Just a dumb fuck

The Inquisition

We jogged back to the accommodation block and slipped in up the back stairs to our dorm room on the second floor, avoiding the duty senior who would have been at the main entrance round the front. They frown on us wearing our gym kit around the block and we didn’t want to get into an explanation as to why we couldn’t shower and change back into proper clothes at the gym. A demerit each would have been the least of our worries. As it was, Nathan’s jaw dropped when he saw me come into the room like that and still stinking of sweat but when he saw Shane and Travis dressed the same way he held back from saying anything for a moment whilst his brain processed what he was seeing. He knew they knew better…

I was puzzled too. Will and Noah were also in the room, sat on their beds, Noah sketching in his book as usual and Will listening to something on his headphones. They were all changed into smart casual ready for dinner, which would be in about half an hour’s time. Both looked up, acknowledged our arrival with a smile and a nod, then went back to what they were doing. Given that Noah was there, I’d expected Will and Nathan already to know all about what had happened at the gym. Well, not all of it, but the stuff about the fight in the ring anyway.

“Well,” barked Nathan as he found the trigger to switch from ‘nice Nathan’ to ‘evil Corporal’, “I’m assuming there’s a good explanation for this. You know the rules about improper attire. Especially you two!” Travis glanced at Noah and decided that a response was clearly best left in Shane’s hands. The ripples from the gym clearly hadn’t propagated this far. Yet.

Shane beamed his smile and dropped my bag on my bed. Just sometimes, it’s handy berthing right by the door, even if you are a magnet for anything incoming. “Sorry Nat, but we had a bit of a problem. Can I just send Noah back to the gym to get our bags too? Me and Travis left ours behind.”

I think only Shane could have got away with staying in off-duty mode and calling Nathan by his name rather than addressing him as Corporal under those circumstances. Nathan exchanged glances with him and clearly sensed that there was a story behind this: he relaxed a little whilst he considered giving us enough of the benefit of the doubt to at least hear the opening excuse.

“Go Noah, bring them their bags from the gym.”

Noah just smiled, closed his sketchbook, put it tidily in his bedside cabinet and squeezed past us and out into the corridor. He’s an odd kid at times. Well all the bloody time actually. Doesn’t say much. Don’t get me wrong, he’s friendly in a weird sort of way but you can’t hold a conversation with him. Ask him what he’s doing and he’ll say ‘reading’. Ask him what he’s reading and he’ll say ‘my book’. It’s like a game of twenty questions to get anything useful out of him at all. I’ve no idea what he was doing at the gym either, it just doesn’t seem his thing.

“Well?” Nathan was still hovering on the brink but that was a good sign. Just “Well?”, not “Well, Cadet?”  “Well, Cadet?” would mean he’d already made his mind up, decided on the punishment and whatever facts subsequently presented themselves were not going to sway him away from that.

Will was taking his headphones off now, sensing alternative entertainment. He decided to stir the pot a little. “You three stink.”

Shane jumped on the opportunity. “Can this wait, Nat? Will’s right. We need to go freshen up. We’ll be quick. Then we can explain it all.” 

“Be fast!”

We didn’t need a second warning. We grabbed towels and soap from our lockers and were off down the corridor to the washroom before Nathan could change his mind. Shane had pulled it off again.

With it being Sunday evening, and before dinner at that, the washroom was empty. Shane and Travis were just a little quicker at stripping off and getting under the showers than me – well they hadn’t just been dancing with Godzilla had they – and that also had the advantage that when I got in there the water was already flowing hot.

Travis glanced up as I stepped round the corner from the bench on which I’d arranged my vest, shorts, socks and trainers, slowly looked me up and down. “Bloody hell, Boots.” Yes, he’s getting pretty good at mocking my accent now.

Shane turned around to face me too and a grimace flickered across his face briefly before he stifled it. For a moment the two of them just stood and stared, then Travis broke the awkward silence as I stepped forward into the gap between them.

“He wasn’t holding back was he?”

I tried a smile. “Oh, these little things?” I said as nonchalantly as I could, looking down at the red welts and ugly bruises that were plastered all over my ribs and stomach. “Just minor flesh wounds. They feel far worse than they look…” Shane laughed right away but there was moment’s hesitation whilst Travis processed what I’d said. That’s the thing with these farm boys. Takes a while but they get there in the end.

“No, Jackson wasn’t holding back,” I smirked, “but I had him at the end. If Coach hadn’t stepped in…”

All three of us burst out laughing. We knew what would really have happened if the Coach hadn’t stepped in but the point was that he had stepped in, and so that gave some leeway. Just enough room for the story that was now being retold in every dorm to grow its own ambiguities. “Gotta say it, that Limey kid soaked up some mean punches and was starting to throw them back… bloodied Jackson’s nose.”

The hot water was exactly what I needed and I began to relax, letting the jets drill down into me, taking the edge off some of the aches and pains. Travis was right, Jackson hadn’t been holding back. Not when he unleashed those left-right-left combinations into my sides, not when he was humping away at his mate’s arse either. He was going at him like a jack-hammer with that big dick of his. Jesus! How come the other guy could take it like that? He sounded like he was loving it. If somebody fucked my arse I’d be squealing like a girlie!

“Boots, really?”

It was Travis, snapping me out of my thoughts. Both him and Shane were now stood there, smirking like schoolgirls. Shane was first off the mark with a smart remark as usual. “I wasn’t joking when I said he pushed me out of bed and didn’t need to use his arms to do it…” Both of them were looking at me, down at my cock, back up at me.

“What is it with you and boners, bud?” asked Travis, “At times, you’re nearly as big a dick as Jackson, in very sense of the word.” To be fair, that wasn’t a bad put down from a turnip. The light hearted way they took it was a relief, but internally I was crawling with embarrassment. Why was it that lately it seemed whenever I looked at a guy I was getting turned on by it? Well, not me, obviously! I’m not turned on. Just my dick! I swear it’s got a mind of its own.

Shane was looking at me with his smile and blue eyes, his wet curls hanging down over his forehead. You know, if they gave him a Latin species name, it would be something like canus amicus, the friendly dog. Travis, well, he’d be ursus robustus, strong bear. Hey, those would actually make great Indian names for them too. Strong Bear and Friendly Dog.

Shane and Travis were still looking at me, exchanging glances. I was looking back at them. At the water cascading down over their smooth bodies. Trickling down their chests, dripping from their soft cocks. Travis was pretty well muscled for his age and building bulk every day in the gym, Shane was leaner and toned, definitely a family resemblance to Kyle. In a few years’ time he’d have the same awesome footballer’s body. Travis had a fuzz of bright ginger hair round his cock too, really contrasting with his pale, creamy skin. Shane didn’t look to have any hair down there at all yet. I was acutely aware I needed to say something, to break what was becoming an awkward silence, to reply to Travis’s smartarse ‘big dick’ comment.

“If you’ve got it, bud, flaunt it. Somebody has to make up for your lack of manhood. Both of you…”

Well, that was cruel and unfair and definitely out of place, especially given that Travis had the biggest balls of anybody I could think of the way he was fronting up to Jackson back there in the changing room. But that’s what mates do isn’t it? Wind each other up. Say the stuff to each other nobody else would get away with. Fraternal urinary extraction. It’s part of the job spec.

They both started laughing like drains, and I was laughing with them, so much so that I didn’t see the warning glint in Travis’s eye as he flicked out his hand and gave my erect dick a hard slap, causing it to bounce off my stomach with an almost equally resounding slap.

“Ouch ! That hurt!” I gasped, still laughing.

“It was meant to, Deefer.”

“Deefer?” asked Shane, quizzically.

“Yeah, D fer Dumb Fuck.”

I knew right away that ‘Boots’ had outlived its utility in Travis’s dictionary. He had a new name for me now, and I had a feeling that this one was going to stick. And to be truthful, I don’t mind. He can call me what he wants. He’s earned the right.

We rinsed off the soap and climbed out of the showers, continually exchanging jokes and insults in equal measure as we dried and wrapped our towels around our waists. Temporarily everything was good in our little world. Even my dick had gone soft at last. I was as clean as a squeak and smelling really fresh too after borrowing some of Shane’s shower gel.

We grabbed up our gym clothes and padded back down the corridor to the dorm leaving a trail of wet footprints behind us. We’d been larking about in the showers quite some time, with a bit of luck Nathan and the guys would have gone to dinner by now. 

* * *

The dorm wasn’t empty. Will and Noah were still at their bedspaces, but a couple of guys from one of the other dorms were also crowded round Will, guys I’d seen him hanging around with before. On any other day I’d say they had probably just called by to go with him to dinner but the conspiratorial way they all looked up as we entered suggested that this being Will’s dorm was just a very convenient excuse to be here. At the far end of the room were Kyle and a couple of other Cadet Officers, seated in the comfy chairs that Kyle had near his bed, and Nathan was with them too. Because there are only seven of us in this dorm rather than the standard eight, the spare bedspace has been replaced by a few extra chairs for Kyle, along with a bigger desk. Gives him more space and somewhere for visitors to sit. As far as I know, Kyle is the only Cadet Officer running a dorm – all the others are run by selected Cadet Sergeants, who are all third years. Cadet Officers, the seniors, live on the top floor, “Heaven”, and only share two to a room. I’ve not been up there but they say the rooms are pretty luxurious compared with ours.

The two Cadet Officers finished whatever they were saying with Kyle and stood to leave. Nathan stood too until they concluded their goodbyes to Kyle and left. Nathan wasn’t standing to attention, but being respectful just the same. He remained standing even after the door closed. Will’s two friends were busy looking at me, Travis and Shane. Well, me mostly. With just a towel wrapped round my waist the bruises were pretty clear to see. Kyle turned to Will’s  friends.

“That fish pie tonight smells particularly good. I’d hate for it all to be gone when you get there.”

That subtle hint, plus Nathan still standing and looking down at them like he was going to rip their heads off if they didn’t take the hint, worked and they too made for the door. Will stayed put on his bed, calculating that the dining invitation was probably one he could pass up tonight. With the dorm now empty of guests Nathan relaxed a little and took one of the chairs near Kyle, turned it around to face us and sat down. Travis and Shane were back at their bed spaces, making a show of innocently towelling off any last remaining water and opening their cupboards to get out some clothes to dress for dinner. It was Nathan who spoke first as Kyle leaned back in his chair.

“So, gentlemen, I believe you were about to explain why you came back from the gym without showering and changing first”. They don’t seem to plan it, but they are bloody good at the ‘good cop, bad cop’ routine. Kyle sets the rules and Nathan enforces them. He’s seen my bruises, but not batted an eyelid. Just picked up exactly where he left off. I’m sure they all have a pretty good idea now of what happened in the ring, it’s written on their faces. Anybody else would have been asking about that but not Nathan. He’s meticulously maintaining his original track, not letting anything slip him by. It’s not that he isn’t interested. Whatever happened in the ring has been logged and temporarily set aside until his original task has been fulfilled, then he’ll come back with a new investigation. First things first. We’d broken the rules and he wanted to know why.

“We were in a rush, Nathan.” I said.

That clearly wasn’t enough. He didn’t need to say more. His silence was compelling me to carry on speaking.

“I got a bit of bruising in the boxing ring – look you can see that.” I twisted to show both my sides as if I thought he hadn’t noticed that I was turning into a purple panda. “So, we asked Noah to go and get me some ice and came straight back here. Ice is good to keep the swelling down. Did you get the ice, Noah?”

Noah looked up from his sketching. “Yes, I got the ice.”

Nathan wasn’t saying anything, just looking right at me.

“Noah, where’s the ice?” I enquired, keen to guide Nathan down the diversionary track I was trying to steer.

“It’s on your bed, Craig.”

I glanced over to my bed. Right under my sports bag, still lying where Shane had dropped it over half an hour ago, was a spreading wet patch. I lifted my bag and found a split plastic bag, now only part full of ice. My bed was soaked again. How could Noah be so dumb? Just what planet did he live on? Why couldn’t he put the bag of ice somewhere sensible? Why was the little runt just sitting there smiling, sketching still, as though he hadn’t a concern in the world? And why isn’t Nathan ripping Noah’s head off for being such a complete dillock? Leaving ice on my bloody bed…

“Just not your day is it, Boots?” Nathan was laughing. Even he had seen the funny side. “Swatted off the windscreen of a passing truck like a ladybug and then having to share with Shane again.”

“Hey, I’m not sleeping with him again, somebody else can do it, I’ve already taken one for the team!” Shane was laughing too.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t fancy Deefer either,” added Travis in mock indignation. “Will, move over…”

Kyle was smiling too. The Inquisition was over, at least for now. “Do those bruises hurt as much they look, Boots?” Yes, Kyle and Nathan knew. If my new nickname had made it this far then so had the rest of the story. Well, the middle bit anyways. The bit for public consumption. If we played it right the rest would remain under wraps. Shane, now having got his hair dried and trousers on, wandered over to my bed and picked up the remnants of the bag of ice. He held it at arm’s length, still dripping over my bed, and turned to face Noah.

“Noah…”

Noah paused his pencil, smiled up at Shane like an adoring puppy, then went back to his drawing. For some reason I didn’t want to hit him anymore. He’s just immune to reality.

Kyle was out of his seat now and rummaging through the shelves in his wardrobe, obviously intent on finding something. “Nat, write Noah a meal chit in my name. Those that want food now, go and get dinner in the dining room. Anybody who wants to stay here and have a dorm meal, I’ll sanction it. Noah will bring us some burgers and fries back after he’s eaten. Boots is dining at home tonight with me and Nathan.”

Travis paused buttoning up his shirt. “Kyle, suppose I go to dinner and…”

Kyle turned and looked at Travis in bemusement. “Travis, if you can manage burgers as well as a double helping of fish pie, then fine. Just make sure you help Noah carry them back.” As quick as Nathan could write a note and get Kyle to sign it, Shane and Travis had dressed and were shooting out the door with Will and Noah. It was a rare privilege to be allowed to bring an evening meal back to the room and they weren’t going to miss out. Equally importantly, they wanted to be seen collecting their dorm meal by everyone else. A privilege is worth twice as much when you can parade it. I was finished drying and looking at the remnants of the ice which Shane had now placed in the fruit bowl he’d emptied out for it. In all honesty all I wanted to do was get my pyjamas on, crawl into bed and rest. Which was now going to be a problem once more.

“This is what you need,“ said Kyle as he finally found what he was looking for amongst his sports kit. “Latest research suggests ice isn’t always the best thing for bruising. Sure, it slows down the tissue bleeds that create the swelling and colouration but it also prolongs muscle stiffness. We use heat packs now in the football team. Doesn’t do anything to stop the initial bleed but it feels soothing and keeps the muscles supple. Your call. Ice or heat?”

Nathan, who was still with us, offered a suggestion. “Maybe we should experiment. Use him as a lab rat. One side heat, one side ice. See if he freezes or fries.” He was joking, but sometimes it’s hard to tell with Nathan.

“This’ll help too,” continued Kyle. “Analgesic muscle rub. Deaden the aches a little. Come on Boots, put a fresh towel on your bed and lie down.” I did as I was told, putting a dry towel on the bed and then lying down on my back as Kyle pulled up a chair to one side.

“Shall I hold him down, we don’t him hitting the ceiling when you apply the pack…?” suggested Nathan.

“No, just smash him over the head with the fruit bowl and knock him out cold. It’s for the best”

They were joking, that’s what mates do. It’s way better than sympathy. Plotting your revenge against them helps take your mind off whatever the original problem was.

Kyle ran his hands lightly down both my sides, gently pressing against each rib. It didn’t hurt too badly.

“Nothing broken,” he announced,” you’d have hit the ceiling if there was. Trust me, I know. I’ve had a couple of fractured ribs. This might sting a bit though.” I swear he was enjoying it!

It did sting a little as he squeezed some of the muscle rub onto his fingers and then rubbed it into my bruises but I wasn’t going to let him see that and the painkilling effect soon began to work. It felt oddly relaxing as he gently continued to massage the gel into my ribs. So relaxing that I was caught a little by surprise when he suddenly asked, quietly and matter-of-factly, “Did all this happen in the ring?”

He stopped rubbing and just sat there, looking intently at me. Nathan was looking too. Calm and not pressuring, but both definitely intent on an answer.

“It’s just that there’s a rumour going round that Jackson got even with you afterwards for showing him up.”

Kyle fell silent, gazing straight into my eyes and Nathan continued. “If this all happened in the ring Boots, it’s one thing. Not necessarily right, but not a major thing either. There are ways to deal with it. But if Jackson did come looking for you afterwards then that isn’t something we can ignore. Even if you want to forget it.”

I really did feel as though I could trust them, Nathan just as much as Kyle. But there were some things I didn’t feel able to say, and Jackson hadn’t done anything to us after the fight. We’d not given him the chance.

“No, it’s all a fair fight, we just got carried away a little bit in the ring. Coach stopped it.”

“Are you sure, Boots? Is that the way you want it? There are others looking out for you, not just the guys in here. You made a good impression at Muster today you know. Your demeanour was commented on. If you need help, you can ask. You don’t have to fight alone.”

There’s something about Kyle’s eyes. His whole face. He just looks so, well, I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. I don’t think I have ever really met anyone quite like him before.

Kyle relaxed a little and drew back. “Okay, if that’s the way you say it was, that’s the we say way it was. Story over. Now, get your pyjamas on. Food will be here soon. Nathan, turn his dressing gown inside out.”

As I popped my pyjamas on, Nathan took my dressing gown from my wardrobe and turned it inside out. Kyle took a pair of heat packs out of their box, scrunched them up to activate the chemicals that react and get warm, then dropped one inside each of my gown pockets – which were now inside it of course. Nathan held the gown out for me like he was my tailor or something and helped me slip it on, the warmth from the chemical packs close to my body as I wrapped it up close around me and tied the belt.  It felt really warm and snug as I sat in one of Kyle’s armchairs, Nathan in the other one by my side. As Kyle started putting the gel and the box of heat packs back in his wardrobe, Nathan cast me a sly glance and slipped a hip flask from his jacket pocket, unscrewed the cap and passed it to me. I snatched it quickly and took a quick gulp, just about managed to pass it back to Nathan before the fireball exploded in my throat and caused me to cough and gasp. I’ve tasted whisky before, my dad very occasionally let me have a small sip or two when he had some, but this stuff was mean. I’m no expert but what Nathan had tasted like it was drained from the battery tray of an old truck. Nathan took a quick sip for himself and screwed the cap on before slipping it back into his jacket. For the second time that night, Kyle was looking on in bemusement. “Hasn’t he suffered enough today Nat, without you trying to poison him with moonshine too?”

It might have tasted rough, but it certainly had a welcome effect, seeming to warm me up from the inside whilst the heat packs toasted me from the outside. I felt I could ask Nathan a question that had been bothering me ever since we got back from the gym.

“Nathan,” I asked, “when we came back from the gym, Noah was already here with the ice, yet you honestly didn’t know about me and Jackson sparring? He didn’t tell you or Will?”

Nathan and exchanged a quick look with Kyle, seemed to see the response he needed, then replied. “No, why would he? We didn’t ask him.”

* * *

I slept in Shane’s bed again that night. On my own. Kyle said it really wasn’t practical to share with anyone because two of us scrunched up in one small bed would just have aggravated me. When the guys came back from their dinner, carrying a pile of boxed up burgers and fries for us all, Kyle suggested Shane give up his bed to me and share with Travis for the night. He was okay with that, but did say If it happened again I had to start paying him rent on it. I chuckled a bit when I wondered if the phrase ‘rent boys’ means the same thing here in the States as it does back home but didn’t try to explain it to the guys when they looked at me. I’m thinking maybe that for my next English assignment I’ll have to write a translation book, converting American into English so they don’t keep getting it wrong. I don’t know why I have to go to English classes anyway, it’s not like it’s something I don’t know. There’s plenty better things I could be doing than having to write essays on Whitman’s “O Captain! my Captain!” or the symbolism  employed by Mark Twain, though to be fair he did have a good way with words. “I have never let my schooling interfere with my education.” That was a good one.

I only had a few token fries and then turned in early for the night, leaving the others to chat and demolish the burgers. The swig of paintstripper Nathan had given me probably had something to do with it but I was soon nodding off, falling into that kind of half wakeful, half dreaming state where you sort of know what’s going on, can hear stuff but not really hear stuff. I just knew that Shane’s bed was really comfortable and that I could still smell him in it, a weird musky but citrusy smell, kind of like ginger and warm oranges. I guess it was the shower gel he uses. And another thought was flitting through my mind too. I tried to get rid of it but every time I shooed it away it crept back. I didn’t know why I was thinking it. I didn’t want to think it but I just couldn’t get the image of Jackson out of my mind. The image of him in the ring. His power. His presence. The sight of him just stood there, naked, exuding threat when he confronted us in the changing room. The sight of him fucking that guy’s arse. Really nailing him. And every time the sound of Kyle’s voice drifted over to me, I was thinking about him, wondering if he had sex like Jackson did.