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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Author: Benny D dreamer
last update Last Updated: 2025-05-04 23:03:35
CALEB.

I wake up the next morning with a tongue as thick as mud and as dry as sandpaper plus my stomach rolls with every little movement. My head throbs like it’d been hit multiple times. My hoodie smells like liquor and drool and weed.

There’s a vague memory of Vanya trying to drag me home, it felt like I actually went with her. Must have been a dream, that’s why I’m here in a jumbled mess of arms and limbs on the couch. My phone is wedged under my hip, buzzing.

06:06 AM. Saturday, 24 September. Thank fuck it’s the weekend.

Vanya is nowhere to be found.

As I try to pull my legs out of the mess, I feel something rough against my skin. A damn sequin dress. Red and glittery. I remember it from last night. Of course I fucking remember. Chris. I think his name is Chris. Chris in bright red sequin dress pirouetting like he was born in it.

It started as a joke, he came in already wasted, dared himself to wear a dress which he got from god-knows-where. Next thing he strutted
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  • SWEET DEBAUCHERY: AN M/M COLLEGE, CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE   CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

    CALEB’S POVIt’s Sunday Service. Too warm. Too many people in the same pressed clothes pretending they don’t hate each other.Pastor Williams is droning on about gratitude, and I'm trying to look appropriately grateful while mentally taking notes of all the ways Tim's shirt is too tight across his shoulders.He hasn’t looked at me once and I’ve looked at him four times already.Mom sits to my left like a statue carved from disappointment and Chanel No. 5. Dad's on my right, adjusting his watch like the sermon might end early if he stares hard enough.Meanwhile, I'm three pews back from Ellie and her fiancé, pretending I don't know exactly how Tim's hands feel when they're not folded in prayer. The slope of his neck beneath my hands.Tim shifts in his seat, and I catch the way his dress shirt pulls slightly at the back. Days and days of knowing that body, and I still can't look at him in public without my brain short-circuiting. He reaches over to hold Ellie's hand—such a good Christia

  • SWEET DEBAUCHERY: AN M/M COLLEGE, CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE   CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

    TONY’S POVI can't decide if staying back for Thanksgiving was stupid or just hopeful.Luke never said he wanted to spend the break together. I just assumed. I pictured us having actual time—no practice schedules, no teammates hanging around, no pretending we're just friends who happen to spend every free moment together. I thought maybe we'd cook something terrible in our kitchen, or he'd finally sleep over without setting an alarm for five AM.But Luke's been gone more than he's been here. Road trips. Team dinners. Something about "building chemistry" with the guys. He texts me updates like I'm his mom: "heading to Burlington," "back Sunday maybe," "coach is being crazy."I don't text back much anymore.The apartment feels huge without Vanya. Her room is across the hall, door cracked open like she might walk back in any second. But she won't. She's in Ashwick, probably helping her mom with pie crust and pretending everything's normal. At least that was the plan.I made soup yesterda

  • SWEET DEBAUCHERY: AN M/M COLLEGE, CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE   CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

    CALEBS POVEllie’s talking about the weather. “It’s supposed to dip below thirty this weekend. I told Mom to wrap the pipes, but you know how she gets.”Tim keeps shifting beside me, slow and lazy. His thigh presses into mine again. He hasn’t moved it since he got in the car.I stare out the window, watching the houses blur by. Nothing looks different. Same cracked sidewalks. Same half-dead lawns. Same old Christmas lights some idiot never took down.Ellie taps her fingers on the steering wheel, humming along to a Christian station playing something acoustic and too cheerful. She keeps glancing back at us like we’re adorable. “You boys have barely said two words.”“We’re conserving energy,” Tim says.His voice is low. He doesn’t look at me. There’s no need too.Ellie wants us to be friends. Real close. If only she knew how close we already are. Just not in the safe-for-family-dinner way she’s hoping for.Ellie laughs. “Well, save some of that energy for helping unload. Mom made me p

  • SWEET DEBAUCHERY: AN M/M COLLEGE, CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE   CHAPTER THIRTY

    CALEBS POV Three weeks go by so fast in a blur of fading bruises, make-up quizzes, group meetings where I nod almost the entire time and hope no one notices I’m behind, and Vanya won’t stop emailing me tutor recommendations. She acts like it’s her new full-time job. I’ve been floating through it all, my body still catching up to the fact that I was mugged, like, outside a library. I still instinctively flinch whenever I hear fast footsteps behind me sometimes. By some divine intervention I didn’t fail. Barely scraped through most of my midterms, but Vanya was right—I do need help. I didn’t argue when she said it. Just nodded like some tired, broken toy. Somehow, against all odds, I passed. It felt like the universe decided I’d had enough for one season. The group project is still going, though I’m barely involved. They give me the slides to format, which takes five minutes max. It’s like they know I’m not all there, and I can’t even be mad. They’re not wrong. I’m tired in

  • SWEET DEBAUCHERY: AN M/M COLLEGE, CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE   CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

    CALEB’S POVIt’s almost thanksgiving. Well, three weeks to thanksgiving. The weather’s getting colder by the day but not cold enough for snow. Leaves turning brittle, crisp wind cutting a little sharper when it brushes past my neck. Thanksgiving’s three weeks away and I swear it feels like I’m on borrowed time. Everyone’s talking about going home—travel plans, family dinners, stupid traditions they can’t wait to get back to.The midterms were…. shitty. I don’t even have to check my student portal. I already know I’m failing Social psychology, Research Methods and statistics. I’m not brave enough to face my failures.Is it normal for a psych major to feel this clueless about their own mind? How could I explain someone else’s?In psych, we’ve got a group project and I’m barely in it. No one gave me a task. I tried to offer once and I got talked over. Now I just sit through meetings while they plan things around me like I’m furniture. And maybe that should’ve felt like a blessing. N

  • SWEET DEBAUCHERY: AN M/M COLLEGE, CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE   CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

    TONY’S POVI float back to consciousness, the first light of morning leaking in, as Luke’s hand glides from my shoulder down my back to settle warm and possessive over my ass. He kisses the spot where my hair meets skin, his hand still fondling my ass without shame or hurry.“Lukas..” I mumble, roughly.“Mm?” he hums, his hand still lazily roaming over my skin.“You know I’d let you do anything to me right?”I feel his body still behind me, just slightly.“Anything?” he asks guardedly.“Yeah,” I whisper. “Even when I’m not… like, totally awake to agree.”A silence falls like a boulder. I instantly regret it.“What?” His voice sharpens, confused and on high alert. “Are you still drunk?”“No—I’m not.” I shift, suddenly self-conscious under his stare. “I just meant… if it’s something you want—if that’s something that ever crosses your mind—I wouldn’t say no.”He pulls away completely, the warmth of him vanishing from my back like I imagined it. He sits up, and I do too, chilled.“Why are

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