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“Cosmopolitan,” Connor barked at me, staring at a recipe on his phone. He was clean-shaven tonight, clad in a navy polo shirt, short khaki shorts, and his ever-present boat shoes. “One shot of vodka, one shot of cranberry, and half a shot of triple sec. Squeeze half a lime on top and shake it. You got it?”

I nodded. I’d walked into the frat house off duty, a whole week left until I was due to start my pledge rotation again. I spent a couple hours immersed in the party, a drink in my hand as the music boomed and I mingled with the raucous crowd of bros and sorority girls. And then my big bro found me, plucking me away and dragging me into the kitchen. He pressed me into his personal service, insisting that I practice mixing cocktails. The frat never offered a full bar, but he explained that he wanted to be able to serve something besides keg beer or the random punch the pledges had concocted to girls he had his eyes on. Of course it was my job to make it happen.

Connor had intentionally given me a double shot glass to make my work more difficult, the whole endeavor challenging enough after drinking for hours, but I was trying to do the best I could. I followed his directions, vigorously rocking the ingredients in a shaker full of ice and straining the mixture into a cup. I handed it to him.

He raised the cup up to his lips and tasted the drink, immediately spitting it back out. “Too much triple sec, pledge,” Connor pronounced, glaring at me like he was disappointed. “We’re mixing drinks for sluts, not taking shots up in my room. Drink your mistake.”

He’d already ordered me to do that three times, seeming to relish in watching me slurp down his backwash as he drank a cup of punch. “Sorry,” I mumbled, grasping the cup from his hand and taking a sip.

Connor grinned at me like he was eating up my obedience. “Practice makes perfect. Come on, chug it like the others.”

I downed the cosmopolitan as quickly as I could, tilting the cup to get the last drops.

“Good. Now make it again,” Connor demanded. “Make it right this time so I can give it to someone I want to fuck and not be ashamed of it. You need me to repeat the recipe?”

“One shot vodka, one shot cranberry, half a shot of triple sec,” I belted out. “Squeeze half a lime and shake.”

His face lit up as he laughed. “Good, pledge. Mix!”

I made the drink, following exactly the same steps I’d followed before and handing it over to him.

Connor sipped it, gazing at me intently. “Perfect,” he declared. “Maybe I didn’t make a mistake picking you after all, little bro.”

“Thanks,” I said, trying not to sound annoyed. I knew the drink was exactly the same. The whole taste test thing was a game, one I couldn’t possibly win. He was my big bro now, but he was obviously still hazing me.

Connor peered into the living room where everyone else was busy having fun, his mouth dropping open. “Oh shit,” he muttered, instantly seeming totally captivated. “It’s my white whale. Make another cosmopolitan, pledge.” He snapped his fingers. “This is exactly what we’ve been training for.”

I instantly jumped into action, filling the shaker with fresh ice. “Your white whale?” I asked as I measured the vodka. My big bro was still looking out into the living room intently when I glanced at him, like he was totally obsessed.

“You ever heard anyone else talking about a Kappa named Michelle? Probably not, she barely shows up here.”

I poured the cranberry juice into the shaker. “Nope,” I answered, struggling to fill the double shot glass exactly one fourth full with triple sec.

Connor tapped me on the arm after watching me pour it. “You’ve got to see her,” he insisted, nodding his head toward the center of the crowd. “Long blond hair, huge tits. She’s wearing a blue dress.”

“Oh yeah,” I said when I sighted Michelle. She looked like any other standard-issue sorority girl to me, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. “She is really hot.”

“Hot as fuck, single, and none of the other brothers have ever managed to bed her. Who knows, maybe she’ll think you’re hot. I would totally fuck her with you. Mix!” Connor ordered, urgently snapping his fingers again.

Just imagining fucking someone else with him had my dick filling out in my shorts. The remark was the first remotely sexual thing my big bro had said to me since the night in his room a week ago. Neither of us had uttered another word about what happened after we busted, just cleaning up, putting our clothes back on, and casually hanging out until Connor dismissed me. For all I knew, it was a one time thing we weren’t ever going to talk about or repeat again.

I cut into a fresh lime, taking half and squeezing the juice into the shaker. “How is she not all over you?” I asked as I capped it. I figured Connor would appreciate my flattery, and I was right.

He smirked, obviously basking in his reputation as I shook the drink. “She will be,” he said firmly. “It’s just a matter of time. I always get what I want.”

I poured the cosmopolitan Ankara escort into a fresh cup, my big bro immediately grasping it.

Connor eyed me menacingly. “This one better be fucking perfect, because it’s her favorite drink. Two old fashioneds for when I come back,” he demanded, a slight smile quickly breaking across his face. “If I come back, anyway. Two shots of bourbon, a few dashes of bitters, and a teaspoon of sugar. Don’t shake that shit. Throw some ice cubes in the cup and stir it. You got it?”

I nodded my head as Connor bolted away, grateful that he wasn’t there to lord over me anymore. He’d talked about being real friends when we were up in his room together, but in the week since he’d also taken every opportunity to make me feel like I was still beneath him, like having me mix drinks and then forcing me to guzzle down the ones he spit out. I really didn’t know where we stood. Did we actually bond that night or had I just given him permission to make me his bitch?

Looking out into the living room, I watched my big bro approach Michelle, offering her the cosmopolitan I’d made. She took the drink as he flashed his trademark smile at her, raising his arm up and pointing directly at me. She glanced over and waved, and I instinctively waved back. What was Connor even saying right now? Was he bragging that I was actually a decent bartender? Was he really trying to find out if she thought I was hot?

I quickly stopped thinking about myself, remembering that he’d described Michelle as an impossible conquest. My big bro could be back at any moment, ready for his meager consolation prize. I started measuring ingredients for the old fashioneds, getting them ready just in case. Dropping ice cubes into the cups and stirring the drinks, I looked back out at the living room, not seeing Connor or Michelle.

After waiting in the kitchen for five minutes, I started to think he might have actually succeeded with his white whale. Why was I still standing here waiting around if he wasn’t coming back?

“I’m bored,” Connor suddenly muttered beside me, his voice listless.

I turned, realizing he’d walked into the kitchen from the other side of the house. My big bro looked dejected, and I shot him a sympathetic glance. “No luck?”

His eyebrows arched up. “Shut up, pledge.” Connor grabbed one of the drinks I’d prepared, downing the whole thing in three long gulps.

“Did I get it right?” I asked, desperate for his approval even if it was a game. The old fashioned was the only drink I’d made that he hadn’t immediately spat back into the cup on the first try.

“Yeah,” Connor mumbled. “Why is yours still full? You know you need the fucking practice.”

I picked up the second cup and gulped the drink down, following my big bro’s lead.

“Tastes right?” he asked.

I could barely taste it downing it that fast, and I didn’t even know what an old fashioned was supposed to taste like. I’d never actually had one until he ordered me to make two of them. “Yeah,” I said anyway. “Perfect.”

Connor smiled at me. “You can’t drink beer for shit, little bro, but at least you’re a decent bartender.” He lifted his cup to his mouth again, loudly sucking at it even though it was empty.

“You want me to make you another one?”

“No, I think I’m over this shit down here.” He waved his hand dismissively. “You’re off bar duty for tonight. I’m not going to waste my time trying again. You want to just hang out?”

I felt relieved stepping back from the bottles of booze. “Sure,” I said, thinking we were both going to disappear into the party.

“You know that’s our family shit, right?” Connor reprimanded sternly, pointing at the counter. “Pack it back up.”

When he’d dragged me away from the party and ordered me to start making drinks, I had no idea the bottles I was pulling out of the cardboard box actually belonged to him. “Sorry,” I muttered, instantly returning to the counter and beginning to refill the box.

“I’m going to get her eventually,” Connor declared beside me, apparently still obsessed. “Sooner or later, I’m going to get her.”

He was blankly staring at the crowd in the living room when I glanced at his face. “You know the quest for the whale eventually destroys the captain, right?” I asked playfully, depositing the last bottle of the family booze back into the box.

Connor’s head twisted, an incredulous look on his face. “Since when are you a fucking English major?” he grumbled. “Don’t tell me that shit! Come on, let’s go back up to my room.”

I already knew he was expecting me to carry the family booze stash, carefully taking the box full of alcohol into my arms. We navigated the drunken chaos of the frat party, finally beginning to make our way up the staircase.

“If I don’t get Michelle, it’s your job,” Connor said matter-of-factly as we climbed up to the third floor of the house. “She said you were really cute.”

“She did?” Even if I didn’t think she was anything special, I liked hearing it.

He Ankara escort bayan laughed as we reached the third floor hallway. “You fucking wish, pledge.”

We walked into Connor’s room, finding Joey there sprawled out on his bed and covered with a sheet. I could see the annoyed look on my big bro’s face as he motioned toward his closet.

“Put that back in there, little bro,” he said calmly.

I started toward his closet with the box.

“God damn it, Plank!” Connor erupted behind me, just as I settled his booze collection down on a shelf. “Why the fuck are you up here this early?”

“I’m too drunk, bro,” he slurred.

“Yeah, what else is new?” Connor pointed at me. “I’m with my little again, dipshit. Get up and go find something else to do.”

Joey groaned loudly in his bed. “You can hang out with him while I’m here,” he protested.

Connor snickered, shaking his head. “No, I’m not running a damn wildlife sanctuary in here, Plank. Get up and get fucking lost. Go sleep on your couch in the library if you’re already that fucking wasted.”

“Bro,” Joey mumbled, letting out a sigh. “You know I don’t even fit on that couch.”

“You don’t fit on that bed either, but you make it work,” Connor snarled, folding his arms across his chest. “You’re not going to be across the room snoring while I mentor my little. Maybe you’d appreciate that if anyone trusted you to have one. Out!”

The mention of mentoring instantly excited me. I knew my big bro wanted us to be alone for a reason. Joey pulled his sheet back and slowly crept up, glaring at me when he passed by like the situation was my fault. He didn’t bother to close the door as he disappeared down the hallway. I hated watching the guy get mercilessly berated, but what could I do? I was just taking orders from Connor too. He wanted to come up here and I fell right in line.

Connor strutted toward his battered leather chair and sunk into it, a smug expression on his face as he stretched his toned legs out and looked at me. “Lock it,” he ordered, pointing at the door.

Another wave of excitement surged through me as I pushed the door shut and locked it, wondering what would happen in the privacy of my big bro’s room this time. The resentment I’d felt after being treated like a lowly pledge all week suddenly faded away. I realized that it was all a show, just a game we were playing for the others. This is where Connor told me the truth, secreted away behind the closed door. I turned around, standing at attention like I was waiting for his instructions.

“Grab us a couple beers,” Connor said gently, sounding relaxed now that he’d run his roommate off. His whole demeanor seemed to have changed.

Were we going to bond again? I wanted it more than anything. I trotted toward my big bro’s mini-fridge, grabbing two cans.

“Open those up and have a seat on the floor in front of me,” Connor instructed as I walked back toward him.

Knowing that he wanted me in that position, I was already expecting something sexual to happen, and this time I was eagerly anticipating it. I was almost craving to be in the headspace I’d inhabited last week as I knelt down on the floor, crossing my legs in front of myself. I cracked a beer open, my big bro’s hand reaching out expectantly.

Connor grabbed the can and took a long sip, looking down at me. “He’s so fucking jealous of you,” he said, nodding toward his roommate’s bed.

“You think so?” I asked as I opened my beer.

“Yeah, definitely. Plank can already tell that I actually like you.”

I felt like a teenage girl with a crush hearing my big bro say that he liked me. I’d been craving his approval since the very first time we had a conversation, and now I felt even better about being treated like a pledge all week. I was already pretty drunk, but I gulped some beer down anyway. “Why are you guys even roommates?” I wondered.

“I only let him live in my room because I knew I’d be able to walk all over him,” Connor explained, a proud smile on his face. “Snap my fingers and the big giraffe scampers away. Not that anyone else wanted him. He’s basically the house stray.”

I felt sorry for the guy again, imagining Connor kicking him out of the room all the time. “Do you have to…you know, be so harsh about it, though?” I asked.

Connor stared into me for a few seconds, swallowing more beer and burping loudly. “Pretty much,” he answered. “Don’t start feeling bad for Plank, little bro. You have no idea how much drunken shit he’s pulled over the years. The guy needs a firm hand.”

I nodded. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Well, no shit,” he said dismissively. “How the fuck would you know? Trust me, he’s not like us. Most of the women tall enough to make eye contact ogle him like they want to climb to heaven, but he’s usually too drunk to even take advantage. I’ve seen the way you flirt. You’re good.”

I felt shocked that he’d been watching me that closely. “As good as you are?” I joked, cracking a smile.

Connor Escort Ankara laughed up above me. “Maybe someday.” He swallowed another substantial swig of beer and looked into my eyes. “Did you enjoy getting off together last time?”

Even if I did want to do it again, I wasn’t expecting my big bro to be so bold about bringing it up. I felt my pulse quicken, my face flushing.

“Don’t look so embarrassed about it, man,” he added before I could answer. “I already know you did.”

“Yeah, I enjoyed it,” I admitted. I loved bonding with him.

Connor nodded. “Have you ever done anything like that before? You know you can tell me the truth.”

I vigorously shook my head. “No, never.” The closest I’d ever come was seeing other guys naked in the locker room after track practice, and that wasn’t remotely sexual.

“That’s cool,” he said, pausing as he seemed to carefully consider his next words. “You know I love getting laid, but it was actually really fun to hang with another horny guy and just…bask in masculinity. I liked seeing you jack off and enjoy yourself.” Connor looked at me like he expected a comment.

“There was something really hot about it.” I took a drink, feeling my hard dick straining against my boxer briefs just remembering the scene.

He smiled warmly. “Was it weird when I made you touch me?”

“Yeah, at first,” I confessed, thinking about how repulsive the idea had initially seemed. “But then I understood why you made me do it.” We’d shared something special together, and we were closer because we had.

Connor nodded approvingly like he understood exactly what I meant. He slowly took a few sips of beer, studiously observing my face. “Guys have way too many hang-ups about expressing physical affection for each other,” he said after a few moments. “It’s really fucking stupid when you think about how close women are with their friends.”

“I definitely liked feeling closer to you.” For a second I worried that must have sounded obnoxiously gay, but Connor didn’t seem to mind.

“Me too, little bro,” he agreed, glancing down at his boat shoes. “Speaking of, it’s been another long fucking day. Want to take my shoes off and help me relax again?”

This time it was a question, not a glaring order sprinkled with reminders that I was still a pledge, and I knew he was completely serious. He wanted us to be closer, and I felt excited, actually wanting to touch my big bro’s body again. I didn’t say anything, just reaching out and lifting his ankle up, carefully pulling the brown Sperry from his foot with my other hand.

Connor looked thrilled, a gleeful glint of anticipation in his brown eyes. “You should get down on the ground like you were last time,” he suggested.

“Sure.” I repositioned my body, kneeling in front of him the same way I had last week. My face was just inches away from his bare foot, Connor’s powerful scent immediately flooding over me, and I sniffed at the air without even thinking, almost desperate to take it in.

He picked up on it, smirking up above me. “You said you liked the way I smelled last time, didn’t you?”

I laughed slightly, barely believing those words had escaped my mouth even if it was the truth. “I guess I did.”

“You guess?” Connor pressed. “It’s cool, bro. I really like that you like it.” He pointed down at his shoe. “I want to watch you smell it.”

I grasped the battered old Sperry, eagerly pressing it to my nose and inhaling deeply, the scent of my big bro’s feet completely overwhelming me.

“You going to act like you don’t like it now?”

I took another deep whiff of his boat shoe. “Nope,” I whispered, almost intoxicated by the intensity of his scent. My cock was raging at full mast already, totally desperate for release.

Connor looked ridiculously entertained that I seemed to be getting off on his scent. “What does it smell like?” he asked.

“Masculinity,” I said at first, gazing up at his smug face. “And power.”

He grinned, slapping a hand against his knee and chuckling. “Power,” Connor repeated. “I like that one. Smell that other shoe too. Take your big bro’s power in.”

I really wished I could, as I removed his other shoe and planted my nose inside it, inhaling deeply. After looking up to him all semester, the idea that he could somehow actually be a part of me was intensely thrilling.

“I am powerful,” Connor declared as I devoured his scent. “You’ve seen the way I walk all over Plank. Trust me, he’s not the only one. You’re really lucky you’re special, Ethan.”

Hearing him call me special and knowing that he genuinely enjoyed my admiration, I felt desperate to make him happy again. I dropped the Sperry to the floor, gripping one of my big bro’s feet with both my hands and starting to massage it.

“Oh shit,” Connor murmured up above me. “That feels so good, little bro. You really learned a lot last week, didn’t you?”

I smiled at his praise, wrapping my hands around his other foot, my fingers tracing across every inch of the top, his soles, his toes. I dug into Connor’s supple skin, hearing him quietly moaning above me. When I looked up, his head was sunk back against the old recliner, his dick clearly rock hard in his shorts too. My big bro’s mouth was gaping open when he finally stared down at me, our eyes meeting.

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