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The Peach-Pounding Peters of Peterson Hall
Chapter 8: Meeting a Model while Looking for Lincoln
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By Wednesday—it was only the second week of the semester after an intense first one that felt longer—I was worried about Lincoln. I hadn't returned to my old dorm room except to pack what little stuff I had, and he hadn't been around at the time. What was going on with him? He was still a Peter, yet Buff hadn't bothered requiring that he visit us when he normally would. I hadn't seen or heard from Lincoln again. I'd tried stopping by my old dorm room several times, but he was never around. He'd even ignored my texts and calls. Was he really that upset with me? I understood being upset over the initiation ritual, even Buff, but me?
After leaving class and shivering my way through campus with my jacket and backpack on, Leah called me from behind. I reluctantly turned around and slapped on a fake smile. How had it come to this? Me avoiding her? Me finding her company tedious? Despite the fact that I'd never been in love with her—I realized that now—I used to enjoy her company, but I'd still needed my own space, hence my move to Port Pelle. But now, I didn't even want to see her again. After days and days of fucking around with guys, my feelings for her had reduced even more. I felt stuck with her, and I hated it. I didn't want to break her heart, but I'd already hurt her by cheating many times. She deserved better than a piece-of-shit boyfriend like me. Could I ever be boyfriend material?
Maybe not.
Leah's blonde ponytail flapped against her backpack as she rushed toward me for a warm hug, giving me a longing expression. "I've missed you. Ever since we started college, we rarely see each other." We didn't see each other every single day, but we did text daily and called each other every other day.
I let go and shrugged. "Just been a busy semester." That much was true. And what a chilly day today, as cold as my mood could easily be. I had to control myself because it wasn't Leah's fault. I was just moody now.
She frowned. "It's ironic that I chose to come here to get to spend more time with you, only for us to spend even less time together than before."
Fuck, I hated this feeling. The guilt started coming back in full force because of how much of a cheating jerk I really was. I'd never cheated until recently. Why couldn't I have just ignored Lincoln? He'd seduced me, and I'd fought the temptation; he'd seduced me some more, and I'd given into the temptation. It had all gone downhill from there. Well, maybe some good things had come out of it.
Twunky. And what an irresistible boy band butt I'd been sniffing and eating every single night in secret, as well as making out. I'd taken him out to eat during the day, also in secret. I refused to let him starve. Buff could go fuck himself with that toxic bullshit.
"I know, Leah, I get it. But things change, you know?"
She gave me a nod, still frowning. Her sad mood made me want to find a good guy for her. I wanted her to move on from me. If only I could stop being a coward and just end it to avoid any more pain. I couldn't risk telling her the actual truth because she could tell my family. But what excuse could I give her? If I told her I didn't love her, I'd come across as playing mind games with her. Was I? I wasn't trying to at all. The other girls I'd dated before her had been the ones to end it first, and it'd been mutual, so there hadn't been any issues. Not with Leah.
Ugh, I sucked at this relationship thing.
She checked her phone and sighed. "I should be going. Like you, I have a study group, and I have to prepare a few things. I guess that's another reason we're busy." She gave me a longing kiss on the lips that made me feel worse, and she managed a weak smile. "Text me later. Love you."
"Love you too." Those empty, obligatory words.
Leah walked farther ahead, and I waited until she was long gone before continuing my way back to the Peters' suit. But not before trying Lincoln once more. I'd last checked right after my classes yesterday.
Lincoln. Why? We could've been awesome roommates with awesome sex every single day, and an even more awesome friendship. I'd never know what it was like to be in his situation, but I was willing to be there for him if he needed some kind of emotional support.
I entered Peterson Hall and calmed from the light warmth inside the building. I reached the second floor and stopped at Lincoln's door. Since I'd already officially moved to the Peters' suite, I no longer had a keycard. I knocked softly, and when there was no answer, I knocked harder.
"Are you here for Joker?" asked a deep, sexy voice that twitched my dick.
I turned around, and I suddenly took back everything I'd ever said about never finding a twink attractive enough to fuck. What a beautiful, gorgeous-as-fuck model with a posh overcoat and scarf that looked expensive. For a twink, he was a little taller than me, maybe by an inch. His height wasn't a shock if he really was a model, though. His longish, brown hair was mixed with blond and red, and he had prominent eyebrows. His face was nicely-sculpted with just tiny specs of hair above his full lips and on his chin. His bright bedroom eyes were like crystals in a grayish-blue shade. For having an overall pretty-boy appearance, he was pretty masculine.
Fuck.
He arched an eyebrow, waiting for a response.
I snapped back to reality. "Y-yeah, do you know where he is?" And Joker? Did this twink know about the Peters club?
"Yeah, I found him in the room last night passed out on the floor with an empty pill bottle."
My eyebrows flew up, and my heart raced. "Wh-what? Is he okay?"
The twink nodded, emotions sparkling in his eyes. "I called 9-1-1 and he was taken to the ER."
I breathed in and out. Now I knew why he'd seemed so dead inside while leaving the initiation ritual, which had been the last time I'd seen him. Fuck. I wanted to hold him so tightly right now. "What hospital? Can I see him?"
"Sadly, no. Only family. I tried. The only thing they told me was that he'll have to be transferred to a psych ward, but I'm not sure for how long." The twink swallowed, his eyes watering up.
"Do you know him?"
"No, but I'm his new roommate. Yesterday was my first day here. Late-starter."
I nodded, and my heart felt heavy. I fought hard not to get emotional since random residents walked past us on occasion, and I didn't know the twink well enough.
"Want to talk in private? You look like you could really need it."
I nodded and followed him inside, and after he closed the door, I was stunned to see just how decorated my old dorm room was. New bedding, inspirational posters and artsy-fartsy portraits on the wall, and the desks were less cluttered with candles that suddenly smelled a bit earthy now that I paid attention. It was nice to see a couple of framed sports portraits since Lincoln did like sports like I did.
"I'm Jerrick, by the way. Jerrick Nathanson."
"Pete Sanzo."
Jerrick arched his eyebrows a little. "Oh. The Chosen One?"
Yep, he was a member. But who? I gave him a nod.
"Wow. Well? I'm kind of glad now."
"Why?"
"I was praying I'd lose my virginity to a hottie. I'm the virgin sacrifice."
Oh, right. Why hadn't I realized that? I chuckled, and the feeling was instantly mutual. I'd been so afraid of him looking like a typical twink only because of my main preference for jocks. There were few exceptions, but I'd never found one in person, just online or in the media. But Jerrick? Media for sure. It was surreal that he even looked the way he did. It wasn't normal at all. Even the hotties here didn't exactly look like models, not the runway kind anyway.
"Are you, like, a supermodel or something?" I asked. He had to be some kind of model. There was no way he wasn't.
He formed a little grin. "Not surprised by the question since I get that all the time. I'm not a supermodel, but I am a model, yeah. I'm just not comfortable revealing much about my career. I hope you understand."
I nodded. "No, no, I get it."
"I mean, you know, with my role in the Peters club and whatnot. It could destroy me."
"Yeah, of course." The mood to converse started waning as Lincoln kept returning to my thoughts, hitting me hard.
Jerrick patted my shoulder. "He's going to be okay. I promise." He choked up. "I...I've been in this situation before. My best friend." His voice cracked, and tears welled up in his eyes until the first one rolled down his cheek. "He didn't make it."
My heart ached for him. "I'm...sorry, wow."
Jerrick swallowed and wiped his cheek, blinking enough times to clear his eyes. "I'm better now because it was back when I was in middle school, but finding Joker like that triggered flashbacks."
"I bet. God, wow, that's...damn." I didn't even know what else to say except that I was beyond relieved Lincoln was going to make it. The question now was, what had prompted him to do it? The Peters club? His feelings for me? Both? Something else?
Buff?
"Do you know why he did it?" I asked.
"No, but if I did and if he told me not to say anything, I'd respect his wishes."
"I understand." I stared at Lincoln's bed, still the one against the right wall. I needed answers, and there was no way to get them by calling the hospital or psych ward because of confidentiality. I only hoped Buff knew something since he was technically family to him, albeit distant stepbrothers who hated each other.
I blew a big breath. "I should probably get back to the Peters suite, but it was great meeting you."
"Yeah, definitely. The deflowering ritual's in October, so maybe we can chat more until then so we're more comfortable when the time comes."
"Sure, sounds cool, but I'd be comfortable even if it happened now."
"Not me. I need the extra time, and I've been douching every day to practice getting used to it. I mean, I'm signing up for a dorm life of complete submission. I'm essentially a mindless cumdump with no ability to say 'no.' A sex slave, if you will."
"But you're okay with that, right?"
A tighter smile spanned his face. "I've never had any kind of sex in my life, much less kiss anyone, so we'll see."
Fuck, he was 100% virgin? Not even a kiss? Then again, Lincoln had had no experience. Would Jerrick be a quick learner? And what about taking my size? "I didn't know about that."
"No one did until now. Buff found me and thought I was perfect for the role. I'm required to be celibate until the ritual, not that it's a problem."
"You have to be at least a little nervous."
"Beyond nervous, actually. I graduated from a Catholic private school, and I needed to escape my parents who still try to control my life."
That made sense. He'd probably been willing to do anything to leave, even if it meant whoring himself as a cumdump with no brain. Could things have been that terrible, though? It was one thing for someone who was deeply interested in fulfilling the role, but a complete virgin in every way with no signs of excitement?
Hmm.
"I also heard about you being a monster down there," Jerrick added. "So, yeah." While he probably tried to hide his emotions, I could tell he was uneasy about it. But why sign up in the first place?
"I'd go easy on you. No rush. I can be gentle and very considerate, so no worries there."
"Oh, good. Given that not all guys are like you, I'm relieved."
"No problem. See you around?"
He nodded. "Yeah, take care. And I'll give you whatever updates I find out about Joker."
"Really appreciate that, thanks." I finally left and went up to the fourth floor, heading back to the Peters' suite. I used my new keycard and entered. It smelled like sweat, musk, and man sex in here.
"Ungh, I'm coming...I'm coming...here it comes...ungh..."
Himbo's big ass moved like jello as it bounced on Fabio's dick while fucking cowboy-style on the couch, both sweating. Given there was no condom, Fabio flooded Himbo's hole in grunts, followed by Himbo's dramatic roar as he shot on Fabio's chest.
Meanwhile, Hush sat next to them getting a devoted blowjob from Twunky, but his eyes were deeply focused on some girl-on-girl action playing on his phone. By his breathing, he was probably close to nutting inside Twunky's mouth.
I was hard watching them, especially Twunky on his knees, his delicious ass begging to be used. But Lincoln's health got to me and decreased my mood. A part of me wished I wouldn't have switched rooms. But would it have been worse?
I walked inside my new room that still felt like Buff's. I wasn't in the mood to deal with him and his crooked smirk. He either didn't know about Lincoln to justify seeming fine, or he didn't care. After setting my backpack aside, I blew a big breath. "Heard about Lincoln?"
"Of course. We're family. Why wouldn't I have?"
I wrinkled my forehead. "And you're not upset or anything?"
Buff shrugged with a nonchalant expression. "I mean, he didn't die or anything. He clearly just wanted the attention, and I'm not giving it to him."
I couldn't believe it. I wasn't exactly shocked, but I was still stunned in some ways. I couldn't tell if he hated Lincoln that much or if he was just a psychopath with no ability to feel compassion. I didn't care what Lincoln had done to me. I still wanted him to be better. "Can you at least tell me why he did it? Do you know when he's coming back?"
"That's family business. Not your concern. By the way, you're missing out on some hot sex going on with the Peters. I got a good blowjob out of them and I'm already getting horny again."
I rolled my eyes and sighed, shaking my head. I left to go to the bathroom. I shut the door and pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket to leave Lincoln a voicemail. After the beep, it took me a few seconds to start speaking.
"Hey, Lincoln, it's Pete. Please just hear me out. I'm really sorry about what you're going through, and I won't pretend there's a magic fix even though I don't know what it's like to feel what you're feeling. I know things between us have been rocky, and I honestly wish I could've felt the same way because maybe we would've been happy together. But maybe that's not what it is. Maybe there's something else. The club? Life? I don't know. What I do know is that the past is the past now, and if you ever need a friend to talk to and get support from, I'm always there for you. I'm so glad you're alive." My eyes watered, and I controlled myself. "Please get better, Lincoln. I'm so sorry about everything. Please don't shut me out. If you need time, I'll give it to you. Hope to hear from you soon. Take care of yourself."
I ended the call and stuffed my phone back inside my pocket. It was amazing how I could both love and hate a school so much when the school itself had nothing to do with it. It was the Peters club, and the daily reminder of being stuck as a four-year member taunted me. I'd been blackmailed, taunted, and had had my car destroyed. But maybe it wasn't even the club itself. Clubs didn't do this shit; people did. In theory, the club itself was an awesome idea, what with the hot sex with the equally-hot Peters and forming a tight brotherhood with trusted members. But it only worked with the right leader. Yeah, there was already a new leader.
But it was time for a newer one.
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To be continued...
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DISCLAIMER: All character names/details in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.