Chapter Text
Cal is coming out of his morning shower when he first hears about it.
“You hear about the new kid?”
“In Unit 4?”
“Yeah, heard he’s a proper little slut. Takes cock like a dream, apparently.”
Cal stutters as he opens his locker. He feels heat bloom on his cheeks and tries to focus on the task of taking his clean uniform out and getting dressed, but the voices and jeers are impossible to block out.
“Unit 1 ships out in three days so Cap said we could hit it tomorrow. The boys in Unit 2 and 3 are gonna join too. You gonna stop by?”
“ Shiiit, man. I got patrol all night.”
“Well, fuck. Maybe he’ll still be open in the morning for a quickie. Breakfast in bed, ya know.”
Cal hears laughter echoing off the walls of the locker room as he leaves. He heads straight to the kitchen for cooking line duty and puts the conversation out of his mind.
It isn’t until lunchtime the next day that he hears about it again, spoken by a tall ginger guy in the serving line.
“You know Gorski, Unit 4? He said the little slut came onto him in the locker room. Rode him right there on the bench.”
“Shit, I can’t wait for tonight, dude. I haven’t gotten laid in weeks.”
“Yeah, I mean I ain’t no fairy, but I heard he’s a looker. N’ a hole’s a hole, ya know?”
“Aha, a devil as always, LT.”
The two men break out into raucous laughter as they finish filling their trays and head towards the tables. Cal can’t stop the furious blush that rises on his face unbidden. He’s heard guys in his Unit talk like this before — hell, even guys back home spoke like that in the locker room — but he still cannot believe how openly, how crudely, how directly they speak about sex here. Sex with a man, no less. Sex with a man whom they consistently refer to by all manner of vulgar nickname and dirty descriptor.
Cal was expecting some level of adjustment after his transfer. It’s a higher level security base, full of career soldiers and hardcore veterans who have years of experience over him. He was expecting to be pushed to his limits, to earn his place among the troops, to prove his worth on the battlefield. But he wasn’t expecting the casual, aloof way the majority of the base’s occupants seems to approach life here. He supposes that once you’ve been to a warzone, nothing else in the world feels quite as grave. Not even talking about big gay orgies.
But Cal’s never been to a warzone. He’s never been to an orgy. He’s never so much as thought about calling someone a slut and he’s certainly never fucked anyone rough enough to believe he could. He’s a good shot with a scope but he’s as green as they come — a proverbial sheep among wolves. If he wants to do well here and work his way up the ranks, he needs to stay on track.
He can’t afford distractions. Tempting as they may be.
Cal’s lying on his cot in a mostly empty barrack that same evening, a yellowed and chafed copy of Frankenstein held in one hand, when two of the senior vets in his unit barrel through the door in a heap. They’re laughing and falling all over each other, reeking of alcohol and clearly inebriated. The taller one — Henricks, Cal recalls — is the first to speak.
“What are you pussies still doing here? Party’s already started. Head over to Bunk 4 if you want a piece,” he relays.
Some of the men get up and exit the barracks, quietly laughing amongst each other. Cal watches them leave but makes no move to get up. He stares too long though, and Henricks catches him looking. Cal quickly slips his gaze back to his book and forces himself to focus on the words on the page. He rereads the same sentence three times when a thick, calloused finger lands on the top of the book and pushes it down.
“How bout you, Greenbean? You in?” Cal swallows.
“I…” Cal clears his throat and wills his voice to stay steady. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Cadet, don’t play dumb. You must have heard about it around the base the past few days.”
Despite trying to keep his face as neutral as possible, he feels his cheeks warm. The tint must give him away.
“So you have heard,” Henricks croons knowingly. “What’s the problem then? You a virgin?”
“I’m not- I like… girls,” Cal says, but he doesn’t sound sure even to his own ears.
Henricks smirks and suddenly makes himself comfortable on Cal’s bed beside him. The smell of cheap booze and cigarettes washes over him as the veteran wraps his arm around his shoulders over-familiarly and pats his chest where his name tag is sewn on.
“Kid, one thing you learn about active duty is it’s real fucking hard on the balls. Take your kicks where you can get ‘em, trust me. There won’t be much opportunity once we ship out.”
“Besides, I heard he’s pretty,” Delgado adds with a jeer. “If you turn him over and pull his ass up, you can probably just pretend he’s a chick.”
When Cal makes no move to get up, Henricks just sighs to himself, pats Cal’s shoulder amicably and lifts himself off the bed.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, kid,” he grunts.
Henricks throws his arm around Delgado and they both move to the barracks door. Just as it’s closing behind them, Cal calls out.
“Wait,” he says.
Delgado holds the door open behind them expectantly and fixes Cal with a raised brow.
Cal considers what Henricks said and weighs his options, before making a decision. He throws his book on his cot, gets up, and strides through the door past the two older men before he can think better of it. The large steel door of the barracks falls shut behind them with a sound like a gavel dropping.
“Attaboy,” Henricks praises, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him slightly as he massages into his traps, like Cal’s a boxer gearing up for a big fight. Cal wills himself not to stiffen at the touch.
After the veteran’s meaty hands drop from Cal’s shoulders, Henricks sweeps past him to catch up to Delgado. Cal trails behind them silently, trying to ease his nerves.
It’s just a party, for Christ’s sake. If he’s uncomfortable, he can always just leave. He doesn’t have to participate. No one will push him.
He’s just going to see what all the fuss is about.