.”

“Listen, if you were to extend a bid to my friend here,” I said playing the part of Pete’s agent. “We would want to look at the numbers of what he’s expected to contribute and what he’ll gain. The guys at Sigma Chi are giving him full kitchen and social access with only half of the semester’s local dues and none of the national dues. We would want to see a proposal more like that. If you were to extend a bid, that is.”

I looked from Mitch over to Pete who looked stunned that I’d brought out my negotiation skills. It was customary for there to be some back and forth about money. Most dues were set in stone, but even freshman were allowed to lobby what their scholarship and parents were willing to pay for. With social members, being they were mostly illegal to have at the national level, there was more leeway in that price negotiation.

“We’ll see what we can do. And we’ll have an offer for you if and when we’re ready to make a bid.”

I smiled at Pete.

“Enough business!” Teegan shouted, reaching for the bowl and dumping out the weed that had been cashed. “Let’s party.”

Pete and I stayed at Kappa Sig for a couple more rounds and one more drink, and twenty minutes later, as we walked down towards Frat Row in Downtown Clifton, Pete pulled me for a side hug so firm and so warm, I thought he’d never let go.

“That was amazing back there,” he said right into my ear. He kissed me on the top of my head. “You totally gave me all the street cred that I needed. And you brought down that price for me, and all of that. I didn’t even know you could do that.”

Pete took two quick steps and turned around to face me.

“Stick with me, and you’ll never go hungry again,” I mocked in my best Scar voice. Pete’s smile could have lit up the entire darkened street. He looked me right in the eye, and I felt a shiver go down my spine.

“You never stop amazing me, Corbin Crowley.” Pete leaned in and kissed me on the forehead. I didn’t know what to think in that moment. Was it a friend kiss? Was it a prelude to something bigger? Better? Was it a starter kiss, or was I reading too much into everything that had happened so far? I didn’t want to build myself up for a greater fall like I had before the Parent’s Weekend concert, but something was starting to tell me that that night was different. Pete and I were different.

And then he did it.

As he turned back around to lead me down the street to our next event, Pete grabbed my hand just above my wrist.

“Let’s go get me into some more fraternities,” he said, holding my hand in the most perfectly ambiguous way. But straight guys didn’t do that, I thought. Straight guys didn’t go from a forehead kiss to a hand grab in a mere moment. Guys with interest did that, I thought. Guys with history who were hell bent on turning that history around.

I have to admit that Pete’s actions distracted me as we walked into Sigma Chi for the tail end of their cocktail party. The music was already starting to get louder as they prepared for a pregame to the late night festivities. Pete and I managed to get a couple of drinks at the bar before everything was schlepped off and replaced by kegs.

We spent most of the party mixing and mingling. I introduced Pete to the Kappa and KD dates of the Sigma Chi brothers that I knew, as he did his best to impress the brothers. Most of them knew who I was, and had no reaction to me being there with Pete, even if they couldn’t quite figure out what capacity.

“Late Night better be hopping,” more than one guy said to me that night as we got progressively more drunk.

“Isn’t it always?” I replied. It wasn’t until Pete and I decided to move on to the next party that I noticed Nick Persons standing next to a lap top and controlling the music. I fought the urge to walk over and say hi, and waved to him instead. It was one thing to flirt openly with him when I was alone, but I was someone’s date that night, and that date was proving to go much better than I ever could have imagined.

As Pete and I walked to Pi Phi for our last stop on the frat tour before heading back to my house, I wondered if it would be up to me to make the move again. Part of me didn’t want to. In fact, most of me dreaded the idea of putting myself out there again. I wanted to be sure if I ever leaned in for another kiss with Peter Davis. I wanted to know that it would be requited and reciprocated in a way that was final… permanent. I couldn’t put my heart on my sleeve one more time if I wasn’t absolutely sure that my heart was protected.

And at that point in the night, although I was pretty positive, there were no absolutes.

“Are you ready for round three?” I asked as we approached the stairs for Pi Phi. I had been so wrapped up in my thoughts I hadn’t even noticed that somewhere along the walk, Pete had taken my hand again. I didn’t notice until he dropped it and said “After you.”

I wasn’t as familiar or friendly with the guys at Pi Phi, and having just gotten done reaming their social chair for trying to poach my DJ, I didn’t feel as confident about going to their party as I did about the first two. It was almost midnight, however, and everyone inside was decidedly drunk, and at that point in the night, several other frat guys had migrated to different parties, and so I let my guard down and decided to enjoy myself. This was about Pete and getting him a bid, and so as soon as we’d hung up our coats, I led him down to the dance floor.

We stood in a short line and got four beers in red solo cups, two for each of us.

“Down in one!” Pete shouted, holding up his cup. I didn’t understand what he’d said over the music.

“Huh?”

“Down in one! Chug your beer!”

“Okay!” I replied. We toasted our cups and chugged the first beer. It wasn’t cold, which was good, but drinking beer that heavy after being on spirits all night made my stomach turn and it took me a second to recover. Pete laughed at me as I made a cringed face, waiting for the beer to go down.

“You okay?”

“I’m great!” I took a deep breath, smiled, and turned over my cup. “Down in one!”

“Down in one!”

We took our second beers to the dance floor, and without breaking eye contact, started grinding in the six inches of air that separated us.

There was an intensity in Pete’s eyes that hadn’t been there before the Thanksgiving break. Maybe it was because I was just drunk enough to let myself go without being too drunk and sloppy as I’d been so many times around him in the past. Maybe the weed had loosened him up. Maybe he had decided after I bared my soul to him at Dakota’s party that he did have feelings for me. Or maybe I was completely wrong.

Whatever it was, dancing with Pete that night felt different. And so I took my arm and wrapped it around his waist. I pulled him in until our hips were touching, moving to the beat of an Akon song. Pete looked down at me and smiled. I still wasn’t sure, absolutely positive, my meter, my dial, was moving closer towards absolute with every passing move.

After a few songs, I heard the familiar strum of American Boy by Estelle. I let go of Pete, who had put his arm around my waist in turn, and started jumping up and down.

“I love this song,” I shouted, turning to face him head on. I handed Pete my half empty beer cup and started moving my hips in front of him.

“Take me to New York, I’d love to see LA!” I sang with the music. I pivoted, turning my hips so that I was facing away from Pete, my ass right in front of his crotch.

“I really want to, come kick it with you. You’ll be my American boy!”

As the music played, as I sang along, I continued to dance against Pete’s body. As I felt him move into me from behind, I grabbed his neck from behind and did one of the sexiest moves I could think of. I slithered my body, completely pressed against his. Our bodies moved to the beat as one, as I smiled up towards Pete, craning my neck.

I didn’t know if he could tell I was begging for a kiss. I didn’t know if he knew how much, in that moment, dancing with him, I wanted one. Needed a kiss from him. Yearned to feel his lips against mine. His body felt great, but I wanted more for our connection.

I turned around, my hand still on his neck, and looked him in the eye. He smiled at me. I could have done it right then. I could have leaned in, on my tip toes and kissed him. And I’m almost sure that it would have been amazing.

But I wasn’t completely sure, and the memory of our last kiss, our last failed attempt at a kiss ran through my mind at the last second, and so I pulled back and continued dancing.

“Take me on a trip, I’d like to go some day.”

I continued to dance around Pete as the music progressed. I circled him and danced with him from behind. I let my hands wander down his chest and stomach. I even did my signature move of pulling him closer to me by the belt buckle.

“Take me to Chicago, San Francisco Bay!”

I did everything I knew how to show him I was in if he was. If he wanted me, he had me, and there was no mistaking that, not that night. He was the only guy in the room, and I made sure he felt it with every swipe of my hand against his body.

And then the song ended. And another. And another, until Pete and I were three beers in at Pi Phi and I had let more moments pass than I could count.

“I need to use the restroom!” I shouted after we performed an impromptu routine to Paper Planes.

“I’ll be at the bar. One more beer and then Late Night?” he asked. I nodded.

I panted off the dance floor to the restroom upstairs on the first floor. I didn’t stop to talk to anyone I knew, and instead just went straight for the stall. As I peed, I asked myself what I was doing there. What was I doing with Pete? What I was getting myself into? How was I allowing myself to fall back in love with him when the results so many times before had been disastrous?

Was I glutton for misery? I thought as I drained the main vein. Or was I finally getting through to the guy that I’d been after all semester long. Maybe it had taken him this long to fall in love with me back. Maybe all of those times before were practice.

But what if they weren’t? What if I was destined to kiss him again, pull him in, letting my heart go one more time only to have it crushed by a Brit? What if he didn’t want me as his American Boy and I was making the whole thing up in my head?

But there were certain things you couldn’t deny. There were certain chemistries that weren’t lies, that couldn’t be faked. There were certain bonds that were void of pretext, and I felt that bond with Pete tonight in a way I hadn’t in a very long time.

I knew he wanted me. I knew he was just as scared as I was. I knew that I had hurt him in the past in ways that I didn’t even understand in that moment, and I knew that his trust for my feelings waivered between a rock and a VMI cadet.

I knew that Pete would never make the move. He would hold back and only give me as much as I gave him until I proved to him that I was all in. And in what felt like the world’s longest inner monologue during the world’s longest urination, I decided that I’d let enough moments pass that night. I had let enough caresses go, enough eye contact expire, and enough opportunities to kiss the man I loved pass me by.

There was a chance he would hurt me. There was a chance he would pull away. There was a chance that I was reading too far into a perfect night with the perfect guy, and that it was all in my head.

But I had to take that chance. It would kill me more not to than it would to fail after taking the plunge. The uncertainty would kill me. Wondering if things had changed would haunt me. Letting this night pass me by would tattoo my heart with regret.

And so I tucked my half hard dick into my pants, zipped up, and rinsed my hands. I walked with confidence back down to the basement. Pete met me with a smile and full cup of beer.

“Down in one, killer.” I said.

“Down in one!”

We chugged our cups, and I wiped my mouth of foam when we finished. I watched as Pete winced down his beer, probably one more than he should have had at that point in the night. In a move of pure instinct, I reached out with my thumb and wiped the foam from the corner of Pete’s mouth, smiling at him the entire time.

“What would I do without you?”

“Look like a slob,” I replied, not breaking eye contact. And then, playing back my entire self-pep talk in the bathroom, I decided it was time. The moment was there, and the moment certainly felt right. I couldn’t imagine Pete and I being in a more intimate position than we were right then. And so I leaned up, caressed the side of his neck with my hand, arched my neck, and kissed him.

It didn’t take more than a second for Pete to react. He put his arm around my waist, pulled me in, and a second later, his tongue was diving deep into my mouth. I moaned softly as Pete pushed his head deeper into mine, pulling me into him with his strong arm. I continued to hold the side of his face, positioning my mouth squarely against his, licking the top side of his tongue with mine.

In that moment, time stopped. Everything around us was still. There was no denying the kiss this time, and with his mouth against mine, everything that had happened before vanished. I let my body press even further into Pete’s and with him pulling me in, I could feel every inch of him as our chests, torsos, and pelvises rubbed together.

I thought about reaching down between us and seeing if Pete’s dick was as impossibly hard as mine was. I hesitated for a second, not wanting to rush the moment. Instead, I allowed Pete to go from returning my kiss to kissing me to taking full control over our make out session in the bottom of a fraternity basement.

I knew the kiss couldn’t last forever. They never do. Eventually, someone has to come up for air, and when Pete did, when he pulled back, I felt my face trail his, not wanting to let go of his lips. I wanted him to say something romantic in that moment.

‘Let’s get out of here.’ Or. ‘That was amazing.’ Or even ‘Wow…’ would have sufficed. But nothing prepared me for what I heard next. Nothing in my being could have readied me for what Pete actually said moments after sharing the most intimate moment two men can share.

“I’m sorry. I think I’m really drunk.”

The words hit me like a slap in the face. As quickly as everything between us had disappeared before, it all came rushing back. The rejection, confusion, and humiliation of being in love with someone who didn’t love you back. My brain felt like it was going to explode trying to interpret his words.

“What?” I asked, my eyes narrowing and my face drawing a blank.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, I just… I think I’m…”

“Really drunk, no I heard you,” I replied, taking a step back. “Is that why you kissed me back? Because you’re drunk?”

“Corbin…”

“No, tell me. Because that felt like a helluva of a lot more than a drunken kiss, Pete, so what am I missing?”

I could hear myself shouting above the music. Pete looked around to see if anyone was watching us, but I didn’t care. I kept my eyes planted firmly on him.

“Let’s not do this here,” he replied.

I looked at him, shocked at how a kiss so good, so tender, so amazing, so full of possibilities and reassurances could go south so quickly. I was flabbergasted and embarrassed. I had stepped over the line again, this time completely sure that Pete would be there to meet me, and again I was met with nothing but disappointment.

I shook my head, let out a scoff and agreed with him.

“You’re right. I’m leaving.”

I turned to walk up the stairs, unaware if Pete was following me or not. It wasn’t until I got outside, holding my coat and walking down the steps towards the road back home that I heard Pete come out from the Pi Phi house.

“Corbin, wait.”

“Wait for what? For you to sober up? I wouldn’t want to say anything to you while you’re really drunk.”

“I didn’t mean…”

“What did you mean?” I asked, flipping around to face Pete. I watched him follow me down the steps and meet me at the corner of the sidewalk and the road. “What did that kiss mean?”

“I just… I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

“But you did,” I replied, my eyes wide. “And if I remember correctly, no one forced you.”

“I’ve told you that we’re friends.”

“Friends?” I could feel myself growing more and more agitated. I couldn’t tell if I was more upset with Pete for being a coward yet again, or with myself for putting myself in that position for the second time. “Friends don’t go on Christmas Weekend dates together. Friends don’t hold hands walking down the street or hold each other on the dance floor. You and I are not friends, as much as you would love to put that label on us. For the life of me, and I can’t understand why this is still the case, but I love you. I am in love with you, and I know that you love me back. That, in there… that wasn’t just a kiss.”

“Corbin.”

“What are you afraid of? Tell me right now! What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not who you want me to be.” I turned my head and took in a deep breath. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.

“Okay. Then say it. Say it and take me out of this grey area that you’ve put me in once and for all. Say it so that it’s black and white. Because right now, your actions are showing me something completely different than what you’re trying to say, so say it. Right now.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Pete’s face was pained, but soft. It was framed by the mist escaping his lips as we stood there facing each other in the cold.

I swiped at my face, not wanting a single tear to drop while I stood there and looked at Pete. I swallowed every ounce of pride I had and put on my most stoic face.

“Let me worry about that.”

“I… I can’t explain what happens to me when I’m around you,” Pete began. I sighed, not blinking for fear of releasing a flood of ice cold tears down my cheek. “You disarm me. You make me feel things, and I don’t… I haven’t sorted through what all of that means. I just…”

“That’s a bunch of bullshit,” I countered, not wanting to let him finish. We’d been through this before, and at that point, if Pete wasn’t going to end it once and for all, then I was. I was sick and tired of being in relationship ambiguity with him. I needed clarity if I was ever going to move on. I realized in that moment that even when Pete and I had agreed to be friends before, despite how I felt, there was a premise of hope there. There was an underlying glimmer that one day he’d figure himself out enough to requite how I felt about him.

I was done with that glimmer. In that moment, I couldn’t imagine a better scenario for Pete and me to take ourselves to the next level, and since I’d done what I could, everything I could, I needed him to be done as well. I was over the grey area, and so I wanted Pete… needed Pete to make things black and white.

“You know how you feel. You know who you are. We’ve been doing this song and dance for months, and for what? I’ve given you a million chances to break my heart and you still find a way to give me just enough hope to string me a long. I can’t do that anymore with you. You can’t treat me like you want me and then the second I let myself fall for you, you recoil like a rubber band. I’m done with it, Pete. So say it. Say it right now. Rip of the band aid and hurt me now because if you don’t, if you leave the door open just a crack you will only kill me later. Put me out of my misery right now, and just say what it is that you have to say.”

“Corbin…”

“Say it. Close the door. Black or white. Say it right now. Either we’re in this and we try it, or you let me go. Right now. Say it! Say it! Pete…”

It wasn’t until I shouted at him that I realized I was crying. I had never cried over a guy like this before, and certainly not in front of him. I sniffled, made a lame attempt at wiping my face with the back of my hand, and stared Pete in the eyes.

He looked at me as if I was roadkill and I couldn’t have felt more vulnerable in my life. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t the guy that stood there baring his soul. But I also wasn’t the guy that let someone hurt him twice in a row. I felt my body grow cold, and just as I began to tense up, I watched as Pete came towards me with his arms open.

“Don’t touch me!” I pushed his arms away, not wanting a hug right then. I embraced how cold I felt because I needed to. A hug would have left the door open, and I was standing there begging him to close it for me.

“Corbin…” I stood up straight and waited for him to say what I needed to hear. And even though I wanted to be free from feeling for him, even though I wanted him to cut me loose, close the door, let me go, I didn’t for once imagine how hard those words would hurt.

And when I heard him say them, I turned from Pete and his angelic face in a cloud of mist, and walked away, my body and my heart growing colder with each step.

“Corbin, I don’t love you.”