Work Text:
“One!”
Fuck my father!
“Two!”
Fuck the Sergeant!
“Three!”
AND FUCK EVERYONE ELSE TOO!
“FOUR! Is that all you got Pavus?”
The Drill Sergeant was in his face again, yelling like he was in one of those movies. Except this movie was being screened in 4D. Spit and all. Dorian wondered how much of the moisture on his face was sweat and how much was Sergeant Bull’s saliva.
Dorian collapsed halfway through his fifth sit-up, sinking back to the muddy ground. He awaited the torrent of abuse that usually streamed out of the sergeant’s mouth when he failed at something apparently so simple.
It did not come.
He squinted through the glaring sun to see Bull looking down on him in distain.
“Hmph. Soft. Just as I thought.”
The sergeant turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Dorian panting on the floor. He wanted to yell, scream, swear- ANYTHING- at his back but he was too tired. It was that third set of 50 sit-ups that killed him.
He wasn’t exactly in bad shape. He just couldn’t deal with this bullshit regiment. A part of him felt bad for mouthing off constantly to his sergeant because it wasn’t his fault he was being forced to be here… But then again Bull was treating him like shit, so it seemed to all balance out.
Dorian found the strength to push himself up onto his feet. Four more weeks of this crap and then it would all be over. He was already rehearsing what he would say to his father when he walked back in through the front door just as “problematic” as the day he left.
He collapsed in his bunk having skipped dinner in the hall. He was done for the day and certainly didn’t want to deal with the rest of the testosterone-hyped nut heads that also attended this boot camp.
His bunk groaned as he sunk onto the rusted springs and Dorian allowed himself to reminisce about the plush feather bedding he would be enjoying the moment he got home. The aching in his body slid out of his muscles, swiftly followed by the rest of the tension and anger he had been carrying in shoulders all day long. A sigh slipped out between his lips as sleep finally washed over him.
He was wrapped up in deep sleep when the hands grabbed him and wrenched him back awake. A hand slammed down onto his mouth before he could scream out.
The shadowy figures that towered down on him bundled him up and carried him outside as he kicked and struggled against their grip. As soon as he slipped away from one hand another came in to replace it.
The rain was coming down heavily and when his skin was too slick to hold onto they tossed him down to the ground.
“Get up, Pavus!”
Dorian fumbled to his feet and squinted through the rain to identify his aggressors. He recognised them almost immediately. Ryder, Francis and Porthos. Homophobic assholes in short. He’d been butting horns with them since he arrived. They were quick to hone in on the sergeant’s dislike for him and used that to their advantage. They tripped him during drills. Whispered vile insults when no one was near to get him riled up in just the right way to make him come off as the disrupter. Bullies, if you will.
But Dorian was used to them. He was used to their words and snide remarks. If it wasn’t his sexuality, it was his wealth. If it wasn’t either of those it was his quick wit and cockiness. And he certainly couldn’t blame them for that last one because he did it on purpose and he was extremely good at it.
“Fists up, Pavus! Time to show us what you’ve really got.” Ryder stepped up close so Dorian could see the bloodthirsty look in his eyes. That and smell the liquor on his breath.
He recoiled as the stench of vodka filled his nose. “I don’t want to fight you.”
“Why not?! Too scared?”
“No. You just might learn something for free.”
“YOU-”
His fist flew through the air and Dorian ducked easily under the swing. He tried to outstep the next blow but it glanced off of his jaw and sent him reeling. Francis and Porthos grabbed his arms before he could recover and held him in place for Ryder’s next swing.
After the fifth blow, Dorian had begun to accept the beating would have to run its course before it would end. They continued to hurl their cheap insults at him as their fists and booted feet collided with his body. He was just too spent to fight back.
Too engrossed in their mindless attack, they did not hear the heavy footsteps that thudded through the wet mud behind them. A big hand came to grab the back of Ryder’s neck and yanked him back away from Dorian. He went flying back and fell prone in the mud. Next, the big meaty fist crashed into Porthos’ stomach, winding him before he could react. Francis jumped back and let Dorian fall to his knees.
“THE THREE OF YOU ARE SUSPENDED AS OF THIS MOMENT! YOU REPORT TO ME IN THE MORNING AT 6AM. SHARP!”
Sergeant Bull’s voice echoed through the muddy yard. For a moment no one moved. All too shocked and stunned.
Dorian’s face eventually lifted to look at him. His features already showed signs of bruising and swelling. Bull reached out a hand. Dorian eyed it in return.
“Come on, Pavus. Get up.”
Dorian reached out a tentative hand and placed his palm in the sergeant’s. Bull closed his grip around it and slowly pulled him to his feet. He slipped an arm under the smaller man’s own arms to keep him steady and helped him hobble away from the still stunned men in the yard.
Once inside his private cabin, Bull carefully lowered Dorian onto his bunk and went to fetch a towel. He returned and draped it around his shoulders without a word, all the time watching him carefully.
“You alright?”
Dorian snorted and regretted it following the pain that lanced through his face. “Just dandy, thank you.”
“Ha. So you’re still a smarmy shit after all of that. Good to know.”
Bull was still watching him but for the first time he smiled at him. In a soft sort of way that felt strangely reassuring. Dorian had to look away to avoid the awkwardness that he felt starting to creep up from his tummy.
“I heard what they were saying… I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner.”
This had him looking back at his sergeant. Again the softness in the man’s face caught him by surprise. Nothing about Bull spoke of softness, so this way of speaking seemed so… out of place and yet equally honest.
“Why do you care?”
The words slipped out faster than Dorian could tame them. He flinched as he heard how harsh they sounded and silently cursed himself for being so automatically defensive.
Bull only chuckled though.
“You don’t think I’ve dealt with that horse shit myself?” He pulled up a wooden chair to face the bed and sank down into it, making the wooden hinges groan.
“You’re gay?!”
Again, Dorian cringed as the words came before the process of refining them was complete.
“For all intents and purposes yeah, and I can tell you that numbskulls like that are everywhere. Sadly. So I just do what I do best.”
“Beat the shit out of them?”
“Close. I work them out until they cry for their mothers. They’re not quite so intimidating when they’re rolling around on the floor bawling like babies.”
Dorian couldn’t hold back his smile this time. “I can see why you enjoy your job now.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty sweet.” He paused and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “But I still can’t figure out for shit why you’re here. Let’s face it, this isn’t exactly your kind of scene.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Dorian smirked. “Truth is, you know those ‘numbskulls’ you were talking about? Well my father’s one of them.”
It took Bull a beat to register what he meant and once the initial reaction of rage passed he burst into a big booming laugh.
“You’re joking? He sent you here? To ‘straighten you up’?!”
Dorian wasn’t sure he was keeping up with the joke. “Yes…”
“And all this time I just thought you were a jacked up little rich boy who thought he was tougher than he actually was.”
“Hey! I’d be managing to keep up a lot better if you weren’t picking on me so much.”
“Haha! Yeah, I thought you needed a reality check. My bad.”
“Thank you for that, then.”
“Aw, c’mon. It’s pretty funny.” Bull was still catching his breath from all the laughing.
“Oh yeah… So hilarious. I should make you drop down and give me twenty!”
Bull’s tone suddenly lowered a key but he kept the same smile as he spoke. “If you really want me to.”
Dorian’s tummy did a somersault as the sergeant looked him straight in the eye. He threw the wet towel at the man’s face to distract him as the blushing began to spread to his cheeks.
“Ugh. Get over yourself.”
Bull snatched the towel and tossed it aside. “Well, there are dry shirts in the drawer over there. You can crash here to avoid those guys. I’ll have them isolated in the morning. My first lieutenant, Krem’ll get them into line.”
“Oh uh… Right. And you will sleep…?”
“There’s a couch in my office. It’ll do.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, you look like you need a proper rest.”
“Well, that’s definitely not a compliment.”
“Ha! I’ll leave you to it.”
The sergeant headed for the door.
“Yes, Sergeant Bull.”
He turned to find Dorian smirking at him from the bed. He chuckled on his way out into the rain.
Perhaps the next four weeks weren’t going to be quite so unbearable as Dorian first thought.