Rob would call six times in a row some days. I would be standing in formation, as call after call assaulted my phone. I would feel the ringer vibrate as the trumpets blared across post and the great Red, White, and Blue herself was being put to rest.
In a strange way, it felt good to be needed. Sometimes I wondered if this was his way of telling me he was thinking of me. Or maybe he was pulling a prank on me, trying to get my phone to ring as we saluted the flag, so someone would inevitably make me do pushups.
Whatever the motive, I would stand there fantasizing. Maybe he couldn't wait to see me. Maybe he wanted to go the gym. Maybe he wanted to wrestle. Maybe he wanted to go for another shirtless run along the beach. Then maybe he'd want to shower together, only this time alone in his room, instead of at the on post gym where I could be fired (perhaps out of a canon) for expressing too much interest in him.
Sometimes I'd even get hard, pretending for a moment that Rob was imagining me with my phone against my dick, and every time he hit call, a wave of excitement hit us both. And as the American Flag made her graceful retreat, and the last trumpet notes echoed across Fort Bragg, we would climax together.
By the time we were dismissed, I'd be giddy with excitement, my 19 year old body ready for whatever Rob wished to inflict on it. I'd run just far enough away from my comrades, dial him back and whisper, "you needed something?"
"Hey bud, could you drive me to the mall? There's a new Metal Gear Solid I wanna pick up. I'll buy you some McDonalds on the way home."
Of course I'd say yes, as my brain and balls faded into blue. Rob was dependent on me, but not in the way I wished he was. That night I'd drive him to the mall, we'd eat fries in a parking lot and I'd listen to him tell self aggrandizing lies about how great his Battalion was compared to mine, and how much everyone loved him there. Then we'd retreat to his barracks and I'd fall asleep on his bed, watching him shoot digital people with digital guns.