Last Ride of the Night

I'd done it. For the past two weeks, I was officially a pledge of Alpha Rho Epsilon-the best frat on campus.The guys in it were all popular, and later successful in life. And the parties they threw? Legendary! We were early October and tonight was the first official party of the frat, to start the new school year. They had a few parties before, but it was smaller- mostly for members, friends and pledges. They had decided the theme tonight to be 'Rodeo Night', they even rented a mechanical bull to put in the backyard.

That's where I was headed, hauling my 6 feet ass off with a cowboy hat on my head. I was wearing Wrangler jeans and a tight, dark blue dress shirt. I probably looked ridiculous but I didn't have a choice, it was the mandatory dress code for all 8 of us pledges. I didn't mind that much anyway, not to toot my own horn but I am pretty good looking. Although I'm not sculpted like some guy, I'm athletic with good muscle definition and green eyes. Girls would usually say that I am adorable and I never had any problems charming them. I'm not a guy who runs after a girl and tries to sleep with as many as I can, but if I met a cute girl I wouldn't be shy about flirting with her. And that night, I knew there would be plenty of girls.

When I arrived at the frat house, the party was already in full swing. I was a bit late because I spent all afternoon preparing it with the other pledges. The music was loud--some ironic country music playlist nobody liked, just there to fit the theme. People were still dancing to it, or at least trying to, with drinks in their hands. I started to make my way through the crowd. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be doing anything or just blend in. That's the thing about being a pledge--you're always waiting for someone to yell at you or hand you a task.

"Evan!" someone shouted behind me. I turned to see Brad, one of the frat brothers, making his way through the crowd with a cup in his hand. "You're almost late dude, the game is about to start. Here take this," he said as he handed me a beer. I instantly gulped down half of it. I was feeling both nervous and excited. The game had pledges paired with a senior member of the frat, doing random games all throughout the night with a ranking system. Basically, if you performed poorly or didn't get along with your teammate, you could kiss goodbye to being initiated into the frat.

"YEEHAW!" someone yelled. The room quieted down, and like everybody else I looked for the source of that sound. I found Craig, the pledge master and judge of tonight's games, standing atop a table surrounded by two frat brothers.

"Welcome to the first Alpha Rho Epsilon party of the year!" he shouted, and the room erupted in applause and cheers. "Tonight we've got a bunch of games for our new little pledges! You can recognize them by their cowboy hats."

I saw people looking around and their eyes settled on me, and in an effort to try and look cool, I tipped my hat to them. It must have worked because I saw a couple of girls smiling at me.

"The games will be done in pairs, with a member of the frat, and you can keep track of the scores on this board. Feel free to cheer... or egg them on! Anyway, let's make the teams!" And once again, everybody cheered. He started listing pledges and pairing them up. I was getting nervous waiting for my name, a drop of sweat dripping down my face. "And finally, our last pledge, Evan will be paired with...." He paused. My heart was beating so fast I thought it might stop. "Our incredible president--Grayson!" The cheers got even louder. Then the music returned, and just like that, everyone went back to talking, flirting, and dancing.

I was even more nervous. Being paired with the president meant I could get dismissed on the spot if I did something he didn't approve of. As a pledge, I had mostly seen him from afar, but there was no doubt Grayson was a natural-born leader. He was a senior, charismatic, as well as respected and admired by everyone in the fraternity, by everyone in general as he was one of the most popular guy on campus. I moved through the crowd to find him, and finally spotted him on the porch outside, talking to a couple of hot girls who were around him, hanging on his every word and laughing at everything he said.

I stared at him for a short time, he was tall--maybe an inch or two taller than me--with broad shoulders and that kind of build that made shirts look custom-fitted. Dark hair, cut short and always perfectly messy, and a jawline that could slice through wood. I had to admit it: the guy was handsome. Too handsome. Movie star handsome. It added to his reputation, he was known in the frat to be able to get any girl he wanted, his smile could charm anyone. I felt intimidated looking at him, but I was determined to join the frat as a full member so I made my way to him.

"Ah! Pledge," he said as he saw me approach. "I hope you're ready for the games because I don't lose."

"Yes, sir," I immediately said and I felt myself blush. I don't know why I added the sir, I just felt like I wanted to please him.

"Don't be mean Gray!" said one of the girls, lightly hitting his strong arm. "Look at him, he looks like he's going to piss himself."

"Yeah, relax Evan," he said, in a gentler tone. "Here, drink this and call me Grayson." He handed me his drink, and I took a sip, coughing up right after. I was expecting beer but he was drinking a much stronger mixture.

"OK, we'll keep you on beer," he said, taking his drink back from my hand. I tried to catch my breath, to protest and say I could handle it but Craig interrupted me by calling us over.

"Gray, it's you guys turn."

"Let's go pledge," ordered Grayson, going into the backyard and I followed behind.

The backyard of the frat house was usually pretty big, but between the people in it, the couple of activity stands and the big mechanical bull in the back, it felt small. Nevertheless, Grayson and I made our way to where Craig was standing.

"Welcome to your first trial, Lasso! Yeehaw!" shouted Craig. Behind him was a small setup: five objects of different sizes placed at various distances, with a looped rope and a hula-hoop circle on the ground. "The rules are simple: stand in the circle and try to lasso a maximum of objects. You only get one try per object. Good luck!"

"Watch how it's done, newbie," said Grayson with confidence. Being the frat president, a lot of people had surrounded us to watch him throw, and they cheered him on as he stepped into the circle. I observed how he threw the lasso, adapting the size of the loop to the object each time. He managed to lasso four out of five, only missing the last one, which was the most difficult by far. People applauded and he waved and flexed to the crowd in glory, he knew how to give people what they wanted.

"Make me proud," he told me as he handed me the lasso.

I stepped up to the circle, nervous, my hand shaking. I threw the rope at the first object and missed. I steadied myself, took a deep breath, adjusted the size of the lasso and threw--and nailed it! The crowd erupted in a cheer, and I grew more confident. I shouldn't have, because I missed the next two shots. Luckily, I slightly redeemed myself as I successfully lassoed the last, most difficult, object. I turned around, all smiles, ready to celebrate with Grayson. But when I saw him, he looked hard, serious.

"Two out of five is nothing to cheer about, pledge," he told me as I made my way to him. My smile vanished, I felt a little sad--like I'd let him down.

"OK, you guys were the last to have a go and you ended up ranking..." Craig paused for suspense. "Second!" and the crowd went back to cheering.

"Alright, I'll let it slide this time," Grayson told me. "But you better bring your A-game for the next games, pledge."

We went back into the house, and I stayed around him. I wasn't really with him, as he wasn't paying much attention to me, but since we were in a team I felt like I had to stay close by. I saw how girl after girl came to flirt with him, and how easily he flirted back, charming them without even trying. A couple of girls came up to talk with me as well, but they mostly teased me about how cute I was with my cowboy hat and joked about me being a pledge. I tried to use my best puppy eyes to get at least one of them interested in me, but it didn't work. Before long they only had eyes for Grayson, who wasn't far away. I didn't blame them, he was by far the most handsome guy at the party. I made a mental note to steer clear of Grayson during the next parties if I was hoping to score, and as I looked around I noticed the frat brothers had a similar rule, as all the one who were chatting up girls were doing so from the other side of the house where Grayson was. I only came upon the other brothers when they would hand me a drink or joke around with me.

A couple of hours went by, and I was feeling a bit hot and tipsy from all the beer I'd been drinking. We played a few more games, but we didn't do great as we were currently ranked fourth in the overall leaderboard. At least, Grayson didn't give me too much shit about it--he did just as bad in most of them.

"OK, Team Grayson, your turn for frat trivia," said Craig as he approached us. "Grayson I'll ask you first, and Evan I'll ask yours later. If you answer wrong, you'll have to take a shot and take off your shirt for the rest of the party."

"Let's distract him!" I heard a few girls scheme next to Grayson. He seemed to love the attention because he was playing along with a sly smile, and he answered with fake outrage: "No! Damn it!" when Craig told him he was wrong. The girls cheered, chanting "Take it off!" as he put on a show for his audience, slowly peeling off his shirt.

Everyone around went quiet for half a second, as they observed the frat president shirtless, and under the party lights, he looked like a God among men. His chest was broad, with a light dusting of black hair. His abs were ripped enough you could clearly count them--eight. And his biceps looked even bigger without sleeves in the way. It wasn't fair, honestly. With this face and body, no wonder girls orbited around him.

"You too, pledge," his deep voice brought me back from my reverie as I was staring at him. "And keep the hat."

I quickly obeyed and removed my dress shirt. I immediately felt self-conscious--who wouldn't with Grayson standing so close, looking like a damn fitness model. I felt like the before photo on a gym ad, even though my body was nothing to scoff at. I didn't have Grayson's definition, but I had a lean, toned body.

"Not bad, pledge!" said one of the girls next to Grayson. I recognized her to be one of the girls from a popular sorority, and my confidence shot up.

"Yeah, nice foundation Evan!" added Grayson. "With a little more work, you could really have a killer bod." He punctuated his sentence by feeling my bicep with his hand. The touch felt electric, it sent shivers down my spine and sent my heart racing. I didn't know what to do or what to say.

"OK, show's over!" declared Grayson. "Pledge, go put our shirts in my room then come down and meet me by the beer station."

I made my way to the biggest bedroom of the house, on the top floor and dropped our stuff on his king-sized bed before making my way down, spotting Grayson waiting for me next to a small table full of beer.

"OK, pledge," said Grayson. "We're nowhere near first place, and if it continues like this we won't be winning this shit and there is no way I'm going to lose."

I was about to defend myself but Grayson read me like a book and cut me short: "I'm not blaming you! I've been distracted and I haven't done well either. That's why we need to focus and destroy this game! Every other team failed miserably in their beer runs, so it's our time to shine!"

That was true, the second to last game of the party was 'Beer Run'. As a pair, you needed to move five beers from one place to another, across the house. Simple enough, but the pledges weren't allowed to use their hands and the brothers had to keep their hands on the pledge's hips at all times. Other teams tried to move them using only their teeth, or with a backpack and duct tape, but none made it without spilling a good amount of beer.

"I've got a bit of a weird plan. If you trust me, we won't spill a drop! But it might be a little uncomfortable for you. So, are you with me pledge?!" shouted Grayson, hyping me up like a good leader would.

"Yes!" I shouted back, feeling the desire to win from him.

"I can't hear you!"

"Let's win this!!"

"OK! Put your hands on the ground and keep your legs up!"

I took a second, not sure I heard him right, but he stared at me with a look full of conviction and I obliged. This had to be the dumbest idea I'd ever heard. But the way he said it--like it was going to work--made me believe him. Taking position, I felt him put something cold and heavy across my back. Then his hands found my hips.

"I'm going to place the tray full of beers on your back, which will act as a table," he explained. "And we'll walk like this, so try to keep your back flat and move straight forward and we've got this!"

We started moving, slow and awkward at first. I was doing my best to keep the beers steady, and so far we hadn't lost a single drop of beer. Grayson's grip on my hips was firm. He matched my pace from behind, walking in time with me, but our rhythm wasn't perfect. A few steps in, his thigh bumped into mine. Then again, this time harder. And then-- His crotch brushed my ass.

It was nothing. We were both wearing jeans, but still. I felt it, just for a second. I tensed, thinking maybe he felt it too. But his hands just stayed there--solid, as if nothing had happened. Maybe I was imagining it.

"Keep it level, pledge," he said, his voice low and focused. "We're almost there."

We kept going, navigating through the narrow living room with people cheering us on from both sides. Another misstep--his hips hit mine again. It was part of the game, that's all it was. Finally, we reached the end. Grayson lifted the tray from my back, like it was treasure and put it down on the table. We had done it, we moved all of the beer without spilling it.

"Let's gooo!" shouted Grayson to the room.

My legs were shaking. The pressure of the game was finally catching up to me. I was feeling the effects of it now that it was gone. Grayson offered me a hand, his palm was rough and warm. I took it and he pulled me up with ease. "You crushed it Evan," he said, his grin wide. He held onto my hand for a second too long, just long enough for me to notice, before finally letting go and slapping me on the back. "Team Grayson's back in the game."

"Well done Team Grayson," said Craig, as he appeared in front of us. "But now is trivia time! And it's your turn, pledge."

The level of difficulty of the question was much higher than Grayson's. But I was expecting it, having heard some of the questions the other pledges had to answer. This trivia game was meant for the seniors to answer and the pledges to fail. I took my time before answering, trying to sound confident--even if I wasn't.

"Wrong!" said Craig with a sly smile. "Drop your jeans boys!"

The crowd cheered as if someone had just scored again. Grayson popped his button and slid his pants down without hesitation, revealing dark boxer-briefs that hugged his thighs like a second skin. I followed suit, a little slower. I was used to being in my underwear around guys--locker rooms, sports teams--but here? At a party? Where everyone else was fully dressed? Where girls were watching and giggling and taking photos? It felt different. I suddenly felt more exposed than shirtless. More on display.

I looked at Grayson to see if he was feeling the same, but he looked unbothered. I caught a quick glimpse at his sizable bulge, and once again I felt a little self-conscious next to him. He looked so at ease--like being admired was just part of his reality. I instinctively brought my arms in front of me, trying to shield myself without making it obvious. I downed the shot handed to me, for failing the trivia question and I felt a little better. But I didn't have time to overthink it because we were called for our second and final round of beer run.

Same rules. Same positions. Only this time, no jeans between us.

I got into position, hands and feet on the floor, and felt the tray settle carefully onto my back. Grayson's hands found my hips again--warmer now, somehow--and we started moving. Slow. Controlled. Focused.

But then it happened. One step slightly off. His hips bumped into mine, and this time... I felt it. His cock. Pressed right up against my ass. We were both in tight boxer-briefs, the thinnest layer of fabric between us, and there was no mistaking it. He was big. And he wasn't pulling away. My body froze, but he kept walking like nothing had happened--his grip never faltering, his focus still on the tray.

Until the girls found him. A pack of them swarmed Grayson mid-run, hooting and hollering, laughing as they leaned in.

"Grayson, you can't touch us but we can touch you, right?" one said, already draping her arms over his shoulders.

Another one lifted her shirt for a split second, flashing him while screaming, "Yeehaw!"

He tried to laugh it off, tried to keep pace, but I could feel it--he shifted forward with their rhythm, and in doing so, he ground against me. Not once, not lightly. He bucked his hips like he would if he were dancing with one of them--except I was the one in front of him.

And he got hard. I felt it. Thick. Pressed between my cheeks through the fabric. My breath caught, but I didn't say anything. Didn't move. Part of me wanted to chalk it up to party madness, but another part of me... didn't want to move away. That last shot must have been hitting me, because I felt heat all throughout my body.

And then, before I could stop myself, I pushed back--just slightly. A little test. A light roll of my hips into him. He didn't say anything. But he didn't move either. Then Craig shouted something about the timer, and we were moving again. I got my head back into the game, hoping he hadn't noticed me grinding back against him. We still had little accidental contacts as we moved out of pace, but I didn't linger on it. I just pushed forward.

We reached the table, beers intact. Another flawless run. The crowd roared and I collapsed into the ground. I was hard and I didn't want anybody to see it. I had a minute to cool down as Grayson celebrated our win before he pulled me up.

He smiled at me, still holding onto my hand, and for a second I thought he knew. He knew the effect he had had on me. But he simply said: "Well done." Before he disappeared into the crowd with his adoring fans.

I went outside to clear my head. Found an empty spot on the side of the porch, where nobody would pay attention to me. I looked back into the house through the window and saw girls lining up to do body shots on Grayson. I turned back, looked forward, closed my eyes and took a deep breath of fresh nightly air.

I jumped up when I felt a hand on my lower back. "Evan," I heard Grayson say as I opened my eyes. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah, what's up?" I tried to answer casually, not thinking about his warm hand still on my body.

"I was calling for you. It's our turn on the mechanical bull, but it's fine if you're not up for it."

"No, I'm good!" I tried to reassure him. "I had a little too much to drink so I was cooling my head, but now I'm ready to go!"

He was staring at me, trying to figure out if I was lying, and I gave him my best smile.

"Alright, then let's do this." He moved aside to let me walk ahead, and I did, his hand finally leaving my body. And for some reason... I was missing it.

We talked strategy as we walked to the big machinery at the back of the yard.