He gave me a big hug and kiss, and I walked him out to the car. It was cold and gray outside, and a damp wind was blowing that seemed to go right through my skin into my bones. I watched him drive off, waving until his car made the turn off the cul-de-sac and was out of sight. I walked back into the empty house. It was weird how silent it was. Even during the mandatory weeknight quiet hours (which started at seven P.lvt.) there was always some noise in the house. But now the whole place was silent as a tomb, other than the sound of the wind rushing around the house. The house was also cold and drafty. I shivered a bit as I went back into my room and turned on the space heater. What I really wanted to do with all the solitude was write.

The days passed, and I became more and more used to being alone in the house. Every so often I would go over to my parents' for dinner, but most of the time I didn't like to leave the house. I was taking a creative writing course the next semester which required me to write four short stories, and Jerry Pollard had offered to read and critique the stories for me-so I wanted to get drafts of them finished over the Christmas break.

And being alone in the house allowed me to do other things as well. Blair had left some porn DVD's for me to "entertain" myself with, and rather than watching them in the privacy of his room, I chose to watch them in the Great Room, naked, and pleasure myself in there. I sometimes would beat off in the communal showers quite happily.

In fact, I found that most of the time I was walking around the house either naked or in my underwear. It was kind of cool.

It was about eight o'clock on Christmas Eve when I walked naked to the showers. I'd spent most of the day at my parents', but had come back to the house around six. They'd wanted me to sleep over, but I begged off, promis ing to come back early the next morning and spend the day with them.

I was very pleasantly stoned, and my dick was hard. I was going to beat off again under the hot spray with my cock nice and soapy. My towel was draped over my shoulder when someone called my name.

After my heart started beating at a normal pace, my breathing was more regular, and I'd had a moment to wrap my towel around my waist and start willing my erection away, I said, "Jesus, Kenny! You scared me to death!"

"Hated the thought of you here all alone, buddy." Kenny Frame was one of the few brothers I didn't know well, because he didn't live in the house. As he walked up to me, grinning, I realized with horror that not only was I alone in the house with him, I was already hard and practically naked. He punched me in the shoulder, hard enough to force me to take a step backward.

Kenny was a local, an honest to God, born and raised here native of Polk, California. He'd lived in the house for three years, and had moved out at the beginning of the previous summer, getting an apartment with a non-brother. He was a big guy, about six four and two hundred thirty pounds of solid muscle. He'd played on the CSUP football team on an athletic scholarship his first two years in school, but he liked to party a little too much so he'd quit. He had a mop of unruly curly reddish blond hair, freckles across his nose, brown eyes and a body that was all veined muscle. I'd hung out with him a few times, and liked him. He had an odd sense of humor, and sometimes went a little too far with the teasing, but he was always grinning and in a good mood, and never meant anything by it. Kenny wasn't popular with the majority of the brothers, especially with the Executive Council. When he got drunk, so the stories went, he had a tendency to do crazy things, and would become belligerent when anyone tried to interfere. I'd heard it had taken four of the biggest guys in the house to restrain him once. Another time he'd gotten drunk, gone out into the parking lot, and started hitting golf balls in the direction of the Alpha Xi Delta house. Several shattered car windows later, someone had managed to get the golf club away from him and put him to bed.

Obviously, relations with the sisters of Alpha Xi were a little strained for a while after that.

"What about your family?" My dick was shrinking, thank God.

He shrugged. "They're sitting around watching It's a Wonderful Life and in about another hour or two, they'll be asleep. I knew you were here, and I felt like partying." Out of one of his jacket pockets he pulled a bottle of Jose Cuervo Gold. Out of the other he pulled out a bag of white powder. "You've got pot, don't you?"

"Yeah, of course I do."

He grinned at me. "Go ahead and take your shower, and I'll wait for you in your room."

"Urn, okay. The room's open." I stood there like a fool and watched him walk up the hallway to my room. He was so fucking hot. His legs were all thick muscle, and he had this great big muscular ass that strained against his jeans as though trying to break out. I'd partied with Kenny beforebut never alone. It would be so tempting, I thought as I soaped up my body in the shower, to try something, but I wouldn't, couldn't. Kenny was cool, but he wasn't that cool-and besides, he could kick my ass with one arm tied behind his back. And if he was drunk-and there was no one around to talk him down-the thought made me shudder. Yeah, no matter how fucked up I got, I'd have to keep my hands to myself. I got under the spray of hot water and took my shower.

My towel tied securely around my waist, I walked back into my room. He'd put an old Fleetwood Mac CD on my stereo, and two fat lines of coke were already laid out on my framed picture of Blair and me from Initiation Night. Two shot glasses filled with golden liquor were set out on my desk, and Kenny was finishing the last remnants of ash and pot in my bong. He grinned at me as I pulled on a pair of sweatpants. He held the bong out to me. "Refill, please," he said in a childlike voice that made me think of Oliver Twist- "may I have some more, sir?"

I sat down at my desk and got out the tin I kept my pot in, tearing some pieces off a damp bud with purplish red hairs growing out of it. I lit up, inhaling, listening to the water bubble inside the glass, letting go of the vent hole and letting the cooled smoke fill my lungs before passing it back to him. He did the same as I blew out a stream of smoke that seemed to fill my little room. Somehow, the room seemed even smaller with him sitting on my bed. Kenny let out his hit, coughing a little, then passed the bong back to me. I gestured for him to keep it, and he took two more hits.

"Damn," he said, his eyes watering as he put the bong down. "That's good grass, man."

I shrugged and took the tequila glass he offered. We clinked the glasses together and tossed the liquor back. It was smooth, but strong, and the burning didn't start until it was all the way down. Then came the lines of coke. I hadn't done coke since the night with Marc-and I wondered if doing it again was a sign of possibilities to come. I tried not to be too obvious as I snuck glances over at Kenny. Damn, he filled out those jeans really nicely. Stop that! Are you crazy? I reminded myself. He can break you in half with one hand. Just don't go there-don't even fucking think about it.

After some more bong hits, another line of coke and a couple more shots of the tequila, I was feeling pretty fucked up. Kenny was still sitting on the side of my bed and I was in my desk chair. We talked about little thingsbrothers we liked, brothers we didn't like, wasn't that a great party, and so on. I kept sneaking glances over at him out of the corner of my eyes.

He really had the most amazing body.

After a fourth shot, I decided I needed to stop with the tequila. I was getting too drunk, and I was afraid that I might not be able to trust myself to be around him. It had been two weeks since Blair had gone home-and even though we talked on the phone every day and e-mailed each other dozens of times, I missed the feel of another man in my arms. No matter how many times I beat off, it just wasn't the same. And Kenny was sexy as hell.