Prologue Two

2 Years Ago…

My head is throbbing to its own mariachi beat, my throat feels like something died in it, and I want to kill whoever invented sunrises. I don't remember everything from the night before, but I remember Jamie buying multiple rounds trying to impress some sorority sisters from the University of Southern California. Something about how Phi Alpha Delta brothers would take good care of them. And then I threw up.

Tequila is the devil. Never again.

My boner is straining my boxers as I press it into something hard. It feels good, so I don't move. That's normal for me, since I have issues around masturbating and sex. Jamie calls it my Catholic guilt.

None of the girls at the bar the night before caught my interest, but they rarely do. I'd get drunk at a party, some girl would offer to blow me, and I get off. It satiates my need for a couple days, then I go to church and ask forgiveness. After I do a bunch of Hail Mary's and our fathers, I feel better about it, then I'm back to morning wood.

But I don't like hookups. They feel empty and unfulfilling.

If it wasn't in a fraternity, or best friends with JJ Horowitz, I wouldn't do Spring Break trips to Mexico, either. Every year, I say I am going to stay back and study, but he buys the tickets anyway and drags me along. Jamie leaves nothing to chance.

When we were freshmen, Jamie got my mom's number from me while I was drunk and she sent my documents to order me a passport. She thinks he's delightful and my dad likes that Jamie brings me out of my shell. I like that about him too, but this is the fourth year in a row I drank too much and got sick in Mexico with him.

Maybe I should avoid any situation where I get drunk. I make bad choices, like listening to Jamie.

A spicy scent fills my lungs as I breathe in deep, groaning at how good the pressure on my dick feels. I should go have a shower and just take care of it. Ignore the memories of Sister Maria-Theresa telling me I'll go blind. But I'm so warm and cozy. Almost too warm.

Lifting my hand to brush the sweaty hair off my forehead, I realize my head isn't on a pillow but something harder. Blinking my eyes open against the crust sealing them closed, I see a nipple only inches away. A nipple surrounded by dark hair.

"Took you long enough," a deep, gravely voice complains and I freeze. I know that voice, and I connect it to the scent. My best friend chuckles, "You gonna hump me all morning or can I take a piss?"

"Shit," I roll over to my bed and face the bright light streaming in through the partially open curtains.

Thankfully, my boner deflates from the embarrassment while Jamie pads into the bathroom in our motel room. I must have crawled into his bed after peeing in the middle of the night and cuddled right up to him. I'm surprised he didn't shove me off, since the second bed is pushed right up against his.

They like to pretend they have queen beds in Mexico, but I've found that isn't true at the places we've stayed in Cancun. It was weird the first year, but the half inch gap between our beds didn't bother me when I was falling into bed drunk.

"I'm starving. We should eat before packing." Jamie flops down onto the mattress, reaching over to poke me in the back, "What are you in the mood for?"

"No food yet." Groaning at my sour stomach, I turn over to look at Jamie, "I can't believe you ditched everyone last night to take care of me. I bet the other guys hooked up with those girls from California."

Jamie smirks, "Bros before h–" I reach out to cover his mouth before he can finish the sentence.

"Hell, no." Jamie licks my hand and I drop it to the pillow between us. It's not the first time he's licked me, probably won't be the last. "I think our frat brothers objectified women enough last night."

"I was just going to say… bros before does," Jamie finishes with his usual confidence and a charming smile. He will make a great lawyer.

"Oh really?" I chuckle at my friend, not believing him but unable to avoid joining in his infectious grin. "Not pals before gals?"

Jamie rubs his stubbled chin, pretending to think hard. "Guys before thighs."

"Hey, I have thighs," I shove at his shoulder and he shoves me back until we're wrestling on the crack between the beds. When we're both panting and laughing I pull back to catch my breath.

"I'd say your thighs are thicker than my usual," he grips my thigh and I take in a sharp breath at the unexpected touch to my bare skin. I'm more hard-up to get off than I thought. Jamie doesn't notice and squeezes me again, higher up. "Really, they're just more hairy."

"I need to take a shower," I blurt in his face and jump up. It makes me dizzy, but I ignore the feeling and use the wall to help me get into the bathroom. "Just pick a place."

Jamie and I had been rooming together in the Frat house since our junior year, so I was used to sharing a space with him. Including the bathroom. We're only a month from graduating with our Bachelor's degrees, and he is planning to rent a place for us to share. Looking at the mess he left behind, I have to wonder if my insistence on not needing two bedrooms and bathrooms is misplaced.

After tidying up his things on the counter and floor, I grab my toothbrush and hop into the tiled shower. After taking care of my morning breath, I take hold of my dick to make it calm down. Days of dancing on the beach and chatting with girls in bikinis was probably more than my cock could handle without some relief.

Growing up with three sisters and a brother, plus our parents all sharing one bathroom in our New Jersey townhome with limited hot water, I learned how to get myself off quickly. The hard part is not thinking about anything but the physical action so I feel less guilty afterwards.

Jamie would say, fuck your guilt and any higher power that doesn't want you to feel good.

My hand moves my foreskin over the head just right, and I'm shooting across the shower floor and biting my lip to stay quiet. The water washes it away before I can even open my eyes, and I grab the shampoo to get myself clean. Do I wish I could come without all the internal struggle? Yes, but it's not important.

A loud banging startles me and I turn the water off. "James, let's go eat," one of our frat brothers yells through the door. They all call out James for both of us instead of saying two names. It is more efficient, since we're often together.

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I push my dirty blond hair out of my eyes and open the bathroom door to see Jamie is already half-dressed.

"We're coming," Jamie answers for both of us while throwing clothes into his suitcase without care.

"Guess they didn't stay out as late as we thought," I comment on my way to grab clothes I should have brought into the bathroom with me if I hadn't been in such a rush.

"They know how to party all night and get to class the next day, we shouldn't be surprised," Jamie chuckles and starts looking around for anything he might have missed. "Another fun trip, Teddy. Think we'll do it again next year?"

"I'm never doing Cancun again," I groan into my shirt and realize I wore my contacts to bed. No wonder my eyes hurt. "Plus we'll be buried under homework in law school."

Jamie nods and pulls my half-packed suitcase out before turning his best puppy dog eyes on me, "Fair, but you have to promise this won't be our last college vacation."

My hungover body wants to say no, he'll just get me into trouble, but I can't deny my best friend. "Sure, Jamie. We'll go on vacation again. Maybe without the Spring Break crowds next time?"

"Promise," Jamie pats me on the back and goes into the bathroom. His grin says he'll still get me into trouble, but I'd let that man drag me anywhere.