The smooth wooden finish of the hallway felt intimidating against the pads of Randall's feet. He could genuinely feel the well-kept history of the room; everything was polished and pristine as one would expect from such a prestigious fraternity. He couldn't help but bite his lower lip, impressed into silence as he was led down the main hallway towards one of the back rooms. Everything was rather quiet, unnervingly so. He walked with stiff, calculated steps, as if he would be caught and told he wasn't worthy of treading on such an important place.
It had only been an hour or so since he'd been pulled aside on campus by the ROR's striking leader, Johnny Worthington (Triple I's). The taller monster had waved him over while Randall had been leaving his first class of the day, Scaring 101. Randall hadn't been sure it was him he was in fact addressing at first, so when he finally slithered over to the other he was feeling a sense of uncertainty. He felt inadequate, disoriented and still sleepy from the morning's lecture. Johnny, of course, was as well-groomed as ever, from his wrinkle-free fraternity sweater to his neatly brushed amethyst fur.
The conversation had gone by quickly, like a dream almost, and before Randall could really comprehend what it was he had agreed to he was being escorted away from the educational campus buildings (consequently missing his next class,) and towards the domestic streets where most of the student body resided.
He was welcomed into the fraternity house graciously by Johnny, who seemed rather pleased with himself about something. Randall could understand the pride the ROR felt for their group. Everything seemed larger, better, somehow more official here. Randall was so caught up in looking at how impressive the place was kept, he almost didn't hear his new fraternity leader speaking to him.
"You like what you see?" Johnny said, grinning in a smug, self-assured way that made Randall even more self-conscious. He nodded sheepishly, causing Johnny to laugh good-heartedly and slap him on his back. "You have good taste then, my friend. You'll fit in fine here."
Randall shifted his weight against his hindest set of legs, nodding eagerly at the other's acceptance.
"Yes, this is--this is great, Johnny." Randall replied, unable to keep his focus on just one area of the house. They had moved on to one of the back rooms, where the wooden floor had become carpeted. The plushness felt incredibly luxurious for a frat house, it was almost as if he had stepped into a four-star hotel room.
The room was small, smaller than the room he'd shared with Wazowski, but there was only one bed and a desk, indicating whoever slept here didn't have to share with a roommate. He glanced around, and to Randall's surprise, his trunk had somehow already been moved in. He turned, an excited squeak cracking his voice.
"This is mine?" he asked, disbelieving.
Johnny nodded in that authoritative, diplomatic way that only a leader could.
And instantly, Randall let himself become comfortable. He was allowed to get acquainted, and he wasted no time excusing himself to unpack his things. He forgot about his missed classes, his prior roommate, his struggles with being accepted. He was in, as hard as that was to believe, he had his chance to prove that he wasn't as socially awkward and lame as he'd been programmed to believe. After all, if ROR had given the invite specifically to him, over anyone else on campus, that had to say something about him, didn't it?
It wasn't until evening did he emerge from his new room, after completely settling in and basking in the victory he'd claimed that day. When he did, the house was darkened save for the flickering lights coming from the living room. He heard voices, the other members of the house (his brothers!) cutting up, laughing, cursing. Walking down that hallway filled him with a strange, domestic sort of feeling. It was nearly euphoric.
Randall slithered over to the others, who were all scattered comfortably in the spacious main room. Chet, Chip and Reggie were all watching television with muted interest, seemingly more invested with their own commentary. Javier was reclined on the fuchsia loveseat, engrossed in a course textbook. Randall felt himself pause when he noticed Johnny wasn't present.
When he quietly stepped into the room, the others briefly looked up from what they were doing. Randall swore he caught a few knowing, pitying glances, but he forced himself to swallow that self doubt and attempt to be confident. His slither awkwardly transformed into a swagger, and he approached the couch.
The others immediately went back to their own business, and Randall felt slightly more comfortable as he took a seat.
The evening went on like that for awhile, and as it went the younger monster felt his confidence grow enough to attempt conversation. It went smoother than expected, and before long he was cutting up, laughing, and cursing just as much as the others. He even impressed the others by demonstrating his talent of camouflage, and within the hour it was as if he'd always belonged to the ROR fraternity house.
When the movie was beginning to roll credits, Randall heard a door from upstairs open and close, followed by very distinct footsteps. They traveled down the stairs, and Johnny entered the room looking startlingly serious. When their eyes met, his lips twisted into a implacable smile that seemed faintly patronizing.
Something about the expression made Randall nervous, and he quickly abandoned his newfound confidence in exchange for looking at the floor awkwardly.
"Everything's ready, gentlemen." Johnny announced.
Randall looked around, confused, as the others got to their feet, Chet turning off the TV and Javier setting his book down. The purple lizard's gaze shot back to Johnny, searching for context to draw from.
"Uh, what's up, guys? What are we doing?" Randall asked, shifting to get onto his feet.
Johnny tilted his head, his voice taking a sonorous tone that made Randall's spine stiffen.
"That's a surprise, Boggs." he said. A few of the others let out low, foreboding chuckles. Johnny motioned for him to follow, and after hesitating for slightly too long, Randall obediently followed, feeling Johnny's gaze tracing his footfalls Randall slithered ahead.
Randall felt exposed somehow, taking the lead as he fumbled up the stairs. He tried to refrain from casting nervous glances over his shoulder, but it was nearly impossible as he felt the weight of the others ascending the staircase behind him.
Upstairs was all carpeted, dark as ever since no one seemed inclined to turn the lights on. Randall was instructed to go down the hallway, beyond the displays of trophies and photos of impressive, important monsters from the past. The sense of history and tradition only seemed to increase the sudden apprehension Randall felt growing heavy in the pit of his stomach like a lead ball.
He was instructed to enter the last room on the far left, pushed gently by Johnny's large claws. To add to Randall's unease, Johnny seemed to be whispering to him words of encouragement, urging him to go on in a way that was almost sadistic. The excitement in the monster's voice set off an alarm of panic, however it was immediately ignored.
Randall complied, not daring to question Johnny's authority. He might had been disconcerted by the whole thing, but he still wanted to make a good impression. He didn't want
Johnny to change his mind about him.
The room was pitch black. Randall shuffled inside, knocking into a chair and muttering an apology afterwards. The chair didn't respond, and he felt idiotic.
A short yelp escaped his lips as he felt large hands--maybe Chip's?-- grab his shoulders and pull him backward, holding him in place as another set of hands (he couldn't even begin to identify whose they were,) began tying a blindfold over his eyes.
"Wha--it's already dark in here, what are you doing?" Randall protested, unable to stifle the nervous rhythm in his voice.
He heard Johnny reply, roughly a few feet in front of him. His voice carried its usual smugness, though there was something else there as well--something pitiless and amused.
"Don't worry, Randy, the lights are going on in a minute, and the blindfold's only temporary--" as he spoke, Randall could make out faint orange light filtering through the cloth over his eyes. He picked up the faint scent of cinnamon and smoke. Candles?
"--We didn't want to spoil things for you."
Randall felt the lead ball in his stomach grow another layer, and his palms began to sweat.
"Uh...heh, heh, c..Come on guys. What are we doing?" he forced the words out, trying not to seem as anxious as he really was.
The blow came suddenly, and he cried out loudly. It was a quick, stinging pain to his lower back, at the base of his tail and back. He stumbled forward, and would have fell if he hadn't had an extra set of legs keeping him upright.
"Induction," Johnny's voice answered, followed by a chorus of laughs.
Randall took a long moment to process what he meant, and after that moment passed (and he'd gathered his composure again,) Randall forced a nervous chuckle to meet the laughs of the others. This was just some sort of stupid initiation? It would explain the darkness and the blindfold...
Somehow, the realization didn't quell his nerves much. He tried to put on a brave face, forcing himself to be reminded that this wasn't exactly a bizarre thing--plenty of fraternities had initiation rituals, just for fun. For laughs. And afterwards, he'd be part of the group, accepted, popular...
The second blow came so suddenly Randall was actually knocked down this time, and he let out a low whine. He was sure the paddle--wooden, full of holes-- was meant to be hitting his rear end, but in actuality, due to his anatomy, it was striking him at the lower junction where his spine turned into a tail. Needless to say, it hurt considerably, but he didn't say anything in protest. He didn't want the ROR to think he was a wimp.
He rose, trying to shrug it off.
"O-oh, okay, guys, uh, how long exactly is this going to--?"
"Oh, Boggs, we're just getting started!" a voice chimed in--Chet's. Randall was struck again with a loud thwack. He cried out, and instantly rubbed the sore area with his damped lower hands.
The moment they were back, Randall's wrists were seized and tied with a thin strip of cloth. He struggled slightly, writhing in a jerky, reptilian way as panic arrested his senses.
The claws gripping his hands continued, and he felt more hands holding him down to immobilize him.
"Hold still, do you want this to take all night?" Johnny chuckled playfully. His voice sounded more sincere now, the traces of sadistic pleasure were gone. Somehow it only made Randall panic more.
"What--what are you guys doin'? I mean, ow--!" Randall hissed, the fabric biting into hit wrists with each attempt to struggle free. He wriggled in protest as rough talons gripped his other set of wrists. They weren't being tied, just restrained. Randall shuddered, feeling an antennae brush his shoulderblade.
Johnny seemed to be pacing--though it was impossible to tell where he was in the room until he began speaking again. Sweat began building on Randall's brow. Johnny's voice was practiced and serious as he spoke, sounding as if he'd rehearsed these words a thousand times.
"Determination. Tradition. Brotherhood...there is a reason why Roar Omega Roar is considered the best, Boggs." Johnny said. Randall heard as the monster's footsteps came closer, stopping a few feet in front of him. Randall swallowed the thump growing in his throat, wondering what Johnny was getting at.
"We strive to uphold these qualities the best we can. Each of us. After all, what kind of fortress is considered safe if one wall should be poorly constructed?" he asked, a slight hint of amusement in his voice. Randall's skin turned cold, awaiting the other to continue. He felt heat on his face, and after Johnny continued he realized it was the other monster's breath. "I don't want any weak walls in my house." he announced lowly, his voice gilded with a growl.
The silence that fell after that sentence ate at him.
"...I'm not a weak wall," Randall assured the other, his voice cracking.
Johnny seemed both amused and pleased at the same time.
"I'm sure you're not." he agreed, something affectionate in his tone. Randall heard the hint of kindness in his voice, and he was instantly smitten once more by the charming demeanor of his fraternity president. Just as he were beginning to relax, he felt the harsh grip of someone's claws against his scalp, holding him in place.
His head was jerked sideways, and he felt a foreign appendage pressing against his face, warm and pulsing slightly. The scent of salt and sweat invaded his nostrils, and the damp flesh caressed his cheek. He was too startled to say anything.
Johnny's tone didn't change.
"Which is why you're going to display some brotherly love tonight, Boggs." he said.
Randall's wrists were jerked down, and he felt similar textured objects thrust into his palms. He felt their heat, their pulse...and suddenly everything connected and he let out a low, startled whine of protest. He was too shocked to say anything.
He was pushed into a new position, his legs being kicked out from under him so that he was somewhat on his back, tail sticking upward in an aggravated curl. His head was held in place with one forceful hand, the same hand which was pushing Randall's mouth harder against the exposed groin. Randall kept his mouth shut, panic flooding his senses. He attempted to move, but the only hands which weren't tied were being forced into similar situations. He couldn't tell who was where, or honestly what was what. It was horrifically disorienting.
The only person he could really place was Johnny, the only one actually speaking. He was looming over him, pressure on Randall's lower feet told him that Johnny was stepping on him to keep him pinned. But, as far as he could tell, Johnny was standing and keeping his hands to himself.
Randall shuddered, realizing what he must look like to Johnny, who was no doubtedly staring at him. He could hear the grin in his voice.
"You don't seem comfortable, Boggs. Something wrong?" the fraternity president asked, his concern sounding too real. It made Randall's stomach churn. He muttered in response, not wanting to open his mouth.
"Heh," Johnny laughed lowly, tsking under his breath. "You should really try to relax. Make it easier on yourself." he said. Randall felt the other shift his weight so that he was on his knees, almost sitting on him. Despite the change, Randall was still just as immobile as he had been before.
Johnny's warm palm pressed against the smooth, flat surface of Randall's exposed stomach. Randall tried to restrain his urge to squirm; Johnny's hand felt slightly too comfortable against his skin. He let out a small, distressed humming sound. Johnny responded by circling his fingers against Randall's soft underbelly scales.
Whoever it was that was holding his left wrist had begun to force Randall into movement, urging him to begin stroking the eager flesh he held within his reluctant fingers.
Randall wasn't compliant.
"Come on, this isn't that difficult." Johnny sang, sounding far too amused by the whole ordeal.
"Johnny, I...I don't want..." Randall sputtered, but shut his mouth when he felt his fraternity brother's cock try to slip in between his lips. The wet tip pressed impatiently against his jawline, and he felt the grip upon his skull tighten.
"Oh? You don't want to?" Johnny asked, sounding offended. His voice made Randall worried, it was eerie how quickly the ROR president's tone could switch. "Hear that, boys? Randall Boggs is too good for the ROR. He doesn't want to be initiated."
Sounds of disapproval echoed in the dark room. Randall heard the others grunting, muttering things that made Randall panic. He'd just got in with the fraternity, and here he was blowing it on his first night. He tried to rationalize it, dismiss his fear. It was just a stupid induction. A lot of fraternities did this sort of thing...
Randall swallowed the lump growing in his dry throat and began to move slowly, experimentally. His fingers, which were damp with sweat and...something else, began to gingerly stroke the warm, impatient organs which the held. He heard a few snickers of approval, and Johnny's hands rubbed his stomach ever so slightly upon his compliance.
The act caused a shiver to run down the freshman's spine.
"Good boy," Johnny purred in a low, almost soothing manner. The the one holding his skull (at this point, Randall was almost positive it was Javier,) grunted impatiently and muttered and expletive under his voice, Johnny pinched Randall's sensitive skin. Randall let out a sharp squeal.
"Open up, Boggs. Don't want to leave one of your brothers out, do you?"
Randall hesitated, but ultimately swallowed his nerve and allowed his lips to part. The moment there was an opening, Javier pushed his hips forward while simultaneously holding Randall's head steadfastly inplace. Randall felt the tip of the long, foreign organ pressing against the back of his throat. He gagged and squirmed in protest.
The moment seemed to go on for forever, until Javier began to move Randall's head back and forth. Randall tried to keep up, but the sensation of the other's arousal slipping in and out of his mouth was too strange to regain his composure immediately. Randall was struggling to maintain his breath, though somehow he was able to keep up the movements with his hands.
"He really sucks at this, man." Randall heard Reggie mutter. He felt a wave of embarrassment grip him, feeling like a failure.
"Hear that, Boggs? You're getting some negative feedback." Johnny teased, pinching Randall's stomach again. "I'm beginning to think you don't really want to be part of ROR after all."
Randall tensed up, sputtering the moment he could get his mouth free long enough to speak. His throat and tongue felt thick, and the saltiness lingering in his mouth was almost overpowering.
"What--no! No, I want to." he pleaded.
"Well, you're not convincing us." Johnny replied flatly. The rejection Randall felt from the other's disappointed phrasing made him sick to his stomach. He so desperately wanted the other to be convinced.
He took a deep breath, trying to get his nerves under control. Though his movements were still awkward and unpracticed, he had a new determination in them. He twisted his neck, taking Javier in his mouth again. Randall squirmed to get comfortable, wishing his second set of arms were free. The fabric was thin, but it still bit into his wrists uncomfortably.
Javier's cock didn't probe his throat this time, not that Randall was actually being proactive on giving it attention. He experimented with a few things, altering the pressure of his lips and tongue in tandem to the groans of approval coming from the larger monster. His fingers now moved just as deftly, and before long his left hand was soaked in a hot, sticky liquid.
He released the cock, but before he could pull away the empty space was refilled by another and he continued pumping.
"My, my..." Johnny's chuckling voice was low, husky. "What a little show you're putting on, with an expression like that..."
Randall heard someone--Chet?--laugh.
Randall flushed deeply, partly from the mortification of how completely shameful he must have looked, but also from the compliment he'd received. At least, he took it as a compliment. Johnny seemed to be pleased with his performance anyway.
He felt Johnny's hands move again, this time downward. Randall's stomach tightened up, a low moan escaping his busied lips. Johnny's deft fingers were so precise; they ghosted downward against the small opening of his cloaca. Johnny's fingers felt damp, Randall idly wondered why until he realized that his own twin cocks were fully unsheathed, dripping slightly from arousal. Johnny had ran his fingers along the base, collecting the thick liquid which had gathered there.
Randall's pucker tightened when he felt the warm, slick finger pressing against it. The area of his groin felt sticky and humid, and he was suddenly very painfully aware of how aroused he actually was. A throaty protest bubbled up from his mouth, but he couldn't squirm away. Javier was now bucking his hips, holding Randall still as Johnny pressed through the first ring of tight muscles.
As he felt dripping wetness of another orgasm running down his fingers, Randall lost concentration of his task and could only seem to focus on Johnny's digits probing him deeper. His sore throat tightened, stifling his moans, and at that moment Javier came hard into his mouth. He held Randall in place, forcing the younger classman to swallow everything in order to breathe again.
And with that, Javier and the others released the grip they held on Randall. He fell onto his back, sputtering and gasping and feeling gross from the thick feeling stuck in his throat. His skin tightened, feeling clammy and salty. Randall coughed, shifting to untie himself. No one moved to stop him; the only one still touching him was Johnny, who still straddled his tail and had his fingers pressing deep inside of him.
Randall almost didn't want to take the blindfold off to save him the embarrassment of seeing himself like this, but he did anyway. He was met by Johnny Worthington's stoic, composed expression. He was as nonchalant and handsome as ever.
Self consciously, Randall wiped his mouth off and tried to rub the stickiness of his palms off. He couldn't bring himself to look at Johnny directly.
"See? It wasn't so hard, Boggs. Just like doing it to a girl. You see?" he grinned.
"...yeah, a...a girl." Randall muttered, despite not being able to relate to the example. His jaw felt sore; he went to try and stand but Johnny held him down.
"Why the rush?" he asked playfully.
"I, uh, aren't I done? I mean, you all..." he trailed off as Johnny quickly pulled his fingers out of him. It made a slick popping noise, and caused Randall to wince. He didn't enjoy the sudden empty feeling, his cock was beginning to hurt from being neglected. He didn't dare move to touch himself, however.
"Oh, but you're forgetting me, aren't you?" Johnny asked, faux hurt lacing his voice. "You took all those cocks like a champion, and you can't take mine? I don't like being left out."
Johnny grinned wickedly, a fierce command in his voice. Randall's stomach tightened again.
Randall shifted, scooting upward. Slowly, he closed his eyes shyly and parted his lips. Before he could continue, Johnny shook his head, lifting a paw to place it over the other's mouth. He forcefully pushed Randall's lips shut.
"No, I'm not putting it in there." Johnny said, laughing in a way that made Randall feel stupid.
"But..." Randall searched the other's eyes, trying to decipher what he wanted. Johnny looked incredibly amused at the reaction. The older monster moved, releasing Randy before patting him affectionately on the head.
"Lie down on your stomach." Johnny ordered.
Randall hesitated, his gaze glancing over at the others. A few seemed to be watching in interest, but some were busy cleaning themselves off, snickering to themselves. Randall turned back to Johnny, giving him one last look of apprehension before complying and lying down flat on his stomach. The floor felt cold against his tummy, despite being plush carpet.
Johnny hummed in pleasure, shifting to grab Randall's hips. He aggressively pushed his tail up and out of the way before pressing his groin against Randall's rear end.
Randall stiffened, realization kicking in.
"What? You're not going to--!" he sputtered.
"Hush. Relax." Johnny commanded. Randall faced forward, keeping his gaze lowered. He felt the stares of the other fraternity members, and embarrassment arrested his focus.
He wished the others weren't looking at him...
He let out a low, frustrated moan as Johnny began moving his hips, rubbing his erect cock against Randall's opening.
"Sure seems tight, Boggs, wonder if I'll fit." Johnny hummed contentedly.
Randall whimpered, almost inaudibly. Johnny seemed amused by his reactions, and continued to tease the entrance by grinding against him. The elder monster leaned over him, breathing in Randall's scent as he began pressing his cock against his entrance. Randall cried out as the other pushed in, burying himself to the hilt.
"O-ow! Ow, Johnny, it hurts," Randall gasped, writhing under the larger monster in protest. Johnny shushed him, looming over far enough to pin Randall down with his bulk.
Randall squirmed for a moment, before finally relaxing. His breathing was heavy, forced.
"Shh. Shh, calm down. C'mon, Randy, it'll hurt worse if you tense up." Johnny said lowly, and Randall felt his skin prickle at the use of his first name. He swallowed his nerve, and tried to do as instructed.
Johnny smirked, his large fangs dominating his smile. Randall glanced over his shoulder at the other for but a moment before facing the ground again, attempting to school his breathing. Johnny seemed pleased with Randall's compliance, and waited no longer to begin bucking his hips.
The sound of flesh against flesh was loud in the quiet room, and Randall felt the stinging painful sensation arrest his senses. He grit his teeth, eyes watering as Johnny continued at this quick, inelegant pace. He heard the fraternity president's breathing become ragged and carnal in his descent into sexual dissipation.
After awhile at this pace, Randall felt his body growing accustomed to the pain. It wasn't gone, not by any means, but it was tolerable as his body shifted and began stretching to accommodate Johnny's pulsing girth. He let out a long sigh as the other hit a sensitive spot deep inside of him.
Randall heard footsteps, and looking up he saw he was being approached by Javier. The insect's cock was fully erect once more as he reclaimed his position in front of Randall's panting lips. He whimpered in protest as the other grabbed his skull again and guided him to the pulsing organ in front of him. Without a word, Randall opened his mouth to receive.
To his surprise, Javier pulled away suddenly after a low, reverberating growl hissed through Johnny's clenched teeth. Randall caught the dangerous expression in Johnny's glare, which was directed at the other fraternity member. He shivered as Javier, looking irritated, backed away without a word.
Randall was confused by the exchange, though a moment later he felt Johnny's hot breath caressing his cheek as the larger monster pressed to him tighter, fucking him with a new intensity.
"Fuck--mine, my turn, fuck that guy--" he muttered under his breath. Randall was surprised by the spite in his voice. "--You feel so fucking good, Boggs, shit."
Randall shivered again, Johnny's thrusts hitting him a little too hard. He let out a weak, pained noise. Johnny seemed to catch this, and to Randall's surprise the older monster slowed his pace.
After a short pause, Randall felt the other's large claws running down his stomach, through the junction between his two sets of legs. He whimpered when Johnny found his cocks, skillfully wrapping his fingers around them both and rubbing them together in rythym to his thrusts. The sudden attention to the neglected organs made Randall cry out, his hips bucking against Johnny's thrusts.
"Ah--good boy," Johnny breathed, his composure sounding completely gone now. Johnny seemed completely different than he had before, it was incredibly bizarre to see the other monster lost in his wanton lust. Randall cried out, quivering as he felt the other began to pump him faster, bucking his hips and snarling in a completely feral manner.
Randall was beginning to feel waves of pleasure striking him with each thrust, his mouth gaped slightly as his panting intensified. He felt breathless, overwhelmed, unable to move.
Johnny seemed to notice Randall's change in demeanor. His nostrils flared at the small noises the lowerclassman was making, a sick sense of victory compelling him to bring the smaller monster to his climax.
"Ah, you've done this before, huh, Boggs? Your body is reacting to mine so well, curving into me--fuck." he chuckled under his breath, his voice so low Randall barely heard him. He shivered when the other continued, by now delirious with pleasure. His body ached for release. "You love it-- you're so hungry for it, huh? I feel you tightening around my cock--you want to finish, don't you?"
Randall whimpered in response, unable to reply. He was completely astounded by how vocal the other was, and how vulgar his words were.
Johnny grunted, picking up his pace. Randall cried out loudly as the over picked up his speed, and before long the approach of orgasm made the purple lizard tense; four sets of toes curling as he reached as hard as he could to achieve release.
When Randall came, he let out another loud moan of pleasure, which translated into a tophy of conquest to Johnny's ears. He moaned, muttering wonderfully wicked things to the smaller creature, feeling himself near his own completion.
A low roar vibrated the plush floor beneath Randall, seemingly shaking the entire room. The larger monster reached his climax, releasing a hot, sticky substance inside of Randall. His grip tightened, his breathing hitched, and for a long moment they were completely still as Johnny came. The hot liquid felt galling, foreign. Randall let out a low groan.
After the moment had passed, Randall fell limp against the carpet, breathless and feeling uncomfortably full. Johnny, still inside the other, propped himself up by supporting his weight with his forearms. He was struggling to catch his breath as well, looking fatigued from the exertion.
Randall flinched when Johnny finally pulled out, releasing him and slowly rising to his feet. The air between them had been hot, so the absense of his bulk allowed a cool rush to crawl across the skin of his back. He shuddered and tried to rise as well, feeling sore.
Randall kept his gaze low, looking at the floor as he stood. He could feel Johnny adjusting himself, smoothing his fur and sweater and composing his posture. When Randall glanced over at the other, it was as if Johnny had never lost his cool. It was surprising how quickly his demeanor had changed.
Johnny was shifting the collar of his yellow shirt, clearing his throat and wearing an inplacable expression. A few appriciative comments were made from the group of spectators, but Randall had been too distracted to really hear what they were saying. Johnny, after a long moment, caught Randall's disheveled gaze.
"Well. Good job. Welcome to ROR." he said, almost too casually. Randall shifted his weight, awkwardly standing in the dim room, not knowing what to do next. He turned to watch as the others began filtering back out of the room slowly, wondering if he should follow.
Johnny walked passed him, patting him on the shoulder.
"Go get yourself cleaned up." he muttered quietly, before passing the small lizard and heading towards the door. Randall saw Johnny and Javier exchange predatory glances, and it looked as if the fraternity president were hissing a low, angry comment into the insect's ear. Javier responded with an equally angry glance, shoving passed Johnny and stiffly walking off.
Randall watched as Johnny left, who did not even offer him a final glance. For a moment, he felt a little rejected though he couldn't place the origin of the emotion. It quickly vanished, the gravity of the situation didn't even seem to register as he felt his chest swell with victory.
He was in. He was a ROR!
Randall grinned to himself sheeipishly, chuckling under his breath as he headed off to the shower.