Frat Tales: All for One and One for All Pt. 1

 

Including original Author's note for backstory:

A/N: So a few months back @warping-realities on Tumblr drops Bond(ing).sys and all it's parts on me, inspired by Himbogatchi. And I devour it, I mean, age progression like evolution, guys getting hotter, father and son dynamics. That's my kryptonite y'all. Where's my sequel, I'm ravenous!!! But no way I was just going to lie down and take that.

So my good sir, I raise back to you a story inspired by the βΓΦ series Specifically, βΓΦSTRUCTIVISM, with inspiration form the others. Really tried to emulate those stories, hopefully my narrative voice was able to capture that somewhat. I had actually had been thinking of writing something inspired by those stories for a while and Bond(ing).sys gave me a great excuse to do it!

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PART 1: A Warm Ending, (Alt Title: All for One)

All beginnings start somewhere, someday, at some time. The variables may shift, rainy mornings, cool evenings, warm nights. In a crowd, or by oneself. The origin of this story, however, started months ago and perhaps even long before then. The setting? A college campus like any other, numerous buildings dispersed about the large area. Students bustling to and fro, classes ending and starting with a tick of the minute hand. Books shoved away to be retrieved at a later time, or purposefully ignored, papers for reports scattered away in the wind as young people rushed about.

One sheet was swept up, but not torn, fluttering about, as if guided by an invisible hand. 

No one noticed; they didn’t care. Not the students, the professors, the visitors walking their dogs, nor the cyclists taking shortcuts to work.

Often difficult for anyone to notice when the winds of change have decided to grace one’s presence.

A nice Autumn day, that much like the weather, brought the promise of a warm ending. An ending that no one, not even the catalyst for what would be unleashed on campus could foresee coming. 

The paper finally descended, among a collection of houses scattered about, but all under the college's jurisdiction and ownership. It rolled along the ground, a gentle breeze tossing it about until it got caught on someone’s leg. The figure, undeniably male, broad shouldered, dressed in sweats, bent over and peeled the paper off. His eyes scanned the page, the corners of his lips curling upwards as he read. An opening paragraph about what it took to cause a chemical reaction: molecules colliding with enough energy, breaking old bonds and forming new ones, rearranging atoms into different substances. A lot of other superfluous details as well, but he got the gist. He opened his hand and the paper blew away, carried off.

Gael stood in front of the farthest and smallest frat house from the university: Gamma house. 

Loser Hall.

 The bricks were old, cracked and flaking. The white columns supporting the front looked destined to topple over. One bad storm away from a lawsuit. The university didn’t care and neither did the other frat houses. The other houses were so far away it wouldn’t impede their activities if Gamma house crumbled on the spot. And there was a reason for that disinterest, if only subconsciously. No one cared about the Gamma house losers. 

A frat house of nerds.

Not derogatory if it was true.

Though perhaps ‘nerd’ was too generous, for it implied the boys behind Gamma house’s walls excelled in an area, even if it was only academically. And perhaps that may have been true for the original founders, but that love for academics had dwindled away ages ago. Gamma house had become a refuge for those unfit to go anywhere else. Geeks and dorks had overrun the nerds’ recluse with their obsessions and social ineptitude. 

Ergo, Gamma house losers; Loser Hall.

This wasn’t solely their story though; it was Gael’s too.

They just didn't know it yet.

But regardless of the oddity of others’ behavior toward the place and how much of a social outlier it was in the community, Gael had seen it countless times. The university, the states, the names always changed, but a frat house somewhere, always drew the short straw. 

Whether Gael was partying, or resting in a hammock, he’d get that inkling that he was being called somewhere else. And that day was no different. Gael had appeared for what may as well have been thin air for all those concerned. He moved toward the house. The streets had gone quiet. The campus waited, or rather anticipated, and was rendered unable to act.

The house only had one step, which made it a glorified platform, with a mud covered ‘Hello!’ welcome mat in front of the door.

Gael turned the knob and the door creaked open.

No one turned their heads at the young Hispanic man stepping into their home, decked out in gray sweats. His hair was a mess of dark locks tossed about. Short and wavy ready to fully develop into a mop if left unkempt. A keener eye would have noticed that even in the chaos there was a slight congruence to his disheveledness. His eyes were a shimmering dark brown, now fading, as he stepped into the place. Then there was his face, flawless, youthful, and full of hope. Backpack slung onto one shoulder, closing the door softly with his white kicks. The start of the performance.

The house was cold. Gael’s observation of the temperature. The heat was off on the thermostat. A good choice to wear sweats. The scent of old comics and hot pockets had mixed into the incessant desire of belonging that was palatable across Gael’s tongue. There were no carpets, just hardwood floors, old rugs and several spots where juice, no alcohol, had been spilled and never cleaned. He moved into the house, to claim a room. Walking up the stairs, he passed by previously graduated brothers. Snapshots in time of nerds from bygone eras leading to the most recent with fewer members each time.

Three people sat in the living room, unresponsive to Gael’s intrusion. Kareem was the closest to the door, sitting in a beanbag chair, bundled in a blanket, and gaming. He had been prepared to turn his head and look but a warm bristle on his neck kept him invested in his game. Technically, he was the president of the frat, however, with only one other senior, two juniors, and two sophomores, he was the bill collector. He made sure fees were paid for the frat house, and bills were paid for the house.

It was Kareem’s idea for them to keep the heat off, so that they’d have cheaper bills to pay. However, barely into the semester, and the warm day wasn't transferring into the house's heating. Great to be the first Indian president of the frat, terrible to be the reason for the frat members freezing to death.

Laying on the couch, on the opposite side of the living room, was Layton hand grazing his crew haircut. Shorter was better. No hassle to take care of. Only brown prickles that felt nice to run a hand over. His nose was buried in his phone, watching the latest Nintendo Direct, having tuned the rest of the world out. He knew it was cold but wore shorts and a T-shirt anyway. The reason Layton had joined Gamma house was to unashamedly be a country hick who could indulge in his love for gaming. He was an outlier in his hometown and only expected worse from the city. Gamma house had appeared like a sanctuary to him. Little did he know the place was on its dying breaths. Though it was nice to retreat to a place where you wouldn't be judged regardless.

Chaim, earphones in, danced about, sweeping. Or pretending to. The sophomore knew everything about superhero origin stories but ask him to perform a basic function and he drew a blank. It was astounding that the Japanese-Jewish kid had more muscles than most of the guys in his frat when he barely did anything. The world had rewarded him for being inept and was content in doing so. His robe twirled about as he danced though the place kicking up dust. 

The only one to catch a glimpse of Gael was Julien, having poked his head out from the kitchen. He was one of the culprits of the hot pockets smell. While he didn’t think anything of Gael’s sudden presence, there was anger when Julien saw him. Because what no one else at the frat knew was that Julien was better than Gamma house. He wasn’t supposed to be a Gamma Loser. His dad had been the premier Alumni at Alpha Omega Tau. The president over there though was a jealous prick and wouldn’t let Julian join. Julien’s father, however, didn’t believe it and was assured it was Julien's fault, cutting off his allowance. So, Julien had to come crawling to Gamma house, as he needed a name to bolster his resume. 

When Gael walked in, Julien immediately identified the high quality of his sweats and the designer shoe brand. He didn’t know where, but he knew ‘expensive’ when he saw it. So far only Julien was crazy enough to go about every day in a dress shirt and pants, shoes always shined, clinging to a false sense of superiority. Uncouth in Julien’s eyes, even for a kid he knew, to strut in there flaunting what Julien no longer had access to. Waking up in this place was an insult to Julien’s standing in society beyond those four walls. College would end eventually, but as a Junior that meant another year. Julien was well aware his dad had him doing the longest walk of shame.

Flynn and Tomas, a junior and sophomore pairing, were the last to make it home that day. They were in the same D&D group, but weren't friends, barely acquaintances. Only Kareem’s sudden house meeting called them away. Flynn was a tall lanky red head into fantasy and magic, whereas Tomas was a stout brunette dude into the improvisational aspects for his drama class. They walked back together, but not side by side, as streetlights flickered on around them, but silence between them. Flynn removed his elf ears to save further embarrassment even in the nerd frat.

When they got into the house, their necks prickled. Stepping past the threshold was odd. As if they'd come under surveillance and entered something much older than Gamma’s house. 

But that would have been foolish…

                                                                    …to assume only at that moment had it begun. 

The other four boys were in the living room, Kareem setting up a whiteboard in front of the TV. The couch had been shifted to face the board. Chaim walked in from the kitchen, markers in hand, giving them to the president. 

“What was so important you needed us back?” Flynn said, pissed as he tossed his book bag in front of him and plopped on the couch. Next to Layton on the right side. No way he was sitting next to Julien’s pretentious ass. Everyone on the couch was siloed in their own little sections, legs together to keep from the others’ personal space. Except Julien who sat with leg one leg over the other, as if ready to give an interview.

“Bills, probably,” Tomas shared, and sunk into the bean bag chair, book bag still on.

There were groans throughout the assembled people, but Kareem didn’t respond.

The steps creaked as Gael made his way down the stairs, shirtless. The temperature in Gamma house rose as Gael leaned on the wooden newel post, in view of Gamma house’s brothers. His toned body was on display, no longer hidden under his hoodie. His feet were rocking a nice pair of sliders, all the while the outline of his soft cock bulged against his sweats’ thin material. Looks, style, attitude; there was a great disparity between Gael and the rest of Gamma house.

“Ignore him.” Kareem waved off Gael like an annoying little brother to grab back the member’s attention. “We have to talk about revitalizing the frat.” He wrote ‘Revitalize Frat’ in bold perfect letters across the top of the board. “We need to get this frat back into shape.”

Kareem was standing straight tonight, no slouch. Full of a conviction he’d never had before. 

Not even a stutter was uttered as Kareem stood among the members.

Gael shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled into the living room. A smile was on his face listening to Kareem talk about renewing the frat. 

The room was cold. And it wasn't the fault of the steadily climbing thermostat. The young men packed in the room were strangers forced together from survival. There was no love, no bonds forged in fire to unite them together. 

“I’m thinking we hit three areas: Social Standing, Recruitment, Money.” Kareem wrote and underlined them as smaller headers. I want to make sure everyone gets a chance to be heard.

A seed of charisma had been planted within Kareem, as his voice genuinely encouraged and reached out to his frat brothers for ideas. Gone was the monotone's tone with the practiced speech of things to be done. It threw them off guard.

Not Julien though, he had words, “Well, I already tried recruiting and didn’t get any traction.”

Kareem tapped at the board, “Julien, placing one sign in the Student Resource Center is not recruiting.” His tone was sharp and cutting but not demeaning. Kareem wouldn't do that to a brother, but he couldn’t allow them to get sidetracked either. “I figure once we get recruitment, the money should follow, but we do need something to hold us over until then.”

The Gamma house losers thought. Time ticked on and each of them filled up more space than they had previously, their shirts clinging tighter to their chest. Their legs opened, spreading more, and dominating space as their thighs collided with each other. Knees knocked against others and no one minded, not even Julien. Tomas, off on his own, sunk deeper into his seat, as a thicker body weighed him down. 

“Oooo,” Gael snapped his fingers, leaned over from the back of the couch, and barged into Chaim’s and Layton’s shared personal space. “What if we asked Julien's dad for money?”Gael's voice was chipper, friendly, and deceptively innocent. The voice of a naive freshman, pitching an idea way above their station.

“No way!” Julien turned to Gael, madder than before. The dude had just outed him as rich to the frat. He didn’t want them to know. 

“About Alpha Omega Tau?” Gael asked for a statement that had not been said. “He still can't be mad about that. Gamma house was the better choice.” Julien wanted to argue and fight back, the kid had been pissing him off since the morning, but he didn’t. What was he going to say Gael’s outfit sent him over the edge, that’d make him seem like a sane rich person for sure. 

The Gamma house losers watched as one of their own dialed up his father. The air was tense, as the phone rang, but Gael seemed unaware of the memo. Julien’s father picked up and before he could speak, Julien spoke first. “Dad, the frat needs money.” Not an ask. Not a beg. Not even an order.

A statement.

Julien nodded his head, going into the other room with a few ‘Yes, sir’s and ‘No, Sir’s. He walked out quaking, nerves at an all-time high. The boys could’ve pretended not to listen, but they were invested. Meanwhile, Gael leaned on the wall confident of the outcome. Julien walked back into the living room, sleeves rolled up to his fuller looking forearms. His posture was stiffened, but not afraid.

What some would almost call confidence. 

Julien glared at Gael's rehearsed innocent smile. He’d grown up in enough private schools to notice a smug grin peering through a facade. “He’s going to give us the money.” Julien shared, shocking even himself. “I don’t know why though.”

“You're his only son. Why wouldn’t he help to save something that means so much to you?” Gael answered.

“Have you met my dad?” Julien shot back. 

The other brothers erupted in cheer, a unifying celebration. New bonds forming and drowning out Julien’s rebuttal. Gael let it play out, not uttering a word. He didn’t need to. Gamma house was already beginning to think like him. As the brothers with a new inflow of cash began to tackle what was next.

—

 Loser Hall sat alone. A small house, banished from the company of its fellow frat houses. The sun rose over the property revealing a scene not quite aligned with the previous days. A wide green yard, with a structure that needed modest renovations but was surviving. The campus was different; the air had a jolt of electricity that gave everyone a pep in their step but also alerted them. The brisk air inside the house took its last breath–disinfected like a gnat. 

The Gamma house boys moved differently today. They weren't afraid to take up space, hovering to themselves or dashing about as usual. Their new walk was a stride, repressed self with unfurling like air from a compressed can. When they met each other on the quad they linked up and laughed together. Not fake. Not robotic. They were a unit. A brotherhood.

What most noticed as a passing thought, was how similar the Gamma house boys looked to the freshman wandering about with them, Gael. His name was common knowledge even amongst the professor, yet no one could state a single class he’d been in. Facts spoke for themselves though, the squared jaws, the tighter clothes, longer haircuts, developed bodies; the Gamma houses loser fit in with him. Their movement, their speech patterns, and inflections with every day that passed became a little less them, a little more Gael.

Gael was home alone— the others had classes —overlooking what had been constructed by the members for the Revitalization. Purely for his own amusement. He already knew it inside and out, his thoughts matriculating into the Gamma’s brains. They were thinking his thoughts and in turn, he could think theirs. Gamma house wasn’t there yet. They needed…momentum. Gael brought frats together by unifying them under—

A knock came at the door of Gamma house, steady and upbeat. Two strong pounds. Gael only paused when he realized he didn’t know who was there. That was new.He stood up from the living room approaching the door, the aroma of change, blowing through the door’s cracks. Not the kind change Gael dwelled in, this change was a threat—no, a promise—to Gael. Hard to decipher. Something gentler, sweeter…dangerous.

Even Gael was not immune to temptation.

He flung the door open. There was an African American young male dressed in a soccer outfit standing there. A navy-blue sack pack strapped to his back as he fiddled with the drawstrings. Ball under his left arm.

“Hi…I’m Dylan Williams.” The boy stuck his hand out, and Gael shook it, excited to see what developed. 

Nothing happened.

That didn't make sense.

“I saw this flyer in the Student Resource Center,” Dylan presented a picture of the Gamma house’s solo recruitment poster a la Julien. A crudely made clip art design with pictures of video games and trading cards. It was as lame as Julien saw the frat. A fair question to ask, if Julien even wanted people to join the frat based on that. “I thought the idea of a frat house around video games and stuff is freaking cool! But I’ve heard people on campus say you guys weren’t recruiting this year and probably going to shut down. I finally worked up the nerve to come find out for myself.”

Gael leaned on the door, toothy grin showing, “You? Mr. Fútbol,” pointed out Dylan’s outfit. “I thought that was cool. What are you a nerd about?”

“Hey, I like video games too. I can be multi-layered.” Dylan said, playfully rolling his eyes, “What about you? How’d you get in, you're a pretty fit freshman for Gamma house from what I hear.”

“I’m a nerd about frats.” Gael answered and Dylan seemed shocked by the good answer. “Also forget whatever you heard, Gamma’s about to go through a whole new redesign and recruitment will be opening back up.”

“Awesome! I’ll look forward to it!” Dylan put his phone away, and turned to leave, but before Gael could close the door he asked. “Will you be there?It’d be nice to see a friendly face.” Sounded more like begging than a question but Gael answered.

“Of course I’ll be there.”

“Good... good.” Dylan said with a smile widening so much he had to bite his bottom lip from smiling more. He walked backwards, swagger in his step “Oh and I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Gael.” Gael blinked, surprised. Has he ever had to tell someone his name? People always knew it.

“Gael, that’s a nice name. I’ll be looking for you.” Dylan turned around and was off.

Closing the door with his foot, Gael tried to process the events. Intrigue stirred in his mind. 

—

The university's Trivia Night was Flynn's time to shine, the theme: Magic and Fantasy. It was the frat’s first foray in revitalizing their Social Standing. Trivia Night was lame to a degree but held once every month and attended by a significant amount of underclassmen. Gamma house had an opportunity to really wow them. 

Flynn was excited. He had an entire costume ready, An elf from Lord of the Rings. That he swore wasn’t Legolas. Gael didn't comment on it. Neither did the other members of the frat. They let the night arrive undisturbed. Flynn ran around before they left, upset. He tugged at his suit stumbling through the frat house. Everyone stood by the front door, waiting. 

“I swear, it fit this morning!" he said, as the shoulders ripped along the seams. Hearing it, he twisted about causing more tears along the outfit he and his friend had carefully crafted. “What the hell?” he retreated upstairs as the guys saw his pants split. A few minutes later he came down with the only outfit in his closet that would fit; a black t-shirt and shorts choked out his body. His face was dejected as he left. Outfits were a comforting solace like armor when growing up. A new mental note popped into his head: the outfit was like old skin that didn’t quite fit him anymore.

“Cheer up, it’s probably just the protein showing results.” Tomas clapped Flynn on the back. Their kitchen had become a protein powder factory, small spills on the floor as they consumed copious amounts. One person got the idea after seeing Gael do it and it soon caught on, truly snuck into their routine, like going to the gym. Flynn listened and puffed his chest out more; Tomas did have a point there was a silver lining.

Gamma house stormed the Trivia Night. It didn't begin as a quick siege. Flynn knew quite a lot of the answers, but nervous to speak, would wait until most people got it wrong to answer. When people realized who was actually racking up point, the girls started cheering when they saw that bicep shoot up in the air. The support was nice and made Flynn start raising his hand faster to answer questions.

Gael sat in a booth all his own, radiating an energy that carried out through the place. At some time in the night the question’s shifted from Fantasy to Sports and Flynn was still going strong. 

Strolling in late to the event was Dylan, as he spotted Gael with a smile coming over Dylan’s face as he walked closer and joined him in the booth. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” Dylan smirked, sliding in cooly. 

“I go where I”m needed.” He pointed to the Gamma house members, and Flynn wrecking the other teams. They watched for a minute.

“They don’t look like they need help.” Dylan said, turning back, impressed. 

“Believe me, they do.” Gael raised an eyebrow, “Why are you here?”

“Oh, my friends are competing.” Dylan pointed to people waving, who Gael planned to promptly forget. Dylan, however, didn't retreat to return to his friends, instead he pulled closer as if they were whispering. “I don’t really see you on campus, but I think seeing you here is a sign for me.”

“What kind of a sign?” Garl asked. 

“That maybe I should be a bit bolder cause I probably won’t see you again for a while…” He paused, staring off to the side, then blurted out. “Would you like to go out on a date sometime?”

What did Gael think of the question? He didn’t think anything, not negative nor positive. But Dylan was a mystery he’d like to unpack. The intrigue the young man had sparked was growing. “Sure, why not.” Gael said warmly, “The frat’s recruitment party. Let’s just make that our date. Y’know have it be official.”

Dylan nodded like an eager puppy.

Flynn ended the night on top of the world as Gamma house won Trivia Night. He won. The guys sauntered back, swaying, their shoulders leading the way. Their voices carried and people could hear their celebration long before the group became visible. They entered their house, a troop returning victorious from war.

—

Gamma house, seldom called Loser Hall, sat alone. A modest house given proper space from the company of its fellow frat houses. The sun rose on the yard where bushes surrounded the front of the house. A walk through its halls would reward any visitor with the smell of sweat, fruit punch, masculine potential, and burgeoning brotherhood. The tepid air inside was a welcome start to the day, more comforting than finding a lost item.

Chaim was awake early, taking a deep whiff of the new air, living in their walls. He did a morning stretch not questioning why he had so much athleisure wear in his wardrobe. Starting out at 7am he took a morning jog through the neighborhood, shirt off. His body had been running hot all night, and he needed a way to cool down. He didn’t think much of his pec’s jiggling or ass bouncing, in loose shorts as he jogged about. He didn’t have many of the gripes others had concerning their clothes, like Flynn. For the first time in his life Chaim actually had the body of a superhero, or as close as he’d ever been. He could easily pass off as Batman or Superman. As he jogged away from Gamma house that thought got less appealing. 

He stopped for a moment breathing heavily as his chest heaved. Thoughts and memories of comics flew out, his brain replaced with the knowledge of maintaining a heroic body type. Girls walked by whistling and even a guy did a double take. The run began again. Chaim’s legs firmed up into powerful pillars making his strides greater. His ass was ready to debut with him as an underwear model.

The cold morning air felt oppressive, and yet strangely freeing. Like something was watching. No, Chaim knew something was watching. He just didn’t care. The morning wind must have liked it that way because Chaim wasn’t chilly at all. His body was running warm, on a cloudless sky that mocked summer, offering no heat at all. The campus was beautiful and empty, in that quiet scenery that only existed for a few hours. Chaim took his time cutting through, letting invisible onlookers get a view.

A pressure was on his skull as he made his way back home. Skin cleared as his chin became prominent, jaw angles cutting sharper. His lips filled out in a way that only enhanced his smile and kissability. A set of perfect white teeth hid like a secret weapon, ready to blind with a dazzling smile. The features that once fed into other’s assumptions about his awkwardness and social ineptitude were scrubbed clean. What was left behind was friendly and disarming, but also assertive and firm if needed. He carried himself with an air of masculinity tied in every step. The looks and movement of his body were so much more. More Gael. Opening the door, only his eyes told the story of the Chaim who left was not the one entered. Even if no one knew it yet.

The recruitment party was that night. Word got around as if it had traveled on the wind. Gamma House slam dunks on Trivia Night, like a newspaper headline. For once in its history, underclassmen were interested in what happened at Gamma house. All the response for a Trivia Night seemed ridiculous but then someone would whisper “Gael will be there.” And guys knew they needed to go.

Alcohol was at a Gamma house party. That should have been the first and only sign something was off. Layton was passing out beers like it was his day job. If he saw an empty hand in need of a drink, he wanted to fill it. Beers had been stuffed into their refrigerator, but no one fessed up. Unsurprisingly, despite the rounds of deliberation and questioning no one asked Gael. He was the one who mentioned using the party to empty the cans. It’d be a waste to just throw it all out. They all agreed. 

Kareem led his pitch to the first group of guys who arrived. He talked about their interests, and what they had planned for the year. He was on script, having practice with Tomas, when a hand shot up. A sophomore asked about his workout routine and Kareem dove into an entire diatribe, without missing a beat. No need to rehearse if it was etched into your being.

Dylan arrived with a smile determined to see Gael. He had never met someone both perfectly adorable and handsome. He chuckled to himself, “the duality of man.” They had a date and Dylan was ecstatic. He was bouncing out of his shoes fighting not to skip down the sidewalk. Before he even got to Gamma house, he could see people congregating outside. It was so far back it's not like students could pretend to be headed anywhere else. 

He was a bit surprised at spotting the beer cans. Not that he minded, but the way people talked about Gamma house painted a chill ‘dry house’ vibe in his head. Most of the brothers were busy hosting tonight so Dylan had a hard time asking about Gael’s whereabouts. What he saw though was for a frat deemed nerds and losers by the campus, they were all stacked. He found a reprieve chilling by the stairs. As he looked over the crowd, he realized Gael wasn’t among them.

“Sorry, I’m late.” Gael walked down from the top of the stairs. He wore a Gamma house polo shirt and khaki pants with a belt. His voice was richer, rougher—somewhere between Ivy Leaguer and dedicated gym bro. The sweet naivete in his voice had been extracted and dismantled. It always was. The locks in his hair had been cut shorter, a low fade on the sides. His entire body was thicker, veins showing along his arms, chest, through his shirt. The pants were tight on his lower half cinched at the waist, rounded over the ass, saran wrapped to his thighs and legs. 

When he got to the bottom step there was no denying; they stood at the same 6ft. in height. Gael’s face had grown sharper, eyebrows bushier, while his collar appeared to be attempting to choke his widened neck even with a button undone. Gael was undeniably older. The members of Gamma house certainly noticed, but no one said anything. It didn’t seem relevant. He had the grace of a sophomore so that’s how the frat responded to him. His walk was as casual as ever, no steadying steps or body checks. He’d been here before and would be again.

“You got dressed up.” Dylan smiled, the physical changes sailing over his head. Gael could see Dylan wasn’t putting up a front, he didn’t perceive anything off the ordinary.

“Ah, just finally starting to feel more like myself.” Gael shrugged.

Dylan leaned closer, “You mind if we get out of here. Maybe alone.”

Gael smirked, remembering the smell on the wind before opening the door. Just who was Dylan and what did he think he could do to Gael alone? Gael checked around the party, the brothers performing their parts. He nodded, leading Dylan out the back, he wanted to see what this guy could do. This recruitment party wasn’t quite his scene anyway, not yet, but soon. His confident stride and arrogance carved away for them to the back door, unnoticed by Dylan trailing behind.

The night air was good on the skin. Gael took a deep breath stepping into the fenceless wide back yard.Not much, except a few scattered trees and the sky. He spread his arms out feeling the sound and noises of the party, feed him, fuel him.

“Have I mentioned how hot you look right now?” Dylan stated transfixed on Gael.

“I think you kinda implied it.” Gael shoved his hands in his pockets, feet shoulder length apart, chest out. A less youthful version of a posture Gael had done before. But then again it was just another performance.

Dylan ran up on Gael, snatching his hand and dragging him to a tree. “Can I kiss you?” he sounded desperate, starving.

“Uh, sure?” Gael said, not sure how that fit into whatever scheme Dylan was crafting. Gael had drunken kisses with guys before, but Dylan hadn’t even flooded his system with alcohol yet. Were they going to fight with no handicap? Didn’t seem fair to Dylan.

Their mouths crashed together, just once, sweet, innocent, like Gael had been. A shift occurred in Gael’s gut as he realized: there was nothing special about Dylan. No plan to take on Gael, he was just a boy in love who seemed unaffected by Gael’s gifts. In that respect it was odd to have a guy touch him who wasn’t blessed by his gifts. A novelty. One Gael wouldn’t mind exploring. He brought their faces together again for a real kiss, Dylan was sloppy, over-eager and Gael loved every minute of it. Dylan gripped Gael’s ass relishing in it, while pressing into his front mashing their cock through their pants.

Like horny rabbits they were, they pushed down the pants to give each other hand jobs, No one was coming to the back Gael made sure of it. Dylan didn’t last long, perhaps his first real experience with a guy, however neither did sophomore Gael, cumming to the sounds of Dylan’s orgasm. 

Dylan buried his head on Gael's shoulder, “That was hot. Can we do it again sometime?”

“I’d love to.” Gael said calmly, running his hand through his hair, as if it were any other day. But on the inside his heart was fluttering, the taste of a different kind of change on his lips. 

Coming back to earth, Dylan immediately apologized for how he came all over Gael’s black polo trying to clean it off. The polo soaked in the load as if devouring it, couldn’t let free protein go to waste.As for Gael’s load, Dylan had aimed it into the dirt expertly, though a long streak had graced his jeans. After getting situated, they didn’t head back into the party. 

Dylan asked to stay outside and Gael humored him.

“So, tell me about yourself,” Dylan said, climbing into the tree.

“What?” Gael asked.

“I’m serious, where are you from? Your major? Or an easy one, your last name. 

“It’s Gael.” He said flatly.

“Like a statement against your parents? I get that,” Dylan leaned over a hand offered to Gael. “I did... kinda the opposite, hgnh!” He pulled Gael up beside him. “I’m adopted, so I wanted to show a statement to my dad and brother.”

Gael leaned on his side of the trunk’s divide, examining Dylan. He reclined back, his hands behind his head, biceps tugging on his short sleeves. His back was flush with the trunk as if it slotted there and anywhere it deemed necessary. No one asked if the tree had always been that shape or did it rise to his standards? Typically, by this point the world would still. No breeze, no twinkle in the stars, campus noises muted to mumbles. Even at this stage, a mere background player to most, Gael could influence. He stared at the flaps of Dylan’s collar blowing in the wind. There’d be no taste in the night breeze. Not beer. Not the pumped iron. The sky hadn't braced itself. Gamma house didn’t lie in wait. Dylan hadn't approached, drawn to the allure of inviting party lights. He came seeking a boy and walked Gamma house halls unfettered. Nothing had paused, because it didn’t need to.

They didn't speak much that night, relaxing together in silence. A cool night that was slowly warming, but not in the way Gael had expected; he didn't have anything to do with it. The world itself seemed to be playing its own games. 

When Dylan hopped out of the tree, he turned around spreading his arms jokingly for Gael to jump into. A chuckle crossed Gael’s face as he leapt and wrapped himself around Dylan, shocking the guy. Dylan didn’t drop him though, only back up a few inches.

“I don’t feel like walking back.” Gael mumbled, teasing Dylan. He was being nothing more than lazy. Dylan understood the meaning and carted Gael back to the frat, his hands properly tracing Gael’s back and holding Gael’s ass.

—

A week later, Gamma house, once called Loser Hall, rested alone. A medium-sized house given proper space from the company of its fellow frat houses. The afternoon sun had baked the red brick into a healthy vibrant color, while dirt had vanished off the pillars. A free cleaning and repair offered by absolutely no one. The sun’s rays had cooked a special blend of sweat, protein, beer, and masculine excellence. The mild air permeated throughout the house, as if a calling for its inhabitants to embrace dreams deferred.

The interior was better than it had any right to be. Polished floors and grand archways, carefully curated and cared for like a priceless antique. A place that looked more in style with a country club than a common frat house. Surely there were students hoping to get a shot of even one of the rooms for an Instagram photo op.

Tomas was on the steps, cleaning off the Alumni brothers’ framed photos aggressively. He got into a little tiff with his mother after telling her he was dropping his major in Drama for Business. She was not happy about it, asking the dumbest questions about his sudden interest. How would he get a job and pay for stuff if he stuck to a dreamer not doer mindset? Art wasn’t going to pay bills; money was.

While it was Tomas’ duty to wipe down the frames that week, there was a reason he chose to do it at that time. 

He was being nosey.

Gael was currently in the living room watching TV with some guy named Dylan, who wanted to join the frat. Gael knew Tomas was there though. Gael knew a lot. Tomas never questioned how.

What Tomas did question was how did someone, from the loser frat, even as attractive as Gael, pull someone like Dylan? Gamma house, though not considered the losers they once were, hadn't exactly peaked with social standing even after Trivia Night. Dylan had to know he was putting a target on his back. Or maybe it was worth it to Dylan, finding excuses to brush his hand up against Gael’s.

No, it wasn’t a question.

It was a problem for Tomas.

He was a sophomore and from Gamma house just like Gael. That meant theoretically, people could be fawning over him. Grabbing another frame, he mumbled under his breath. Part of him had believed, perhaps foolishly, Acting and Gamma house solely held him back from being the man he was supposed to be. Acting hadn’t helped, but if Gael had someone interested in him even being from Gamma house: that meant the fault ultimately laid on Tomas' shoulders.

Tugging at his Gamma house polo, he pulled it off, tossing it on the steps. The new warmth in the house was a bit much for him. He cracked his neck, traps snapping wider. He grabbed another frame, spraying it down.

“Why’s there so many?” A question Tomas asked only himself at the lowest volume, and yet he knew in the living room, Gael smirked. He paused and stared at the photo, class year in frame. The year was further back than he recalled the frat being created. He took in all the faces.

Mostly young men, smiling, in the prime of their lives. A few were stoic, others looked like…trouble. Their eyes all had the same glint; a special sort of cockiness and pride selectively bred from those in the upper echelons of society. Men for which the word truly was at their fingertips. It was who Julien thought he was. These were young men who grew up to shape everything around them. 

And Tomas didn’t recognize a single one. He had wiped the frames countless times before. Who were these other people? Placing it back, he went to the year the frat was founded. His heart calmed upon spotting the frat founders he remembered, but not for long. They were all there, but something was off.

Hair styled, tousled on others.Skin various shades of tanned. Sharp faces. The way they stood, legs apart, chins up. Their eyes, less kind and fearless. All wearing the same polo Tomas was. Even though Julien’s dad had only delivered the polos recently. And no one cared how Gael had his before anyone else. The founders had all been proper nerds; the whole campus knew that. But here their bodies looked as if the photo was taken after an intense workout, one specifically meant to help with peacocking. It was like a distorted echo of the people who once called the frat theirs. Their posture, their looks, their smiles. They looked less like themselves, and in Tomas’ opinion, thought it sounded absurd, more like a certain someone.

The founders weren’t the founders anymore. They had simply reopened the chapter on campus.

Tomas’ eyes refocused, to his own reflection off the glass. Strong shoulders. Healthy skin soaking in the house’s warmth. Messy hair so unlike his usual style for acting class. Sturdy hands and fingers gripped the frame, not the limber digits of a multi-talented actor. He placed the photo back, only now wondering how high up he was. His eyes scanned his long limbs that had made his task much easier.When had he gone from 5’6” to 5’11”? He caught himself giving the same smile as the boys in the photos.

Gael’s smile.

Walking downstairs, frame in hand, Tomas stood at the living archway, as Dylan and Gael watched a movie. Gael had positioned himself so that this head was in Dylan’s lap, laying down so his hair could be played with. Dylan didn't notice him. Gael pretended not to notice him. Tomas knew that, but how did he know that? His eyes went to the photo. 

The ten young men who started the frat. 

His own reflection.

He briefly turned back to the strangers lined up in frames across the wall, standing proud for a legacy that was not their own. 

They all bore a shocking, almost unifying, resemblance to Gael. Logically it made no sense, but Tomas could just see it; Gael inside all of them.

“Hey Tom, you need something?” Gael’s words were not a question, but a rebranding statement. In less than five words, Gael had spoken a new name for the young man. Dylan waved hello.

“No, I don’t need anything,” He threw the cleaning rag over his shoulder with a swagger he didn’t remember having. “I finished with the frames and wanted to see what my brother was up to. He put his hands on his hips.” He spoke with a familiarity that didn’t give in.

Gael gave a small nod. Approval. He appreciated the tone.

There was something between Tom and Gael. Not whatever, was between Dylan and Gael, that was a completely different matter. What was occurring in Gamma house involved everyone and had serious ramifications. Though Gael lay there like a house cat, Tom couldn't shake the suspicion a wild apex predator had entered their home. 

A moment came, Dylan leaned forward and kissed Gael’s forehead. Gael’s attention shifted completely to purposefully give it to Dylan. Tom felt the spotlight of Gael's gaze, the house, and the world leave him. An opportunity to run, to save himself, if that were possible. At the very least prevent it from getting worse. He didn’t move. Tom had never been on stage, only had the fleeting memories of a person who once was. The cold darkness of a lost spotlight struck fear into him. Even if he was no longer an actor, he was a performer through and through. His role: Frat boy. He could do that. Gael's attention returned after cute banter with Dylan. Tom hid his smile as the warmth of the spotlight found him again. He had a part in this play.

Gael looked over at Tom. No judgment or analysis. Dissecting. Tom knew straight away. Gael’s gorgeous dark brown eyes that Dylan was getting lost in were false. Or at least there was more to Gael. A hunter was at work behind those windows to the soul. They were typically the first part in his trap for the luring. Dylan, however, was not drawn to Gael in the same way Gamma house was, therefore eyes were just eyes. Tom realized he was dissecting Gael right back. His own eyes ‘saw’ much more than he ever thought they could.

A chuckle was all that left Gael’s lips, before he closed his eyes and leaned into Dylan’s hand. Tom stood at the threshold feeling fingers dance across his scalp. Then, Gael turned his head and pressed into Dylan. Tom could smell Dylan's crotch, as if it was under his own nose. He walked away cock hardening, like he knew Gael’s cock was. He had his answer.

—

Gamma Haus, a large dwelling, at the edge of campus, demanded space from its fellow frat houses, standing alone. The faint smell of sweat, alcohol, pizza, and expensive cologne leaked out the open window to entice the noses of any passersby—like a freshly baked pie set to cool. Even with a window open, the air inside was toasty, muggy even with how quickly sweat evaporated off the brothers' bodies. 

They were all gathered for an early morning house meeting. Each one of them in various stages of undress, with no shirt or shoes after all waking up and finding nothing fit. Gael told them not to worry their clothes would fit soon. They listened. Still though that wasn’t a solution for the meeting, some attended in shorts, the rest going for underwear.

The couch was larger than it ever had been taking up most of the living room, bean bag chair banished to the back coroner. None of the brothers would notice because they were still packed like sardines, their bodies needing extra space. Layton and Tomas sat on the left and right arms of the couch respectively. No one cared if someone’s arm was across the spring of the couch, if someone’s body leaned into another’s, or the fact Layon and Tomas' crotches were inches from their faces. They had finally come together as brothers.

REVITALIZE

The title sat on the board. They had the temporary boost from Julien’s dad. Money secured. Social Standing was only on the rise since Trivia Night. More girls were stopping the brothers on the way to class, and the underclassmen were very interested in pledging next semester.

Kareem explained this more in his skimpy teal boxer briefs. They weren’t supposed to be skimpy, but with the way his body had grown that’s all they could be. He walked about, glutes pushing up with every movement as the house strummed in tandem with his steps. Their waistband had a silver finish that obscured his v lines’ trajectory, but the throbbing bulge made it very clear. Obscene for anyone but brothers to see such a sight.

Gael watched, from behind the couch, back leaned against a wall, lightly banging his head. He wasn’t bored, an imperceptible smile on his lips, simply performing boredom as he always did around this time. Not the time of day. The moment. The moment before it all changed. His eyes wandered around, board games, and trading cards—expunged and denied access like the VIP section of a night club. Bookcases of junk and D&D terminology, replaced with grand Alumni book donations, dictionaries and encyclopedias, more for show than actual use. The dining room was large enough to serve a king and his knights.

As for Gael himself, he had changed. Skin darker, sun kissed from the glow of healthy time spent basking away doing activities. A few inches taller at 6’ 3”.Hair hidden under a backwards white cap with non-Gamma house letters. His face was broader, structures firmer, eyebrows resembled stuffed caterpillars. Stubble had encroached and claimed Gael’s jaw and upper lip. Mass had found a home in his body and his muscles. He wore a tank top having forgotten the polo. His arms wouldn’t fit anyway. Besides, the current white tank carved perfectly into his body, falling into all the right abdominal and pectoral grooves. A small necklace, bearing the symbol of a deity he didn't believe in, rested on his chest. Pecs threatening to drag it under. His dark blue shorts looked pulled down specifically so that the top of his underwear could show. He walked around in his black sliders and white socks, feet too wide to not alert his oncoming approach. The love child of creatine and protein powder. The looks of someone just a bit more than a college junior.

He soaked in the sight of the Gamma house brothers’ togetherness, and there seemed to be more of the current Gael, with every passing second. 

“I’m sorry. Are we boring you?” Julien stated, cutting off Kareem’s speech.

Gael smiled. That was his signal. “Boring me, no. But you might bore yourselves to death.” He calmly moved to the front, ripped arms owning the room. His practice nonchalant motions ingested swiftly into the frat’s collective psyche. While the brothers chose not to comment on Gael’s changes, they were quite oblivious to their own. Picking up habits and modeling behaviors Gael demonstrated at his leisure.

“It’s October guy’s, What better way to increase our social standing, than a Halloween Party! We’ll invite the other seniors and juniors, maybe see if they want to join?” He drew a large pumpkin on the board. He took another look out at his brothers. Some were mostly the same, but others had darker hair, and tans settled into their skin. 

Layton was one. His brown hair, now closer to black sat on the top of his head like a locker room mop. His history of avoiding the outdoors was hard to find on his toasted skin. He volunteered to speak to the wrestling team and rugby team as if he knew anything about sports. But everyone's mouth seemed to be offering places outside their wheelhouses. 

A country hick, like Layton knew danger. He had a big danger in his pants girls had been terrified of even since he tried to use it. That big danger only seemed to be getting longer and fatter, sending any prospects of intercourse to a whopping zero.

But Layton knew other dangers as well. 

One as simple as admitting he didn’t like hunting when he lived in his hometown. And more complex ones that came with a pearly smile and workout routine.

For once though, this danger promised something on the other side beyond comfort. That if Layton took a leap he’d be rewarded greatly: Be more like Gael.

Maybe that was why he’d worn loose shorts without underwear to the meeting. His cock was in full view from where Kareem was standing now. Layton found he didn’t care. Even as a drop of precum dripped from the tip of his dick infusing into the arm of the suede couch, unnoticed.

Not even looking, Gael noticed. 

Layton’s cock bobbed. a visible motion in his shorts. No one's attention was on it all either excited or annoyed by their invitational task

“We should uh…invite Dylan.” Layton barely spent time with the freshman, but the thought passed by in his head. A lot of thoughts did that these days, but it was the first time Gael’s head snapped to Layton, shock on his lips, mouth slightly open. The other brothers agreed, taking a swift vote on it, Gael didn't vote at all. “Who’s going to invite him?” Layton continued.

“I’ll do it.” Gael's voice cut everyone else's down before they could discuss it. He was the only one without a task to invite. A fact the brothers had failed to notice prior. 

The meeting broke, the other brothers scattered, most returning to bed. Layton, however, headed for the kitchen. His cock slapped against his inner left thigh, as he scratched his chest. He wanted a morning protein shake, but it was best to do it before others came to the kitchen. The kitchen had become their protein dispensary factory for all the shakes they had stocked. More protein particles than dust filling the air. As such it was best to avoid the ‘biological warfare’, when protein escaped a fellow brother’s ass cheeks. 

He chugged his shake letting the viscous liquid slip down his throat with great gulps. Tasted like chalk and imitation chocolate. An image flashed in his head — a desire not his own: Dylan cumming down his throat. Layton coughed, eye lids shooting wide open. He pounded his chest, hard meaty thumps to right his breathing. Each slap echoed stronger in the room as his pecs grew greater, hands heftier. His cock leaked a snail trail into the floor, shimmering under the kitchen lights. Squatting down, Layton’s ass felt heavier as he cleaned up his mess. 

“Christ,” He got up and tugged on the back of his shorts, ass jiggling. He shot the dirty napkin into the trash can. Getting it perfectly, he headed out back into the living room. Sipper straw in his mouth, Layton paused upon finding Gael sitting in the open windowsill, one leg beside him, the other resting in the house. A gentle breeze blew a tuft of hair poking out Gael’s hat. Right arm over his right knee, his fingers danced as if playing an instrument. His slides lay abandoned on the ground. 

Layton’s throat tightened. The words he wanted to say caused a traffic jam in his vocal cords.He squawked something similar to a “hey.”

What Layton wanted to do was blame Gael for what happened in the kitchen: The sudden thought of Dylan. Reason would have declared that impossible, but reason had long since been rejected by the frat brothers. They stayed there. Silent. Understanding.

Shoving hand into his pocket, Layton turned away, back to drinking his protein. Gael thought about a lot. What transpired in the kitchen was not solely Gael’s doing. Layton was the one chugging, the shake. The thought was born purely from his own head. And because it was his own thought, it was Gale’s thought too. His mind was Gale’s mind. 

Real men didn’t concern themselves with shit that didn’t matter.

Layton accepted the unsaid phrase. Besides If he wasn’t a real man yet, he was sure he would be soon with Gael around. Gael’s smile crossed Layton’s lips, as he walked upstairs, the Alumni watching him. He stopped at the top steps, lips faltering only for a moment, as he remembered the team meeting. Dylan’s invitation being spoken had been a surprise even to Gael, a thought slipped into the brothers they ran with. 

Layton ignored it and shoved it so far in the back of his head, he didn’t think about it until he was drunk upside down on Halloween chuggin’ a keg. Even wasted, Layton heard Julien whining about some freshman. A smirk was on his lips, fumbling about, he knew Gael would fix it. He walked to the front yard away from the party. He found a tree he could properly throw up behind. Great idea for the previous class to plant them. His head turned when he heard whispering.

Dylan and Gael sat on the porch wall. A porch wall that had always been there surely. Dylan slapped Gael’s muscle tits and laughed saying “milk jugs”. Earlier that night for Halloween Gael had descended from the stairs dressed as a preppy frat boy. He dubbed it: Gamma house Loser fit. He had removed his hat, revealed a clean cut, and shaved his stubble even to put on glasses. None of the brothers commented, but who’d be crazy enough to call Gamma house, losers? They needed members of course. But now finished upchucking at the party with all the guests, who didn’t want to join…what was their house again? He was too fucked up to remember. 

The two young men sat on the porch undisturbed and Layton understood, Gael was running the party, even without his attention on it. 

And then Layton saw it. Gael smiled. Not his approval smile. Not his ‘hearing the answer he expected’ smile. A genuine smile. This was a different kind of genuine than his mischievous little ‘I know something you don’t.’ he reserved for the frat brothers. This was genuine happiness. Sincerity. Earnestness. Reserved for Dylan.

A small step forward then another. Layton was amused, like watching a version of himself up there with Dylan. Imagine seeing happiness on your own face, through another’s eyes.Gael knew he was there, what didn’t the freaking junior classmen know?

Gael’s smile dropped as Layton came from the shadows. Dylan turned in response, seeing the shirtless firefighter step into the light.

“Hey isn’t that Layton? We should take him inside and get him to his room. He might hurt himself out here.”

“He’s fine.” Gael waved it off. “Go to your room.” 

Clear. 

Firm.

An instruction.

Layton moved less floundering than before, but Dylan was at his side scoping up and arm. Begrudgingly, Gael took the other side.Layton’s heartbeat fast as Dylan snuggled up beside him. They put him to bed on his side and watched him for hours, Layton didn’t sleep though. He pretended to. Instead, he watched hoping to see the expression on Gael's face. Almost felt like his own face. 

“So,” Dylan nodded towards Layton, “You like any guys, in the frat. Think they’re hot?”

“Why, you jealous?” Gael teased, leaning forward.

“Maybe a little.” Dylan admitted. 

The playfulness cracked a bit as he leaned back and offered an answer sincerely: the truth. “Don’t be. I mean the guys ARE hot, but it is not like with you. I’ve been with guys like them in the past and it’s…like dating myself.”

“And I'm different?” Dylan said in disbelief. “What about girls?”

“Well, I don’t know them like my brothers, but if they approach me, I typically know what the deal is.” Gael shrugged. “With you it’s…fun, having someone that can surprise you.”

A pause between them.

“I like you, Gael. I like you a lot.” Dylan’s voice wavered. 

Another paused.

They kissed.

As their lips parted, Gael eyes stayed transfixed on Dylan. A kiss he couldn’t predict, now that was amazing. “There is one thing I have to ask you,” Gael held Dylan’s hands, standing taller and wider than him, “Do you really not notice anything different about me?” 

Dylan blinked as the word met his ears, his hand cupped Gael’s face running along his jaw. Gael closed his eyes, reveling in the touch, “Now that you mention it, your facial hair is coming in pretty quick.”

Another smile on Gael lips, the house gave a groan from the party downstairs, as if exhaling in solidarity. Dylan could notice. Which Dylan could possibly even understand.

One day.

Gael still had work to do, 

What would that mean for Gael to be understood?

This party was just a preamble, a test run, to warm up gears for the big end of the semester blowout before winter break. The energy around the place flowed into him like a battery storing its own overcharge. As the two talked, the night faded into mystery. Gael’s body rumbled and grew.

—

SIGMA House, a frat mansion whose kingdom began at the end of campus beget its space by mere existence alone. Other frats didn’t have the right to be in its presence. The long hallways and multiple rooms were baked with various scents. The most notable one, expensive cologne—the kind that had to be gifted from one friend to another. Old scents so expertly created the scent lingered, ages after use seeping into the wood. Then, there were unshakable hints of metal laying in wait alongside the work out bars and dumbbells but also collected assortments of watches stowed on dressers. The final layers were a combo aroma of sweet and salty from mixed drinks, desserts, and junk food. The temperature was just right; perfectly homely. 

Julien opened the door, dressed in a Sigma tank top and Khaki shorts. His white sliders glided him across the floor. Disappointment overtook his face when he found Dylan standing on the other side. He didn't even listen to Dylan's question. The freshman was a freaking staple at their house. Why?! They hadn't even selected pledges. But yet this guy got a free pass. 

He stepped aside, opening the door more as Dylan walked in properly. 

Like clockwork, Gael stepped in from the kitchen, protein shake in hand. His chest entered before he did. Standing at 6’6” he walked like a soldier with purpose, feet slapping on the floors. He was broad shouldered, shirtless, with a fine layer of hair on pecs tracing down his abs under his shorts. A well-groomed light beard adorned his lower face while his eyebrows were edged to perfection. The hair on his head was styled, pomade drowned and combed back with one curl sitting on his forehead. Looksmaxxing at 110% He was a caricature of a frat boy. An exaggeration of a college senior, if he could be called that. His body screamed beefcake, grad student. 

Julien rolled his eyes; Everyone knew Gael let Dylan come and they all just accepted it. SIGMA was the premier frat on campus even his father, a former Alpha Alumnus couldn't believe Julien got in. But there was Gael disrespecting their foundation. If Julien ever brought it up, Gael just gave him that dumb tipsy grin and nodded. Now Julien didn't hate Dylan, he wasn’t sure he could, but there were unspoken rules that should have been followed.

Gael was a senior brother though, so technically, Julien had no right to order him to do anything, and Kareem wasn't invested in it either. Kareem would tell Julien to get over it because they had a party that night, one Gael was looking forward to.

Julien threw his hands up in the hair, turning around, was he the only one who cared about the frat?! No talk about the alcohol bottles being left out, or how the brothers were snoring like backup generators lately.

“Oh Julien,” Gael snapped his fingers as if something had come to him, just before his frat brother could step away. “I completely forgot to invite Alpha Omega Tau to the party. Do you mind doing that for me?” 

A scowl was on Julien’s face that the other two in the entrance hall couldn’t see. Impossible. When did Gael ever forget? It made more sense he simply didn’t do it so Julien would have to. Upsettingly, Julien had no right to refuse what, on paper, was a reasonable ask from a senior brother.His fist balled up as he walked away spitting out a “Fine”.

Gael was smug watching Julien go into the kitchen, before leading Dylan upstairs to his room on the third floor. Moaning grew louder as they made their way up, a girl was having the time of her life. Layton had finally found a girl to stick his ‘danger’ into and would be finding many more. Dylan was stunned, pausing to make sure he was hearing right. Gael chuckled and pulled his hand until they were in his room. The door closed and the outside world muted to barely a whisper. Gael didn’t need his door open to know what was going on in the frat.

Dylan acted first, pulling the taller Gael into a kiss. He backed Gael up to his large king bed and pushed him down, climbing on top as they made out.

A question danced in Gael’s mind: What was Dylan seeing right now as their lips met? Did he see the freshman he fell for, or the senior he was practically resting on? He was excited to find out eventually, but before that he had a job to finish. 

The kissing stopped for a moment, Dylan’s face looked troubled, “Hey, I'm not getting between you and your brother, right?” Gael tilted his head on the bed, curiously. “Julien, didn’t exactly look happy. Is this about me asking you not to wear shirts?”

Gael’s cheeks puffed up before the laughter escaped. Loud and boisterous. Could have muted the moans all by itself. His entire core was involved, diaphragm put to work, abs showing off uncontrollably. When stopped he said, “You want me to put on a shirt. I’ll put on a shirt.” and expertly slid Dylan off him with two hands, before retrieving a freshly ironed polo. 

As it dangled in the air, off the hanger, it looked small next to Gael’s body. He put it on and the shirt sat like a responsibility his body didn’t want. As if there was no way the shirt should have fit and only did because Gael willed it so. The poor fabric was wheezing for dear life; vacuum sealed to his body. Dylan whistled at him, as Gael moved back, to kiss on top. But Gael knew Dylan didn't need to worry about Julien. Julien was a special case.

Julien was raised from birth to be a part of Alpha Omega Tau. There was a legacy there. He knew all the ends and outs of how that place worked. Then add to that the privileged lifestyle he led up until college. Julien had come to think he deserved Alpha Omega Tau. He was a prototype frat boy before even becoming one. The president of Alpha Omega Tau was a dick. No lies there. But he hadn’t been wrong to reject Julien. It didn’t take any sort of genius to see the ego and arrogance radiating off him. Not the kind that thrived in frats and pushed people forward. The ones that destroyed and dismantled brotherhood. Where ‘WE’ became ‘I’.

Gamma house only accepted him because it needed another body and was barely a frat to begin with. How could he dismantle what wasn’t there? A place where people were already in it for themselves, Julien had nothing to strive for.

SIGMA house was a different beast. Gael was a part of this frat and if Julien wanted to be a brother here. He needed humbling. A different kind than what his father tried. No, this one was solely born in response to Julien’s father. Even if the world changed around him Julien clung to Alpha Omega Tau as his lifeline. As if that was the pinnacle all frats should aspire to because his father told him so. And because of this delusion, he had not reached the conclusion his brothers had come to long ago. About themselves. About Gael. About their brotherhood. The pedestal he placed Alpha Omega Tau on needed to be shattered. 

Downstairs, Julien swallowed a shake. He hated the vanilla flavor; he hated the taste. He hated the ritual. Then he was going to work out for an hour to keep his body in shape. He hated that too. There was no way the guys at Alpha Omega Tau were doing the same insane things. The only reason he put up with it was that he didn’t fall behind his brothers. He’d drop dead if there was a day Flynn looked better than him. He was the hottest Junior, everyone knew it. 

Slamming the empty, plastic container in the sink, he walked to the bathroom to freshen up. He’d pop over to Alpha Omega Tau for the ridiculous humiliation ritual Gael wanted him to perform. He may have been a Sigma brother, and envy of other frats, but these were the Alphas. He combed his hair perfectly, parted to the left. It resembled Gael’s current hair, but better. He made sure he had plucked a fresh workout shirt to meet with the other frat. His body hugged clothes in a way no other Sigmas’ did, though maybe Alphas could pull it off. He shucked off his shorts and shoes, putting on workout attire, then sweats clothes, before heading out with a gym bag in hand. 

The plan was simple: pop in for a quick Sigma house invite, then pop out back out and head to the gym. No reason to stay longer than normal. The outside air was cold, but the Sigma branded attire kept him heated to the same perfect temperature in their home. His walk was shorter than expected as if the breeze at his back was blowing him forward. Soon he stood in front of Alpha Omega Tau.

A perfect house, a perfect yard. And yet Julien was a little underwhelmed. The house was less imposing, the yard less grand than Sigma’s. When Julien first came there three years ago, Alpha Omega Tau gave the vibes of a lost condensed city of young men plopped onto a college campus. He walked forward, shoulders leading the way, bag brushing at his side, a temptation to ditch the side quest and go to the gym.

He knocked. The door opened. An unknown tiny freshman was there, eyes wide. He knew it was a freshman because he had the same annoying doe-eyed boy look Gael had. He didn’t know Gael as a freshman, but he could imagine it.

“It’s Julian from Sigma house!” The freshman shouted back. A mumble of voices that boiled down to one thing: invite Julien in. Julien wanted to refuse, but the freshman’s eagerness got him inside. The floorboards groaned under his weight—as if frightened. Wood, but not polished, barely upkept. The temperature inside was pleasurable, but not Sigma level. The space felt smaller. The ceilings? lower, with cobwebs hiding in coroners. Cracks along the walls. Dark framed panels of former brothers. No easy way for Julien to admit it, but the house itself felt dead. No life at all, simply presentation. Rigor mortis had set in on an entire building and Julien was trouncing through its corpse. There was no worse or better. This was its natural state.

The house had a meeting area, in the back. From the voices, Julien only expected to see a few, but ALL the brothers were waiting and watched as Julien stepped into the entrance. Based on their seating and the President at the front, it was a house meeting. Julien cursed under his breath he was sure Gael knew there’d be a meeting today, putting him in view of all the Alphas. 

“Good to see you here man!” Julien was roped into a hug by a man he had never seen before. As the guy pulled away, Julien’s brain hitched. This guy looked similar, to the douche that hadn’t accepted Julien in.The answer clicked in his head like an opened canned energy drink in the distance. This guy was that asshat’s little brother, then a sophomore, who had risen in the ranks. The memory just came to Julien, of their frats competing off and on. The brothers here were impressed when he went from an Alpha legacy to a Sigma Legend. Julien wobbled a bit, his shirt fit tighter, his bag’s strap smaller in his grasp.

He had thought the president that denied him was such an absolute unit body wise. But his brother was basically a carbon cut out, same shape and size with just a different hair recolor. Julien dwarfed him, and the entire frat. Julien stood at 6’3” and not a single guy was there who broke 6ft. Not the end of the world, but their bodies weren’t even optimized. Their clothes and polos hung sad and limp on their bodies. No one was spending any time in the gym. They were coasting on gains from high school and for most; it wasn’t holding up well.

“Sigma’s holding a party. You guys should come.” He blurted and turned as the Alphas began to mummer excitedly. They were swept up in the invite and discussed amongst themselves what to bring.

Julien didn’t like it. 

He didn't want to hear Alpha’s talking about Sigma house like it was El dorado. They had it backwards. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. His muscles tensed— as if they too wanted to protest and show them how the frat should carry itself. He was pissed. This was Gael’s fault. Whatever he was. Whatever he did. Julien wouldn’t let the sacrilegiousness go on any longer. Gael had stolen whatever made Alpha Omega Tau tick.

 It had to be him. 

His hand reached for the doorknob to leave but froze. Hanging by the door was a photo of his father. Arlo Reginald McManus. In the photo his dad had a blue blazer, fresh cut, and clean-shaven face. Julien had seen a version of the picture growing up, but his dad always appeared larger than life, even frozen in time. In Alpha house though his dad looked exactly like the young men in Alpha Omega Tau. He was good-looking, but not Sigma house handsome. A step not quite ready for what Sigma house had to offer.

The photo was there as a reminder to Alphas that even their great legacy could improve when they stepped beyond the house walls. How did Julien understand that? Fuck if he knew.

He paused, pulled his hand away from the doorknob, and turned back to the house. His eyes scanned, his ears listened. No sounds of heavy footsteps supported by the floor echoing through, caused by brothers who looked stolen from workout ads. The only smells wafting through the place was midterm stress, and day old carry out. This was not his home. 

Julien's chest pushed out as his back flared. His arms grew snug in his sleeves and his pants looked akin to leggings, with how close his lower half gripped them. Bulk as stubborn as its owner settled within his frame. He finally understood.

Gael hadn't done anything. 

No winds had blown towards Alpha Omega Tau. 

Nothing had been changed. 

This is what the frat always had been. That truth was more devastating, but necessary. The myth Julien had created, crafted from his father’s stories across the years, broke and shattered. The frat he wanted, the one he dreamed of, was coming, but it wasn’t there. His face changed in a split second. He wore a smirk associated with an annoying senior frat brother.Affable and arrogant. Cocky, not pretentious.

He opened the door of Alpha Omega Tau and stepped out, not once looking back.

—

That night, SIGMA House, was a welcoming fortress that reeked of brotherhood. People couldn’t quite pin down the scent. They’d catch a trace of it, in their nose mistaking it for lavish cologne before the result of a hot workout was in their nostrils. Easy to excuse when grinding bodies were all round. The aroma shifted throughout the night but was always undeniably masculine. Inside everyone bathed in Sigma house’s warmth. Outside, the other frat houses on the block were abandoned and left empty—ending for themselves on a cold fall night. The glow of party lights beckoned with the same mystery for flies wandering close to a bug zapper. Danger disguised as wonder. Students across campus made their way inside. 

Gael stood looking out his window, a sharp smile on his face, and watched people migrate towards Sigma house. Tonight was finally here. There’d be no vacant hallways or empty rooms. This place would be stuffed to its limit—a balloon at the edge of being popped. And he’d be the needle that did it. Dylan wouldn’t be there, not yet. Gael had explicitly asked him to show up later. When the party would truly get started. Cracking his knuckles, by flexing his fingers, Gael readied himself as the party poured into him.

So many ways to have fun. Blow it all in one go or savor it. Gael loved both. Watching his brothers become an archetype; a preset; HIM. On a sliding scale, they changed in various ways, at different intervals, if Gael allowed it, but ultimately bringing them all closer to one destination. So many ways to be a frat boy, as Gael phases proved, but being even near one of those Gael’s put them near that ideal. 

The clock flicked over. Double zeros. A new hour. It was time. His cracked door nudged open, as if the house agreed it was ready. Gael stepped out of his room, shirtless once again. People were out making out or plain trying to get laid. There were even other frat brothers snooping through rooms. Gael, however, strolled down the hall then the stairs. Everything inside him was roiling now, aching pleasurably for release. He moved onto the dance floor, the converted living room, bodies parted for him without even knowing why. 

This was what Sigma house needed. It’s what Gamma house wanted. The members of Gamma house didn’t want their experience to mean nothing in the end. They dreamed. They hoped. And with that, they called. Gael could never—would never—resist a request to bring in the party.And for this session he’d played the game ever so patiently but now came the climax.

As he stood in the center, he felt it coming. 

A non-Sigma upperclassman knocked a tiny freshman backwards. The kid stumbled, unable to find his footing and his back collided with Gael’s chest. 

No sound.

No bright light.

No hitch in the world or music.

When the guy stood up, his feet stomped to the beat, several times larger. Shoulders spread and his collar bone wider. Bigger than the Junior who pushed him. Handsomer too. Already wearing Sigma’s clothing.

“Gibbons, you ass!”the newest Sigma brother laughed. Then disappeared, swallowed up by the party.

Gael pulled the crowd in tighter, without doing anything. Dudes and girls were dancing around him. A gentle sway of Gael’s hips, and his tight glutes, knocked over four guys. They fell—bowling pins spilling over each other and clattering on the floor. Some had been in other frats, but when they rose Sigma was etched into their clothing. Whatever baggy shirts they were wearing swapped, Sigma tank tops now on, to show off their gains all living around 230 pounds.

A lithe sophomore with no idea how he got an invitation there, tried to find a reclusive spot at the drink table.

“Have this.” Gael poured him a cup with a smile so gregariously, there was no way the answer would be no.

The young man accepted it with a tight smile. He took a tiny sip. It hit the back of his throat and fell into his stomach. When his hand lowered, the face was different. Jaw filled in, lips luscious, body solid. The cup was almost empty. A roaring belch escaped him, swallowed into the music, and blended. 

More drinks.

More throats.

An ensemble of burps adding to the beat. 

By the bathroom, a slim senior hopped from foot to foot trying not to pee.He didn’t think he'd make it to any others. It had to be this restroom. He had a major in Bio chem and ran through the periodic table hoping it was enough time. Gael walked subtly, unnoticed. Enough guests as the party pushed and moved past each other. The back of Gael’s hand grazed the guy’s crotch. The dude’s eyes snapped open. No one was there, a body gone in the crowd. His eyes went to his crotch, and he found himself throwing some insane wood.

He didn’t need to go to the bathroom.

He needed to hide his frat boy fuck stick.

Downstairs in the basement, a game of stripping mixed with Spin-the-Bottle. Gael joined in. At some point the girls stepped out. The guys didn’t leave. Gael started off a new round. He spun, landing on their college’s lacrosse captain, a member of another campus frat. Guys jokingly whistled as his shirt came off, not clocking his fluffy hair, reducing to a more manageable state: faded on the sides, fluffing up top. The bottle got spun by everyone in the circle and landed on everyone. Every shirt that got tossed, pants or shorts shed, there was a Sigma embroidered equivalent in its place by the time it hit the floor. When the game ended Sigma bodies and Sigma brothers were gathered around in nothing but their underwear. Gael was nowhere to be found.

Shoulders rolled. A thick neck, leaned side to side. Gael grinned. Release always felt good. He sensed the others Kareem, Layton, Julien, Flynn, Tomas, and Chaim. They could feel it, because he could feel it. The frat coming to life. 

One more. 

An act in three parts. 

For the first time since he’d moved there, Gael physically turned up the temperature on the thermostat. The numbers went wild bouncing all over the place as if trying to gauge Gael’s intention and glitching in response. 

Some guys began to sweat profusely, as they danced, skin glowing under the party lights.

On the upper floors, the guys snooping through empty bedrooms never heard the doors shut behind them pushed by a breeze.

The heat even leaked outside to the few guys among the people standing in the back yard. 

Gael allowed himself to pulse out and flow into the house.

On the dance floor, guys tore at their clothes, burning up. Fabric peeled away, tossed without a second though, as Sigma clothes revealed themselves as a hidden layer underneath.

In the rooms, young men tugged on their shirts, not thinking about the sweat collecting at their collars. They couldn’t open the door, so they went to the window, which opened with ease. A fresh gust of wind knocked them in the face, knocking their doors open. Multiple heads with new faces, looked back out the windows beers in hand and began chugging. Arms flexing, veins rising to the surface.

As for the ones outside in the back, shirts came off. They still didn’t feel better. The gust of wind that cooled off the people above, did nothing for them. Others in the kitchen got involved and carried out 3 different gallon coolers. They dumped it on the guys’ heads, like a boozy Gatorade shower. Whatever weak features the guys had before splattered into the grass with the liquid. Hunched over on all fours, drenched were the last three Sigma brothers. They stood and pounded their chest as if they had just performed a crazy internet challenge.

The brotherhood was complete.

An hour later, Gael sat on the steps nursing a bottle. Though he often was, he didn't need to be at the party to be the life of the party. His essence had dyed enough souls. All those bodies, all those experiences belonged to him solely; All for one. He spotted Dylan approaching. Sooner or later, he’d feel the call again, another frat that would need his influence. But for now, he didn’t mind sticking around

Gael watched, Dylan’s breath burst into the cold air as he spoke.

“Jesus, dude you’re making me feel cold,” Dylan pulled off his coat and threw it on Gael’s shirtless shoulders. Too small to actually pull across. “How long have you been out here? Maybe we should head inside?” Dylan helped pull the large Gael up.

“Hey, you still thinking about rushing…here?” Gael said intentionally not using the name.

“Yeah, I mean it’s not quite what I expected. But it could be fun. Also, you’re here.” Dylan admitted.

Loser Hall was gone, assimilated into the exuberant tapestry of privilege, money, and aesthetics behind him. Traits shared with each of its inhabitants now. What flowed through the walls was a connection that couldn’t be crafted by people who merely tolerated each other. Gael brought them together by unifying all the brothers under himself. 

And Gamma house?

Erased.

Corrupted.

Improved. 

Whatever category it was placed under, one thing remained true: the ending did not come with a bitterness or hard edge. That was for the winter night. Gamma house met its end, in laughter and cheers. The halls of Sigma house had a warmth Gamma house could have never achieved. The six young men who had called Gael were satisfied. Gamma house was no more. Dylan walked with Gael into Sigma house’s welcoming walls. The door shut, sealing off the reality of the biting night air to the world inside. 

The warmest of endings.

---

Interlude

“Wait,” Dylan scratched his head sitting at the dining table. He’d worked so hard to join the frat and went through some ridiculous stuff. Only to have Gael say some out-of-pocket shit. “So, this is really what they wanted?” He pointed to the lavish room around him. Plaques. Workout gear, Brand shoes stuffed away in a corner.

Gael nodded, stuffing his mouth with spaghetti, “Yep to a T.”

He looked around with new eyes. This wasn’t the house he had walked to last semester, nor was he sitting across from the cute freshman he had met. There was a layer of reality that had dissolved for him as if he could see the truth. “Wait and everyone in the frat, is you?”

“Not completely and it’s more like; I’m everyone in the frat to a degree.” Gael put down his fork.

“What’s the difference?”

“Well like, I can feel them having sex, but they can’t feel me if I don’t want them to. “Gael stated a bit too proudly.

“Wait, so if everyone in the frat is you…does that mean, I’m you?” Dylan patted at his chest and pulled at his face.

Gael chuckled. Warm. Infectious. Harmless.

“No, calm down you’re not ‘me’.” Gael reached over and pulled Dylan’s hand down. “We wouldn't be having this conversation because you would just know, eventually. But I can’t affect you.” Then he put up his hands. “And I will admit I did try when we met...and a few times while you were pledging.: He grimaced. “Not that I wanted to be you.” He shook his head furiously. “I was just curious as to why I couldn’t.”

Dylan’s face dropped, before he slapped both sides of it, “You’re telling me I’m soulless.” He dropped his head onto the table.

Gael leaned over, rubbing his boyfriend’s back gently. “That’s not what I said.”

“You’re like some magician frat boys, what am I supposed to think?” Dylan sighed.

Ignoring Dylan’s statement, Gael spoke. “You’re taking this better than I thought and not exactly focusing on what I thought you would.”

Dylan sat up, “Oh you're right, my nonexistent soul wasn’t supposed to be my big takeaway.” He closed his eyes and groaned. “We talked about Kareem’s dick and Layton’s ass. Does that mean they….”

“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. They like you as much as I do.” Gael sat back in his seat. Stance powerful. Magnetic even.

Flynn walked in, scratching his waist abs out, a yawn leaving his lips, headed for the kitchen. 

“Flynn, take your underwear off and give it to Dylan.” Gael said

“Son of a,” Flynn cut himself off, bending over and pulling down his shorts.

“No, that’s okay I don’t actually want your,” Flynn's fiery red pubes cut off Dylan’s speech as he handed over his boxer and pulled his shorts back up. 

“You believe him now?” Flynn winked to Dylan but still gave an annoyed look to Gael. He walked to the kitchen. 

Dylan stared at the undergarment shoved into his hands. “At the beginning of this year I was in love with this cute gut in my class year. Now I have a brother’s boxers in my hand. And my boyfriend’s huge.”  

“I don’t have to be.” a softer voice, but still filled with command, commented.

Turning his head, Dylan was greeted by the sight of the Gael he first met. Messy hair like he’d just woken out of bed. Body trained to perfection, but not quite the demigod it was destined to be. Dylan leaned forward. “You can just do that? I thought to the other guy,” he widened his arms. “The big one, was like your true form.”

“True form, like in a video game? Maybe Gamma house was for you.” Gael teased. “They’re all me, it doesn't matter. Again, your grasp on this is shocking.”

“This is a lot, don’t get me wrong, but It’s like now that you said it. It's so obvious how I did not see it before. My dad would probably lose his shit my brother might think it’s cool.”

“Are they like you?” Gael asked.

“Soulless?” Dylan joked back, spirits already rising. 

“You know what I mean.” Gael rolled his eyes.

Dylan shrugged, “I don’t know. I think they’re just average white guys, but maybe our old home had lead paint in it or something and we’re all weird.”

Gael leaned forward, “This is just a guess, but I don’t think lead paint works that way.” 

“Damn, you must be a real riot at family gatherings.” Dylan said. 

“I don't know. Never been to one.”

“Wait, you’ve never gone home with a frat brother before? But isn’t that a frat boy thing: expensive vacations together?”

Diminished, muscular shoulders shrugged, “Why would I ever want to leave campus. Everything I’ve ever needed is on campuses”

Dylan’s hands slammed on the table. “You’ve never left a college campus?!  We have got to broaden your horizon!”

Read Part 2 Here - Frat Tales: All for One and One for All Part 2