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It was the day Eames had been dreading for 365 days. Ever since he had been initiated into the fraternity one year ago tonight, he had known this day would come. And he was dreading it. The knots in his stomach were proof of his anxiety. Or maybe that was the alcohol. Either way, the only reason Eames was grinning like a loon was because someone had once told him that smiling reduced the urge to vomit.
His hand was pressed against the cold brick of the large dorm, half for balance and half to draw the material’s chill into his body, dampening the flush burning his skin. His eyes were on the toes of his socked feet, which he could see wiggling around slightly as he stared at them. Some of his frat brothers were jeering and yelling loudly at the new initiates being herded into the room, while one of Eames’s friends – who, it could be argued, was far too excited about tonight – kept shaking Eames’s shoulder to hype him up. This just forced Eames to grin wider and nod at whatever the hell he was saying while refocusing on not throwing up. Or running.
The worst part was that he couldn’t even blame the nausea on the alcohol. The alcohol certainly wasn’t helping matters, though it was putting a pleasant haze over Eames’s senses. He could only hope it blocked this night from his memory by the time he woke up with a fuzzy mind the next day. But right now Eames just needed it to relax him and it just wasn’t working. Eames’s thoughts were spinning and tripping over each other, worries colliding and merging into even larger fears.
The problem was that Eames knew what was going to happen tonight, even if the new initiates – nervously huddled together when Eames dared a quick glance up around the room – didn’t have a clue. It was the same thing Eames had experienced 365 days ago; the same thing Eames would never be ready to face again.
“Get those clothes off! Now!”
Eames clenched his eyes closed, trying to keep his breathing slow. The friend shaking his shoulder had finally caught the attention of one of the leaders and been told off – Don’t tell me you’re looking forward to this, brother! – And had properly sobered up after a – No brother! Never!
This couldn’t be happening. Why was this happening?
“Faster! You want to become a brother of this fraternity, don’t you? Don’t you?”
“Yes, brother!”
Eames took a deep breath and stood up straighter, resting his full back against the cold brick. The chill sharpened his mind enough to make him able to fake his calm and study the room with another quick glance. Five potential initiates. All the others had been weeded out. If the five teens made it through this night without slipping up, they would become official members. A part of Eames wondered if it was worth it, if the initiates would want to run when they realized where this was going. Eames had certainly wanted to run. But another part of Eames did think that it was worth it; after this one night of horror it really was one of the closest and safest fraternities to be involved in.
It was just this night of torturous tradition that members kept alive so that they could make new members suffer through the same night of pain as they had. Otherwise it wouldn’t feel fair.
The five teens were naked now, all standing at attention in front of their five piles of clothing. None of them looked particularly confident or certain, and Eames couldn’t blame them. James, the senior leader of this fraternity, was pacing back and forth in front of the five, screaming insults and getting a string of “Yes brother”s and “No brother”s out of them until it could almost be considered comical.
Except if you knew what was coming next.
Eames had been standing there in that line a year ago, shivering in fear but telling one of the leaders, when they asked, that it was only because the room was so cold. When he had stood there he had somehow known what was coming. The door had been right there, on his left, easy enough to reach before anyone caught him even if he’d have to leave his clothes. But where would he go then? This was the only fraternity that had offered to take him, and he couldn’t afford the college’s residence buildings. So he had stayed and suffered through the hazing.
Though he had barely made it through the night. That was why he was here now. Anyone who almost failed during their initiation had to ‘prove themselves’ the next year.
Eames was gay. You wouldn’t be able to tell from looking, or even from spending a full day with him, but it was true. And Eames was worried that it was about to get him kicked out of his home and college ‘family’.
Eames had the physique you’d associate with football or rugby, broad shoulders and a strong jaw. Eames had a bunch of guy friends he had never flirted with. When they went out to clubs he only grabbed the hips of girls his friends motioned him towards. He had had a girlfriend, and they had even had sex a few times before she found someone else over the summer holidays. The sex hadn’t been a tragedy in any sense of the word, but it wasn’t the same as that one night 365 days ago tonight. When he had been bent over the bed and taken forcefully; when he felt a large hand, calloused from football, on his shoulder, pressing him down.
The only reason Eames hadn’t come too soon and lost his opportunity to join the fraternity was the fact that Calvin hadn’t given him enough prep and the pain was as intense as the pleasure.
“Brother Eames, you with us?”
Eames jolted out of his thoughts and pushed himself away from the wall, standing tall and steady. A few of the initiates glanced over at him with fear. It was understandable; Eames knew he could look intimidating and formidable when he made an effort to hold himself that way. It was in this moment that Eames noticed the initiate closest to him, and Eames immediately hated the teen.
Because the sudden butterflies in Eames’s stomach nearly choked him.
“Yes, Brother,” he forced out quickly, tearing his eyes from the black haired, brown eyed beauty to look at his leader.
“Good,” James gave him a nod, a ‘this is your chance to prove yourself’ nod, before turning back to the initiates. “Arthur, you’re going to take care of Brother Eames tonight.” Eames reminded himself not to fidget as he looked back at the initiates and saw the black haired teen stare at him.
Dear god. Why?
The other four initiates were paired up with other second or third year students needing to ‘prove’ themselves again because of some careless mistake during the school year or over the summer. The alcohol was really starting to gain control over Eames’s senses as he stepped forward to line up shoulder to shoulder with the four other frat members, facing the initiates. His thoughts were still hazy as Arthur met his gaze fearfully and stepped forward. It was with blurry vision and shallow breath that Eames watched Arthur nervously kneel in front of him, pale cheeks flushed with a shame Eames was familiar with.
Then his senses sharpened when Arthur’s meticulous fingers plucked open the button and zipper of his jeans and slowly pulled them and Eames’s briefs down to his ankles. Eames could already feel his body beginning to stir with heat and closed his eyes again, making sure he didn’t imagine this beautiful boy kneeling in front of him.
“Well what are you waiting for, brothers? An invitation? Get to work!”
Eames had to bite his tongue to restrain his gasp when he heard a dreading intake of breath and then felt a hesitant hand wrap around the base of his cock. His eyes flashed open, and that was a mistake, because they immediately met Arthur’s own wide ones. And then Eames had no choice but to hold his hands behind his back to fight the urge to bury his fingers into that soft-looking hair.
“Faster! My brothers deserve some appreciation, don’t you agree?”
“Yes brother!”
And then—Oh shit that was Arthur’s mouth. And all Eames could manage to say was “Watch your teeth” because anything else he said would have been terribly inappropriate. Arthur’s gaze finally dropped to focus on his task, which made Eames happy. But then Eames wasn’t happy at all because it wasn’t fair that Arthur’s mouth was that hot, or that his thin lips looked so wonderful when stretched like that, because Eames was getting hard much faster than he should be.
And sure enough... “You enjoying this, brother?” James teased when he came to stand behind Arthur, looking the pair over.
“No brother,” Eames was obligated to say, even though he was lying through his clenched teeth.
Unfortunately James did not simply move on and instead turned his gaze down to the back of Arthur’s head. “Is our brother not doing a good enough job?”
Before Eames could even say anything, James had gripped some of Arthur’s hair and pushed his mouth further onto Eames’s swelling cock; it was only because Eames wasn’t fully hard that Arthur didn’t completely choke. The fingers gripping his legs dug in frantically. “It’s fine,” Eames growled, stepping back enough to let his dick fall from Arthur’s mouth. Arthur fell to his knees with a gasp and gagged, breathing hard. James narrowed his eyes at Eames and, against his better judgement, Eames glared back and stood tall. James was the leader, but Eames had a good four inches on him.
Finally James moved on and Eames dropped to his knees to be level with Arthur. The teen, just one year younger than Eames but looking so much smaller with his narrow frame and translucent skin, had tears clinging to his dark eyelashes, though none of them had fallen. “I’m sorry,” he murmured quietly. Arthur’s glare told Eames exactly where he could shove his apology. “Look,” Eames continued on, “We just need to get through this together and it’ll all be over.”
Arthur wouldn’t meet Eames’s eyes, but he nodded anyway. Knowing there was nothing else Eames could do without causing more trouble, he straightened back up and held his hands behind his back in preparation. He could tell Arthur was new to this, just like Eames had been, so Eames did his best to stand still and not rush the other teen. He couldn’t help but stare down and watch Arthur work as his hand moved up and down Eames’s flesh; watch Arthur’s head tilt in slight curiosity as Eames’s head slipped past his foreskin. It was endearing as much as it was hot, and even though he felt like a prick for it, Eames was forced to look straight ahead and avoid Arthur’s gaze when the raven-haired boy glanced up at him or else he’d come too soon.
Eames wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, Arthur’s skill, or Eames’s brief lack of self-preservation, but Eames let himself focus fully on the experience for a moment. It was just his swelling cock in Arthur’s mouth, Arthur’s tongue swirling and circling carefully. It was just their two bodies together, radiating heat off one another. They were the only ones in the room. There were no people, no jeering, no expectations. But then James patted him on the shoulder, jarring Eames back into reality.
Still, it didn’t take long for Eames to grow fully hard once Arthur hesitantly took more of Eames’s cock into his mouth. Eames’s only relief came from the fact that the other four frat members were in a similar state. Of course, that was when James and the other leaders’ taunting and jeering turned eager and loud. And then James was yelling his new orders, the orders that terrified Eames. Because how could he last above a beauty like Arthur? How could he pretend he wasn’t enjoying himself? How could he keep himself from thrusting into Arthur’s body the way he wanted to, pretend it was just the two of them moving together, that it wasn’t a forced encounter?
“On a couch with you! On your knees!”
Eames finally met Arthur’s gaze as the teen stood shakily on stiff legs, and in that moment Eames just wanted to hoist Arthur into his arms and get him out of there. Because those dark brown eyes were silently asking Eames for help, and Eames could hear it, and he wanted to answer that plea. But Eames couldn’t lose his place in this fraternity, and he doubted Arthur had anywhere else to go either. Arthur wouldn’t thank him for this, but it needed to be done.
The thing that broke Eames’s hear the most, when he took hold of Arthur’s arm to lead him over to the softest couch, was that Arthur didn’t even look at him with hatred. Just disappointment and shamed acceptance.
As the other pairs wandered over to different couches, two pairs actually deciding to just stay on the floor where this had started, Eames took a risk. You were allowed to use a condom and a little bit of lube, but you weren’t supposed to do any prep. And you certainly weren’t supposed to reassure your partner, because this wasn’t meant to be a loving encounter. But the leaders were busy cat calling and yelling at one pair that was throwing a fuss about the situation. So Eames quickly covered two fingers with lube and carefully pressed them both inside Arthur, just as deep as his fingernails.
Arthur gave a tiny, strangled groan, and Eames winced in sympathy and paused before pressing in further. He knew it had to hurt. If he could, he would wet Arthur with his tongue before even beginning to stretch him with one finger. But they didn’t have the time, and two fingers would hurt less than Eames’s entire girth in one hard shove. All too soon though, the leaders were moving back towards Eames’s couch, so Eames was forced to scissor his fingers and lean forward a bit, hiding his working fingers from view with his body. To cover this up, Eames put his free hand on Arthur’s back, as though fighting him down into place. “I don’t want to hurt you, Arthur,” Eames whispered softly. “I’ll try to be careful. But you need to relax your body too.”
Eames could feel the muscles in Arthur’s back tense and then relax slightly beneath Eames’s palm, and Eames felt a wave of affection that made him want to kiss up the length of Arthur’s spine. But then James was there and Eames had to slip his fingers free of Arthur’s hot body as he leaned back and reached for the condom wrapper beside the bottle of lube. “Problem, brother?”
“No, brother,” Eames stated blandly, busying his shaking fingers with working the condom onto his twitching length.
“Good, then get to work.” James parted with a loud slap to Arthur’s ass, causing Arthur to tense up and gasp. Eames glared at James’s retreating back, but then he noticed Wallace, another one of the leaders, watching him intently and Eames dropped his gaze.
He only dared to press his warm palm to Arthur’s red ass, hoping to take away some of the sting he knew would be leaving the skin burning. As he did this he lubed himself up with one shaky hand before guiding himself to Arthur’s entrance and pausing. “Relax,” Eames growled under his breath, swirling tiny circles against Arthur’s skin with his thumb as he pressed in slowly.
The sound Arthur made could only be described as a sob, the teen’s arms shaking as he forced his body to stay in position. But he took it. God, did he take it. Eames could hear Arthur breathing as he tried to keep his body as relaxed as possible, and between the brief prep and the lube Eames felt himself sliding into a perfect fit. Like a key into a lock. Like a hand into a glove. Like he had found his home within this beauty’s body.
Eames bottomed out and paused, letting Arthur adjust. “Perfect, Arthur,” he whispered under his breath, “So good.” It was a stupid thing to say, because he was practically giving away the fact that he was enjoying this, but he felt Arthur relax further beneath him at the words. And that made the risk worthwhile.
Wallace, seemingly suspicious, decided to wander over and stand beside their couch, looking down at them. “Enjoying time with your boyfriend, Eames?” Wallace sneered as he planted a hand on the middle of Arthur’s back and shoved him down, effectively forcing his ass up into the air. Eames felt his cock slip a little deeper within Arthur’s body, and it would have felt amazing if Arthur didn’t tighten around him in pain.
“Fuck off, Wallace,” Eames snapped, remembering 365 days previous when Wallace had forced Calvin to fuck him harder despite the sharp burning pain streaking up Eames’s spine.
“Touchy, touchy,” Wallace chuckled humourlessly before finally removing his hand from Arthur’s skin. Then his voice dropped to a dangerous, warning pitch. “Get on with it.”
Eames considered fully withdrawing from Arthur’s body and breaking Wallace’s face with his fist, but then James returned, always seeming to know when conflict was about to break out. On any night besides initiation night Eames would argue that James was a good leader. “Wallace, go make sure Greg doesn’t come in his date early, would you?” James ordered with a breezy voice, holding Wallace’s defiant gaze until the other leader stormed away. “Now,” James turned back to meet Eames’s gaze – Arthur was still panting, staring down at the fabric of the couch; “Is there a problem, brothers?”
“He’s in pain,” Eames snapped, purposefully omitting the ‘brother’ from his sentence.
James raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t acknowledge Eames’s comment. Instead he kneeled down to have his face level with Arthur’s, leaving Eames buried in Arthur but unmoving. “Tell me, brother,” James spoke to Arthur even if the teen wouldn’t look up. “Do you like having that cock in your ass?”
“No brother.”
“Do you want this to be over as soon as possible?”
“Yes brother.”
James’s gaze returned to Eames, who was effectively frozen in place. “You see brother?” James smirked, taunting, “He wants you to get on with it and stop savouring it.”
“I’m not—!”
“Then stop kneeling there like you want to stay there forever and move!” A wave of jeering filled the room, following James’s command.
Eames had no choice but to grip Arthur’s hips and slide out before thrusting back in carefully. Some of the lube had dried up while he stayed buried in Arthur’s body, so he pulled out quickly and coated himself again before pushing back in, knowing he couldn’t afford to be told by James again. Arthur gave another heavy sigh but the time Eames had remained inside him must have stretched him out a bit because it didn’t sound as pained. And even though Eames couldn’t risk whispering encouragements to Arthur again, Arthur’s body started to relax as Eames began a slow, steady rhythm.
It felt amazing being inside Arthur, his body tight and hot as Eames slid in and out of him again and again, each thrust sliding more easily as Arthur grew accustomed to the sensation and position. For a moment Eames glanced around the room, taking in the other four pairs fucking on various furniture and the leaders shouting and pacing around them. It felt so crude and uncomfortable, hearing and seeing other people engaged in what should be such an intimate act, so Eames closed his eyes to block the sights and sounds out. He took a deep breath before opening his eyes and refocusing on the body below him, watching his cock disappear into that pale ass.
It would have been perfect, or at least enjoyable, except for the fact that James was still kneeling by Arthur’s face, taunting him, teasing him.
Eames could hear what James was saying to Arthur, “tell him to fuck you faster. Tell him harder. Beg for it,” but it was only Arthur’s words that registered in Eames’s hazy, aroused mind.
Faster, Eames. Harder.
Please.
Please fuck me, Eames.
Eames took a shuddering breath and did as Arthur asked; thrusting in harder, grinding his hips against Arthur’s ass to shove himself in as deep as possible. And then something happened that Eames didn’t know how to handle. Arthur began moaning on each breath and clenching around Eames rhythmically, purposefully. He was even rutting back against Eames’s thrusts slightly, the ballsy little brat, right in front of James. The movement wasn’t obvious enough to draw attention to someone watching, but Eames could feel the muscles working, and could feel the head of his cock brush against a small bundle deep within Arthur on each thrust, aided by Arthur’s movements.
Arthur was enjoying this.
Unfortunately, even if James couldn’t tell that Arthur was purposefully taking Eames deeper, spurring Eames on, he noticed the moaning. “Enjoying this, brother?” James jibed, grabbing Arthur’s chin harshly to turn his face towards the leader.
Eames’s fingers dug into Arthur’s hips harder, nails biting into flesh. His heart was racing with adrenaline and fear. Would Arthur give himself up and get himself kicked out? Would Eames ever see him again? Could Arthur tell that Eames was incredibly turned on and enjoying this as well? Would Eames get found out?
“No brother,” Arthur choked out on a quiet whine.
“Then why are you moaning?” James laughed, pushing Arthur’s face away as though he were diseased.
“Pain, brother.”
James stared at Arthur and then he stared at Eames. Eames could see Arthur grip the fabric of the couch cushion tightly, skin on his fingers going white around his knuckles as Arthur continued to rut back and clench strategically around Eames. Eames kept moving because he honestly couldn’t make himself stop. Arthur just felt so good.
A strangled groan and a curse was what saved Arthur and Eames.
“Hey James, it looks like we’ve got a brother who enjoyed himself a little too much!”
Things became a hazy blur again after that, because one of the initiates had lost it and would now have to find another place to live. That meant that the other four initiates were in, and that the four pairs could finally separate. Eames realized this in a daze and knew Arthur noticed when it took Eames an extra few seconds to slow his thrusting to a standstill, and another few seconds after that before he finally withdrew from Arthur’s body.
Luckily no one else was paying them any attention.
The members were then ordered to take their new members upstairs and find a place for them to sleep. It was well past three in the morning by this point, sleep weighing heavily on everyone, and orientation would start early the next morning. Eames peeled his condom off shakily and dropped it in the trash, trying to avoid brushing a hand against his still-swollen length as he began to dress. Seeing Arthur’s own cock flushed and hanging heavy between his legs as he gingerly stepped back into his pants didn’t help Eames’s arousal fade.
Arthur’s movements were slow and stiff after the encounter, but he wouldn’t let Eames help him up the stairs. Eames knew he should probably lead Arthur up to the living room to take a couch there for the night, but instead he led Arthur to the top floor and down the hall until they came to his room. It was a relatively large room with two single beds, only one side of the room decorated; Eames’s roommate had graduated last spring.
Eames stood by the doorframe after pushing the door closed, watching Arthur gingerly sit down on the edge of the unclaimed mattress. He could still see Arthur’s erection tenting his pants, practically begging Eames to do something about it, even though Arthur himself looked tired and withdrawn. Eames shouldn’t do anything about it, shouldn’t attempt to finish what he and Arthur had begun two floors down in the common room. He shouldn’t even acknowledge it. He and Arthur had both earned their keep tonight, and Eames shouldn’t do anything to risk it for either of them.
No matter how hot Arthur had been. How tight.
No matter how beautiful his pale skin had looked. How much Eames wanted to taste it.
No matter how amazing Arthur had felt. How tempting his moans had been.
“Arthur?”
“What?” Arthur sighed, not lifting his head to meet Eames’s gaze.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not.”
“It is.”
Eames sighed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Are you in pain?” he eventually thought to ask.
“ Some.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
This time Eames crossed the room with an angry huff. He was tempted to grip Arthur’s chin and force the teen to meet his gaze, but that was too reminiscent of James. And he didn’t want to physically force Arthur after what had just happened. “Look at me,” he demanded instead; practically standing between Arthur’s spread legs. He could feel the heat radiating from Arthur’s crotch.
Arthur did look up at him then, and what Eames saw in those eyes had him stepping closer. Not fear, not hatred, not pain, not sadness. Nothing Eames was expecting to see.
Lust.
Longing.
“I enjoyed every minute of tonight,” Eames dared to admit, trusting his deepest secret to this stranger, who didn’t really feel like a stranger anymore, and the oppressive silence of the room. “Well, I mean, not the jeering or the fact that you were forced—mphf!”
The alcohol’s effects might have faded by that point, but Eames’s mind was hazy at best when Arthur suddenly gripped his face with two burning palms and dragged him down into a heated, desperate kiss. Eames toppled forward on top of Arthur, pressing the teen’s body into the mattress as Eames moaned and deepened the kiss.
Arthur was kissing him.
By choice.
Holy shit he tasted amazing.
It was only a few brief moments before they were both rutting against one another through the fabric of their pants, both of them still hard and heated from the initiation. Eames pulled away so that they could catch their breath, and so that Eames could study Arthur’s face. There was no hesitation there, and that was all Eames needed to know. So he took hold of Arthur’s hand and dragged him off the bed to be promptly resituated on Eames’s own bed.
Eames tore off his clothes and fumbled in his bedside drawer for another condom and more lube, and when he returned to the bed he found Arthur already naked on his hands and knees. And as hot as that was to see, Eames carefully gripped Arthur’s hips and flipped him over onto his back. Arthur looked confused when their eyes met. Then Eames kissed the finger-shaped bruises he had left on Arthur’s hips. Understanding seemed to dawn on Arthur as his skin flushed beautifully before he pulled Eames down into another kiss.
They parted with a breathless laugh shortly thereafter and Eames fumbled the second condom onto his now-leaking cock. Eames’s lips were swollen and tingling, parted slightly as he panted and hesitated. “You’re sure?” he questioned quietly, fingers slippery with lube and shaky with anticipation and nerves.
“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” Arthur smirked, though he didn’t look entirely sure.
“Of course not,” Eames scoffed, leaning forward as far as he could with only one hand free of lube to use for balance, kissing Arthur’s skin over his bottom rib. “I want to know you want this.”
“I want this,” Arthur whispered, trusting Eames with his own secret.
Eames felt like they were rushing things, but when he slid his fingers carefully back into Arthur, he found that Arthur was still stretched, hot and slick from their previous encounter. He still spent a few minutes spreading lube and stretching Arthur more, just to watch Arthur’s lithe body writhe and mess up the bed sheets.
When Eames couldn’t bear to wait another minute, he withdrew his fingers and grabbed Arthur’s ankles, hoisting them up and over his shoulders. Then he took himself in hand, coating his length with the excess lube, and guided himself into Arthur’s willing body. He stuttered to a stop as he buried himself fully within Arthur’s hole, clenching his eyes closed as he focused on not coming immediately. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t spilled himself within this gorgeous body down in the common room, but he was glad that he hadn’t. Not because he feared losing his place as a member, but because he wanted Arthur and this encounter all to himself.
Arthur was beautiful below him, all elegant lines and angles that Eames’s eyes traced as he watched Arthur’s body arch and rut against him on each thrust. The sounds he was making were even better, leaving Eames feeling dizzy as he voiced his own pleasure, just to hear their voices mingle. Eames’s hands were supporting Arthur’s lower back, which wasn’t even touching the bed anymore as they worked together to get the head of Eames’s cock spearing Arthur’s prostate again and again.
Eames could feel Arthur’s body tensing as he edged towards his completion, muscles in his back flexing and his legs shifting slightly as Arthur searched desperately for more. He wanted this to last forever, never wanted to withdraw from Arthur’s body again. But Eames’s own orgasm was building quickly, heat coiling in the pit of his stomach as he thrust in harder, losing his rhythm. His eyes didn’t stray from Arthur’s face as he continued to hammer in viciously, memorizing the flush in those cheeks and the lustful haze in those dark eyes as they watched Eames in return.
In a moment of possessiveness, Eames leaned forward to seal his mouth over Arthur’s neck. Arthur moaned Eames’s name long and loud as Eames practically bent his body in half but still did his best to maintain his movements. Arthur’s moan faded away into little keening noises every time Eames fucked the breath out of him, all while Eames sucked a claiming mark on the other teen’s neck.
“Eames, more, please...” Arthur’s voice finally caught Eames’s attention. Eames pulled away, surveying the dark mouth-shaped bruise forming on Arthur’s neck before meeting those brown eyes. “I’m so close, Eames...” Arthur moaned, never looking away from him.
Determined now, and ready to finally let go, Eames returned to kneeling between Arthur’s legs. He gripped Arthur’s hips tightly and pulled him down onto Eames’s cock every time Eames thrust forward with his whole body. Eames watched in awe and lust as Arthur’s eyes fluttered closed right before he threw his head back against Eames’s pillow and came. Hot spurts of come splattered across Eames’s chest and stomach, and the sensation of Arthur’s burning pleasure coating his skin was enough to drive Eames over the edge as well. With Arthur’s name on his lips Eames came violently, bucking deeply into Arthur’s body as though he was trying to bury his seed there forever.
It took his body a long time to calm down, and when it finally did Eames collapsed forward on top of Arthur. Their chests were pressed together closely enough for their heartbeats to dance together, and both of their bodies shook with exhaustion and residual pleasure. At some point Eames found enough energy to withdraw and chuck the condom out, but after that all he could do was pull the covers over them and mould himself against Arthur’s side.
The curtains were open, letting moonlight spill over both of them. It lit up Arthur’s pale skin like magic, and left Eames’s hickey in shadowy relief. Eames kissed it apologetically, but Arthur just rolled over onto his side and smiled. Then Arthur yawned and Eames gathered him up in his arms, their legs tangling together intimately. “Was that your first time?” Eames questioned softly, brushing his lips across Arthur’s sweaty brow affectionately.
“Yeah,” Arthur admitted shyly, hiding his face against Eames’s neck. “I wasn’t expecting to enjoy it. I had never...”
“Same,” Eames traced calming circles on the heated skin of Arthur’s bare back. “This was my first time besides my initiation, but this was so much better than that.”
Arthur cupped Eames cheek with a palm before craning his neck up to plant a soft kiss on Eames’s lips. Eames wasn’t sure, but he thought he might be in love.
#
The next time Eames was conscious, his thoughts were hazy again. Sometime in the middle of the night he and Arthur must have shifted positions, since now Arthur was facing the empty bed and Eames was spooning him from behind. The heat beneath the blankets was pleasing, as was the sensation of Arthur’s naked skin brushing against Eames’s own as he shifted in his sleep.
But then there was a loud knock at the door and Eames realized what had wakened him up a moment too late. Suddenly Wallace was bursting into the room, yelling at him about orientation, but promptly falling silent. His eyes grew comically large, except it wasn’t funny at all because Wallace turned on his heel and ran back out into the hallway shouting for James. The commotion jarred Arthur out of sleep, who looked just as dazed as Eames felt. But there still wasn’t time to fix anything as Wallace physically dragged James into the bedroom and pointed at them, looking thoroughly scandalized.
Eames could see a few other fraternity members and the new initiates standing out in the hallway, standing on tiptoes and craning their necks to see what the commotion was about. Arthur, finally realizing what was going on, pressed himself back against Eames, trying to hide. All Eames could do was wrap his arms around Arthur a little tighter, protectively.
Wallace was yelling at how Eames and Arthur should be kicked out of the fraternity, how they should be beaten up and yelled at and ‘taught a lesson’. He was pointing fingers and pacing around and practically panting, he was breathing so hard. And James was just standing there, staring at Eames and Arthur cuddled together under the blankets, seemingly unaware of his screaming ‘brother’ or the growing group outside the room. Eames didn’t know what to expect once James finally snapped out of it, but he was preparing for the worst.
And then James’s eyes slid from the bed to Wallace. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Wallace stilled immediately and flushed noticeably. “Excuse me?”
“What is wrong with you?” James stated again, stronger this time. He may not be the tallest member of the fraternity, but Eames knew James was the leader for a reason. He had the voice for it. It was a voice that made you stop and listen.
“I—I don’t--!” Wallace stuttered, clearly confused about what was going on. For once, Eames couldn’t blame him. Eames’s own heart was racing as he watched James, and he could feel Arthur’s own heart fluttering under Eames’s palm.
“Just leave them alone,” James growled, taking a step toward Wallace and forcing the other teen to step further away from the bed. “It’s none of your business who they’re interested in.”
“But... But initiation--!”
“Is a tradition that means nothing outside of that night,” James spoke over Wallace, forcing him yet another step backwards. “This is a fraternity of brothers. We’re the family we never had. And family may put you through some bad shit, but family still supports you and your choices. Am I right?” Wallace was silent. James took another step towards Wallace, this time less menacing even as he invaded the teen’s personal space. “Am I right, brother?” he asked again, quieter this time, more personal.
“Yes brother,” Wallace whispered, staring at the floor.
James rested a hand on Wallace’s shoulder in a manner that could only be described as comforting. “Good. Now get everyone gathered downstairs for orientation, alright?” Wallace nodded and raised his head again, turning and stepping out into the hallway without another look at the bed. Their audience was herded away with a few groans of protest at missing any further drama, and then James turned back to Eames and Arthur. “That goes for you two as well. I want you washed and dressed and downstairs in ten minutes.”
James turned to leave, but Eames was so baffled he couldn’t help but blurt out “What?”
The leader turned back around. “What?”
“You...” Eames’s thoughts were reeling. “You force guys to have sex with each other and taunt them if they show any interest, and yet you fully support same sex couples? I don’t get it.”
“When people suffer in order to achieve something, they will value it much more highly,” James explained matter-of-factly. “And guys sharing that sort of intimacy will unavoidably be closer because of the encounter. Call it cruel if you wish, but it’s a tradition that works. It develops devotion to the group and closeness between members.”
“It’s cruel,” Arthur said strongly, tense in Eames’s arms.
“Maybe,” James shrugged. “But it did bring you two together.” The room was silent for a moment and then James smirked, heading back into the hallway towards the stairs. “You’re welcome!”
Eames and Arthur remained lying together for another few seconds, thinking over everything that had just happened. “I don’t feel like thanking him,” Arthur huffed eventually.
Eames chuckled and kissed his claiming mark on Arthur’s neck. Arthur rolled over until he was facing Eames, smiling shyly. “Me either. And I hope he doesn’t expect me to call you ‘brother’,” Eames grimaced and then laughed again when Arthur made a disgusted face.
“I think ‘boyfriend’ works fine,” Arthur offered quietly, blushing and watching Eames from under his lashes.
Feeling his heart skip a beat, Eames leaned forward and caught Arthur’s lips with his own. “Sounds good to me, darling,” he grinned when they finally parted for air.
To his surprise, Arthur blushed. “’Darling’ works too,” he mumbled.
Eames just smiled and stole another kiss.