CrazyAngel

Subject: Visiting My Brother at College part 2 We end up just eating in the dining hall, chicken tenders for me, a burger for Reed. I know I'm way too quiet during the meal, I'm too busy noticing my brother with new eyes. I watch the way his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows, how his eyes light up when he's talking about something that excites him. I stare at the point where his jaw meets his neck, that soft, lickable spot just below his ear. I even admire his strong-looking hands as he holds his burger in one and gestures with the other as he talks. I'm not even really paying attention to what he's saying, but hopefully he doesn't notice. I don't know why I never noticed these things before. I guess he has always just been my brother, not really a guy. But now, after seeing him nearly naked, glistening from his shower, it's like some switch has been flipped and he is suddenly very much a guy. An incredibly sexy guy. I know I'm blushing. I know I'm acting hella weird. I need to shut this shit down. So what if my brother is sexy? He's my brother, he would be off limits even if he weren't painfully straight. He may be fine with having a gay brother, but having a gay brother who wants to ride his dick would definitely not be okay. I can't let him notice me perving on him. So this has to stop. There are plenty of other sexy guys in the world. Hell, there are plenty of other sexy guys in this room. I tear my eyes away from Reed and look around, trying to distract myself. I zero in on a table of what look like athletes. One guy, a tall, lanky but built guy with buzzed reddish-blonde hair is totally my type, he reminds me of Ryan, this basketball player at my High School I used to hook up with, and I spend a minute trying to fantasize about him instead of Reed. "...but Toby thinks this one will be pretty big and diverse," Reed is saying, catching my attention again. "I'm sorry, what?" I ask, focusing back on him. Hearing Toby's name gave me an idea for a solution to my recent problem. Reed might be hot, but Toby is sex on legs. I can focus on him. God willing, I can hook up with him. A good fuck will calm my libido, and if nothing else, trying will be a distraction. "Something behind me got you spacing out?" Reed teases, turning to look over his shoulder. "Ha, I see. Basketball team. Anyway, I was saying baseball house parties are usually kinda lame, just a bunch of jocks pounding beers and trying to one-up each other with stupid stunts and dares, but this one is supposed to be big, lots of different types of people, so it shouldn't be so bad for you, you know?" All right, then. Big college party. It should be easy to get lost in the crowd, have some drinks, avoid Reed, flirt with Toby, or anyone else who catches my eye. I'm excited. I've been to parties before, but High School parties aren't like they show in movies, at least not often. Usually it's 20-30 kids who can't really handle their alcohol playing beer pong, coughing their way through cigarettes trying to seem cool and mature, and a handful of people trying to dance to someone's Spotify playlist on a shitty speaker. Once my friend Geoff got a keg for a party, but we couldn't even finish it. Reed says the baseball house parties usually go through three or four kegs in a night. So I'm feeling optimistic as we leave the dining hall and start walking toward the party, although I'm looking at Reed as little as possible. I don't think he notices. I hope he doesn't notice. He knows I can be quiet sometimes, a little bit weird. He had left for college just before I came out, and his longest visit home was a few weeks during the Summer, so he's only really known closeted Devin, who was shy and awkward. He doesn't know that that's not really me anymore, or at least it's not always me, so maybe he won't notice anything different now. Baseball house is a few blocks off campus on the opposite side of the campus from Reed's dorm. As we walk, I listen to Reed explain exactly what "baseball house" is. "You know, the university doesn't have frats or sororities because they don't want to encourage a lot of partying or, like social segregation," he says, "but it doesn't really work, because the sports teams fill in that gap. Obviously not all of the baseball team lives at baseball house, but like six of the guys do and it's where they tend to hang out and host all of their parties. There's a basketball house, lacrosse house, football house, you name it. The women's crew house is actually pretty crazy, like half the team is lesbians and they're determined to show they can go just as hard as any of the guys' teams, so they end up going even harder." As Reed is explaining the intricate social dynamics of the local drinking culture, I start to hear the noise of the party, heavy bass, laughter, and occasional screams or cheers. A minute later we turn onto a side street and I spot it. It's a big house in the middle of the block, an old three-story Victorian with a huge porch crowded with people smoking or just standing around talking. Well, I'll definitely be able to get lost here. "Jesus, won't someone call the cops on this?" I ask Reed when I see it. "Nah, all the neighbors for two blocks are probably here at the party. If you don't want noise from parties, you don't live in this area, and if no one calls the cops about noise, they're not just gonna bust in trying to catch minors. Half these people are probably legal to drink anyway." Just as I'm about to squeeze my way into the crowd and ditch him, Reed wraps an arm around my back, making me tense and shiver at the contact. "Come on, let's go in and try to find the guys." His fingers lightly grip my left shoulder, and my right presses against his chest as he pulls me up the steps, squeezing us both through the mass of people to the door, which is standing open despite all the smokers. Once inside, the noise is even louder but the crowd is a little thinner. The door opens to a hallway with a staircase leading up on the left side, and an open passage to what looks like the kitchen straight ahead. To the right is what is probably meant to be a dining room, but is currently occupied by two long plywood beer pong tables, both of which are in use and surrounded by crowds alternately cheering and taunting the players. The room on the left looks more interesting to me, a huge open living room that seems to take up the whole West side of the house on this floor, and which has now been turned into a dance floor with flashing lights and an actual DJ, plus a small sitting area toward the back of the house. Reed guides me through to the kitchen first, which I guess is a good idea. As much as I want to get away from Reed and disappear into the party, I also want to get a drink, and those are probably in the kitchen. Anyway, I kind of like the way his arm feels right now and I'm trying not to read too much into that. I'm also kind of liking the way he's showing me off to the people he knows we run into along the way. Sure, he's saying, "this is my little bro, Devin," but with his arm wrapped around my back, and his other hand cupping my chest with each introduction, I can almost forget he's saying the "little bro" part. Once we're in the kitchen I spot Toby, along with Jake, John, and a couple of pretty girls, standing next to a counter covered in bottles. Reed drags me over to them. "Hey, guys, sup!" My brother beams at them, "This is my little bro's first college party so let's make sure it's a good one. Let's do some shots!" şişli travesti John cheers at that and pulls a bottle of tequila from behind him, along with a stack of plastic shot glasses. He lines them up on the counter and expertly pours seven shots to the top. "To popping Devin's cherry," he yells. A few people around the room cheer and laugh at that, and I blush but raise my shot and take it with the rest of the group. It's not good tequila, it tastes like sour piss and fire, but it feels warm in my stomach and the cheerful mood is infectious, so I smile after throwing it back. John and Reed slap my back, and I suddenly realize Reed's not holding onto me anymore, and miss the warmth. Reed goes off to get us a couple of beers from the keg, and I stand with the others. The two girls are introduced as Jessica and Kaitlyn, and Kaitlyn, a short blonde with a curvy figure and pretty face moves next to me and puts a hand on my arm as she talks to me about herself. "Don't bother, Kait, Dev doesn't play for that team," Toby says from across their little circle, winking at me. "Aww, what a shame, he's cute!" Kaitlyn pretends to pout, before smiling back at Toby. I feel flattered, but also a little sting of jealousy at the way she's now looking at Toby. Reed returns and passes a red Solo cup to me, squeezing between me and Kaitlyn. I take a sip and wince. The party may be bigger, but the beer is the same cheap shit I'm used to, probably Busch Light or worse. I force myself to take a few more gulps anyway. "Hey, slow down, Dev, the party's just getting started," Reed tells me. "I told Dad I'd look out for you." "It may be my first college party, Reed, but it's not my first beer. I know how to drink." I chug the rest of the cup just to prove my point. Reed looks surprised but he's still smiling and he chuckles, "Oh-hoh, okay then. I didn't know you'd become such a party animal since I moved out." His smile-or maybe it's the shot and the beer-makes my stomach do something weird. "I'm going to go get another beer," I say, walking off before he can say anything, but I hear Jake saying, "dude, you're brother's actually pretty cool for..." as I head toward the keg. There are actually four kegs, it turns out, set up in a row on the back porch just outside a door from the kitchen. There are a few people in line to fill up their cups, and there's also a smaller group than out front smoking here. From the smell, they're not smoking cigarettes. When I've finished tapping a beer, I peek my head inside to see if the coast is clear. My brother seems to be pretty deep in conversation with Jessica and facing away from me, so I walk through the kitchen into the beer pong room. I don't really want to be here, but it was the quickest way to get out of the same room as Reed. I slowly squeeze my way through the crowd around the tables, only spilling a little of my beer, and make my way out, past the front door, and into the living-room-turned-dance-floor. I'm not really drunk enough to dance yet, but that seems to be okay. There are a lot of people standing around the edges of the room, either chatting with someone or just watching others dance. There are probably more people watching than dancing to be honest, but I guess it's early in the night. At the front of the room, right in front of the DJ, there's a group of five or six girls dancing with one guy to a Years