"Don't worry, we covered for you." Chris laughed. "Told Marc you had a major test on Monday and had to spend the weekend studying. Alma mater first, and all that bullshit, right?"

"Right." I wanted to ask if Blair had asked about me, had said anything, but kept my mouth shut. "Thanks, man."

"Well, Eric and I were wondering if you wanted to come over for a little bit," he said quietly, "you know, just to hang out and stuff? I mean, if you aren't doing anything else. But if you really have to study . . ." his voice trailed off.

I flashed back to just before the party, when he and I had sat on Blair's bed getting stoned. It was so hot watching you and Eric wrestle ... you should come over sometime and... I remembered him putting his hand on my dick. He and Eric were sexy. And Blair could just go to hell. I didn't owe him anything. But I did need to study. I opened my mouth to say "No thank you, some other time," but then I saw the clock. It was almost seven P.m. on Sunday night. I had called him when I got home around ten on Saturday morningand he still hadn't called me back.

You don't owe him a goddamned thing. Fuck him. He yells at you, throws you out of his room for breaking some rule you didn't even know existed, and then doesn't have the decency to call you back? Why not have some fun ?

"Sure, great," I said, closing my textbook, and slipping it into my backpack. "I'm on my way."

"Cool, see you in a few!" Chris hung up.

Chris and Eric's apartment was in the Valencia Apartments complex, which sounded a lot nicer than it actually was. On the street that ran along the back of the university campus and the stadium, across from the stadium were the two story buildings that made up the Valencia. I'm sure when they were first built; back after the second World War they were probably really decent and affordable apartments for the CSUP students who lived there. But year after year of college students, parties, and destruction had taken their toll on the Valencia, and now they were just kind of tired and sad. The stucco facades had cracks in them, and the paint on the walls inside looked like the original paint. The carpets had cigarette burns in them and years of spills soaked up. Chris and Eric often joked about naming the roaches in their kitchen and training them as pets. We always had our pledge meetings there because their apartment was so close to the house, and also because Chris was the president of our class.

As I drove the Flying Couch on the familiar way I always took to see Blair at the house, I felt a sob welling up in my throat. Surely it couldn't end this way between us? It wasn't right, especially over something as stupid as me sleeping with Marc Kearney-a stupid mistake that would never in a million years happen again. How could I have been so stupid?

I fought to get control of myself. I didn't want Chris and Eric to see me like this, and after all, what had I done that was so wrong?

This time, though, I couldn't convince myself.

By the time I knocked on Chris and Eric's door, I was worked up into an incredibly high emotional state again. When Eric opened the door, he did a double take. "Dude, are you okay? You look awful."

"Nice to see you, too." I pushed past him into their living room. All the furniture had been pushed up against the walls and there were two mattresses pushed together in the center of the floor. Chris was sitting at their dining table, rolling joints with an open bottle of beer to one side of the tray where he was sorting seeds and stems out from the marijuana chaff.

"Grab a beer," Chris instructed without looking up from the joint he was rolling. I grabbed one and removed the top before sitting down at the table. Chris looked up and grinned at me. "Glad you could make it, man." He picked up a joint and put one end into his mouth, lighting the other side. He passed me the joint and I took a hit.

Eric came up from behind me, and leaned down, running his hands up and down my torso. "Wrestling you on Big Brother Night was so hot-well, what I remember of it anyway," he said, taking the joint from me. "It's a good thing I was so drunk otherwise I'd have popped a big of boner. Damn, man, you have a fine ass."

The pot started relaxing me, and I giggled. "Yeah, well, you're pretty hot yourself there, buddy. I was afraid I would, too-but with so many people around and watching, I guess I was shy."

Eric kissed my neck, and I could feel my dick starting to come to life. "Well, stud, we can go for it tonight. Got the mattresses all set up. And you're not winning this time, now that I'm actually sober."

"Oh, you think?" I teased, winking at Chris.

"He's all talk, you know." Chris laughed, taking the joint away from Eric and taking a hit. "I kick his ass on a regular basis. He likes having his ass kicked." He winked back at me. "It turns him on, you know. He likes being dominated." He rolled his eyes. "You should hear him squeal when he has a dick up his ass."

I laughed. The pot was definitely helping, and I loved these two.

"Fuck you," Eric said easily, without malice. "You know I let you win because it makes you so hot." He nibbled on my earlobe, which made me moan a little bit. I turned my head into his mouth. "It fucking drives him crazy to win ... keep that in mind when we get down to it, okay?"

"Okay, I think I've got it. Chris likes to win, and you like to lose. Easy enough." I laughed and took a sip of my beer. "How long have you two been-" I hesitated. I wasn't really sure how to put it. At parties-especially during Little Sister Rush, the two of them were the biggest horn dogs in the pledge class, going after anything with tits that moved.

Chris reached over and took my hand. "Eric and I have been messing around since we were about twelve, I think. We're bisexual-we like girls too. But guys"-he laughed"guys are a lot of fun, too. Of course, we have each other so we can always get laid whenever either one of us is horny-"

"Which pretty much is all the time," Eric went on, sliding his big hands down over my crotch, "so if we don't feel like messing with chicks or anything, we just take care of each other."

"It's not like we're in love or anything," Chris explained. "I mean, we're best friends, sure, but we're not in love with each other. It's just a physical thing for us."

"Wow" I took another hit. I was feeling quite pleasant. It was very good pot, and Eric's hand rubbing on my dick was having a predictable effect. I didn't understand their arrangement completely, but it made perfect sense the way they described it. Maybe that was the problem with Blair and I-I certainly had crossed the line from friendship into love, and the way he reacted-he had to have as well. "Have you messed around with anyone in the house?"

They looked at each other and started laughing. "I sucked Rory Armagh off," Eric said after a moment. "Jesus. He sure has a horsedick."

"I did too!" I laughed. "I don't know how I got that huge thing down my throat."

"You were able to?" Eric moved around and sat down, giving me an admiring glance. "I couldn't, I just did as much as I could until he shot his wad. I mean, when I saw that thing it scared the crap out of me. He's deformed."

"I fucked Marc Kearney," Chris offered. "Pledge master my ass. Big of insatiable bottom is what he is."

"You've fucked Blair, haven't you?" Eric asked. "You might as well tell the truth-we've thought so almost from the start of the semester."