Sucing It Up

3.

Pike was still their drill sergeant. After getting out of the hole, Mouse noticed that as the first thing important to know. As much leeway as the captain had, and how much of a blunder Pike had committed by beating the shit out of him, it didn't matter. Not that it surprised him. But it did make him kind of bitter. From now on, he'd have to sleep with one eye open; who knew what that fucker intended to do to him? There was no way to know. He sure as hell didn't want to find out, but it didn't matter what he wanted. It never had, and never would.

Ryan fell in line with him as he marched towards the barracks. "You the welcoming committee, Peewee?" Mouse asked.

"Come on, don't call me that," Ryan moaned. "Someone might hear us."

"Alright, alright, as you say. But don't you know I have leper now? You should stay away. In broad daylight, at least."

"That's not true," Ryan insisted. "Everyone knows Pike's a fucking bastard. We all hate him. He would do the same to either of us if he could. Good thing he's not the captain, or our lives would be hell."

"How are the others? Did they get by without me?" Mouse joked.

"I missed you," Ryan said under his breath.

"You snuck into the hole every night." Mouse did the same by dropping his voice. "How can you say that?"

"I missed you out in the field. You're a real mate, Ahab."

"Well, color me flattered."

"Don't go there," Ryan said, gesturing at the barracks. "The captain wants to see you."

"Why?" Mouse felt slightly apprehensive. Reynolds was pretty much a mystery to him at that point. He would scold him, and punish him, and then caress his cheeks and act like he was about to kiss him. Nah, the last part was just his imagination.

"I don't think it's anything bad," Ryan hurried to add, mistaking his change in tone for something else.

"I'll see what it is, then. Can't I take a shower first? I kind of stink."

"No. He said you should go see him directly once you're out."

"Okay then. No moment like the present." Mouse patted Ryan on the back. "Are you getting along with Jordan?"

"Don't you have a nickname for him, too?" Ryan bristled.

"Nah, I'm only giving those to people I really like." Ryan's cute face lit up at that for a brief moment. Mouse patted his cheek. "Now, shoo and see about your business. We don't want people to think I got myself a dog, right?"

Ryan smirked at that. "I wouldn't mind."

"You're just saying," Mouse teased.

There wasn't any trace of a smile left on his face when he entered the main building and headed over to the captain's office. He had no idea what Reynolds had in store for him. All this time he had spent in the hole, higher-ups -- the kind who hired assholes like Pike in the army and didn't mind sacrificing chum like him -- could have reached out to the captain.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Whatever it was, he would find out soon.

Captain Reynolds was at his desk, as usual. "Ahab," he said and threw him a hard to read look.

"Reporting for duty, sir," Mouse said and saluted.

"At ease. There's a call for you. I'll be out for a few. Just keep it short."

Mouse had no idea what to make of it all but took the phone Reynolds handed to him and put it to his ear.

The captain was already out of the room, when Karl's voice carried to him like from another world. "Mouse," he said shortly.

"Hey, asshole," Mouse said, wondering if he could afford himself to feel relieved or not. "What's up?"

"I'm getting married."

"Well, good for you. Are you still going forward with that? Man, your heart is fucking ice. What does Kekko say?"

"I'm getting married to Cesco."

Mouse remained nonplussed for a couple of moments and moved the phone from one ear to the other. "Have you placed a long-distance call just to pull my leg, you fucker?"

"It's no joke," Karl replied, in that same clipped manner of his. Army dudes tended to be like that after a while. Even if Karl was no longer with his unit, he still had the same manners.

"Well, I'm surprised. No, I'm shocked. That's the word. Wait, is daddy alright with that?"

"He's paying for the whole shit."

"Damn. Did he fall on his head or something? And why the fuck don't you sound happy? You're marrying my Kekko, for crying out loud." Mouse sat in Reynolds' chair, as the news was starting to sink in. There was a strange feeling inside him he couldn't explain.

"He's not your Kekko," Karl said tersely.

"Okay, ours," Mouse conceded.

Karl remained silent.

"Wait, did you call to invite me to the wedding?"

"No. Don't come. At all. Not until a bit later."

"What am I supposed to get from this? Can't I even walk you two to the altar or some shit?"

"It's not a happy day or whatever, you moron," Karl suddenly snapped.

"You're one weird fuck. Are you still on that you're not a fag, while dying to plow Kekko's tight pussy every single fucking day?"

Maybe it wasn't that good an idea to rile up Karl since he was the only ally he had in the outside world, but he couldn't help it. He felt pissed.

Karl drew in a long breath and then released it. "We'll talk later. I'll send for you."

"Send for me? Hey, what's this all about? Stop being so mysterious, for fuck's sake."

"You're not invited to the wedding, but you are to the honeymoon," Karl said quickly.

"Honeymoon?"

"Yeah. I need you there."

Mouse remained tongue-tied for a while. "Need me? Think Kekko's too thirsty for cock to deal with him on your own?"

"I can deal with him. But I gotta live with the fact that he's mad crazy about you."

It wasn't like Karl to admit stuff like that.

"Wait, you said you're the one who needs me, not Kekko."

"Yeah, I have things to talk to you."

"Alright."

"I don't want to talk about them on the phone."

"Alright."

Karl finished the convo without saying goodbye. Mouse stared at the phone, still incapable of processing what the fuck had just happened.

Captain Reynolds was back that very moment. Mouse jumped from the chair and put the phone down. He was a bit fucked up on the inside, so he just moved around the desk and walked toward the door.

The captain put a hand on his shoulder, and he stopped. "Bad news?"

Mouse shook his head. "No."

The grip on his shoulder increased, making him look up. "The sergeant won't bother you again."

Mouse just nodded, biting his lips. He needed some freaking alone time to think of what Karl and Francesco getting married meant.

"Dismissed," the captain said, releasing him.

He couldn't get out much faster.

***

He lay on his bed bunk on one side. Karl was marrying Kekko, but he wasn't happy about it. How did Francesco feel about all that? Sure thing, none of them had ever thought of such a possibility before. Francesco was meant to be Karl's side piece, at best, with sneaking out to fuck while Karl's wife play the role of the perfect spouse. Mouse had always hoped he'd be able to go back to Kekko once his dues were paid. Some sort of a life together, he had imagined that, like in his best dreams.

But now Karl was ahead again. And they were getting married. Mouse was between laughing until he couldn't breathe and punching a hole through a wall. The decision of what to do was the problem; it kept him sort of paralyzed.

He missed someone sitting on the bunk bed in front of him. "Hey, man, you alright?"

It had to be Peewee, always ready to get in his business.

Mouse snorted. "Well, not quite."

"Bad news from home?"

Sure thing, anyone would assume that. Mouse decided to be a little more honest than he had been earlier, with the captain. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Ryan asked slowly.

Mouse looked at him for a moment. "My boyfriend's getting married."

Ryan's eyes grew wide. "You have a boyfriend?"

"Yes. Does it sound that hard to believe?"

Ryan munched on his lower lip, staring at Mouse like a kicked puppy.

"Come on, don't give me that look," Mouse said. "I can't be your boyfriend, Ryan."

He expected his only friend in the place to get out and leave at that. He had understood that Ryan was very much the kind to like having a boyfriend, but he knew that it couldn't be him.

However, Ryan surprised him. "We'll sneak out tonight. We'll go drinking."

"What?" Mouse asked. "The captain will have our asses for it."

"We won't leave the premises," Ryan said with a wave of the hand. "And the booze is well hidden. You know, kept for a good occasion."

"Is this a good occasion? Save your booze, pal."

Ryan shook his head. "No way. You're down. I feel you. And you make everyone around here feel a little less down, you know?"

"With blowjobs," Mouse said with a snort.

"It doesn't matter how," Ryan continued. "So, tonight, I'm going to help you feel good."

"By getting fucked on bad liquor?"

"We could also fool around if you want," Ryan suggested.

Mouse laughed. "Who could resist an offer like that?"

"Exactly," Ryan concluded and jumped to his feet. "Are we on for tonight, then?"

Mouse grinned. "Okay, I'm in."

Well, things were not so bad, after all. And if Karl wanted him completely out of Kekko's life, he wouldn't say that he wanted him over for the honeymoon.

All you needed to do sometimes is to put things in perspective.

***

Ryan's stash of liquor wasn't half-bad. Mouse took a long swig from the bottle and groaned as the liquid burned his throat. "You weren't talking out of your ass, Peewee. This shit rules."

Ryan puffed out his chest. They were inside the supply room, at the back, getting fucked on some dubious brand of whiskey. Dubious was a way of saying, because it did its thing, and Mouse was starting to feel a little light-headed and in the mood for more.

"If you ever need anything, Ahab, you can always come to me. I'll make it happen. Unless it's a villa in the desert or some shit."

"Call me Mouse."

Ryan stared at him. They had a small lamp as company, placed on one of the shelves. The guy's eyes shone in the dark. "Tell me about your boyfriend, Mouse. How's he like?"

"You like twisting the knife, don't you?" Mouse took another gulp.

"You need closure," Ryan insisted.

He sounded like a kid who had gone to school a lot. Mouse wanted to please him, though. And he wanted to talk about Kekko, too.

"He's real pretty," he started. "He has a cute face. Like you."

Ryan coughed after drinking his turn. "You only say so."

"No, there are just some guys, you know, they have a likeable face. Francesco--" he stopped as his mind took him someplace else.

"Francesco? Is he Italian? From Italy?" Ryan asked, hungry for more details.

"No, not from Italy. But he's Italian, yeah. He's hot," Mouse said and laughed, banging his head against the edge of the shelf behind him. "He has a really nice ass. So fuckable."

Ryan remained silent.

"If you'd rather not hear about it, just say," Mouse suggested.

"I do want," Ryan contradicted him. "Tell me more about him."

"He has a glare," Mouse continued and laughed. "When he glares at you like that, you just want to fuck him. And when he laughs, you want to fuck him. When he stares at you like he wants to get fucked, you want to blow him. His cock is so tasty."

"Is his big?" Ryan asked, with a hint of jealousy in his voice.

"Nah, it's not. But I like it. He fucked me so many times. He just know what to do with it, you know? He knows how to make love."

"Who is he getting married to? A girl?"

"No, his boyfriend."

That gave Ryan pause.

Mouse hurried to the rescue. "Yeah, I know, it's complicated."

"Do you know him? Your boyfriend's boyfriend?"

"Yeah, I know him. He's inviting me on their honeymoon."

"Why?"

"Because he knows Kekko loves me."

"You call him Kekko? And, oh, shoot, is his future husband really okay with you?"

"He might not want to, but he's a guy who's starting to learn how to share properly, I think."

"Is he going to share Francesco with you?"

Mouse shrugged and gestured for the bottle. "I hope so. I hope he doesn't want me on their honeymoon only so that he could rub it in my face."

"If I were Francesco, I'd choose you," Ryan said softly.

Mouse knew a cue when he saw one. He was ready when Ryan moved clumsily over to him and kissed him. He wrapped his hand around the back of Ryan's neck and opened his mouth to deepen the kiss.

"The fuck are you two doing here?"

Ryan jumped to his feet. "Mannard, you asshole, the fuck are you here?"

Mouse looked at Jordan. The guy was staring at Ryan with an unreadable expression on his face. Jordan was ignoring him, apparently.

"You two are sneaking around a lot," Jordan accused.

"If you want a blowjob, just say so," Mouse offered.

Only then did Jordan look at him. Wow, he could read some real hatred in there. What was that all about? Oh, shit, was Jordan Pike's pet now? Mouse shook his head, trying to get rid of the effect of booze, but it wasn't that easy.

"I don't want a blowjob from you," Jordan said and spat on the ground.

"What do you want, then?" Mouse asked.

"Ryan's been sucking your dick," Jordan hissed. "I heard the two of you talking."

"And?" Mouse shrugged and reached for Ryan to pull him away from Jordan's wrath. That guy had a messy mind when it came to sex and who did what.

But Jordan, being sober and all, was fast to grab Ryan and pull him to him.

"What the fuck?" Ryan struggled, but he was unsure on his feet. Jordan looked like he was holding him not to fall.

"Yeah, what the fuck?" Mouse repeated the question. "Let him go."

"I want my dick sucked, too," Jordan said while swinging Ryan in his arms like he was playing with some doll.

"Are you fucking stupid? I just offered," Mouse pointed out.

Jordan suddenly kissed Ryan's cheek. "I want Ryan to suck me off."

Mouse felt his jaw hurting. And he had fucking warned Ryan about becoming a cocksucker.

"Why would you want that? And by the way, Ryan's not a cocksucker," Mouse insisted. "We were just talking shit. None like that happened."

Jordan let go of Ryan and turned him so that they were facing each other. Ryan was staring at Jordan, his eyes as big as saucers.

"You're a cocksucker," Jordan threw at Ryan.

Ryan, emboldened by the liquid courage in his bloodstream, crossed his arms. "So? That doesn't mean I'm going to suck your dick."

"Why not? What's wrong with it?" Jordan opened his fly and took out his cock. It was already hard and leaking.

Mouse scratched his head. What the fuck was that about? If only he wasn't already fucked up on booze.

"I just don't want to suck your cock," Ryan continued. "You're an asshole and you say I have a pencil dick."

"You have a pencil dick," Jordan retorted. "You're good for taking it up the ass, you fucking little slut."

"Wait, wait, wait," Mouse intervened. "Jordan, it's no fucking wonder no one wants to suck your dick, your girlfriend included. Or especially her."

Jordan set his jaw hard. "I don't have a girlfriend. Not anymore. The fucking slut went and married my best friend."

"It must be the wedding season or something," Mouse muttered under his breath. "Hey, man, take heart. She's not going to suck that poor shmuck's dick, either. But that's no reason to insult Ryan."

"Why?" Jordan asked aggressively, closing his fists. "Is he your girlfriend or something?"

Mouse considered his chances. He could try and punch Jordan, but the asshole had the advantage of being sober and enraged over having been jilted. That would end badly. "Jordan, man, I get it that you're angry. I know how that feels, trust me. But how about you take a seat on the floor and have a drink with us? You're gonna feel better soon."

"I want my dick sucked," Jordan insisted, but it looked like his resolve was wavering.

Mouse took the bottle and handed it to him. "Come on, man. Just pour some liquor on that wound. It'll help."

Jordan snatched the bottle from him and brought it to his lips. With a tilt of the head, he let its content pour into his mouth. His throat bulged as he swallowed and swallowed.

"Hey, man, slow down," Mouse said.

Jordan shook off his touch. He gave back the bottle only when it was only a few gulps left in it. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then sat on the floor. More like crashed, but it was good enough. Mouse gestured for Ryan to do the same. Jordan's cock was still out, but the guy didn't seem to care.

Mouse decided that it wasn't his place to comment on that.

***

"She's such a fucking bitch," Jordan moaned.

The dude had been complaining for what felt like hours now. Even drunk beyond belief, Mouse still felt like he was minutes away from wanting to kick himself in the head with something and knock himself out only to escape that never-ending lament.

"You'll find someone else."

Unlike him, Ryan still managed to be sympathetic to his mate's plight. Mouse grinned as he thought of something to shake up things.

"You're a catch," Ryan insisted while patting Jordan's knee. The guy still had his cock hanging over his pants, but at least now he was limp. "Girls will fight over you when you get back home."

"Why were you so bent on Ryan sucking your cock when you barged in here?" Mouse asked.

Jordan looked at him with blurry eyes. "Because he has a beautiful mouth, and I'm jealous that it's only you he wants to suck off."

Ryan's grunt told Mouse how big a surprise that was.

"If I were a fag, like you," Jordan said in all honesty, "I'd want Ryan to be my girlfriend. I'd fuck him in the ass every day, because he has a nice ass."

"Dude, what the fuck?" Ryan protested in a slurred voice. "I don't want to get fucked in the ass. And I'm not a fag, either."

Right, that sounded convincing.

"Ryan, my man, I think Jordan here has it bad for you. He's a fucking moron and an ape, but he likes you."

Jordan didn't say anything. He was playing with the empty bottle, looking down.

"Is it true?" Ryan asked. "Jordan, do you like me?"

"Yeah," Jordan admitted.

Confessions from the fucking bottle. But they were usually the true kind.

"What kind of like?" Ryan asked.

Jordan grunted. He was obviously struggling to find the right words. "Dunno. It makes my blood boil that you sucked off Mouse and you don't want to suck me off."

"Would it make you feel better if I did?" Ryan asked.

"Are you kidding me? It would make like, a total difference."

They had the excuse of being drunk. Maybe Jordan wouldn't even be able to get it up anymore. Mouse watched.

"Then, I'll suck you off," Ryan ventured. "But it's just this one time. And if you tell others, I'll cut your fucking dick."

That didn't sound convincing at all, that threat at the end. Well, now that was a good conclusion.

"Do you guys want me to leave you alone?" Mouse suggested.

Ryan shook his head. "No. I'm not sure if I can swallow that." He pointed at Jordan's cock that was growing slowly but shortly to full mast.

"I can help you," Mouse offered.

Jordan didn't protest as Mouse pushed him to lie down, his back to the floor, his cock up like a flag on national day. Mouse grabbed the thing from the base and gestured for Ryan to come closer. "Come here, let's see how much you can take."

Ryan was the determined kind, booze or no booze. He hurried over and knelt between Jordan's legs. Mouse observed him how he took the hard cock between his lips and began going down. It didn't last and he began to choke.

"Don't go so fast. Here, hold it." Ryan took Jordan's cock from Mouse's hand. "Compensate for what you can't swallow with your hand. Like this."

Ryan was smart and a quick learner. He was on the job like a penniless whore. And maybe he had a thing for Jordan's cock, too, because he began to slurp while savoring his meal.

"Fuck," Jordan groaned. "Yeah, suck me, bitch."

Mouse slapped the moron on the chest. "Stop being a fucking asshole once in a while, Jordan. It's gonna improve your love life, I swear."