Page 9 of Julian Shared (Secret Lives of Hot Twinks #2)
Joel
By the time I make it past the checkpoint, Big Prick is already pulsating with activity. We might be on the smaller side when it comes to personnel, but no slack is permitted among the ranks. Reveille is called right on time and never a second late.
The stars and stripes fly high right alongside the post’s colors.
I manage to make it to the command offices with a couple minutes to spare. With my thermos already empty from the drive over, I make use of the extra time by swinging to the break room and pouring myself a second cup of coffee.
I’m going to need the help to make it through the day. I’m too old to be pulling all-nighters.
“Good morning, Command Sergeant Major Flores,” one of my subordinate soldiers greets me when I get to my office.
“Shut the fuck up,” I grin, “haven't got that promotion yet.”
He grins right back at me. “It’s a near enough thing.”
“The usual sir will do just fine for now.”
Too damn early in the morning for gossip. And too damn early to be bragging in public about a promotion that’s not mine. Not quite yet. I tell him to can it and we get on with the day. I dive into work, eager to be out of here by 1700 hours.
After today’s shitty start, I need to end it on a better note. Julian didn’t want to exchange anniversary presents this year. Fair enough. But it ain’t technically our anniversary anymore.
I’m already mentally running through a list of things I could pick up for him on my way home as I clear out my email and return a few phone calls.
Sometimes it’s still a little surreal that this is my life now.
No more sweating my balls off in the desert or getting my ass shot at. I’m safe and sound behind a desk with AC on full blast. I still deal with a lot of bullshit, but these days it’s bureaucratic bullshit instead of field bullshit.
Which tended to get quite literal on the shit front.
As one of the post's most senior non-commissioned officers, I'm the bridge between the enlisted soldiers and command. It's my job to be the human face beyond all the orders from up high. I enforce standards, oversee training, keep morale high, and when necessary, I dole out punishments.
When I rise in rank from sergeant major to command sergeant major, my job will be much the same, but there will be…more of it.
And with a fatter paycheck, of course.
As time ticks on, the day gets busier. And nosier. I pause in the middle of typing up a report when I hear shouting from the other side of the window. I step up to the glass to see what the commotion is about.
My office faces the barracks, and there's a whole line of enlisted men out for some late morning PT.
Though instead of jogging and push-ups, it looks like a wrestling bout.
With only two men on the ground.
"The fuck is going on?" I murmur. "Is that Specialist Tillman?"
Tillman's a good soldier, but he specializes in helicopter repairs. Not suplexes.
And the soldier he has locked in a submissive position…shit. That’s Manuel.
I might be getting too old for all-nighters.
But I’ll never be too old for some ass-kicking.
◆◆◆
By the time I make it outside, Manuel’s turned the tide of the fight to his favor. He has Tillman splayed face down and Manuel’s posed above him, in control of one of Tillman’s arms. They’re screaming obscenities at each other while the rest of the soldiers egg on the violent theatrics.
Who the hell is in charge here? Me now, apparently.
“Stand down!” I holler. With an open scowl and flex of my upper arm muscles, I use my full strength and both arms to wrangle Manuel away. Once he realizes it’s me, all the fighting fervor drains out of him. After I’ve hauled Manuel off Tillman, I pull rank to get everyone else in line.
The rest of the soldiers quiet down once they notice who I am. They’re real quick to shut their traps, stand up straight, and keep their eyes pinned forward.
This lapse in order and outburst of bad behavior is going to have to be dealt with immediately.
Manuel’s wiping blood off his face, but it isn’t his. Tillman’s the one with blood pouring out of his nose. And tears streaming down his face.
“He fucking Jodied me, sir!” Tillman cries out.
Whatever happened, it ain’t being sorted out while everybody’s blood is running hot and the adrenaline is rushing. “Private,” I call out one specific wide-eyed-looking soldier. “Escort Specialist Tillman here to the MTF.”
The medics will see to his injury over there while I see to the damage done here.
“As for the rest of y’all, drop and me give me forty right now to finish off PT. And then get your asses back to the barracks. I want a two-page report of what went down, and it’ll be on my desk in the next hour, understood?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” The rest of the soldiers ring out in unison and drop down in sync.
As for Manuel, well, I march his sulking ass right into my office.
◆◆◆
“What the fuck was that?” I demand with a glare once the door to my office is shut.
“Hey, I didn’t swing first.” Manuel’s mouth slinks into a smirk. “He started it. I just ended it.”
When Manuel’s attempts to clean the leftover blood over his face with spit and a tissue get him nowhere fast, I rip it from his hand and wad it up, throwing it into the trash. I’ve got a pack of wet wipes shoved in my desk drawer. I hand it over to him. “Clean yourself up.”
While Manuel wipes his face, I grill him for the details and specifics over what just happened. “Did you really sleep with his wife?”
“Yeah, I did.”
It takes me a moment to believe Manuel, but no further bragging or joke comes along. “What the fuck are you doing? You’re gay.”
Manuel shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, mostly gay, but I ran out of hot twinks around post to screw. Got bored. Thought I’d experiment and find out what pussy tastes like. Not too bad, didn’t even need to add hot sauce.”
Manuel’s crude and disrespectful joke falls flat. I don’t even look at him and my lack of reaction cuts right to the quick of his ego.
“Anyway, that thing with Tillman’s wife was a one-off. It won’t happen again. I’ll go back to the hot twinks.”
“What’re you talking about?” I cross my arms. “If you wanna do your fuck boy antics, save it for leave and go to Canyon City. Plenty of new pretty boys to meet there.”
Manuel pauses in mid-wipe. “No, hot twinks…as in hot twinking. Don’t you get it?”
I must not. “What the fuck do you mean?”
Manuel grins like he’s just been permitted to tell me a secret. “You know, a hot twink. Like a hot wife? We can’t let the straights have all the fun. It’s when you love your partner so much you…spread the love around by sharing them with others.”
Is that what the kids are calling swinging these days? Though Manuel’s not a kid. He’s my age. Yet that’s never stopped him from being an immature idiot.
As I think, I pinch the bridge of my nose. My confusion is outgrowing my frustration as I adopt these new terms and kinks into my vocabulary and try to apply it to the present situation. “All right, so, Tillman’s wife? Minh? She’s a…hot wife.”
“Yeah, no. That was just cheating.”
What an asshole. At least Manuel finally has the decency to look ashamed of himself.
“Why would you do this?” I ask him outright.
“Shit, man. We don’t all got picture picture-perfect marriages and stay-at-home twinks to be at our every beck and call.”
I shoot him a sharp look. “You’re jealous you never stopped being a fuck boy. Always too scared to grow up and fall in love.”
“Fair enough,” Manuel mutters.
I take a deep breath and shake my head. Manuel might be my oldest friend, but I'm not protecting him from this. He’s got to face the consequences of his own actions.
Manuel wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “Shit. I really fucked up this time, huh?”
“Yeah. You did.” I nod. “Look, drop the bravado and stop fighting. If this ends up before court, own up to it. Accept whatever happens. Even if that means a demotion or getting kicked out…and try keeping your dick in your pants for a change.”
Manuel starts to perk up again. “Can’t promise that, but I won’t ever fuck someone’s wife again. I’ll stick to the hot twinks. Maybe even get one my own.”
He’s never going to learn, is he? But that’s always been Manuel. Well, not always. Once upon a time it was him trying to warn me not to stick my dick in crazy.
“C’mon, let’s get you to your CO.”
Huh. Hot twinking. So, that’s what it’s called. That must be what our neighbors were up to the other night. So much debauchery happening on post and I was none the wiser to it all. I try and stop thinking about it, but my mind keeps coming back to that idea.
Kinky sharing.
I smile to myself. I know exactly what present to get Julian on the way home tonight.