TO MY READERS: As I write this, the fighting continues in Iraq and Afghanistan where our gallant forces, especially members of the United States Marine Corps, are still being killed and wounded on a daily basis. This story is dedicated to all members of the United State Military who are living in harms way.
Copyright (c) 2005 by RimPig. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to Nifty Archives, to archive and display this work. All other uses are expressly forbidden unless explicit arrangement has been made with the author. This copyright applies to all chapters and pages of this work. It may not be reproduced, posted, stored electronically, or archived, except for personal, non-public use, without the express written permission of the author.
RECRUITED FOR THE CORPS Part 1 by RimPig 2005
It's hell living on your own, especially when you're only 17. I'd been on my own for about a year now after my mother died. She was a hooker and a junkie and died of a heroin overdose one night. I'd been out panhandling for money to try and get something to eat when I came back to the rat-hole we called an apartment and found her stone-cold dead on the floor, the needle still sticking out of her arm. I didn't know what to do so I went down to the corner and called 911 and then watched from a safe distance while the ambulance and police came and took the body away.
I knew that if the cops knew about me, they'd call for Social Services and I'd end up in some group home. No thank you! Better to live free on my own! But that had proved very tough to do. I would have had an easier time of it if I'd taken up my mother's profession - sold my young ass and cock on the street. I saw lots of guys do that. I also saw them end up dead from drugs, just like my mom. No thank you, again!
Another reason that I didn't want to hustle is that I had no illusions about myself. Oh, I was cute and young enough to do it, but I knew I was gay. I'd figured that out pretty quick once I got into high school and started taking showers in gym class! Since my masturbation fantasies were all about what I saw in those showers everyday, it didn't take me long to figure out which way I swung. But, you see, most of the guys I met out on the streets hustling couldn't really admit that. They always said they did it because they just needed the money and were really straight. Bullshit! They liked what they did. I knew it and, I think, so did they. But I wasn't interested in just having some old dude suck my cock! I wanted to find a guy that I could have sex with who turned me on - and not for money.
So I did what I could. Picked up odd jobs here and there for a while until I finally found a job working in a used bookstore. The owner was this old guy who was really eccentric. Well...I guess you could say crazy because you have to be rich to be eccentric. And he sure wasn't rich. But he was odd! Not in a bad way, mind you. His name was Mr. Holloway and he lived in a little apartment behind the store.
Every day after school I'd work in the shop. I'd sweep the place and dust the bookshelves and help whatever customers we got. Yeah! Even with a mother who was a junkie, I still went to school! I wanted to make something of myself, not end up like her! That's, in fact, how I met Mr. Holloway to begin with. He puts out this table out front of his store filled with paperbacks that he gives away for nothing. Many of them are classics and since I love to read, I used to hit that table pretty hard - sometimes taking eight to ten books a week to read.
At first, I think he thought I was selling them somewhere or something but I showed him that I was actually reading them. I guess he was pretty thrilled to find a kid like me who actually loved reading the way that he did because he started giving me books that weren't on the table to read - for nothing! I guess he knew about who my mother was and what she was. There wasn't much that Mr. Holloway didn't know about our neighborhood. In fact, it was about two weeks after my mother died and I was just beginning to wonder how I was going to get the money to pay the rent on the shit-hole that was at least four walls and a roof over my head, that Mr. Holloway offered me the job at the store. It wasn't much but it paid the rent, electric and had money for food. It also gave me someplace to do my homework and had the other benefit of allowing me to borrow and read any book that I wanted.
I guess I'd been working there about a month when we got this set of books into the store. All old hardbacks written by this woman named Mary Renault. When Mr. Holloway saw them, he immediately put them away, under the counter. He didn't put them out in the shelves for public view. I asked him why?
"Mary Renault is a very special writer, not palatable to all readers. You might take this one and read it and you'll see why." he said, handing me a book called THE LAST OF THE WINE.
The novel told the story of two young guys - Alexias and Lysis - who live in ancient Greece at the time of Socrates. In fact, they are students of Socrates. What was unusual about the novel is that while it was all about ancient Greece of that time and about the famous Greeks who inhabited it, it was basically a love story. The story of the love between Alexias and Lysis. I could see why Mr. Holloway felt that this was a 'special' book. It extolled the beauty of gay male love - something that not a lot of our customers would probably be interested in.
But I was! I remember I went home that night and read that book cover to cover, finally finishing it about dawn! Luckily, I didn't have school the next day but I did have work. I dragged my ass to the bookstore where Mr. Holloway took one look at me and brought me a cup of his very strong coffee!
"Stayed up all night reading, didn't you?" he smiled at me.
I nodded my head sheepishly.
"Yeah. I kind of figured you might. Finished it?" he asked.
Again I nodded.
"Well, the rest of them are under there. You can read them all. In fact, you can take them home. They're my gift to you. I think you'll appreciate them more than anyone else would." he said, traipsing on back to his apartment behind the store, leaving me alone.
I suddenly realized that Mr. Holloway must know that I'm gay! But I didn't know how! I don't 'swish' or nothing. I hate gay guys who act like girls or, worse, 'fags'. I mean, it's guys I'm attracted to! If I wanted a girl, I'd go get one! So I couldn't figure out how the fuck he knew! And I didn't have the courage to ask him until several days later when I had read more of the books.
We were going through the inventory and I finally got up the guts to say something to him.
"Uhh...Mr. Holloway...ahh...why did you think I'd like the Mary Renault books." I asked.
"I have a very good sense of what people might like to read. It comes from selling books for so many years." he said.
"Oh..." I said.
"And I was right?" he asked.
"Uhh...yeah. You were." I said.
"You see?" he smiled.
"But...well...they're..." I stuttered.
"I think the word you're searching for is 'gay'." Mr. Holloway said.
"Uhh...yeah." I said quietly.
"So what you're really asking me is how did I know that you were gay, right?" he asked.
"Well...yeah." I said.
"It is not because you are in any way effeminate, Tim. Please don't think that." he said.
"No, I don't because I know I'm not." I said.
"It was because I've watched you. You are always polite to women and girls but you don't really care all that much for them. Now, when men - particularly attractive men - come in the store, you can't seem to do enough for them! You smile and, maybe you aren't aware of this, but you sort of 'flirt' with them." he said.
"No I don't!" I exclaimed.
"Oh, not like a woman flirts! But you do tend to talk to them in ways that you don't talk to women and you tend to show your body off to them. I don't think you're even aware you're doing it." he grinned.
"No! You're kidding, right?! I don't do that...do I?" I asked, really confused now because if I was doing these things, I wasn't aware of it at all!
"Yes, I'm afraid you do. But, trust me, I don't mind at all! It seems that a lot of my male customers have been coming in much more often and buying a lot more books than they used to - before you started working for me, that is!" he grinned.
"Really?" I asked, shocked at this.
"Really. Tim, you are a very attractive boy. If I was into boys, I'd sure as hell love to be waited on by you." Mr. Holloway said. "So don't worry about it."
"Uhh...you aren't angry because I'm...well...because I'm..." I just couldn't seem to get the word out!
"Gay? No. Why would I be angry? Being gay is just like having blue eyes. You're born that way and there's nothing you can do to change it." he said.
"Shit! Most people don't see it that way!" I said.
"Perhaps, Tim, you haven't noticed but most people are pretty ignorant." he said.
"Oh! Trust me, I've noticed!" I assured him.
"Well...being 'homophobic' - that's what it's called when you hate homosexuals - is just another part of that ignorance. Why, some of the greatest men in history have preferred their own sex: Alexander the Great, Michelangelo - just to name a few." he said.
"Yeah, I saw that a couple of the books were about Alexander." I said.
"Yes, THE FIRE FROM HEAVEN and THE PERSIAN BOY. Both excellent books. I'm sure you'll enjoy them." he said.
"Okay. I'll read them next." I said.
And I did. Throughout all the books, something started to dawn on me. These guys were gay but they sure weren't wusses! Most of them were warriors. In fact, I was astounded to learn about a fighting force in ancient times called 'The Theban Band' - the most feared fighting force around - all made up of pairs of gay male lovers! The theory behind it was that no man would dishonor himself or show cowardice in front of his lover. It evidently worked because they remained undefeated - until Philip of Macedon's army under the command of his son, Alexander (who became Alexander the Great), defeated them by having to kill every one of them in battle. Alexander was so impressed by their courage that he had a monument erected over their mass grave which remains until this day.
I began to think in terms of what I wanted my life to be. I would love to be like those warriors of ancient times - strong, fearless, and in love with a warrior/companion. The romantic dreams of those books began to fill my head. But I figured that there was no way something like that could happen now. No way that I could become the warrior that I wanted to be. At least not the way I looked at things then.
I was about to graduate. I had a solid 'A-B' average and knew that I could get into college - if I had the money. I scored high enough on the SAT's but since I didn't participate in sports and I didn't have perfect grades, a scholarship was not in my future. I didn't know what I was going to do. I guess I'd continue to work for Mr. Holloway and try to save up money enough to get into the city college. At least I could afford that. I didn't know what I wanted to do - what I wanted to be, though. I still had those dreams from the books. I also had 'other' dreams.
Even though I knew I was gay, I'd never once actually 'done' anything about it. I was still a virgin except for my trusty right hand. And, God knows, that got enough exercise! I was jacking off like two to three times a day and still always horny! But there didn't seem to be any chance of me ever finding out just what it would be like to be with another guy. All I had were my fantasies.
I skipped the graduation exercises. After all, I didn't have any parents to show up and I didn't have money to waste on renting a cap and gown either. I picked up my high school diploma the next day at the front office and walked out of the school for the last time. I felt rather lost and adrift when I did. I didn't know where I was going or what I was going to do with my life. I suppose I could have gone to one of the so-called 'Guidance Counselors' but they were always busy doing 'paperwork' and I'd never heard of anybody that they'd actually helped.
I certainly wasn't going to miss high school. It was something that I had to get through, but not something that had any deep meaning for me. About the only thing I was going to miss was gym class and all the 'eye candy' in the showers. Being still only 17, I couldn't go to bars. I couldn't go to 'adult' bookstores. I couldn't go anywhere that gay males congregated to meet somebody. Even if I could - most of the guys who went to those places were way older than me and I wanted to find someone more my own age.
The only guys my own age that I knew who were actively involved in any kind of gay sex were the hustlers on the street. I knew most of them, only because I'd see them on my way from my shit-hole of an apartment to the bookstore and back. Some of them, at first, were openly hostile to me - thinking that I was 'competition'. Once they realized that I wasn't, they tended to just ignore me completely. All of them except a kid named Jack.
Jack was an older hustler - older being a 'relative' term. Jack was in his mid-20's where most of the hustlers were my age - give or take a couple of years. Jack always said hello to me if we met on the street and we even got to talking a few times. Not about anything important - just the weather and the local street gossip - but it was nice. I actually liked Jack. He was a good looking guy but he also had a nice personality - not the overbearing 'attitude' that so many of the hustlers had. Jack said to me one time that, it didn't cost anything to be nice and sometimes it paid really well. I guess that was a good way to look at it.
One night, not long after I graduated, I was walking home from the bookstore when I ran into Jack.
"Hey! What's the matter sweet cheeks? You look down, boy! Like you lost your best friend!" Jack said, clapping an arm around my shoulders.
I didn't realize that my depressed mood showed so well on my face. I did indeed feel down. I was feeling lonely and lost. My life was going nowhere and I had no friends, no love in my life at all. I had no family - at least not that I knew of - and no where to turn for comfort or caring. I always tried to put up a brave front but even that was starting to be too much effort. After all, who the fuck cared how I felt?
"Nope! Didn't lose a friend. Never had any to lose." I said quietly.
I don't know what caused me to give Jack such an honest answer. I surely didn't think that he really cared anything about me. I think he just liked having somebody to talk to at times when there was no action - nothing happening on the street - and no customers. He didn't seem to want to have much to do with his fellow hustlers and they seemed to feel the same way. Jack tended to talk to people in the neighborhood who he knew - and I was one of those.
"Yeah. I hear ya, kid." Jack said quietly. "I ain't got none either. Well, except for Wally."
Suddenly, the two of us were talking, really communicating.
"Who's Wally?" I asked.
"The old guy who runs the Greyhound bus station at night. Sometimes I spend time with him just talkin'. Smart old guy." he said.
"Really?" I asked.
"Yeah. You oughta talk to him sometime. He's got some interesting stories about when he was in the war. Viet Nam. He was a Marine. Did all kinds of shit over there. Some of it not too 'legal', if you get my drift." Jack said.
I didn't really but nodded as if I did. I didn't want Jack to think of me as stupid.
"Yeah. Old Wally's a great guy. When it gets cold, he let's me keep warm in the station. Hey! He's workin' now. Wanna go hang out for a while? I'll introduce ya!" Jack asked.
"Sure. Why not. Just goin' back to an empty crib anyway." I said.
We walked over to the Greyhound station which was only a couple of blocks away. It was one of the old ones that still had a small diner as part of it. Just a counter to sit at with about a dozen stools and about six tables. We found Wally sitting at one of the tables.
"Hey, Wally! Wantcha to meet somebody. This here's Tim. Tim, Wally." he said.
Wally reached out his hand and shook mine. Firm grip - not over powering but firm.
"Hey there, Tim. Have a seat. Hey! Vera! Two more cups and a refill over here!" Wally called to the middle-aged waitress behind the counter. "So, Tim. I hope you ain't one of Jack's compatriots."
I looked at him questioningly. Then it dawn on me what he meant.
"No. I work at Holloway's bookstore." I said.
"Old man Holloway? Fuck! I figured he'd have keeled over dead by now! Gotta be 80!" Wally grinned.
"Actually, he's only 71." I said.
"So he's got you workin' for him, huh? You must be real smart!" Wally said.
The waitress came over and brought coffee for Jack and me and refilled Wally's cup.
"Why?" I asked, not making the connection.
"Because if there's one thing that old man Holloway cannot abide it's stupid people! Gotta admit, the old guy is smarter than hell himself! So I figure if he wants you around, you must be smart, too." Wally said.
"Thanks. I only hope that's true." I said.
"So? You still in high school?" he asked.
"No. I just graduated a few weeks ago." I said.
"Where ya goin' to college?" he asked.
"I'm not. At least not right away. Don't have the money." I said.
"What about your folks? Can't they send you?" Wally asked.
I hesitated, not knowing how to answer this. Jack, luckily, took the initiative and answered for me.
"Tim was Lena's boy." Jack told Wally, mentioning my mom's name.
"Oh! Sorry about that! So you're Lena' boy! Well, I'll be! Wondered what happened to you. God, your mom used to brag about you all the time! How smart you were and what good grades you got!" Wally said. "Always said you wouldn't end up out on the streets like her."
I was shocked! I didn't know that mom was even aware of my grades! I knew that she signed my report cards, but I figured that she was too stoned when she did to even notice how well I was doing. I guess I was wrong about that!
"Yeah! Lena was sure proud of you, boy. I can see why! She always said you was a looker and you sure are! That's why I figured you might be workin' with Jack at first. Shoulda known better though, huh, Jack? He'd be real tough competition for you!" Wally laughed.
Surprisingly enough, Jack laughed, too!
"Yeah! Last fuckin' thing I need is one this cute and smart workin' out there! Got enough competition from all the little crack-heads as it is!" Jack grinned. "Nah! I figure this one for a virgin!"
I blushed a deep red which, of course, clued Wally and Jack into the fact that Jack had hit the nail right on the head.
"Hey! That's okay!" Wally said reassuringly. "With all them diseases out there today, you can't be too careful! Ain't like when I was young. Anything you got from sex then you could cure with a shot of penicillin. Now, you could die just from a fuck!"
"Bet you had lots of pussy in Viet Nam, huh, Wally?" Jack joked.
"Had more'n pussy, boy!" he grinned.
I looked at him, the shock, no doubt, showing on my face.
"Don't look so shocked, boy! I'll bet Jack's already told ya I was a Marine, right?" Wally asked.
"Yes. He did." I answered.
"Well, boy, Marines - especially young ones - are about the horniest things on earth!" Wally laughed. "Fuck anything with a hole - and any hole they can find. 'Specially when you're out in the goddamn jungle for weeks and months at a time, surrounded by VC or NVA, not knowin' if the next bullet or booby-trap is gonna take you out. Pretty soon, you figure out that you better start makin' some deals with you buddies in your squad to kinda take care of each other - in more ways than one."
At first, I thought Wally might be pullin' my leg but the look in his eyes was way to serious to mistake. He meant what he was saying.
"Well, that's a side of Marine Corps life that you don't hear much about!" I said.
"Ain't likely to, neither. Not unless you're in the Marines - or sleepin' with one." Wally said.
"It reminds me of the Theban Band." I said quietly.
I wasn't really thinking about what I was saying, my mind was so blown away by what Wally had just told me. As a young, gay male, I was of course attracted to Marines! The whole ideal of "The Few, The Proud" made for some really great jack off sessions! But I never really thought that there would be gay Marines! Or even Marines that would do anything with a gay guy but call him a 'faggot' and beat the shit out of him!
"What band?" Jack asked, looking strangely at me.
"The Theban Band, Jack. Something you would never have heard of. The equivalent of the Marine Corps in ancient Greece. Well...in fighting ability, anyway." Wally said, winking at me.
I looked at Wally in surprise! I didn't expect him to know about the Theban Band!
"Yeah, kiddo. I ain't stupid either - even if I was a Jarhead. I know military history. It's kind of a hobby of mine. How'd you learn about them?" he asked.
"I read about them in a couple of novels by a woman writer." I said.
"Mary Renault, probably. Am I right?" he asked, smiling.
Again, I was shocked but tried not to show it too badly.
"Yeah. That's right." I said.
"Yeah. I read some of her stuff. Pretty good - especially for a woman." Wally said.
"Uhh...pardon my saying this but...well...you don't particularly seem at all...well...gay to me." I said to Wally.
"I'm not, kiddo. If all the guys who got their rocks of with another guy at sometime in their life - or thought about it - were gay, there would only be about 3 straight guys in the entire world!" Wally laughed. "Actually, after Nam, I wasn't much of anything anymore."
I didn't understand at first what he meant until he pushed back from the table. I hadn't noticed it but Wally was in a wheel chair.
"Mortar got me. I was three days away from goin' home when it happened. Left me with no feelin' at all from the waist down. I was all of 20 years old when it happened." Wally said.
"I'm sorry." I said quietly.
"Why? Weren't your fault, son. Besides, my life ain't been so bad. Had buddies who came home and were so fucked up they either OD'd or blew their brains out. Me, I get a nice Veteran's pension and this lovely chrome chair!" Wally laughed.
I looked at him in amazement! To end up in a wheel-chair for almost your entire life and still be able to laugh about it. Wally was an amazing man!
Jack and I hung around a while longer but then Jack said he had to get back to "work".
"Can't let all them little crack-whores get all the business!" Jack laughed as he excused himself.
"Yeah. I better be gettin' home, too. It was really nice meeting you, Wally." I said, sticking out my hand.
Wally grabbed it in both of his.
"You come back again, Tim. You're welcome anytime I'm here." he said and I knew he meant it.
And I did go back. In fact, most nights that Wally worked, I showed up on my way home from the bookstore. I got to hear a lot of his Viet Nam stories and I also got to hear about my mom. Seems Wally knew her before I was even born. He told me how he had tried to get her off the streets but that she just couldn't listen to reason. He had watched her eventual descent into drugs and had watched as she had slowly destroyed herself. Wally, unfortunately, however, had no more idea than I did who my father had been. Just some anonymous 'john'. I doubted if my mom even knew who it was.
Between Wally and Mr. Holloway, my life wasn't so lonely anymore but I still wanted the companionship of someone my own age. And I still wanted to lose my virginity somewhere along the line! But nothing seemed to be happening on that score. That is, until one night.
I remember it like it was yesterday. It was winter, deep winter. The middle of January. The holidays were past and now came the coldest days of the year. Luckily, in my building, my shit- hole of an apartment was just about the warmest one in the building. I never went to bed cold. In fact, I often had to crack a window open because the heat became too oppressive.
A blizzard with deep snow had fallen over the city and just about everything was stopped. I had to walk through drifts that were several feet high and blasts of snow to get to the Greyhound station that night to see Wally. I almost didn't go, thinking I was better off just going home to my nice warm apartment, but just something made me head there anyway. Wally was sitting in the restaurant as usual and, when she saw me walk in, Vera, the waitress, brought over another cup of coffee before I could even reach Wally's table. The station was all but deserted.
"What's up?" I asked Wally, looking around.
"Buses are having trouble getting through. The bus out of Detroit is over four hours late and the one out of Jacksonville is over ten hours late. I'm afraid there's gonna be a lot of stranded folks tonight." Wally said.
"That's too bad. Glad I've at least got a warm apartment to go home to tonight." I said.
"Speaking of which, Tim, I wondered if I could ask a favor of you?" Wally said.
"Sure! Of course you can!" I said.
Wally and I had become good friends. I'd do anything for him.
"Well...you see, there's a young Marine who's been stranded on his way back to base. Sure, he could stay here in the terminal, but these benches are awful hard to sleep on. He's been traveling on a bus for two days. I kinda wondered if you wouldn't mind puttin' him up for a night." Wally asked.
"Well...uhh...sure...I guess I could do that." I said hesitantly.
"Look, I understand if you don't want to..." Wally said, noticing my hesitancy.
"No! It's not that!" I hastened to correct him. "But...well...you know about me."
"Yeah. I do. And I don't think that will be any problem whatever, Tim. If I did, I wouldn't have suggested this." Wally smiled.
"Well...if you think it won't be a problem, I'd be glad to put him up for the night." I said.
"Good! Lemme get him over here so you can meet him." he said and then turned to the waitress. "Hey, Vera. You see where that young Marine got himself off to?"
"Yeah, Sweetie. He's over there by the lockers, curled up on one of the benches." Vera said.
"Why don't you go over and wake him up and bring him over here for me. Please?" Wally asked.
"Sure, hon." Vera said.
Vera called all males either 'Honey', 'Hon' or 'Sweetie'.
Vera walked over to the bench and leaned over, putting her arm out. Because the back of the bench was between us, I couldn't see what it was she did, but the shaking of her arm told me that she was waking someone up. Suddenly above the top of the bench, a head and shoulder popped up. From behind, I could see that his hair was blond...well...what little there was of it. His hair was cut in a Marine 'high and tight' so that there was very little hair at all. Broad shoulders and a thick neck told me this was a male with a very developed body.
When he stood up, he dwarfed Vera. I estimated he was either 6' 2" or maybe even 6' 4", I couldn't be sure from the distance. I could see that I was right about his body though! The broad back which I could see tapered down to a trim waist and flared out into an absolutely magnificent male ass! I couldn't see his face, but I prayed that despite the magnificent body that he was uglier than all hell! I didn't think I could take it if he was beautiful as well!
Vera and he were talking and she pointed behind him to where Wally and I sat. He turned, and I knew immediately that God was not listening to my prayer! His beautiful, sparkling eyes, the long, straight nose, the full lips, the slight cleft in the chin - they all combined to make him beautiful beyond any fantasy I'd ever held! I didn't know what to do! I wanted to run away as fast as I could and I wanted to run right into his muscular arms.
He walked towards us. His walk was confident and almost swaggering. This was a man! Not much past my own age, but a 'man' nonetheless. His uniform clung to his body like a second skin showing off what had to be incredible muscular development and bulk beneath. He came to the table and, without even thinking about it, I stood.
Now I could see that those beautiful eyes were the deepest blue and when he looked at me, he gave me a smile that was almost blinding in its intensity. He reached out his hand and I couldn't help but notice how large it was. I hesitantly put out my own and it was dwarfed by his. His grip was strong but not crushing. He certainly had nothing to prove in the masculinity department - at least, not to me.
"Corporal Erik Meiers. Nice to meet you." he said, his voice a deep baritone that went through me, rattling my spine.
"Uhh...Tim Vincent...it's...uhh...nice to meet you, too." I stumbled, my mouth just refusing to work!
"Sit down, guys." Wally said and then called out. "Vera! Please get us more coffee."
We both sat down with Erik sitting next to me. I could feel the heat from his body and could smell his scent. He'd been traveling and I figured he hadn't had a chance to take a shower that day but the sweat and musk of him was making my jeans very tight and uncomfortable in my groin! Oh, great! Just what I needed! Here was a walking, talking wet-dream and I couldn't keep my cock under control! How the fuck was I going to spend the night around him? I was having some strong second thoughts about all of this! After all, what if he figured out how hot I was for him? I knew that Wally said he was okay but I was still scared. After all - this was a fucking Marine! These guys were trained to kill!
"So Eric, like I told you, there aren't going to be any buses through tonight and with the weather still threatening more snow so there may not be any out tomorrow either. Tim is my friend and has offered to let you spend the night with him." Wally said.
"Thanks, man!" Erik said to me, giving me another of his brilliant smiles. "I'm really grateful for this! I hate the thought of sleepin' on one of those benches all night."
He stretched his muscles to unstiffen them from having been laying on one of those benches already and just the sight of this young male animal stretching like a leopard sent my blood pressure into the stratosphere! Oh, fuck! Could I do this? Could I spend the night with him and not make a fucking fool out of myself? I didn't think so but, at the same time, I couldn't turn down the chance to spend more time with him - especially alone!
"I'll warn you, my place isn't much but it is warm." I said apologetically.
"Hey, guy! No problem! I live in barracks. Trust me - anything's better!" he laughed.
His laugh was deep and masculine, just like everything else about him. The sound of it filled me and I felt thrills run through me.
"Anything else I can do to help, you just let me know." Wally said to Erik.
"You've done enough already!" Erik assured Wally.
"Nonsense! Anything I can do to help out a Marine in need - I wanna do!" Wally smiled.
"I don't know how to thank you for this." Erik said, quietly.
"No problem!" Wally said. "Besides, it's Tim here that's really the one coming to the rescue."
Wally grinned at me.
"I'm glad to do it. Be nice to have some company for a night." I said shyly. "I spend a lot of time alone so it will really be a treat for me."
And more of a treat to have someone so fucking gorgeous and male, I wanted to add but didn't. But I sure thought it!
"Thanks. I just hope I'm not in the way." Erik said to me, smiling.
"No way! I am really glad to have you. Why don't we head out before this snow gets any worse. I'll fix dinner for us." I said.
"Cool! Just let me get my stuff." Erik said and then he went back to the benches and grabbed this large green duffle bag and a heavy green coat.
He slipped on the coat and threw the duffle over his shoulder. I walked over and joined him.
"You ready? That's all your stuff?" I asked.
"Yeah. Marines travel light." he laughed.
We walked through the heavily falling snow, just making small talk. My apartment was only a couple of blocks from the Greyhound station and, despite the high snow drifts, we reached it fairly quickly. Since my mom died, I'd made some changes in the apartment. I'd gotten rid of all her clothes and stuff and had moved into the larger of the two bedrooms which used to be hers. That was partially because it made me feel somehow closer to her now that she was gone and because it was a much larger room than mine and had a large, queen-sized bed where I only had a single. I'd moved my clothes and stuff into the large bedroom and pushed my twin bed up against one of the walls, covering it with a bed-spread and adding a bunch of pillows I bought cheap to kind of make it into a couch. I'd gotten boards and bricks and built shelves around the walls of the room which were now mostly filled with books and CD's. I had a boom-box in the room that I could listen to them on.
"Welcome to my home, such as it is." I said as I unlocked the door.
I entered and Erik followed. He stood there for a moment, looking around the room and then dropped his duffle bag to the floor.
"Nice place." he said but I figured he was just being polite.
Looking around, I could see that all the furniture was old - most of it coming from Goodwill or Salvation Army or even stuff I'd gotten off the street that people were throwing out. All of it was still serviceable but nothing fancy.
"Where do you want me to put this?" Erik asked.
"Why don't you put it in the den?" I said and led him to what used to be my bedroom where he put the duffle on what used to be my bed.
"I see you like to read!" he said.
"Yeah. I do. I work in a used bookstore so I get a lot of books free. Mr. Holloway gives me stuff all the time." I said.
Erik walked over to the bookcase and he looked at some of the titles.
"I see you like Mary Renault." he said, smiling at me.
"Uhh...yeah...Mr. Holloway introduced me to her books." I said quietly, wondering if Erik knew what it was that she wrote about.
"Yeah, I've read a lot of her books. I loved THE LAST OF THE WINE and THE PERSIAN BOY." he said.
Oh, my God! He DID know about her! Those were two very openly homoerotic books of hers!
"Uhh...yeah...they were my favorites, too." I said quietly.
He looked at me and smiled again. Something passed between us in that moment but I was too afraid to try and figure out what it was. Instead, I changed the subject of the conversation entirely.
"Are you hungry?" I asked.
"Starved." he admitted with a smile.
"Then I'll go start dinner." I said.
"Can I help?" he asked.
"You can come and keep me company if you want." I said quietly.
"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot." he said quietly and looking at me in a way that sent thrills through me!
"Would you like a beer?" I asked as we walked into the kitchen.
"Sure, if you've got one." Erik said, sitting down at the kitchen table.
That table I'd gotten when someone moved out downstairs and left it and three chairs. Since I almost never had company, three chairs were quite enough for me. I reached into the refrigerator and handed Erik a long-neck bottle of Budweiser. While I wasn't old enough to buy beer, Jack would buy it for me as he was well over 21.
"So you live here alone?" Erik asked.
"Yeah. Ever since my mom died. That was almost a year ago now." I said.
"I'm sorry. How did she die?" he asked.
"Heroin overdose. She was a junkie." I said matter-of-factly and then added more quietly. "And a hooker."
Erik looked at me somewhat startled.
"I'm really sorry, Tim. I wouldn't have brought it up if I'd known." Erik said and I could hear what I figured to be embarrassment in his voice.
"Don't be." I said. "She's in a better place now. Someplace where she doesn't have to turn tricks to keep food on the table and her son clothed and fed. I'm doing okay. I guess." I said trying hard, suddenly, to fight back tears.
It had been a long times since I cried over mom. I didn't know why I was now but, all of a sudden, I was standing there at the kitchen counter, my back to Erik, and I was crying my eyes out. I didn't hear the chair scrape on the floor or the heavy foot treads but what I did sense was the warmth and strength as Erik stood behind me, his body pressed to mine and his strong hands gripping my shoulders. He slowly turned me and I looked up at him, tears streaming down my face.
"It's okay, buddy. Just let it out." he said gently.
His arms stayed around me and drew me closer to him as one of his hands gently pushed my head until it was resting on his muscular chest. Without thinking, my arms went around his slender waist and I held onto him as the tears poured from me, wetting the front of his uniform. Despite my not being able to get myself under control, part of what was effecting me was the feel of his masculine, hard body and the strong scent of him. I had to admit that I love the scent of a male. I love the sweat and musk that guys give off, especially when they haven't showered all day. I had loved the smell of all the hot, young males in the locker room after gym class before everybody showered. It used to be very difficult for me to keep from getting 'boned' over it. Now, with my nose shoved into his body, his scent strongly surrounding me and my emotions already out of control, I felt myself boned to the max in moments! I only prayed that he didn't feel it, too!
He must have felt it, however, because I suddenly realized that my cock was pressing against him but that I could feel an equal hardness - not my own - pressing against me! He had a hardon, too! At first I couldn't figure this out. Why was he hard? Surely it couldn't be...No Way! No way that Erik - strong, masculine, Marine! - could be attracted to me! But there we were, our arms around each other and our hard cocks pressed to each other's bodies.
I didn't know what the fuck to do! I'd never been with a guy before! Not that I didn't want to - not that I wasn't fucking dying to be - but I'd never had the chance before! This was the closest I'd ever been to another male's body when it wasn't some type of athletic event. I just stood there, gradually getting myself under partial control again. I'd at least stopped crying but I still was as hard as steel and so was Erik. He could tell I had stopped crying but he didn't seem to be all that eager to let go of me. As for my part, just being in his arms was the most wonderful thing I'd ever known in my life! If I died right that moment, I didn't think I could ever be happier!
But I didn't die and gradually, I felt, to my disappointment, Erik's arms begin to loosen around me and he finally let me go. I followed his lead and let go of him. He stepped back and looked at me, a sweet, sad smile on his face.
"You okay now?" he asked quietly.
I nodded my head, blushing furiously in embarrassment, though more from my erect cock than my watershed of tears. I swiped the tears from my eyes with my hand and reached behind me for a paper towel and blew my nose.
"I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that. I haven't cried since she died." I said quietly, turning back to the kitchen counter so I didn't have to look at him.
"Hey, it's okay. If my mom died, I'd cry, too." he said.
I began to busy myself with getting dinner ready. I pulled some hamburger out of the refrigerator and started chopping up onions, green peppers and mushrooms. I was going to make Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes. I had some fresh broccoli that I'd steam and just serve with butter. I took some dinner rolls out and put them in oven to heat.
"You seem like you're quite a cook! I don't think I could even boil water with a recipe!" Erik laughed.
"Well...I kinda had to learn out of self-defense. Mom was gone a lot or later she would be too out of it. I needed to be able to feed myself - and her a lot of times." I said.
"So what are you gonna do now? With your life, I mean." Erik asked.
"I don't know. I want to go to college but I can't afford it. I suppose I could try to get loans or grants but I'm not old enough to apply for them." I said.
"Why? How old are you?" he asked, surprise in his voice.
"I'm 17. I'll be 18 in a couple of months." I said.
"Oh, fuck!" he laughed. "Jail bait!"
I blushed furiously. I hadn't even thought of that!
"I figured you for at least 18!" Erik said. "I mean, you live on your own, you seem to be quite self-sufficient. I just thought that you were. Hey, wait a minute! If you're only 17, how do you buy beer?" he asked.
"Oh, that...my friend Jack buys it for me." I said. "He's like 24."
"Jack, huh? Is this a 'good' friend?" he asked grinning.
"Uhh...no...not really...uhh...Jack is...well...Jack is a hustler. He knew my mom from workin' the streets. I see him around a lot and we sit and talk sometimes when he's not...ahh... 'busy', you know? He's the one who introduced me to Wally." I said.
"Oh." Erik replied. "I take it you never thought about...uhh...well, going into the profession?"
"No! I don't want to end up on drugs like my mom! Besides, I don't want some old guy touching me!" I said vehemently.
"I can understand that. Very intelligent decision on your part. But, tell me something, what do you think of as 'old'?" he grinned.
I blushed furiously, realizing that I'd just kind of admitted that I would let a younger guy touch me.
"I guess over 30." I said.
He got up from his chair and walked over to me. I had turned to face him and now he moved so that his body was pressed against mine and I was shoved up against the kitchen counter. He looked down into my eyes as his hands came up and held my face.
"I'm 22." he said softly and then his face came down on mine and he gently kissed me.
The End of Part 1 of RECRUITED FOR THE CORPS
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