My Straight Bunkmate Got Way Too Handsy
The common room was still dark when the first hints of dawn crept through the windows. I had barely slept. My mind kept replaying Sergeant Ashford’s fingers on my throat and the way Ryder had dropped his arm down from the top bunk like it was the most natural thing in the world. The thin mattress felt even harder than last night.
A loud creak sounded right above me. Before I could react Ryder dropped down from the top bunk shirtless. His thick body hovered right over my bed as he stretched his arms high. His broad chest and defined abs were inches from my face. The scent of warm skin and yesterday’s sweat hit me strong. His muscular thigh brushed against my hip as he balanced himself on the edge of my bunk.
“Morning wood check Rhodes,” he said with a wide grin. His voice was still rough from sleep but full of that loud golden boy energy.
Before I could answer he pounced. Playful wrestling broke out right there on the narrow bunk. Ryder pinned me down for a second, his weight pressing me into the thin mattress. Our chests slid together. His bare skin felt hot against mine. We grappled laughing hard as I tried to shove him off. His powerful arms wrapped around me. Our legs tangled. Breathing grew heavier. The laughter covered something sharper underneath but I pushed that thought away. It was just bro shit. Just the kind of stupid fun guys did in places like this.
I actually enjoyed it. In one single day Ryder had become the easiest friendship I had made in years. No cold expectations. No judgment. Just loud laughs and easy touches. It felt good after the ice cold house I grew up in.
Ryder finally rolled off me still laughing. He sat on the edge of the bunk and wiped sweat from his forehead. “Better be on guard today bro. Sergeant Ashford wants perfection. Heard he is extra brutal on pretty boys.” He tried to mock the British accent putting on a terrible posh voice. “Fix your posture Recruit Rhodes.” We both cracked up. The imitation was awful but it made the tension in my chest loosen.
Just then Alistair Beckett walked past our corner. His lean wiry frame moved with that arrogant stride. He glanced at us and sneered. “What are you girls laughing about?”
Ryder did not miss a beat. “Fuck off Beckett. Go polish your silver spoon or whatever rich boys do.”
Alistair made a weird arrogant face tightening his sharp cheekbones. His cold grey eyes flicked between us before he kept walking without another word.
“Up and about ladies,” a deep voice barked from the front of the common room. One of the corporals stood there already dressed. “Sergeant wants everyone out for PT in five minutes. Move it.”
We scrambled to pull on our PT gear. The common room filled with the sounds of guys rushing around half awake. Ryder and I jogged out together into the cool morning air. The platoon formed up quickly on the training field. Thirty bodies standing in neat lines waiting.
Sergeant Dominic Ashford appeared like he owned the ground beneath his boots. Six four of pure muscle and command. His dirty blond hair looked even sharper in the early light. The uniform stretched tight across his thick chest as he moved. He started us off without mercy.
The brutal rhythm of Camp Blackridge hit hard and fast. We dropped for push ups in the dirt. Then came a long run around the perimeter. Ashford ran alongside us the entire time energizing the squad with his rough voice.
“Come on ladies, my grandma can run faster than you idiots.”
“Pick up those knees.”
“Sweat now or bleed later.”
His commands cut through the grunts and heavy breathing. Every time he passed me I felt his presence like a physical force. The man did not just lead. He dominated the air around him.
Halfway through the session Ashford called for squats. He moved through the ranks correcting form. When he reached me… he stopped. Without warning he stepped right behind me. His big hands settled firmly on my waist and hips adjusting my stance. The heat of his body pressed close. Sweat dripped from his chin and landed on the back of my neck warm and slow.
“Lower Recruit Rhodes,” he growled low in my ear. That clipped British accent sent a shiver down my spine. “Feel how a real man holds it.”
His hands stayed on me guiding me deeper into the squat. I held the position as he commanded. “Hold it. Hold it Rhodes.” My thighs burned. Twenty long seconds passed with his massive frame hovering right behind me. His breath brushed the side of my neck. The power imbalance felt thick and filthy even though it was supposed to be just training.
My legs finally gave out. I stood up breathing hard. Ashford gave my ass a firm slap. The sound cracked loud enough for nearby guys to hear. He leaned in close and whispered “You can do better than that.”
Then he moved on continuing the drills with the rest of the platoon like nothing had happened. But the squad had noticed. A few heads turned. Whispers moved through the lines. I felt the heat of his touch everywhere. On my hips. On my ass. In the low growl of his voice still echoing in my head.
When I glanced across the field Ryder was watching. His usual easy grin had faded into something tighter. Something more possessive.
Ashford’s hands and that low voice were still burning on my skin, and across the field Ryder was staring like he didn’t like it one bit.
The platoon dragged itself toward the showers after PT. The communal shower room was nothing but open space, rows of showerheads mounted on wet concrete walls, and zero privacy. Guys stripped down without a second thought. Shirts and shorts hit the floor in piles. Cocks swung freely as men stepped under the spray. Firm asses flexed while tired muscles glistened under the water. Steam rose thick in the air mixing the sharp smell of soap with the heavy scent of male sweat from a brutal morning session. Guys joked loudly about how Ashford had nearly killed them all.
I stepped under one of the heads and let the hot water hit my shoulders. Ryder claimed the spot right next to me. His athletic body was on full display. Broad shoulders. Thick chest. Water ran down the ridges of his abs and over his powerful thighs. He looked every bit the golden boy jock even when soaked and exhausted. He started soaping up talking shit about the morning drills.
“Fuck man that sergeant is a beast. My legs are dead and we still have the whole day ahead.”
His arm brushed mine as he reached for more soap. Then again. He stood close enough that our skin kept touching under the spray. Without asking he stepped behind me and rubbed soap over my back. His strong hands slid over my wet skin in smooth circles. The touch was friendly but it lingered longer than necessary. Quite touchy. The closeness of his naked body behind me felt overwhelming. His chest was inches from my back. I could feel the heat coming off him even with the water running between us.
Ryder grinned and leaned in. “Careful Callum, don’t drop the soap.”
We both laughed. The joke was classic locker room bullshit but my cock twitched hard at the words. Why the fuck is a dude turning me on? I thought. I quickly brushed the idea away and focused on rinsing off trying not to react to the casual intimacy. It was just guys being guys. Nothing more.
After the showers, we had a short downtime back in the common room. Most guys crashed on their bunks but Ryder was not having it. He insisted on giving me a bro massage for my sore shoulders. I lay face down on my bottom bunk while he straddled the edge and went to work. His hands were strong and warm. He started at my shoulders then moved lower down my back. His palms pressed deep into the muscles lingering on my lower back and even brushing the tops of my thighs. The pressure felt good but it also sent heat pooling low in my gut. My breathing grew uneven.
“Damn you are tight Rhodes,” he said his voice dropping into that flirtatious tone. “If you were a chick I would be all over this.”
I fired back sarcastically. “Keep dreaming Callahan. You wish.”
He laughed but his hands did not stop. They kept working my muscles with slow firm strokes. My body was betraying me. Every touch made the heat inside me build higher. I tried to stay relaxed but it was getting harder by the second.
The moment broke when Alistair walked in. His snarky expression was locked on tight as he took in the scene. “Enjoying the special treatment from both the sergeant and your new boyfriend?”
I did not even think. I sat up fast and fake hugged Ryder pulling him close in an exaggerated way. I grinned right at Alistair. “You wanna join Beckett? Feeling left out?”
Ryder jumped in perfectly. His hands slid over my body with fake affection. “Aww Rhodes baby…”
We both kept teasing. “Come on Alistair join us.”
Alistair’s face twisted with pure irritation. He turned sharply and walked out without another word. The second he was gone Ryder and I burst out laughing. Ryder shook his head. “That dude is so fucking jealous of everything.”
“Yeah I don’t know why the fuck he keeps cornering me,” I replied still chuckling.
Ryder patted my back and kept the fake flirt going. “Don’t worry baby girl, you have your camp boyfriend with you now.” He grinned wider. “Maybe I will wife you up in here, so Alistair doesn’t trouble you anymore.”
I rolled my eyes and shot back. “Shut the fuck up you would be the worst husband ever.”
We kept laughing until the energy in the room settled. The rest of the afternoon passed in more drills and briefings but my mind kept drifting back to the shower and the massage. By the time lights out came, the common room grew quiet. I lay on my bunk in nothing but thin boxers staring at the metal frame above me. My body was sore but that was not what kept me awake.
I kept replaying everything. Ashford’s commanding hands gripping my hips during the squat. The way his sweat had dripped onto my neck. Then Ryder in the shower, his naked body so close behind me. Those strong hands on my back during the massage. The broken engagement flashed in my head again. My ex telling me there was no spark. Now here I was surrounded by straight men who were getting under my skin in ways I did not understand. Why were they affecting me so much? I ended up rock hard under the blanket fighting the urge to do anything about it. I could not let myself go there.
The bunk creaked above me. Ryder dropped down and sat on the edge of my bunk in the dark. “Dude I can’t fucking sleep.”
I scooted over a little to give him space.
His voice dropped lower and more serious than usual. “You were staring at the sergeant today… and at me in the showers. What is going on in that head bro?”
Ryder’s eyes stayed locked on mine in the dark, the playful tone from earlier completely gone. The question hung heavy between us, filled with something possessive and curious that made my pulse race. I opened my mouth but no easy lie came out. For the first time since I stepped off that bus, I wasn’t sure I wanted to pretend anymore.
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