*This is the second installment of Frontier, if you have not read part one I suggest you read that first. Feel free to comment any thoughts or criticism, I would love to know how to make these stories better. Thanks, enjoy.
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"Wake up Bitch." a voice called, and James opened his eyes to greet the sunlight rising over the plains, the darkness of the earth giving way to the red glow in the east. Falling heavily upon the small stand of Cedar's where the company had made their camp the evening before, and in the light the waking soldiers stretched and shifted as sleep was put aside for the rigors of a fresh days march.
It might have been a pleasant waking for the Private, had he not found it accompanied by a boot digging sharply into his ribs. Private Goss stood over him, thin lips already frowning early in the day. A huge Carolianian on the run from God knew what, Goss had become something of an NCO on the long slow march to Texas. It was a station that appealed to his mean streak and to his dour nature, and the men around him all agreed that any soul who could wake up so angry as did Private Goss would surely go far in the frontier army they had joined.
The older man prodded James again with the toe of his boot, harder than before, and it did not matter that James Cotter had opened his eyes, Goss pretended as though the young man was still fast asleep, and he repeated his ritual of waking. A series of kicks and a verbal reminder of Cotter's station within the marching column.
"The Lieutenant is already up." Goss growled when he could no longer ignore Cotter's cursing and his movement. "You best get on with it bitch. Can't keep the officer waiting."
"You won't be so tough when we get to where we're going." Cotter pointed out in annoyance. "When we get to Fort Ewing and they put a rifle in my hands, I'd like to see you kick at me then."
"When we get to Fort Ewing the only thing they are going to give a punk like you is more pricks to suck." Goss growled as he aimed another kick at Cotter's rising body. "Make it quick bitch, some of us would as soon be on the march."
"I can never tell Goss... do you just want to be an asshole, or is it that you wish you could suck his prick yourself?"
But Cotter dodged the last kick which Goss aimed at him, and ignoring the other Private's hard stare and his scowl he made his way across the camp to the place where the Lieutenant had laid his bedroll.
Lieutenant Given pulling his boots on as Cotter approached, looked up and nodded to the young man, his hands finishing with his boots. He ran his fingers across his forehead, parting the curly brown locks which fell below the rim of his hat, and he did not smile as he waited for the Private to speak.
"You ought to deal with Goss, Sir." Cotter grumbled. "He's getting to be a little too full of himself."
"But he serves a function." Given shrugged. "He keeps the men moving, he keeps them in line."
"He isn't better than us."
"No. And you don't need to worry. Where you are going there are worse than Goss waiting. He'll never make it past the rank of Private and he'll be dead inside the year. Disease will get him or some other private's bullet on the slim chance that the Apache don't manage to kill the man. And what difference can it make to you now,Private? He knows that he can only push you so far. As long as you keep me happy Cotter, I can keep you safe from men like that."
The Lieutenant said this as his hand moved to the front of his trousers, as he began to run his hand along the bulge that Cotter could see rising beneath the thin blue cotton. Cotter glanced around through the early morning light, taking in the stumbling forms of the rising men in the long grass all around them.
Cotter pursed his lips, "You want to go someplace more private maybe?"
But Lieutenant Given only grinned, and his fingers worked at the buttons of his fly which he had only a moment before done up.
"It's nothing they haven't seen before Cotter." Given laughed. "Come on now...don't be shy."
The Lieutenant finished with the buttons, the fly of his trousers yawning darkly as Cotter came forward to close the space between them. Knowing as he did so that all the eyes of the milling soldiers fell upon him, as they did each morning and each eve, the established ritual of his life upon the march.
When he was chest to chest with the Lieutenant, Cotter stopped. He let his hand fall low between them. Reaching blindly forward, his eyes upon Given's own, he extended his fingers into the dark of the tented and opened trousers, felt the heat kiss his skin as his grip closed upon the thick pole secreted within.