Warning! This story is a work of erotic fiction written for the purpose of pure entertainment. The story contains sexually explicit behavior between consenting males. If you are not of legal age to read such material or are offended by this type of writing do not read any further.
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E-mail: bn2rumpranger "at" yahoo "dot" com Subject line: Christmas Cocks.
Christmas Cocks By The Rumpranger
Chapter 31: The Waiting Game
After reporting back to the Causal Company where I'd been assigned for the past days awaiting my fate the 1SG had told me to go relax in the dayroom for the rest of the day until evening chow. I was lounging around the desolate dayroom in a demoralized state mindlessly mentally masturbating, while watching television for more breaking news on the Alvarez murder investigation.
The reporter wasn't saying a word about anything new, or the Fort Sam soldier that had originally been charged in the murder investigation -- me. Sprawled out across the leather couch my mind was also cluttered with images of Mike, pondering how I'd become entangled in this awful fucking mess.
Let's face facts; initially, I'd gotten caught up in my predicament because I was horny and after meeting Sgt Alvarez I found myself lusting after him. As I was slouching on the couch I was remembering the evening we first met months before at the same convenience store where Mike had been murdered -- how ironic. I was remembering his soft image and voice, his smell.
Mike was such a demure individual. I couldn't believe it when his sister told me that he'd been decorated with the Bronze Star for Valor and Purple Heart. While given aid and comfort to his wounded fellow soldiers he courageously fought off their attackers until reinforcements arrived. Wow! That just blew me away. Of course that was something Mike would have never told me.
A fighter was not in Mikey's nature, not the Mike I knew. He was a caregiver and a compassionate person. I didn't think he could hurt a fly, but no one knows how things will turn out once one is confronted by danger, the threat of losing one's life. The adrenaline starts pumping through the human body, masking pain and responding to fear in ways we would never think possible. I had felt that same type of stress response when I was arrested.
The fight-or-flight response or as it is called by some as, fight, flight-or-freeze, fright, fight or flight response, acute stress response, was initially advanced in 1929 by Walter Cannon. He posited that animals (humans are animals) react to threats with a general discharge of the sympathetic nervous system, priming the animal for fighting or fleeing. In the Army it's called fight or get the fuck out of Dodge City and for those that freeze they die. The response was later recognized as the first stage of general adaptation syndrome that regulates stress responses among vertebrate and other organisms.
I often wondered how hard Mike fought for his life while being attack at the convenience store the night he died. I was curious if I had been there could I have protected him preventing his death or would we both have been killed. Another theory I questioned, did Mike know the attacker? From what witnesses described it seemed he did know the suspect. I know I cried many times thinking about the awful murder of my friend and lover. I hadn't seen any photos from the crime scene, but I had been told in vivid details how the attacker, that would have been me during questioning, had stabbed Mike numerous times and then cut his throat leaving him to bleed out on the ground where he fell.
After he fell to the ground mortally wounded, according to witness statements the killer, allegedly me, coolly got into Mike's truck and drove off. Somehow the killer knew or discovered where Mike lived because he went to the apartment at some point, ransacking it for cash and anything of value. A few days later the police discovered Mike's truck abandon on the outskirts of San Antonio. Of course my fingerprints were found all over the vehicle.
Another bit of incriminating evidence was the helmet I purchased for Mike months prior. The Captain America style motorcycle helmet was found in the truck and again my finger prints were on it. The owner and sales person at the thrift store identified me as the purchaser of the helmet months prior. Maybe by some coincidence the killer who was wearing black riding leathers was also wearing a matching helmet or maybe it was the same one and he left it in the truck after the murder to seal the deal. I often wondered as I sat in that jail cell, had I been set up?
I guess I would find out the answers to those questions eventually, maybe sooner than later. After the murder and for a time thereafter the circumstantial evidence was definitely stacked against me. I was thankful I had a good defense attorney and private investigators that went about their job picking all the circumstantial evidence apart, getting me released into Army custody to await trial.
My biggest mistake was after Mike's murder was refusing to cooperate fully with CID or the police. My refusal to cooperate with police prompted the media to present sensational but many unfounded sexual accusations and innuendo about me as motive for the murder. Many of the false allegations were leaked to the press during Mike's murder investigation by everyone seeking fifteen minutes of fame, thereby casting doubt on my innocence.
I wouldn't cooperate with law enforcement, especially Army CID because of the silly ass outdated Army policy regarding homosexuality in the military. What the hell was I to tell the Army cops while being questioned when I was initially taken into custody? I was a horny GI when I spotted Mike and was immediately attracted to him; attracted to him as a person, but mainly as a person with strong sexual appeal. A decorated Army Sergeant with an exemplary record who sexually excited me -- I don't think so.
The two of us made the mistake of secretly setting up housekeeping during the summer, by me moving my personal property into Mike's apartment and living together as a couple. We were a happy couple and nobody was the wiser, but we were male lovers in the Army and the Army didn't tolerate homosexuality. We never argued or had a cross word for each other with one exception. We'd argued over Christmas leave in the days prior by way of e-mails and cell phone conversations. I'd taken Christmas leave that we'd bickered about before hand and then as I made my way back to Fort Sam from that leave Mike was gone in the blink of an eye -- my lover was gone.
What a horrible way to end Christmas and begin a new year; for me a time of so much joy with my family, but such deep sorrow for Mike's family. Of course the Army and police had copies of our e-mails; however, no where in our e-mails had we ever blatantly discussed any sexual relationship or our sexuality. We had agreed that we would never discuss our sexuality openly or by any means that could be traced back to us because of Army policy.
An Army policy that Mike and I both, as well as many others in the military, thought was archaic. All that had taken place in a relatively short period of time while Mike was permanent party and I was undergoing advance medical training at Fort Sam.