Eric West, Tyler's older brother, had been in the United States Marine Corps for eleven years and had risen to the rank of Gunnery Sergeant. That alone made him an admired role model for his younger brother. In the meantime, however, he had also become a platoon leader in a so-called MSOT (Marine Special Operations Team), one of only a few commando units within an armed force that already considered itself elite. As a result, Eric had been deployed several times in recent years to Afghanistan, Iraq, and a few other places he was not allowed to talk about. He spent more than 260 days a year on exercises or in combat, dedicating his entire life to the Corps. He was a highly trained elite soldier who could compete with the best in the world and had found a second family in his teammates, who were strictly closed off to the outside world. An adventurer who had moved away from rural Illinois to see the world and do something meaningful for his country. Sometimes Eric had to smile at how naive he had been when, at just 18 years old, he set off to report to the nearest recruitment office.
Despite his elite status, he had kept his feet on the ground and didn't let his comrades outside his unit feel that he was in a different league. He had always found this attitude, widespread among elite soldiers, pretentious. The job was often hard enough as it was, without having to deal with such ego games within his own unit. In the end, they were all comrades and should behave accordingly. But as much as he loved his job and the regimented life in the military, he also enjoyed the few days a year when he didn't have to function. Days when no instructor was evaluating his performance or when his life and the lives of others depended on his decisions. That's why he had been looking forward to seeing Tyler again and had hoped fervently that another last-minute transfer order wouldn't thwart his plans. This time he was lucky.
Satisfied, he shouldered his light marching pack as he got out of the taxi that had taken him from Camp Lejeune to Wilmington International Airport early Sunday morning. Only a three-and-a-half-hour flight to Palm Beach and a short drive to the vacation home separated him from the long-awaited reunion with his little brother. Now he was no longer just a brother, but also a comrade after successfully completing basic training. Of course, he knew that his little brother looked up to him and saw him as a role model, which he admitted flattered him. But today it was Tyler who deserved his respect, and that was why he had made a special day trip to Florida before he had to report back to his home base the day after tomorrow.
It was shortly after 11:00 a.m. when Eric finally reached the vacation home. He wore a tight-fitting olive-green Marine Corps cotton shirt that stretched across his toned chest and shoulder muscles. He also wore light brown three-quarter-length cargo pants and Nike sneakers. With his backpack slung casually over one shoulder, he strolled between two houses to the beach. Once there, he took in the peaceful scenery through his cool tinted black military sunglasses, enjoying the sweeping view of the azure blue sea, the gently rolling waves, and the warming rays of the sun high in the cloudless sky. Fantastic! Finally standing on a beach again without a mission or combat gear, just taking in the peaceful moment, breathing deeply, and living in the moment. He almost didn't know how to behave as a tourist anymore, he realized with a shake of his head.
Only now did he notice the silence. Everyone in the vacation home seemed to still be asleep, which was unusually late for Marines. He slowly approached the back and climbed the few steps to the terrace. He noticed empty bottles, the used grill, paper cups, dirty dishes, traces of spilled drinks. The sergeant shook his head silently and followed the trail of destruction to the sliding door, which was unlocked and led into the living room. Inside, the chaos continued, and amid whiskey bottles, drinking cups, and clothes lying around, two rather slight specimen of Marines were snoring quietly on the sofas. "Just you wait, you'll be standing upright in a second," Eric thought to himself and grinned diabolically as he took a deep breath:
"I MUST BE CRAZY! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!? GET UP AND LINE UP, MARINES!" Eric suddenly yelled with all his might through the living room, his voice echoing throughout the house and clearly audible even under the roof. "ARE YOU READY YET!? I SAID GET UP! GET YOUR ASSES OUT OF BED! GO!!!", he continued, now barking directly in the face of one of the Marines. The two sat up abruptly, still dazed from sleep, but instinctively knowing that they had to obey. Noises could now be heard from above as well. Surprised, somewhat disoriented, their eyes still blinking and their clothes thoroughly wrinkled, Kyle and Owen stood a few seconds later in front of the guy in civilian clothes who had just so rudely awakened them from their sleep. "What the hell..." Kyle began, but the stranger cut him off with an imperious gesture: "Get your comrades down, Marines, go!" he ordered instead, and after a moment's hesitation, the two obeyed. By now, it had dawned on them that the guy must be Tyler's older brother Eric, whose visit had been expected today.
A short time later, the six Marines stood slightly sleepy in front of the Gunnery Sergeant, who looked at them sternly. "So, this is how you imagine life as US-Marines? Drinking whiskey, sleeping until noon, and living in a garbage dump? You are a disgrace to the Corps! I'm glad I'm not your platoon sergeant!" He gestured broadly at the mess in the living room. "Or did I get the wrong door and you're a bunch of degenerate college students who really let loose last night? Hmm?" Eric asked the sheepish-looking soldiers. "No," Jason replied meekly on behalf of the group, which seemed somewhat strange given that he towered over Eric. The sergeant was immediately on him: "No, what!? It's 'No, sir! Or 'No, Gunnery Sergeant! Understood, Marine?" Intimidated, the man addressed nodded. Tyler himself didn't know what to make of his brother's behavior: What was going on with him? They had just slept in a little longer, were off duty and wanted to have some fun. At that moment, he caught Eric's gaze, and after a few seconds of silence, a broad grin flitted across the sergeant's face. "All right, I won't be like that. A little fun is allowed. At ease!" Unsure whether they would get the next dressing-down, no one dared to move.
Eric laughed loudly at their reaction and patted Brandon, who was standing in front of him, encouragingly on the shoulder. "Come on, guys, it was just a joke. No one knows better than me that after three months of basic training, you need a little variety. And letting loose far away in Florida is certainly better than getting wasted in a bar near base like we used to and getting beaten up by one of the instructors." The Marines slowly began to relax and had to smile at what they had just heard. "Welcome to the Marine Corps, guys, I'm proud of you. And thank you for looking after Tyler. Come here, brother!" the soldier continued, hugging his brother warmly as he stepped forward. "Tyler certainly didn't need a chaperone, he did well and fought his way through everything without help. We didn't have to wait for him," Luke replied, giving his roommate an appreciative smile. Once the ice was broken, the Marines set about restoring the house to a presentable condition. While the rest of the group went shopping for a barbecue with their guest, the two brothers sat down on the terrace. Tyler proudly recounted the three months he had spent becoming a Marine, while Eric told him anecdotes from his recent missions. Once again, the younger brother was captivated by the cool stories his role model had in store, and he felt a growing desire to someday go on a mission with his big brother.
Josh had spent half the previous night on Netflix to distract himself from the Marines partying loudly next door, whom he couldn't stand anyway. He had just heard some shouting from next door, and it woke him up. Great, the hot guys were already having fun again and doing some stupid thing, while he was still sitting here alone. Frustrated, he stumbled down to the kitchen, made himself a bowl of cornflakes, and sat down on the terrace, wearing only his skimpy Speedo, looking out at the calm sea. Although he had jerked off several times yesterday thinking about the sexy Marines from the house next door, a morning boner was already bulging out the crotch of his swimming trunks. Even by his standards, it was unbelievable how horny he had been since discovering his new neighbors. It was all the more frustrating that he would be left alone with his dirty fantasies. For starters, he couldn't think of a plausible reason to go to the neighboring property and make contact with the guys. Let alone getting into a situation where the soldiers wouldn't laugh at him or even beat him up if he revealed his true intentions. So what to do with the day?
Meanwhile, Eric had given in to his urge to move and an hour later had set off alone for a 5-mile run on the beach. As an elite soldier, he was used to completing a certain amount of exercise every day, and the beautiful scenery had further motivated him. Although he took it easier on his days off, he still set a brisk pace. As had been customary since he joined the Corps, he completed his exercise in combat boots, camouflage pants, and an olive-green shirt. He also wore his black mirrored military sunglasses. After a short time, sweat was already running down his forehead, his tight-fitting cotton shirt was getting damp spots, and sand was sticking to his boots. The sergeant ignored it and covered meter after meter of his run on the deserted beach. A loud beep from his Garmin heart rate monitor marked the turning point of his planned route. So he slowed down, took a short break, and then jogged back in the opposite direction to the vacation home.
Josh had spent the afternoon on Instagram, trying to relieve his boredom by chatting extensively with friends, sharing funny video clips, and listening to music. In the afternoon, he decided to go swimming again. This time he ventured a little further out than yesterday, after all, he was an experienced and skilled swimmer. There wasn't much going on at the Marines' house, as he noticed from the water. The swimmer crawled through the mostly calm sea, enjoying its deep blue color and pleasant water temperature, which still offered a welcome refreshment compared to the scorching sun. After resting a little by paddling on the spot in the water, he wanted to swim back towards the beach. He was just over 100 meters from the surf when he suddenly noticed a current beginning to pull him back out to sea. On the surface, the water was calm, but beneath the surface, a noticeable undertow had developed. Completely surprised, because this stretch of beach was not known for the dreaded rip currents, Josh began to swim against the pull, finally using all his strength to get closer to the beach again. But without success, he managed at best to compensate for the current and not drift further out. Panic began to rise in Josh, preventing him from remembering the strategies recommended in such situations. As the young man felt his strength waning and found it increasingly difficult to stay afloat, he began to shout for help as loudly as he could.
Meanwhile, Eric had almost reached the vacation home and was jogging to lower his heart rate when he heard the cries for help. He immediately looked out to sea and a few seconds later spotted a swimmer gesturing wildly with his arms, about 120 meters from the safety of the beach. Without hesitation, he tore off his sunglasses, threw them carelessly into the sand, and sprinted off. The soles of his combat boots splashed hard in the shallow water, his pants were soaked in an instant and stuck to his legs as he waded as fast as he could through the knee-deep water. As soon as it rose to chest height, he threw himself headfirst into it and approached the person in need of help with long crawl strokes. Josh had already swallowed water several times and was at the end of his strength, even though the undercurrent had subsided again. When the Marine reached him, he was already unconscious and was just barely able to be taken in tow. The Marine took great care to ensure that the boy's nose and mouth remained above water at all times and that his self-protection restraining tow hold was performed correctly as trained. Eric correctly suspected that a current was the cause of the emergency and therefore swam parallel to the shoreline before heading back towards land.
A little later, they reached the surf, and as soon as the water was shallow enough, the soldier lifted the unconscious young man into his strong arms. It was an impressive sight to see the Marine, his muscular physique perfectly showcased by his dripping wet clothes, carrying the boy seemingly effortlessly toward the vacation home. Josh had regained partial consciousness and felt someone bringing him ashore with a firm grip. He smiled slightly, sensing that he must have just been rescued by one of the Marines. Sometimes fate really did play some pretty macabre tricks. Eric met his comrades as they were firing up the grill and laid Josh down on a hastily fetched beach towel on the terrace. The party mood quickly evaporated, and a group of Marines looked down worriedly at the soaking wet boy as he was expertly examined by the sergeant. The boy was slightly breathing and moving again, so Eric tried to bring him back to full consciousness by gently patting his cheeks.
Sure enough, Josh opened his eyes a little later and was startled at first when he looked into the handsome face of a burly guy who was staring at him seriously, and saw a row of combat boots, camouflage pants, and muscular torsos covered by tight-fitting shirts all around him. However, when he saw the concerned faces of the Marines, the college student relaxed and got another boner at the extremely hot sight of the tough guys. How embarrassing, hopefully no one saw the bulge! After all, he was only wearing a Speedo! "Are you okay? What's your name?" asked the handsome guy kneeling next to him, obviously his rescuer. "Jo-Josh," the boy croaked. "Okay, Josh. I'm Eric. You got into trouble while swimming in the ocean and then lost consciousness. Luckily, I was in the right place at the right time, and was able to save you. You were caught in an undercurrent, right?" Josh nodded weakly. "Probably. I actually know this area and I'm not a bad swimmer. But the current came completely out of the blue," replied the boy dejectedly. "Don't worry about it, it can happen to even the most experienced swimmers," replied the Marine with unusual warmth, smiling slightly. "Is this cute guy flirting with me?" Josh suddenly wondered. But he quickly dismissed the thought. He really needed to rein in his horniness for a few minutes and not read too much into everything!
Once the situation was under control and the Marines learned that Josh lived in the house next door, they invited him to their BBQ without further ado. Excited, the boy quickly ran over, threw on some shorts and a T-shirt, and returned with a large cooler full of ice cream. The stranded swimmer quickly integrated into the group of soldiers and together they enjoyed the barbecue. After a round of introductions, everyone wanted to hear again exactly how he had got into distress at sea, and no one seemed to find his panicked reaction embarrassing. Impressed, he listened to their stories about their training, and the more he got to know the guys, noticed their sometimes rough charm, and laughed at their crude jokes, the more he liked them and began to envy their close-knit community. The whole time, he had a hard-on in his pants, but luckily it was no longer visible from the outside.
Josh kept looking at his savior, who was sitting not far from him at the end of the table. He seemed to be significantly older than the rest of the group and something like their leader. At least, the other soldiers naturally deferred to him, even though he said little and tended to stay in the background. A natural leader. What was his name again? Eric. Unusual, but very fitting for his heroic savior in distress. He studied that beefy, muscular upper body attentively: broad shoulders, massive pecs that bulged powerfully out of his tight shirt, a flat stomach over which the fabric formed slight folds, and sleeve ends that were crushed by his fat biceps. He greedily took in the impressions and his mind's eye showed a special performance that was absolutely not suitable for minors. His cock twitched excitedly and Josh felt a wet spot in his Speedo, which he was now wearing as underwear. It was almost torture how much these guys turned him on, with no chance of turning their BBQ into an orgy where they all had sex with each other.
The evening passed without further incident, and at some point the Marines began to pack their things, as they had to drive back the next morning. Eric would also be taking his flight back to everyday service tomorrow morning, but he had already packed his things and therefore decided to accompany the neighbor boy safely across the street. After all, the blond-haired boy was already a little tipsy and no longer quite so steady on his feet. The Marine couldn't explain why, but he wanted to make sure the little guy got to his bed safely. Giggling quietly and swaying slightly, Josh trudged through the sand on the beach toward his parents' vacation home. To their right, the sea, which had almost swallowed him up today, rustled quietly. Above them, millions of stars twinkled and the chirping sounds of countless insects filled the night. With the attractive hardcore Marine at his side, he was once again overcome with melancholy about his feelings, which he was not allowed to reveal. The mere fact that the tough guy had gone out of his way to accompany him home made his heart melt. Damn it, why did he have to meet such a cute straight guy and promptly fall for him? Although fate had sent this Marine as his lifesaver, he secretly cursed it for its whims. A silent tear ran down Josh's cheek, which he quickly wiped away. Unrequited, secret longing gnawed at him and closed like a cold fist around his heart.
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