The Video

Author's note: If you are here now, you need to read Frat House Troopers by Xavier Mayne first, otherwise this story will make no sense at all. The characters and storyline in this series are made to fit together with Frat House Troopers.

The characters and story are used with Xavier Mayne's permission. Thank you, XM, for letting me borrow Brandt and Donnelly :)

Please be warned, this series contains scenes of a graphic nature involving male on male sex. If this is not for you, don't read and don't complain. I did

warn you :) This story is purely fictional, in real life safe sex is critical and essential! Any scenes without the use of condoms are not intended to promote unprotected sex but to maintain the flow of prose.

Enjoy!

*

Donnelly left Brandt's place feeling shaky and upset.

Oh my god, what did we get ourselves into?

He'd never seen his partner so unhinged before and Donnelly was way beyond worried.

"

Don't fucking touch me!

" Brandt had screamed. The cry echoed in Donnelly's head. He had seen victims behave like that in his career. Rape victims.

Oh god. What did they make him do? Was Ethan lying about it? Did they hurt him or rape him?

Donnelly had to see that video. No matter how disturbing it might be, he had to force himself to watch it.

For Ethan

, he reminded himself, trying to settle the uneasy twisting in his gut.

All the way home in the car, Donnelly berated himself for his attitude over the last couple of days. His reaction to viewing the website for the first time. His behaviour at Camp & Dragg.

All

of it. He'd been so absorbed in the misery of having gay culture forced on him, made to look at it in all it's glory, he completely failed to see the signs of his partner's meltdown. Even now, on the drive home, Donnelly was so focused on having let his partner down, that he was doing it yet again. It didn't once occur to him that Brandt might not want his partner to see what happened. All Donnelly knew was that he needed to understand so he could be there for Ethan.

He

had

to see that video.

When he got to his place, he made a beeline for his work laptop sitting on the kitchen bench in front of a stool, hastily pulling the login details from his pocket. Donnelly wasn't looking forward to this but it was the very least he could do as far as he was concerned.

Booting up the laptop and browser, he navigated to the Str8FratDudes website and when the home page loaded, his blood ran cold. There. In the new featured section.

Oh, Ethan

.

With shaking hands, he typed in the user name and password and hit submit, then clicked on the link to Brandt's video, terrified of what would come up.

For Ethan, for Ethan

... was the litany in his mind that pushed him to go on.

Before Donnelly was ready to face it——if he ever would be——a video frame loaded and there was his partner, fully dressed in one of Bryce's ridiculous outfits, standing in a luxurious bathroom.

It wasn't obvious to anyone except Donnelly but Brandt was shit-scared. It was in his eyes, in the set of his spine. Donnelly had only seen his partner that way once before and that was when the two of them had been pursuing a child-killer and they were breaching the suspect's house, guns ready, apprehensive of discovering the mangled bodies of kids. Brandt looked exactly that way for the first few seconds of the video.

Then suddenly, Brandt's composure changed, transformed into something else Donnelly had seen before, many times. Raw, grim determination. As if a decision had just been made in his mind, Brandt took a deep breath and was all business, all the job in front of him. Donnelly's heart raced in admiration.

If he can do this, then so can I, dammit. Besides, it's not like I haven't seen him naked before.

Slowly, much slower than he did in the locker rooms at the gym, Brandt peeled off his shirt, revealing rippled abs and hard pecs, smooth, tanned and hairless.

Nothing I haven't seen before

, Donnelly reminded himself. Nonetheless, he felt a weird humming sensation at the base of his spine.

Damn, boy has got a body on him alright.

Donnelly was actually quite proud of Brandt's body on his behalf, modest as his partner was. The pair trained together all the time and Brandt worked really fucking hard. He was a work of art, every muscle superbly toned under a sheath of silky, tanned skin. But Brandt never acknowledged the admiring looks he got from men and women alike so Donnelly accepted the compliments for him.

Well, the 'art' was certainly on display now.

Brandt had his back to the camera as it panned down his body, following the receding waistline of those pornographic shorts Bryce had insisted on. Inch by inch, Ethan Brandt's fabulous body was revealed and Donnelly honestly tried to look at it clinically but whoever was operating the damn camera had a talent for framing flesh in a devastatingly erotic context. This was clearly not a G-rated film. Donnelly kept losing his train of thoughts whenever Brandt flexed a muscle and that hum at the base of his spine became more of a tingle throughout his lower body.

Who was this anonymous camera man anyway? Donnelly heard Brandt mention a Nick who had a boyfriend but wasn't gay but apparently got hardcore erections from looking at naked men. What the fuck was that? Whatever it meant, Donnelly bristled that this Nick dude was wielding a video camera with such skill, recording the humiliation of his partner.

Promptly, all thoughts of Nick and anything else trailed off to nothing as Brandt's ass came into view——two sculpted globes of masculine sex appeal.

Ah jesus

. Donnelly was just glad that they were taking their sweet ass time——

ha!

——not rushing to focus on Brandt's impressive cock just yet. Donnelly didn't have to worry about shutting his eyes just yet.

Actually, he was almost afraid of what he would see when they revealed his partner's manhood. He wasn't sure if he wanted his partner's penis to be hard, thus sparing him the further humiliation of a failed erection——completely understandable under the circumstances but a horror to expose to the world that one has trouble getting it up. Then again, how would Donnelly feel if Ethan

was

hard? Knowing that his partner was turned on by the wrongness of his situation? He shuddered to think.

The flesh parade went on for a bit, following Brandt's perfect ass into a large, glass-walled shower where his partner immediately started washing himself. There were a few hurried sweeps of soap and water then a lot more long, slow caresses. The sensual display of something that should've taken a minute at the very most seemed to go on forever as water sluiced off the cut planes of Brandt's body.

Donnelly was unwillingly caught up in the show, captivated in a detached way by the elegance of soapy water sheeting across moving muscle and tanned skin. He was therefore totally unprepared when Brandt finally turned toward the camera and Donnelly was confronted with a fully-hard, eight-inch cock extending up in technicolour, 3D magnificence from a glistening nest of dark blond hair. He sucked in a breath and shut his eyes, every muscle in his body pulling tense as the vision of his partner's stiff, circumcised penis was indelibly burned onto his retinas.

Oh my god.

This was so very different from when he'd caught a glimpse of it in the change room at Cabana Boy. Brandt was only partially hard then, still impressive but the erection was clearly involuntary. There was no mistaking it this time——Brandt was rock hard and throbbing. Whatever he was feeling in that shower went

way

beyond dedication to the job. Ethan was definitely into it.

Eyes squeezed shut, Donnelly crushed the heel of his hand into his forehead, not knowing what the hell to think. This wasn't what he was expecting at all. Brandt had been traumatised by what happened. Or had he? No one was forcing that hard-on. It was the cock of a man who'd been teased for hours, denied orgasm over and over again to the point of insanity, angry and red and alive. If Brandt had been traumatised at all, it certainly hadn't happened at that point.

Maybe Brandt was into it in the beginning but

something

had to have changed. There

had

to be an explanation for why his partner had freaked out so much.

By the time Donnelly came back up for air and rejoined the world, the video had played to the end.

Dammit!

He'd have to watch the thing again now.

Taking a shuddering breath, Donnelly returned the video to the beginning, determined to watch the whole thing without looking away, no matter how confronting it might be. Unlike the smooth surface of Brandt's ripped abdominal range, Donnelly's stomach inside was a mess. Not nauseous but filled with butterflies and racehorses.

The film restarted and he watched the striptease again and the shower, keeping his eyes on the screen this time as Brandt leaned back against the tiles, soaped up his cock and began stroking. Looking carefully, Donnelly studied his partner's face and was somewhat relieved to still see that same look of determination. No matter what his body was doing, Brandt was still on the job.

Wasn't he?

As he watched Ethan's hand sliding up and down his slick pole, giving a twist when he reached the head, despite his resolve to be dispassionate, Donnelly couldn't help but feel the phantom drag of each tug along his own penis. He'd jacked off in the shower more times than he could count and knew exactly how it felt. Watching his partner doing it vividly evoked memories of the deed for Donnelly, the myriad times in his past he'd pleasured himself in the same way. Shamefully, he felt a twitching in his loins, stirrings of arousal he tried to suppress.

Oh no. Oh god... Do

not

get horny. You are

not

horny

...

Then it happened. Brandt pinched his nipple. A jerk, a fierce kick of his cock and goosebumps that flourished across his slick skin... So

intense

, Donnelly felt it just from watching. God, he could almost hear his partner groan...

Ohhhhh

...

Against his will, Donnelly's cock stiffened further, steadily pumping with blood into full erection. The expression of ecstasy on Ethan's face was impossible to ignore, so primal and sexual that Donnelly felt a heat rip through his body unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It was as if Brandt's nipple was the switch that turned them both on.

Ohmmgod fuck!

Along his spine, through his balls, up his penis, the tingle tore into a shiver and Donnelly's skin under his clothes broke out in goosebumps too, his own nipples peaking with sensitivity.

Brandt's masturbation had reached a fever pitch and Donnelly couldn't look away even if he wanted to at this point. Ethan's body flexed, rippled, shuddered, as his fist flew up and down that powerful rod of masculine sex, every inch of his skin glistening wet, highlighting his muscles as they contracted. His chest heaved in short pants, his face was set in a picture of erotic agony, and Donnelly felt his body mirror the intense arousal in empathy. His cock pulsed in his pants, harder than stone, and he itched to take it in hand, to rub the absolute fuck out of it as his partner reached the precipice of orgasm on his laptop screen.

Just when he couldn't bear it anymore, when he thought the end was coming——

ha!—

—and semen would explode from his partner's plum-coloured cock head, Brandt inexplicably stopped, yanking his hands away from his penis and tightening them into quivering fists of extreme restraint. To his total shock, Donnelly heard himself groan in utter disappointment. He didn't want to think what that meant. He just took several deep breaths and watched as Brandt got out of the shower and towelled himself off. One could see just how close Brandt had come to spilling; his whole body vibrated with the need to cum.

Donnelly's eyes were riveted still on the smooth, hard pillar of marble that hung from his partner's hips, the swing of heavy balls beneath. He actually frowned when his partner wrapped the towel around his waist, hiding his sex from view. It was obvious, however, that Brandt still had a mammoth erection because the towel was distended like a two-man tent with an awning.

Walking from the bathroom, Brandt looked visibly shaken, a mixture of tortured need, horror and detachment on his face. Really only Donnelly could see it—years of training masking Brandt's emotions behind a steely countenance—but it was there. Donnelly himself didn't know what to feel. He was as shell-shocked as his partner.

Brandt was on a bed now, teasing himself with light touches. Every time he tweaked his nipples, his body would jerk in a very appealing way and Donnelly, in his hyper-aroused state, was sailing in very dangerous waters to not even notice he'd thought of Brandt's naked body as appealing. Donnelly's eyes skimmed the satin stretches of athletic muscle, appreciating just how beautiful Ethan was for the first time. They lingered on a face as handsome as any model's, gazed into green eyes made dark with lust.

No wonder they picked him for this assignment.

In the beginning, sure Donnelly had agreed that Ethan Brandt was man candy and therefore perfect for the assignment; hordes of lusty women batting their eyelashes at Brandt over the years had proven that. But Donnelly didn't see it himself until now, didn't see just how 'perfect' his partner and best friend really was. Not until Ethan was laid bare, open and vulnerable, powerful and sexual.

And all yours if you want it

, his subconscious whispered upon deaf ears. Donnelly shook his head to clear it, willfully ignoring a growing truth in his mind.

While his partner had been shrouded in towelling, Donnelly's pulse had slowed considerably but as Brandt tugged at the white cloth, it spiked again. That long, thick, rigid cock made its second appearance along with hidden flashes of clean, puckered flesh——unintentional and yet all the more alluring because of it——as Brandt shifted around and got comfortable. Donnelly didn't even flinch at the sight of his partner's hole, instead gazing at Brandt's muscular crevice in case the silken star was revealed again. His reasoning mind had shut down for now, refusing to weigh in and draw uncomfortable conclusions. Donnelly's libido was in complete control now.

Writhing on the bed, Brandt was again aroused so much that he couldn't ignore his dick and once more, he began stroking. Without the hot water cascading over his partner's body, Donnelly could now easily see that Brandt's cock was drooling pre-cum. Brandt was ridiculously turned on, anyone could see that. Problem was, so was Donnelly. Without thinking, he squeezed the hard ridge in his pants, gasping as pleasure shot through him like heroin.

Brandt was stroking furiously, that same determination on his face, only now in pursuit of orgasm, and Donnelly felt his own body growing hotter, breathing faster. His hand squeezed his cock rhythmically, massaging the urgent ache. Yet all he was aware of, the only thing that existed in his entire universe, was Brandt. And his partner was about to blow.

Time slowed for Donnelly. His senses were heightened. He noticed little details. How a trickle of sweat ran over Brandt's left pectoral to pool in the valleys of his taut abs. The crease between his brows that crowned a fierce gaze of the purest ecstasy. The whiteness of his teeth as they bit down on his lower lip. The way his balls drew up tight to his body. Brandt arched on the bed, his cock kicked and a string of white semen vaulted from the tip. His lips parted in a silent moan...

Time resumed its course and as Brandt jerked again and again, his seed crashing in ribbons across his sweat soaked skin, Donnelly gasped again.

"Oh my god, 'm gonna cum," he groaned in total disbelief.

Frantically, he yanked open his fly, reaching into his drawers and freeing his loaded gun. A second later, the first spasm hit.

"

Hohhhmygod! Ohhhh

..."

Cum exploded from Donnelly's erection, carving through the air, as a wave of paralytic pleasure slammed into him. He tugged hard on his penis as the next one hit and cramped up his belly, while the first load of cum splattered on the tiles at his feet.

"

Ohh fuck, Ethan

..."

Donnelly fought to keep his eyes open and focused on the screen but lights were flashing and blurring his vision. On and on, it seemed to last forever——a violent, perfect orgasm that levelled him. He was dimly aware through his rapture that Brandt had finished and lay there lazily milking the last spasms from his cock, and then it was over and Donnelly sucked air into his lungs, shuddering with aftershocks as he too slowed his strokes. The universe came back into focus and Donnelly found himself with his pants open, a hand full of wet, softening cock and cum cooling unpleasantly on his skin.

"Holy shit."

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