Partying with the Frat Guy

Author's Note: Avoid this story if references to smoking cigarettes and doing drugs will offend you. I based this on an actual organic encounter from my college days, and I didn't want to excise that context. In real life, I left the party when "Billy" drunkenly tried to start a fight with someone there. I've always wondered where his shameless flirting on the balcony might have finally led if his macho side hadn't kicked in as compensation.

I had just finished my shift at a restaurant near the main strip of campus, gleefully walking out the door and immediately reaching for the cigarettes in my pocket. Yeah, I know smoking is terrible, but after a long shift working customer service I don't care about what anyone has to say. This is the highlight of my day after putting in eight hours of labor, my release from all the stress I'd endured slaving away under that roof.

Looking out into the world, I can't believe how perfect it is right now. The temperature feels like 70 degrees, an absurdly blue cloudless sky stretching up above my eyes. Spring was finally here.

Flicking my lighter, the end of my cigarette smolders as I inhale my first puff. All the bullshit finally melts away as I blow the smoke out. The burrito place I work at caters to vegetarians and vegans, and they'd been especially hellish this shift, scores of random people complaining about the food for no legitimate reason, like I have any control over it anyway. Worse than that, I'd been bombarded by people explaining their dietary restrictions all day, solemnly declaring them like they were at confession. How fucking hard is it to read a menu with everything clearly marked? I swear they get off on it.

Whatever. Fuck them all. Another cloud of smoke billows from my mouth as I survey the scene downtown. The sidewalks are teeming with people who have been shut up all winter. They look excited to finally be outside on this gorgeous day.

Off in the distance, I notice a particularly hot guy who's at least six feet tall walking toward me. His t-shirt is tight, muscular quads blatantly poking out of his preppy shorts. I can't help but check him out. His skin is so darkly tanned I decide he must have just spent an entire month on spring break doing nothing but sitting on a beach. The hot guy looks up at me as he comes closer, nodding his head. For a second I think he'd just caught me staring, but he walks right up to me and smiles.

"Hey man, you happen to have another smoke I can bum?" he asks, his intense brown eyes pleading.

I usually say no when people ask, but how could I refuse him? I pull the pack out of my pocket, pressing a cigarette into his raised fingers.

His face lights up like I'd just done him a huge favor. "You happen to have a light too?"

"Oh yeah, sure," I answer, grabbing the lighter from my pocket and igniting the cigarette as he sticks it into his mouth.

"You're fucking awesome, man," the guy says as the first cloud of smoke lists out of his mouth.

"Yeah, no problem." I was expecting him to start walking away to wherever he was headed, but instead he plants himself right there beside me, taking another big puff.

"You have no idea how much I needed this," he says like he's relieved. "We started drinking two hours ago and I finished my pack last night."

I chuckle. "Sounds like way more fun than I've been having. I just clocked out."

His head swivels to the restaurant's sign as he takes another drag from the cigarette. "No shit, you work here, bro? We order catering from this place all the time."

I'd assumed he was a frat boy from the moment I saw him, but the guy's constant use of the word "we" had me totally convinced. Looking down, I noticed that he was wearing boat shoes, a wing tattooed on one of his bronze ankles.

"Your orders are probably way easier than the ones from all the vegan assholes."

The guy laughs as he hits the smoke again. "Fuck that shit! I'd probably get fired in a day rolling my eyes every time some fat bitch mentions gluten."

I take my last puff, dropping the butt to the ground and stamping it out with my shoe. "I've come close way too many times, trust me," I mutter, preparing to step away.

The guy pats me on the shoulder playfully, obviously trying to stop me. "Hey, you seem cool, man. Would you want to go to a party down the street? There's going to be tons of booze and weed there."

I'd just spent my whole paycheck paying rent. I wouldn't be going out or scoring any green for at least two weeks. Now this hot guy was handing me the chance to indulge for free on this absolutely perfect day, when I had nothing else to do? Why the hell not? I looked the frat guy over reluctantly, but I could tell his offer was completely serious.

"Uh, I don't know," I pretend to hesitate. "I just met you five minutes ago."

He smiles as he throws his cigarette down, holding out his palm. "I'm Billy," he introduces as I grasp his hand. "And honestly, some girl I barely know invited me to this an hour ago, so I'm not going to know anyone there either. I think it's going to be all chicks and I could really use some backup."

"Well, I'm Mike," I introduce myself.

"Come on, Mike," he urges, taking a few steps forward and twisting his head back at me. "Come unwind after that long shift, man!"

The guy is so enchanting I can't say no. How could I possibly turn him down? I start following him, shaking my head like I can't believe I'm doing this.

"Yeah, Mike!" Billy whoops. "I knew you were ready to have some fun, bro. You were standing there begging for it!"

"I'm honestly surprised you asked me to come with you. You were just talking about hanging out with a bunch of your friends earlier.

Billy grins. "To be completely honest with you, dude, the chick who invited me has a little coke-and I mean a little. No way I want to share it with a bunch of the bros. No worries if you want a bump, though."

As soon as he says that, I know Billy must be a wild guy. I'd never even done coke, and now I suddenly feel myself hesitating about tagging along. What am I getting myself into? I picture the years of crazy antics this ridiculously hot frat boy has been involved in, and I know he's trouble.

"I'm perfectly content keeping that to myself, man," he adds, seeming to interpret the silence. "You can still drink and smoke your fill. They have good shit there, trust me. Seriously the best."

"Yeah, I'm definitely more cool with that stuff," I answer. Why does Billy seem to want me there so badly? I decide he's just insanely outgoing. He probably randomly meets people like this all time.

"Oh shit!" he calls out. "I forgot there's a Town Pantry over here! I'll pay you back on that smoke right now."

We wander into the convenience store, Billy strolling back to the cooler and picking up a 24 pack of beer. He's holding it up on his shoulder as he struts over to the register.

I watch him smile coolly. "Hey," he greets the girl at the counter, "can I get a pack of American Spirit blue and a few of whatever your best blunt wraps are? And a lighter. One of the good ones."

She diligently reaches up into the display case, pulling out the cigarettes, twisting around to grab the wraps he'd asked for.

"You getting off any time soon?" Billy asks.

I can see him smirking like he wants to fuck her. I can't believe how shameless this guy is, but that's exactly what I'd barged into.

The woman behind the counter laughs like she's drinking up his effortless flirting. "I'll be here for four more hours, babe, if you're still conscious by then."

Billy hands his credit card over, resting his big forearms against the counter. "We might need to come back for more supplies by then," he says, looking over his shoulder at me like I'm complicit. "I bet Mike would love for you to join us.

The clerk looks over at me, seeing the embarrassment on my face, and laughs off Billy's comment like she's heard it a thousand times before. "Sign there for me," she says, pressing the receipt over the counter. "And you boys have a great night."

Billy stuffs the smokes and rolling papers into his pocket, grinning at the woman again as he pulls the beer off the counter. We walk out of the store. As soon as we're past the door, he's ripping the cellophane off one of the packs of cigarettes with his free hand, the case of beer in the other. He pops the top open, drawing two cigarettes out.

"I owe you," he invites, pressing one of them into my fingers.

I don't even want to smoke right now, but I stuff it between my lips anyway. Billy stops, planting the beer on the sidewalk as he holds his hand up to block the wind, lighting the end with his brand new lighter.

I take a draw without even thinking about it, watching Billy spark up the cigarette in his mouth as he picks the case of beer back up

"You really don't even want a little bump when we get there?" he asks, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "You seem cool as fuck. I think you'd like it."

"A couple of those beers and a few tokes and I'll be good, man," I assure him.

"Right on," Billy agrees, slapping me on my back again. "I knew you were the perfect guy to bring."

The drone of music grows louder as we walk further up the street. There are crowds of people standing on lawns everywhere, at least half a dozen parties happening on this block.

"We're almost there," Billy declares.

He walks up to an apartment building, bounding up the stairs like he knows exactly where he's going. He flings a door open and steps right in, half a dozen obvious sorority girls almost squealing the second they see him. "Billy!" they all seem to shout in unison. I could already tell he'd lied about how well he knew these people.

He grins absentmindedly like he's used to his presence evoking this much excitement, dropping the beer to the floor and wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He yanks me forward.

"Hey, this is Mike!" he announces. "He's the cool as fuck guy who works at the burrito place downtown."

All the girls murmur greetings like they don't give a fuck who I am, Billy reaching back down for the case and pulling me into the kitchen. For a straight frat guy, he's touched me tons in the twenty minutes since we'd met, but I guess that's how they are.

"Madison!" he calls out, setting the beer down on the counter. One of the girls looks over at him, smiling expectantly. He pats another one on the shoulder. "Hey, Hannah, makes this awesome dude a super stiff drink," he instructs, instantly withdrawing with Madison to one of the bedrooms. The door shuts.

The girl at the counter beams at me like she thinks I'm cute. "So Mike, what's your poison?"

"Uh..." I don't even know what to say as I scan the half dozen bottles of liquor on the counter.

"You look like a whiskey man," Hannah decides, grabbing a handle off the counter and filling half a solo cup with booze. She grabs an open can of Coke and tops it off, lifting it up without stirring the contents and pressing it into my hand.

"Thanks," I mutter. I feel scared shitless without Billy in the room. This isn't my scene at all. How am I supposed to talk to this chick?

"So how do you know Billy?" she asks, sipping whatever concoction she'd poured for herself.

"Oh," I stumble, "he comes into the restaurant all the time. I saw him walking by right as I was getting off."

She nods her head like she believes me. "You know, I think I've seen you working there actually. You guys seriously have some of the best gluten free options in town."

I take a sip of the drink she'd poured, fearing that Hannah is about to launch into an exquisitely detailed explanation of all her issues with gluten. I almost gag trying to swallow the mixture down. God damn she made this fucking strong! No wonder the greek kids are wasted all the time.

Hannah laughs coyly at me, picking up on my dilemma. "Sorry if I put too much whiskey in that. I figured if you were Billy's friend...well, you know how wild he gets."

"Oh, no, it's good," I lie.

The bedroom door rips open, Billy and Madison stumbling out as Hannah jealously looks over. "The private party must be over," she mutters.

Billy glances at her and walks right up, grabbing her hips playfully. "You want a private party?" he slurs, his mouth turning into a smirk.

She rolls her eyes and slowly pulls his hands off, but I can tell she likes his touch. Hannah had probably always wanted to fuck him. Who wouldn't want to fuck Billy?

"Mike!" he yells even though I'm right next to him. "You want to toke some really good shit, man?" He doesn't wait for an answer, leading me over to the couch. There's a bong and a grinder on the coffee table, a mason jar half full of buds sitting in plain sight. He peers over his shoulder back toward the kitchen. "Hey, Ellie! Is it cool if I load this up again? I brought you some good blunts for later."

I look over to see another one of the sorority girls throw her thumb up at him.

"You're the fucking best, Ellie!" Billy calls back, immediately opening the grinder up and starting to pack a bowl.

I can't even believe a guy like this exists. He'd shamelessly walked into the room and taken whatever he wanted, and no one cared. I know he must act like this all the time. Everyone rolls right over for him. I certainly did.

"She is a stoner's stoner, man," he comments as he pulls the bong up to his mouth. "Always has better shit than anyone in the frat." He flicks his lighter, pressing his lips around the glass cylinder as it fills with smoke. He clears it effortlessly, blowing out a massive cloud as he hands the piece to me.

I'm not as practiced and suave as Billy, but I take a hit too. I start to feel the weed as soon as I exhale the thick curtain of smoke out. He wasn't kidding about this stuff being good. We trade the bong back and forth, each of us taking a few hits. As Billy blows out a final round of smoke, he sets the piece back down on the coffee table.

"How you feeling, Mike?" he asks with a grin.

"Pretty good," I answer, barely saying the words above a whisper.

Billy looks ridiculously satisfied with himself. "You're fucking blazed already, aren't you?"

"Yeah," I admit. I hadn't been stoned in weeks, but feeling the warm fuzziness of the high kick in, I finally feel comfortable being at this party.

"Come on, bro," he orders as he stands up. "Let's go have a smoke."

I don't even want a cigarette as Billy pulls me to the balcony door, but I follow him anyway. He slides it open like he's been here countless times before. I reach for my pack but he bats his hand against my arm.

"You got me earlier," he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cigarettes. "Now I've got you." He hands me one, lighting it as soon as I press it into my mouth.

"Thanks," I mutter.

Billy sparks his own cigarette as he stretches over the railing of the balcony, looking out at the parking lot. "You see anyone you want to fuck in there?" he asks without looking at my face, smoke billowing above his head.

"Uh...they're all pretty hot," I mumble.

He looks over his shoulder at me, a knowing look on his face. "They're all hot, huh?" Billy grins. "You don't want any of them, do you?"

What the fuck does that mean? "What?"

"You don't want to fuck any of those sluts inside," Billy clarifies. "I was watching you, bro. Watching you the whole time. You didn't even check any of them out."

I immediately feel defensive. "No, when you went back...with, uh..."

Billy snorts, blowing out another big cloud of smoke. "You're good, Mike. Relax. You know I saw you checking me out earlier, right? Why do you think I asked you here? Honestly, man, I have about a hundred questions I want to ask you right now. And I'm fucked up enough to do it."

He's scaring the shit out of me. He knows I'm gay? He'd known the whole time? I pull the cigarette up to my mouth without even thinking, just wanting to get away. I look up at Billy like I can't believe he said that.

"Dude, I knew the second I saw you," he says calmly. "We're good, man, seriously. I just want to ask you some stuff."

I hesitantly puff at the cigarette in my hand, feeling like a captive.

"Does it actually feel good getting fucked in the ass?" Billy poses.

Is he fucking joking right now? "Uh..."

"Don't do that," he scolds me. "Chicks never want anal but gay guys seem to love it. So does it feel good getting fucked up the ass or not?"

I realized Billy had this moment in mind from the second he invited me to this party. I think about leaving, but then another thought creeps across my fuzzy brain: is he trying to score with me right now?

Billy sighs like he's annoyed by my silence. "Hey man, I know you're a little fucked up right now, but stop looking so hesitant. I seriously want to know. Does it feel good or not?"

"It feels amazing," I finally reply.

He looks intrigued as he takes another drag from his cigarette. "It doesn't hurt?" Billy asks like he doesn't believe me.

"I mean, at first it does when your ass is...uh...getting used to the feeling," I try to explain. "But when you're finally relaxed it feels amazing."

His brown eyes light up as he peers straight into mine. "Does it feel better than fucking?"

I nervously hit my cigarette. "Well, it's different."

"Different how?" Billy immediately demands.

"Well, I like fucking, but getting fucked...it feels...better I guess? I don't know, maybe I'm just more of a bottom."

He looks fascinated, seeming to know exactly what that means. "Do you think I have a nice ass, man?" He twists it in my direction, the perfect globes of a bubble butt obvious in his khaki shorts.

"Yeah," I admit, feeling my dick stiffen.

Billy throws his cigarette butt off the balcony, turning to face me again.

"You have a place we could go back to, Mike?"

I look around anxiously. Is this guy seriously trying to take me home?

"There's no one else out here, bro," Billy says dismissively. "Do you want to go back to your place with me or not?"

I feel my heart pounding in my chest. "Are you being serious right now?"

He reaches out and grabs my hard dick through my shorts, his eyes fixated on my bulge as he strokes it a few times. Billy looks back up at me as he pulls his hand away. "Does that answer your question?"

He's such a fucking arrogant asshole, but I'm more turned on than ever. I still look at him hesitantly, not believing this is real.

"Dude, I want to try it," he declares firmly. "Right now. If you aren't down to do this with me, I'll ditch you, find some other guy on Grindr, and walk on over to his place instead."

I'm shocked he knows what Grindr is, stunned that the hot frat stud who I'd already witnessed flirting with three girls has an account. But I can tell his threat is serious. Why the fuck not? If he really wants to try getting fucked, I might as well be the one.

"Let's go then," I decide.

Billy grins, sliding the balcony door open without saying another word. He turns back to the girls as we're halfway to the exit. "Hey, Mike has a connect for some more powder!" he shouts at no one in particular. "We'll be back in like an hour."

I look back to survey the faces of the people I'd just met as we head for the front door. Madison looks thrilled, but Hannah looks perplexed, like she can't believe the guy who'd struggled to choke down a cup half full of whiskey knows anything about coke. Whatever, that wasn't my problem to deal with. I'd probably never see any of these people ever again.

I take the lead as we hit the sidewalk, directing Billy to my apartment.

"You have roommates, man?" he asks as he's pulling out another cigarette.

"No, it's a one bedroom."

"Fucking sweet," he mutters, flicking his lighter. "You have no idea how excited I am to finally try this."

"So have you, uh, fooled around with a guy before?" I wonder.