The Epsilon Run - Part 1 (Patreon)

Halloween Special🎃

Saturday, October 31st, 2026

The old Epsilon house looked less impressive once Justin and Nate were standing right outside its fence, which was exactly what Justin had expected. Campus stories made the place sound like some enormous haunted mansion on a hill, when in reality it was a three-story brick fraternity house about 10 minutes beyond the oldest edge of campus. It was big, with broad white columns, a deep front porch, and dark windows that made the upper floors look slightly creepy, but Justin had seen scarier houses during recruiting trips. Half the windows were covered with plywood, and the fraternity letters above the entrance were crooked.

At 20 years old and 6’3” tall, Justin stood on the sidewalk with both hands on his hips, snorting to sound disappointed. His tiny Tarzan loincloth left most of his body exposed because he wore nothing else underneath. The tiny piece of brown fabric barely covered anything. At the front, his 9-inch soft cock and heavy balls were visible from some angles, and behind him, his massive bubble butt was almost on full display, which had been the point when he chose the costume. The only other thing going along with the loincloth was a pair of flip-flops he wore for practical functions rather than choice.

“You dragged me out of a good Halloween party for this?” Justin asked, turning toward Nate with a cocky smirk before reaching for the fence and shaking it lightly. “It looks like somebody forgot to tear down an old frat house. That’s it.”

Nate lifted one eyebrow, looking clearly confused. He was 6’6” tall and therefore one of the few people Justin had to look slightly upward at. “I didn’t drag you anywhere,” he said, moving the flashlight beam toward his friend’s costume. “Some dude asked whether you’d ever done the Epsilon Run; you said no. He laughed and said you didn’t have the balls to do it, and your ego drove us here. That’s on you, Tarzan.”

Nate’s Greek-warrior outfit wasn’t much more practical. His helmet was tucked under one arm, a red cape hung behind his shoulders, and overlapping strips of dark imitation leather hung from his waist—with nothing underneath either—in a stylized version of pteruges that cheap Halloween costumes often used for ancient armor. His 8-inch soft cock and plump balls therefore had nothing between them and the leather strips except air, although the costume gave him somewhat better coverage than the strip of fabric Justin insisted qualified as pants.

“Dude was talking about my balls as if he hadn’t been looking at them all night,” Justin said, climbing the fence before Nate could answer. His thighs bunched as he pulled himself upward, and the motion exposed his whole ass cheeks right before his friend. “Also, for the record, my ego doesn’t drive. I drive. My ego navigates.”

Nate waited until Justin had one leg thrown over the top before reaching through the fence and giving the exposed ass a hard smack. Justin jerked so violently that his foot slipped.

“Your ego’s as big as that ass,” Nate said, laughing and almost giving it another smack. “Move that thing before you bend the fence.”

“You touch my ass again when I’m 6 feet off the ground, and I’m dropping a ball on your head,” Justin said firmly, although he was grinning again as he climbed down the opposite side. When he landed, the loincloth bounced against his thighs and settled back into place with most of his enormous butt still exposed. “And you’re obsessed with it. You haven’t stopped talking about my ass since I walked into the party.”

“Because you showed up barely dressed.” Nate climbed over after him, landing beside Justin and adjusting the leather strips over his groin when they shifted. “I’m pretty sure I can see your balls from behind.”

Justin looked down, checked, and pulled the fabric slightly toward the middle without the slightest embarrassment. “Not anymore.”

“That did basically nothing,” Nate said, rolling his eyes.

“Good enough.” Justin slapped Nate’s abs lightly and started moving across the dead grass toward the house. “It’s not like your little skirt hides anything, dude.”

Nate snorted and started moving. “Man, it’s not a skirt, and it covers more than your tiny bikini-like costume even attempts to.”

“Shut up!” Justin said, laughing as they approached the front door. “Come on, slutty Leonidas. We find the president’s room, steal some stupid frat shit, and get back before anybody drinks what I left in the cooler.”

The unofficial rules of the Epsilon Run had survived far longer than the fraternity itself. Every Halloween, athletes, fraternity pledges, drunk seniors, and the occasional idiot freshman crossed the fence after dark with one flashlight and no phone, entered through the old front door, climbed to the third floor, and tried to reach the former fraternity president’s bedroom. The phone rule was supposedly traditional because electronics had a habit of going strange inside the house. Their proof was supposed to be something identifiable from the president’s bedroom, preferably an old fraternity object nobody could have picked up in the entrance hall.

The stories attached to the house were considerably less consistent than the rules. Epsilon had shut down a little over 20 years earlier after what the university’s surviving paperwork called an unauthorized hazing incident involving several hospitalizations and major building-code violations. By the time Justin and Nate entered college, the official explanation had accumulated so many supernatural additions that no one could tell which part was original.

One version involved experimental drugs, and another blamed a chemistry major who had tried some homemade performance-enhancing compound on half the fraternity. One story insisted a pledge had gone into the president’s bedroom at 5’6” and walked back out over 7 feet tall. Justin’s favorite involved a guy whose balls supposedly swelled until each one was the size of a beanbag chair and had to be supported in separate slings for the rest of his life.

“That one has always bothered me,” Justin said as they crossed the cracked walkway. “Not because it’s impossible. Because nobody ever says what kind of beanbag chair.”

Nate stared at him. “That’s the detail you need?”

“Yes. A little beanbag is manageable. One of those giant dorm-room things? You’re fucked,” Justin added, playfully spreading his stance to show how a man would walk with balls that big. “Sounds kinda fun, though.”

“You’re taking that story way too seriously,” Nate added, chuckling softly.

Justin shrugged. “If I heard a story about a haunted house making somebody’s balls bigger, you’d want details.”

“No, you’d want details because you’d be jealous,” Nate replied.

“My balls are already big.” Justin reached for his groin and cupped what he could hold in one hand. “Bigger might be excessive.”

Nate snorted. “You’d enjoy excess.”

Justin grinned and shrugged again. “Probably.”

They stepped onto the porch, and the old boards complained loudly under almost 500 pounds of combined jock. Justin stopped near a boarded window and bent closer when the flashlight revealed three badly drawn cocks and dates left by earlier trespassers.

He studied the largest one for a second before pointing at it with satisfaction. “Finally, some historically accurate artwork.”

Nate aimed the flashlight down at Justin’s loincloth. “Not even yours is shaped like that.”

“You don’t know what I’ve got going on under here,” Justin said, smirking.

“Dude, I can see the veins in that thing,” Nate said, staring at Justin’s groin. “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but you’re pretty much naked. You practically put your cock on public display.”

Justin laughed and pushed the front door before the conversation could continue. The door opened much more easily than either expected. The foyer was so large that Nate had to move the light slowly to see the whole thing. A wide staircase stretched toward the second floor, a chandelier hung overhead, dust coated overturned furniture along one wall, and faded fraternity composite photographs were hanging on another.

Justin walked inside first because letting Nate lead after all his bragging was impossible. “Smells like ass in here,” he said, frowning. “If something in here ruins my smell, I’m suing.”

“Who?” Nate came in and closed the front door. “The university? They don’t own it.”

“The ghosts, then,” Justin replied playfully. “Come on, let’s find that room.”

They moved room by room across the first floor with the flashlight sweeping ahead of them, finding dirty couches, closed cabinets, a fireplace that looked too neat for a place like that, and piles of party-related debris that seemed easily 20 years old.

While looking around the main lounge, they found a faded fraternity banner hung over the fireplace, and beside it somebody had painted a cartoon baby with red spray paint.

“The fuck is a baby doing here?” Justin laughed at the drawing.

“Dude, that’s not funny. Don’t laugh,” Nate said, suddenly serious. “That’s probably a reference to the night the house closed.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Justin asked. “I’ve never heard anything about a baby.”

“According to the most repeated version of the story, police had entered after the hazing incident, found several sick fraternity brothers, and then heard a newborn crying upstairs. When they went to check, they found a baby in the frat president’s arms, and some say there was a lot of blood,” Nate explained slowly, so low that his voice sounded creepy. “There had supposedly been no pregnant woman anywhere near the party, no missing infant in the area, and no explanation for how a baby had gotten into the fraternity president’s bedroom.”

Justin stopped smiling. “So what happened to the baby?”

“Nobody knows,” Nate said, moving the flashlight over the childish red outline on the wall. “One version says an ambulance took them to a secret facility. One says the baby and the president disappeared before anybody could get back upstairs. Another says there wasn’t a baby, and people just added that later.”

“That last one sounds like the true version,” Justin said, chuckling.

“Probably.” Nate turned toward another doorway and gestured for Justin to follow. “There’s also the guy who supposedly started lactating after he slept here.”

“That’s the tits story?” Justin caught up with him. “I heard a guy grew tits. Nobody said he was making milk or anything.”

“See, that’s why none of the stories mean anything. Everybody changes them,” Nate said, looking around the dark corners of the rooms.

Justin looked down at his chest with mock consideration. His pecs were already thick, so the lower edge cast a faint shadow against his ribs when the flashlight crossed him. “Wouldn’t hate bigger tits, honestly. Mine are already halfway there.”

“Dude, we’re talking about growing boobs, not just bigger pecs,” Nate added, staring at Justin’s chest under the light. “You’d absolutely hate tits.”

“Depends on how good they looked.” Justin laughed, playfully bouncing his pecs.

“You would spend six hours flexing in front of a mirror and then complain your shirts didn’t fit.” Nate rolled his eyes and turned away.

“I already do that,” Justin confirmed as they kept walking.

They invented increasingly stupid explanations for the legends as they moved from one room to the other. Justin decided the enormous-balls story had probably started when somebody got drunk and sat naked on a beanbag. Nate suggested the mysterious baby had been somebody’s younger sibling brought in as a prank. By the time they reached the second floor, both were back to behaving as though the only danger in the building was tetanus.

The upper level was slightly messier. Fallen plaster blocked one hallway, forcing them to climb over a broken dresser. Justin went first, swinging one of his legs over it, which made the rear flap of his Tarzan costume slide completely aside. Nate’s flashlight illuminated Justin’s huge ass cheeks as they spread wide, and Nate let out a low whistle without thinking.

Justin turned around on the other side. “See? Obsessed.”

“Your costume isn’t covering anything,” Nate replied, smirking.

“I don’t think you’re actually complaining.” Justin moved backward, showing even more of his ass on purpose. “You saying you don’t appreciate the view?”

Nate climbed over the dresser and straightened in front of him. “I’m saying your ass is ridiculous and you love showing it off a bit too much.”

They had always been unusually physical with one another, partly because both came from the kind of athletic environment where nudity and casual touching meant no embarrassment after locker rooms, travel, and shared housing. However, their relationship went beyond that. They had kissed while drunk before and had fooled around more than once—with underwear on—but it had only been playful stuff between best friends. It didn’t mean anything.

They eventually reached the third floor, and as soon as they inspected the rooms up there, they noticed something strange: they looked more untouched than the rest of the building. The place was dusty, but old mattresses were still on bed frames, posters were still hanging on the walls, and one doorway had a pair of shoes that looked as though their owner might have intended to come back for them.

The president’s room was at the very end of the corridor. Unlike the other bedroom doors, this one was closed and looked almost clean. A tarnished brass plaque near eye level read ‘PRESIDENT,’ and beneath it somebody had carved five words deep into the old wood: ‘DON’T BULLSHIT IN THE PRESIDENT’S ROOM.’ Nate shone the flashlight directly onto the warning, and Justin moved closer to inspect the words.

“That’s the famous part, right?” Justin asked, pressing a finger against the final word and finding the grooves surprisingly clean. “The room makes you prove whatever you say.”

“That’s one version.” Nate shifted the flashlight so it illuminated the doorknob. “The boring version is that the frat president used to haze guys who lied in here, and everybody turned it supernatural later.”

“The boring version is obviously right.” Justin wrapped a hand around the knob. “If a room could punish bullshit, I’d have been killed by architecture years ago.”

He opened the door, and both of them stopped for a moment because the bedroom beyond it didn’t match the rest of the house. A large wooden bed still stood against one wall with an intact mattress and sheets pulled reasonably straight across it. An Epsilon banner hung above a heavy desk, and an old wardrobe occupied the opposite corner. There was no dust, no beer cans, no graffiti, no broken furniture, and even the smell was different.

Nate walked inside slowly and ran the flashlight across the room. “This is actually weird.”

Justin followed, looking even more interested now. “Maybe somebody cleaned it.”

“Who?” Nate said, lifting one eyebrow.

“Ghost maid. I don’t know.” Justin crossed to the bed and pressed his hand against the mattress. “I think this place’s cleaner than my dorm.”

Nate opened the wardrobe and found an old fraternity jacket hanging inside. He pulled it free and held it up with satisfaction. “There. Proof.”

Justin looked over. “That’s what we’re stealing?”

“We don’t need to steal it permanently. We take it back, get the picture, and somebody can return it next year,” Nate explained as if it were obvious.

“Lame.” Justin wandered to the desk and pulled open a drawer. Inside were yellowed papers, several dead pens, and an ancient condom wrapper flattened beneath a notebook. He held it up between two fingers. “This has more historical value.”

“Put that down,” Nate said, looking disgusted. “Gross, bro.”

“What? President’s relic.” Justin said, laughing and tossing the condom back into the drawer. “You’re so boring, dude.”

He turned around, and the front flap of his loincloth shifted as he bent over, leaving the outline of his cock and balls much more obvious than before. Instead of fixing it immediately, Justin leaned against the desk with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You’re showing,” Nate said.

“So are you,” Justin replied, hooking two fingers beneath the waistband of his loincloth to settle it more securely around his waist.

Nate looked down, finally noticing that one of the leather pteruges had twisted aside, leaving more of his thick cock visible than the costume was meant to expose. He adjusted it, then looked back at Justin. “My costume at least attempted clothing.”

“You wore a leather skirt without underwear. You clearly wanted me to see your cock tonight.” Justin pushed away from the desk and walked toward his friend until they were barely a foot away from each other. “You wish you could pull off this much ass, though.”

Nate laughed and looked around Justin’s side at the huge butt barely hidden by fabric. “Nobody needs that much ass.”

“You still want my ass,” Justin said, with a cocky grin on his lips. “But you can’t handle it.”

That changed the tone, so Nate lowered the jacket onto the bed. They were still joking, but this particular kind of joking had a history. Justin loved challenging people, and Nate was one of the few who rarely backed down.

“I could handle your ass,” Nate said, reaching out and hooking one finger beneath the fabric at Justin’s hip to tug lightly. “You’re the one who talks about it like it’s a dangerous animal.”

Justin slapped Nate’s hand away, although he didn’t step back. “You’ve got a lot of confidence for a guy in a skirt.”

“You’ve got a lot for somebody whose hole has never met a cock like mine,” Nate replied, moving closer until their fronts met firmly.

Justin laughed, then put his hand on Nate’s chest. “You think being tall makes that monster cock of yours impressive?”

“You’re calling it a monster cock yourself,” Nate said, grinning as his cock stirred beneath the pteruges. “Not even your big ass would have it easy to handle what I’ve got here.” He pulled Justin by the waist, and their groins met as their cock slowly hardened.

“Then prove it,” Justin whispered, slowly pulling Nate toward the bed.

Justin climbed into the bed first, lying on his back against the pillows and lifting his loincloth to expose his hardening cock, his heavy balls, and his tight hole as his thighs spread as far as they would go. Nate threw the flashlight away and removed his costume, joining Justin in bed as a rush of blood filled his cock more intensely than ever. He didn’t pay attention at first, but the shaft quickly reached about 16 inches long and was as thick as his forearm.

“That wasn’t that big downstairs,” Justin said, noticing the difference even in the dark because he had seen Nate’s 10-inch hard cock before. “What the fuck did you do?” he added, more impressed than worried, while reaching down to stroke the massive shaft.

Nate smirked without looking down because he thought his friend was joking to escape the challenge. “Nothing. Unless your giant ass is already scared.”

Justin stroked hard, making Nate groan. “Fuck you.”

“That’s the plan,” Nate replied, brushing his cock against Justin’s foot-long one.

Justin laughed and shifted his hips, so Nate had free access to his hole. The position should have made him feel exposed, but he still looked as cocky as he had standing upright. “Go ahead then. Show me what you can do.”

Nate smiled, obviously enjoying the sight far too much. “You look pretty eager for somebody who keeps telling everyone he’s straight,” he said, scanning Justin’s muscular torso before returning to his face.

Justin snorted and grabbed Nate around the waist, pulling him closer. “Dude, I just like proving my point.” His grin widened when Nate still hesitated above him. “And the fact that you’re standing there talking instead of fucking me is kind of proving it already.”

Nate snorted. “You’re going to regret being such an asshole.”

“Then make me,” Justin said, and it was all Nate needed.

Nate lifted Justin’s legs, settling them against his shoulders so the enormous ass was angled toward him. He lined his massive cock against Justin’s tight hole, and the first attempt to slide it inside made Justin’s confidence falter for a second because the tip alone felt immense.

Nate tried again, adding more force and angling his cock in the right direction while Justin moaned softly. It took a couple of attempts, but Nate slowly pushed inside, careful despite all the trash talk, and Justin’s whole body tightened against the mattress—his fingers curled hard into the old sheets, his thighs tensed around Nate’s shoulders, and a rough moan came out of his mouth before he could turn it into a laugh.

“Fuck,” Justin cried out, closing his eyes for a moment. The strain was much more intense than he had expected, making his abdomen tighten and his back press firmly into the mattress. He opened his eyes again and found Nate looking far too pleased with himself. “Don’t get excited. You’re just bigger than I remembered.”

Nate paused to let Justin adjust, even though the grin on his face made it clear he planned to use that admission forever. “That sounded dangerously close to a compliment.”

Justin tightened his legs around Nate to pull him closer. “Are you going to keep talking or actually prove something?”

Nate kept moving, pushing inch after inch of his massive cock into his friend, until Justin had taken him fully. The effort showed all over Justin’s body despite his refusal to admit it. His breathing was short and heavy, the muscles in his abdomen stayed clenched, and his hands remained fisted in the sheets because letting go would have made it much harder to pretend Nate’s size wasn’t overwhelming him.

“Told you,” he said, breathing hard so his words came out less smoothly than he intended. “Your cock’s not a big deal. Not difficult.”

Nate looked down at him. “The way you grip those sheets tells me otherwise.”

Before Justin could answer, Nate pulled half of his cock out and thrust forward with such force that the headboard smacked loudly against the wall. The pounding soon got a rhythm as the old mattress’s springs groaned every time Nate thrust forward. Justin’s body rocked against the bed as he tried—and failed—to keep the same cocky expression he had started with. Nate’s cock size demanded too much attention, and the intense pounding kept pushing him past the point where pretending indifference was convincing.

Every time Justin started smirking again, Nate thrust harder to wipe it away. Every time Justin whispered that he could handle more, Nate took him seriously and pounded faster. Justin answered by refusing to ask him to stop, but his whole body was clearly overwhelmed. Even his hard cock throbbed constantly without being touched, responding to the stimulus inside each time Nate’s cock reached just the right spots.

“You still doing great?” Nate asked after Justin cried out again.

Justin looked up at him and grinned. “Fucking fantastic.”

Nate laughed. “Your face says otherwise.”

“My face says your ego is somehow bigger than your cock,” Justin replied breathlessly.

Nate increased the intensity again, and Justin couldn’t focus enough to keep trading insults. Justin arched his back while his hands searched for a bigger handful of the sheets. The physical strain was obvious, but so was the fact that Justin was enjoying himself. He had accepted the challenge because he wanted it, and now pleasure made everything better.

Justin cared mostly about proving that Nate’s big cock wasn’t going to beat him, while Nate cared mostly about making Justin admit that maybe his massive ass didn’t mean he could handle anything. However, as the pounding continued, the moans grew louder, and both of them started leaking precum; it was obvious they were loving it.

Nate thrust harder as he felt his balls on the verge of bursting, and the extra force made Justin reach orgasm first. His entire body tensed suddenly beneath Nate, his legs tightened over Nate’s shoulders, and his abdominal muscles pulled hard while a raw groan escaped him. He hadn’t needed Nate to touch his cock directly, but it still burst with countless cum shots that landed all over the headboard, Justin’s face, and his bare torso. The orgasm was so strong that Justin almost lost consciousness, especially because Nate kept going at full force.

“Ready to admit I was right?” Nate asked breathlessly, but Justin couldn’t answer.

Nate didn’t last much longer after that. He slowed his pace but added force to each thrust when he was close, giving Justin enough warning in case he wanted Nate to pull out. Instead, Justin kept Nate close and allowed him to cum inside. When Nate couldn’t hold back anymore, his toes curled, his whole body trembled, and his cock exploded with such a thick torrent of warm cum that Justin’s abdomen rounded outward as the pressure increased inside.

“Oh, fuck!” Justin cried out one last time, and his eyes rolled into his head as Nate’s cock filled his guts with a ridiculous amount of cum.

Nate stayed over him for a few minutes while they caught their breath. Justin’s legs slowly slid down from Nate’s shoulders as his whole body went limp. His chest was heaving, his short blonde hair was a mess, and the self-satisfied look that began returning to his face made Nate laugh even before Justin said anything.

“See?” Justin whispered, smirking without even opening his eyes. “Handled.”

Nate lowered his head and laughed into Justin’s shoulder. “You’re such a dick,” he said, laughing softly. “You were about 30 seconds away from ripping the sheets in half.”

Justin weakly punched Nate’s chest. “Get off me, gladiator.”

Nate slowly pulled out, and Justin moaned loudly as the massive cock left his body. His hole tightened immediately, so not a drop of cum leaked out. He stayed on his back with his thighs spread and his loincloth twisted around his hips. Nate sat beside him for a moment, equally sweaty and breathless, so focused on Justin’s state that he didn’t notice his softening cock still looked much bigger than it usually did.

They didn’t give any serious thought to the fact that Nate had shot his load inside Justin, so they took a few minutes afterward to recover and put their costumes back together. Justin sat on the edge of the mattress with his legs spread, processing the numbness in his hips after the intense fucking, and adjusted the loincloth around his hips. He didn’t notice that his huge ass now took up far more space on the bed than it did when they arrived.

Nate retrieved his pteruges from the floor and refastened them around his waist. For a moment, he noticed something was different because the head of his cock reached below the lower part of the pteruges, but he dismissed it, thinking it was the lack of light messing with him.

He looked up, snorting as Justin caressed his bloated abdomen. “You could turn getting fucked into an athletic achievement,” he said, moving closer. “Let’s not talk about how my cock slid inside pretty easily for someone straight, though.”

“Whatever, dude. If you’re good at something, own it.” Justin slowly stood up, groaning softly because his hips were sore. “Honestly, you made that sound harder than it was,” he added, arching his posture slightly, with a hand on the small of his back, which made his rounded abdomen look a bit more prominent.

Nate had been ready to leave, but Justin’s expression was so cocky that he couldn’t let go. “Dude, you look pregnant, and you still say it was nothing?” he said, standing right before the blonde guy. “Come on, just admit it. You could barely handle my cock.”

“Bro, I’m fine,” Justin replied, trying to sound casual, but a soft groan came out as his hips throbbed. “Even if I were pregnant, I’d handle that easily as well.”

Nate’s eyebrows went up. “You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Women eat, sleep, get a big belly, then the kid comes out,” Justin said, and playfully caressed his bloated middle as though demonstrating how little concern he had for the concept. “I’m not saying it feels amazing. I’m saying I could handle it.”

Nate shook his head while folding the fraternity jacket over one forearm. “You’d lose your mind the first time your abs disappeared.”

Justin snorted. “I’d look fucking great pregnant.” He slapped his abdomen and then gestured at his chest. “Big belly, bigger tits, whatever. I’d make it work.”

Nate laughed. “One baby, maybe you’d survive,” Nate said, smiling as he watched Justin become more invested. “You’d still bitch about it.”

“One?” Justin scoffed, and for a moment he looked around the supposedly haunted President’s Room, remembering the warning carved into the door. “I’d carry six,” he finally said, succumbing to the irresistible urge to make his claim as ridiculous as possible.

“Six babies at once? With that waist?” Nate laughed out loud and moved the old fraternity jacket to his other arm. “You’re doing a lot of bullshitting in the one room where everybody says not to bullshit.”

“No bullshit,” Justin said firmly. “I could carry six of your kids and still handle it.” He smirked and slowly approached Nate. “You already made the deposit, didn’t you?” he said, gesturing toward his middle. “I’d carry all six, get huge, grow tits, whatever the fuck pregnancy does, and I’d still handle it. Women act like they’re dying when they have one. I’d do six.”

Nate laughed and shook his head. “You are the cockiest asshole alive.”

“And I’d still prove you wrong,” Justin said firmly.

A loud metallic click sounded somewhere inside the wall, and both men heard it. Nate turned his head toward the sound while Justin looked toward the old door. Nothing moved for a few seconds, then the door, which had been partly open, slowly swung inward until the latch settled into place with another soft click. Nate pushed himself away from the desk and stared at it while Justin’s expression changed from cocky to mild confusion.

“Draft?” Justin asked. His voice still sounded casual, but he was already watching the room more carefully than before.

“Maybe.” Nate walked over and put his hand on the knob, confirming that it still turned. He opened the door an inch and saw the same dark hallway outside. “Still works.”

Before Justin could make another joke, the old bedside lamp flashed on. The bulb gave off a weak yellow light for perhaps two seconds, enough to illuminate the faded bedspread and both men’s bare torsos, and then it died again. Nate stared at the lamp; Justin looked toward the wall behind it and frowned.

“There shouldn’t be power in here,” Nate said. He stepped closer and touched the switch, turning it back and forth without producing anything. “The whole place was condemned about the same year we were born.”

“The bulb’s haunted. Congratulations, we found the ghost,” Justin said, trying to bring humor to ease the increasing tension.

They heard a deep mechanical sound from somewhere below them before Nate could answer. It was slow at first, like gears grinding against one another after what sounded like years without movement, and then the first heavy strike of a grandfather clock echoed through the house. Nate and Justin stopped talking because they had passed the old clock in the entrance hall when they came inside, and neither remembered hearing even a tick from it.

The second strike followed the first, then a third. By the time the sound reached six, Nate was unconsciously counting softly. The eleventh strike felt particularly strong, making them shake down to their bones.

Nate picked up the flashlight and fraternity jacket. “We got what we came for. I’m good.”

Justin nodded without arguing. “Yeah. Party’s still going.”

He took two steps toward the door before something tightened deep inside his lower abdomen. He groaned and for a second wondered if it could be soreness left by sex. However, the sensation was too sharp, so he had to pause and take a moment to catch his breath. Nate looked at him for another second but didn’t push as they left the president’s room together.

...

********

▶️ | [●] | [Next]

PS: AI Generated images and video only meant to illustrate the scene.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!🎃