I stepped into the barracks and frowned. Two bunks. Only two? I was used to sharing with a dozen or more guys. The cabin was fairly small, so at least having the beds stacked would give us the illusion of space. The perils of life aboard ship, I guess.

I tossed my kit bag into one of the storage lockers built into the footboard of the bunks. "Welcome to life in the Terran Marines," I told myself.

I was proud to be here. I was one of seven hundred men and women in the Battalion, supported by one hundred and eight combat vehicles, assigned to defending the ideals of the multi-planetary federation. Or enforcing the whims of the Terran Government, which was probably more likely.

"It all sounded so much glorious in the recruiting vids," I said aloud. "So far, there has been a distinct lack of glory."

My erstwhile bunk-mate was gone. "On duty or leave?" I wondered. The Vindication was holding station in orbit above Consecon. The room was devoid of personal touches, giving me no hints as to the character or personality of my room-mate.

"Brad Grazley." That was all I knew about him. And I only knew that much because he'd left some papers on the desk. I didn't want to snoop, but if he was leaving things out in the open for anyone to stumble across ... a letter home wasn't all that exciting.

I changed into a t-shirt and shorts. "An hour or two working out should help me settle in." I headed for the gym.

"You lost already?"

I stepped through the door into the gym. A few of the other marines present looked up as the hatch hissed closed.

"Look at this one," someone called out.

"Look at that haircut."

"Bout time we got some fresh meat."

I nodded to them, but said nothing. I am the new guy. I knew that I would have to prove myself before they would accept me. Same ritual everywhere ... but it's been a while since I was the newbie.

I hefted weights for a good hour or so. Most of the other guys ignored me.

Sweaty and tired, I headed into the showers. I stripped off my t-shirt and shorts and cranked the hot water.

"Raw meat on the hoof."

I caught sight of my face in one of the mirrors. I had green eyes set high on a face with strong Greek features. My dark hair was cut short in the current marine style. I liked what I saw, and so did a lot of other guys. I finished showering, only half-listening to the bantering of the other guys in the showers.

"Look at the rug on him."

"We should take the wire cutters to it."

"My mother could use a new coat for the winter."

I shook my head. "You're just jealous," I told my squad-mates as they finished up their own showers. "Your mothers probably have more hair on their chests than you."

Laughter and backslapping signalled my temporary victory in the war of words. All part of the camaraderie of the Corps.

The banter continued in the mess hall.

"Do you all smell that?!"

I stood in line, trying to ignore the gesturing marine.

"Looks like we got us a new fish." He sauntered towards me, a cocky swagger in his movements. "What's your name, fish?"

"Lou Angelino." I looked him over. "And you are?"

"Fred Van Der Hagen."

"We call him Freddie."

Fred turned and glared at the other marine. "Fuck off, Mikael."

The red-headed marine grinned back at him. "Only if you promise to keep your hands off me while you watch."

Fred's face darkened.

The line moved forward.

Fred turned back towards me. Fred was shorter than me, but a scar down his right cheek hinted at previous action. His arms strained the brown sleeves of his t-shirt. "Listen up, Fish. You're on the Vindication now, one of the best ships in the whole fucking Fleet. You won't let us down."

"Is that a threat?"

"Just a promise." He clenched his hands into tight fists. "No one slacks off here."

I stood my ground.

"You just might do," he said at last. "At least you look like a soldier and not like the school boys we've been getting from this dirt ball." He turned and strutted away to join a table full of his pals.

Nice ass in those pants. I took my tray and sat down at a table.

A real hunk of a man walked into the barracks that night. "Hi, I'm Brad."

"Lou." I gave him a look. He was a pretty typical jarhead, about six feet tall, with short sandy blond hair, brown eyes, and perfect teeth. He seemed real nice, but that was just my first impression. I found out very quickly that he had a way of being welcoming and comfortable, but intimidating as well.

"The newbie. I heard that you'd transferred in."

"Word travels fast."

"Yep, it usually does." He shrugged. "I was on a training session." Sweat was soaking his brown t-shirt and I'll never forget that first view as he undressed to take a shower. He wasn't bashful as he stripped off and covered himself with a white towel--but life in the military quickly stripped away any modesty we might have had to start with. I found myself admiring his smooth chest and well-defined six-pack.

When he returned to our room, I found myself wanting to catch a better look, and everything under the towel was as beautiful as the rest.

Our first night in the room went very smoothly. The bunk beds were old--probably as old as the frigate--and creaked as he got into bed. Brad slept in the nude, and watching him jump into bed was very interesting. From the very first night, we found ourselves talking for hours about every possible thing.

Our friendship grew during the first weeks. Brad had been the last new guy into the squad, so we tended to stick together. One night, about two weeks after transferring in, I awoke in the middle of the night, an unusual occurrence for me. It took me a few seconds to realize what had aroused me. At first it was a slight movement, and I realized that Brad was shaking the bunks. I was then fully aware that he was jerking off!

I lay quietly and listened to the slight movements and his breathing. When his breath caught in his throat, I knew that he had just cum, and I was even more aroused. What did his cock look like? I wondered.

Brad rolled over and I listened as his breathing indicated he was asleep. My own arousal needed to be dealt with, and I slipped my boxer shorts down below my balls, and very carefully began to rub and stroke myself to orgasm. It was difficult to be quiet, but I managed to keep my groans down as I shot all over my tummy. It was more powerful than usual, which confused me.

Over the next few weeks, I was periodically aware of Brad jerking off. I never said or did anything, but always repeated his release with one of my own.