Owen is the center of attention and I couldn’t be more proud.
I’ve never really even hung out with a guy like Owen before. He’s a sophomore in the compsci program and he’s one of the drop-in tutors for my compsci 101 class, so I ended up getting a lot of help from him trying to wrap my mind around for-loops and quick sort and that shit. Then I started going into drop-in tutoring just to talk to him because I found him so charming and so funny. One thing led to another and I ended up inviting him over to a frat party.
We both agreed that it probably wouldn’t be his scene but that he should try it out anyway. Worst case scenario, he’d have a couple drinks and head back to his dorm and I’d see him the next day for drop-in tutoring. Otherwise, we’d have some fun with the guys and then go shoot the shit in the rugby field.
This definitely isn’t the worst case scenario, I will say. He has everyone eating out of the palm of his paws. I guess the other frat guys are equally impressed by his nerdish charisma because everyone is freaking in love with him. I sit back and watch the conversation unfold, his spirited debate about illicit words you can write on graphing calculators with my buddy Rufus. He has a perfect response to everything all the guys throw at him.
And I’m just proud, I guess. We both thought he wouldn’t fit in and he’s fitting in perfectly.
When the group clears out, it’s just me and Owen in the basement of the frat house. He’s a little drunk and I’m a little drunk and we’re both all smiles. We’re sitting on the couch with maybe only six inches of space between us. My arm is up on the couch behind him.
“Dude,” I say. “You were a freakin’ rockstar tonight.”
“Nooo…”
“Yeah, man. Everyone loved you.”
“You think so?”
“You were the center of that conversation.”
“Oh my god, do you think so?”
“Yeah!”
“Do you think everyone could tell I was scared shitless?”
“Dude, no. You were so cool.”
He sinks a little into the couch and hugs a pillow, grinning.
I laugh. “What are you so happy about?”
“It just feels good to be included.”
“You weren’t just included, dude.”
“Yeah yeah. But I’ve never been a guy’s guy like you, you know? I’ve never been able to just hang out with a group of guys and do that kind of thing like you can. I’ve never been in a big bro circle jerk.”
I lean in. “Is that what you think we’re doing all the time?”
“I mean, yes?”
“Like seriously?”
“I mean I’m kind of under the impression that all bro-y guys have done that at some point or another. I feel like guys are constantly bro-ing out with each other. Comparing dicks and jerking off to VHS porn and fucking each other when they break up with their girlfriends.”
I laugh. “I’ve never done that.”
“Well then, I guess you’re not a real bro.”
“Hey! You can’t say that!”
“I’m not a real bro either! It’s okay!”
“You deserve to be a real bro.”
“You too.”
It’s silent for a moment. “So…”
He chuckles. “So… if that’s what makes a guy a real bro…”
I don’t know what comes over me. “You think we should try it?”
He doesn’t need any time to respond. “I mean, if it’ll finally give us our guy cards, right?”
“Yeah yeah yeah. Maybe we should try it.”
Owen grins. “Wait wait wait, are we doing this?”
I put my paw on my belt buckle. “I mean…” I stand up and let my pants drop to the floor. I’m standing in front of him now in just my muscle tank and a pair of white briefs.
“Dude!” he exclaims.
“What are you doing dudeing me if you’re not a bro?”
“Ughhh. Okay.” He stands up next to me and tucks his paws under the waistband of his sweatpants. He shakes his head a little, trying to muster up the courage. “Oh my god, maybe I’m not a bro.”
I step out of my pants and kick them to the side. “C’moooon. You so are.”
“Okay. Don’t. Um. Judge me.”
“Hey. Do guys judge each other?”
“Sometimes!”
“But do bros judge each other?”
He bites his lip. “No.”
“So?”
He drops his sweatpants to the floor and grins. “So.”
Owen is so cute. He’s this little tan dog with big blue eyes wearing a sweater patterned like a grassy field and a star necklace. Even his underwear is cute, these black-and-white checkered boxer briefs that are shaped around his thin thighs perfectly.
But what’s not cute is his bulge – that thing is bigger than mine while I’m hard.
“Have we bro-ed out yet?” he asks.
“Mmmmmm,” I say. “I’m not sure.”
“Okay, well. You’re the resident frat boy, so I’ll let you decide.”
I can’t help but grin at that. “Hmmmm… I think we should probably… compare, right?”
“Yeah yeah. I think that makes sense.”
“Just to see who the top dog is?”
“I mean, nobody said anything about Top Dog. What’s Top Dog?”
“Top Dog is whoever’s bigger.”
“But like. What does Top Dog get to do?”
“He gets the title of Top Dog.”
“That’s it? I’d think he probably gets to top in the frat bro fuck sessions.”
“Yeah. I think he gets that too.”
“Okay. So let’s see who Top Dog is, huh?”
“Let’s see!”
He smirks. “Bros first.”
“Okay!” I don’t know when I got a little hard, but sometime in between dropping trow and now I got maybe halfway there. I get the rest of the way there as I pull my dick out of my briefs and hold it in my paw. Owen is grinning like crazy. “What are you staring at?”
“You have a nice dick.”
“Really? Thanks, bro.” I’ve never had much attention given to my cock before. I’m the literal definition of average penis (I’ve checked that multiple times before with a ruler and a Wikipedia page) and it’s not really what girls are complimenting about me. “What about you?”
“Okay, okay.” He bites his lip again, his paw holding his also erect cock. He clearly has nothing to be ashamed of in there but it’s also hard to tell just how big he is with the pattern of his underwear. “Ummmm… I’ve… never done this before…”
“I know, dude. Me neither.”
“But I’ve never done… anything like this before.”
“Like you’re a virgin?”
“Yeah. Like I’ve never shown myself to anyone before.”
“I mean. That would matter if we were having sex. But we’re not having sex, right? We’re just bro-ing out.”
“Yeah. You’re right. We’re not doing anything that bros don’t do, huh?”
Owen whips it out.
I’m sure my jaw drops. The little dog’s standing in front of me with a cock twice my size and probably half his size. That thing is huge, thick at the base and tapering off into a pink head. His erect dick rests up naturally and the tip is about level with the top of his stomach. He grabs it with his paw.
“So. What are you staring at?”
“Dude.”
He laughs. “What?”
“What were you so freakin’ worried about?”
“I dunno!”
“Oh my god, you’re fucking huge. How big are you?”
“I’ve never measured.”
“I would be constantly measuring if I had that big of a pipe.”
He smiles bashfully. “I mean, you’re no slouch either.”
“Um, compared to that I totally am.”
“We haven’t even compared yet. We’re just staring at each other’s dicks.”
“You’re right. Bros compare.”
Standing across from each other, we both hold our cocks perpendicular to our bodies and line them up. Neither of us are learning anything new right now. He’s twice my size easy.
“So,” he asks with a shit-eating grin. “Who’s Top Dog?”
“I think you know the answer.”
“Say it!”
“You’re Top Dog.”
“Thank you.”
“Fuck, dude. And you’re a virgin?”
“I just never… got around to it, you know.”
“Fuck.” I laugh. “Do you think we’re bros now?”
“Wellllll…” He looks so cute standing there trying to come up with a joke with his big cock hanging out of his boxer briefs. “I think we might be bros now.”
“No joke, huh?”
“I dunno. I think we’re just bros at this point.”
“Dude. Look at us.”
“Look at us.”
And if you looked at us, you’d see two guys comparing cocks in the middle of the frat house basement.
And that’s just what Rufus does, barreling down the stairs. Neither of us have a second to think about it so we both turn to him while he stares back at us. Both of our cocks are out, pointing towards him. His face shows nothing.
“Dude,” I say. “Um.”
“Fuck yeah, broooooooos,” he bellows before collapsing on the couch, clearly shitfaced.
Owen is the first to pull his sweatpants up and creep over to him. The dog’s tent is obvious in his pants. He pokes at Rufus once, then twice. Then he checks his pulse.
“I don’t think he’ll be remembering this in the morning,” Owen says.
“Really, dude?” I say, stuffing my cock back into my briefs. “You think?”
I help Owen get him into the recovery position. We both laugh as we step back, neither of us hard anymore but the ghost of what we just did clearly still in the air. I’m a little disappointed that nothing else happened. Based on the look on Owen’s face, I think he is too.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “I don’t think there’s anything more bro-y than someone whose shit-faced walking in on you.”
He smiles. “We’re bros now.”
“Yay!”
“I think I might head to bed now.”
Oh. “Yeah. It’s like 3:30 in the morning.”
He smiles. “But I’ll see you for tutoring tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, dude, you know it.”
“Bright and early.”
He heads towards the stairs. “Bye, bro.”
“Bye, bro.”