Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Brandon
Robbie and I don’t skip classes again, but even though our schedules are intense, we catch up as much as we can.
And the nights when he’s busy, I work on myself.
I’m taking the plug way easier and even managed to get two fingers in there next to it last night, so I’m getting confident I can take him.
Who knew having a brofriend could be so fun?
But while I love everything I’m doing with Robbie, and I wouldn’t change us fucking around for the world, I’m nervous about this visit home.
My mom and dad know me a bit too well since I’m all they ever had, and I’m worried that as soon as they see me with Robbie, they’ll call me out for the thing I’m trying not to think about.
The thing that causes butterflies when he’s around.
The thing that makes me get lost in sex above and beyond the pleasure of it.
The thing that has me reluctant to name an end date for whatever we’re doing.
Technically, once he fucks me, we’ll have covered all the experimental bases.
Sure, there are always things to learn sexually—especially if you try out the kink side of things—but when it comes to knowing what positions do it for us and what we’re comfortable doing with another man, we’ve got it covered.
Almost.
So once he tops me … what’s the point of us continuing this thing?
Other than I really, really want to.
“Gear up, motherfuckers!” Chad says, handing out the water guns.
“Or in our case,” Robbie mutters, “brother fuckers would be more accurate.”
“Dude, stop.” I laugh as I jostle him, and he fires a spurt of water at me in retaliation. “Dooms is gonna kill you if you’re not taking this seriously.”
“Relax.” He pats his pocket. And okay, for maybe the first time ever, Robbie’s cargo pants and fanny pack make sense. He’s got them stuffed full of as many small water guns as he could fit in there.
They’re going to have fun.
And I say “they” because I don’t get to play.
Risk managers need to look out for their houses.
My role will be to stand back and observe, fill our drum of colored water when it gets low, and make sure any out players get their asses inside and changed once they’ve been hit.
It’s only five, but it’s already dark out, and it’s going to be a cold one.
All fourteen houses on the row are playing.
“All right, you animals,” Zeke says. “Most of you have played Guard Duty before, but for the pledge bitches, this is how it’s gonna go down.”
I try not to sulk at the fact even the pledges get to join in.
Most of the time, they’re the ones stuck with the grunt work.
In something like our scavenger hunt, it makes sense for the risk managers to play and be on the ground with the others.
We’re all first aid trained, and if anything happened, having us spread out all over campus means that one of us is going to be close if needed.
In the street, keeping each of us at our houses is the smarter choice.
I get it.
Of course I do.
Keeping the frat houses and our members safe means continuing to operate. We need to keep this bubble of brother and sisterhood operating so future Sigma Beta Psis get to experience everything we have—unless they’re the risk managers too, and then they’re shit outta luck.
Though, I don’t miss out on as much as Zeke.
Unlike him though, I care. I want to be involved.
I really didn’t think this executive position through.
And yeah, it has its perks like a single room, which I’m definitely taking advantage of, but the previous risk manager didn’t warn me how isolating the whole thing can be.
“This is our totem.” Zeke holds up a small marble statue with our letters stamped across the bottom, backlit from the light on our porch.
He’d tried to have a butt plug approved, but when he told the other presidents he wouldn’t confirm whether it was used or not, they vetoed that idea fast. Pity.
It would have given us the advantage if the other teams didn’t want to touch it.
“Every house has a totem. It’s your job to capture theirs and bring them back to our porch while protecting our own.
First house to three wins—and you can steal totems back.
If you’re shot, you’re out. The more people you shoot, the more points our team gets if everyone is out before the three totems are gathered. ”
Today, there’s no time limit for how long the game can go for. When I played during sophomore year, we ended up going well into the night, until most houses gave up from the cold. We won, of course, because not even a little frostbite can make a house full of athletes quit.
Stubborn and competitive to the core.
It should be the Sigma Beta Psi motto.
“Other than those rules, there are no rules,” Chad says. “Any questions?”
There never is. All we want is to get started already. Zeke says into his radio that we’re good to go, and then everyone gets into position.
Robbie nudges me. “You okay?”
“Fine.” I force a fake as shit smile. “Love playing waterboy.”
He hesitates in joining the others. “Did you want to play? We can switch if you want to.”
“Switch, huh? We’re gonna.” I pump my eyebrows at him.
“As much as I love where your mind is at, you know that’s not what I mean.”
I wave him off. “It’s fine. I know what I’m doing here.”
He’s clearly conflicted, not sure whether to take me at my word or not, but as much as I might want to join them, I don’t want to do it at Robbie’s expense.
These are the days he lives for, that he spends a good chunk of his free time planning, and there’s no way I’ll be the one to take it away from him.
Besides, it wouldn’t be as fun if he wasn’t involved.
I give him a push. “You better win this for us, big guy.”
“I’ll make you proud, Brando.”
“Good. Because if you get this over with quickly, we’ll have the rest of the night to do whatever we want.”
He sucks in a sudden breath. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”
What I don’t tell him is it doesn’t matter if this thing goes all night. I’ll still be waiting for him.
I don’t know how to stop.