MetaDeprivation - 30. MetaPrompts 628: Cuts (MW3 – MW8)

“Eric, get the fuck moving!” Only a voice that knew how to scare boys who thought they were already men shitless, was trained by constantly barking across wide barrack drill squares, and had the authority of having survived more than one cluster fuck, could sound like this.

A young man, barely 18, came running. His hair nearly black as the night, his eyes dark-brown, and healthy stubbles around his broad chin screamed as much wolf as any physiognomy could. “Sir, reporting as ordered!”

Gavin growled, and the young man – Eric – knew he was in deep shit. But he hadn’t expected to be woken up at 06hundered30 on a Saturday without warning. So him not being shaved, his T-shirt not being tugged in correctly, and boots miserably laced were enough reason for one of those anal USMC captains to shake their heads in disbelief.

“Just in time then,” Gavin mumbled, while a jeep approached them.

Isaac was driving it ferociously and made an effort to stop just 10 cm next to his Second Beta with screeching tires. Prime sitting shotgun just couldn’t give a fuck and seemed to study his fingernails.

“Hop in!” Gavin ordered Eric, while he got in behind Prime, without bothering to open the door, just jumping in.

“Good morning, Sirs,” was Eric’s meekly greeting. At least he got a reply. But it wasn’t friendly enough to be encouraged to ask the question he wanted to ask: ‘Where are we going?’

Isaac speeded off and left the compound behind. Only more than an hour later Eric got his answer.

Gavin pushed aside the papers he had signed yesterday. He now was officially a ‘poolee’ they had explained – pretty much assumed to be of the IQ of a pumpkin. Owned by the Corps but not yet in boot camp. Not that he had second thoughts, but he wondered whether him getting too drunk on beer with not enough turkey last month during the Christmas party and revealing how much he wanted to get into Colt’s pants was worth signing away his next four years of life.

He hadn’t been able to sleep through most of the night. You only join the Corps once they had told him – and the weight of that decision wasn’t conducive to sleep. Neither were the indecent thoughts his wolf gave him about coming back to ShadowLands in MARPAT to drive a certain dog tag chaser crazy with lust nor the fact he couldn’t just rub one out. So he smelled when two IC wolves were approaching his little apartment they had been given as new outer circle wolf from the former Winter Fir Pack. He stood at attention as well as Isaac had taught him over the past month – even with him being naked in the snow in the forest – and waited for them to barge into his room (now that he was a ‘poolee’ any notion of privacy was gone).

And indeed barely two minutes later, Isaac stomped in with his boots and paramilitary outfit, shouting as if the Third World War had started, for Gavin to getting fucking squared away and report downstairs.

Gavin jumped into his boots, grabbed his ID and some money for whatever strange reason and ran down. He was ordered into an open jeep – it was fucking January for Fate’s sake! – and Isaac drove off as if they were on the run, with Prime sitting shotgun not giving a shit about anything around him seemingly bitching about some (European) football results – Gavin wondered whom he was chatting with.

Only more than an hour later, Gavin learned why he had been ordered out of his comfy bed at 06hundred30 on a January Saturday.

Gavin had expected them this time. It had been only a few months since he had joined the Corps. But graduating from boot camp had at least removed the stigma of ‘poolee’ from him. Of course, proving himself in the battle against the vampires at the side of Brian has also helped. He knew if the White Wolf hadn’t shown up he wouldn’t have made it, nor his Beta, but many of the other IC wolves would also have lost their lives – and two actually had. He didn’t want to be too proud given the loss of so many wolves, and the pain he felt because of what had happened to Colt, but he sensed he had grown as man and wolf. And being able to anticipate what was coming up was one of the consequences.

In the distance, he saw the caterpillars digging out deep holes, even if they were idle at this ungodly hour. He knew the IC was building their new main house, Luke’s old being too small, too old and too non-Colt to be appropriate. He hadn’t seen the blueprints, but the size of the area being readied was impressive; and he had heard some wolves involved in the construction bitch that the planned building was a beautiful as a broken chair at best, and as a Meth-addicted prostitute without makeup at worst. He didn’t really know what that meant concerning architecture.

As usual, Isaac came speeding as if he was taking an old lady with cardiac arrest to the local hospital.

Gavin didn’t move an inch when the crazy marine wolf stopped just 7 cm before Gavin’s boots. The young blond just-boot-camp-graduate, hopped into the vehicle, allowing Isaac to continue his reckless driving. He thought he had seen a tiny smirk on his pre-boot camp drill instructor, while Prime just snorted through his nose as if they had picked up some navy shit with their boots.

At least this time he knew where they would end up more than an hour later.

Gavin had made a point in putting on the tightest muscle top he owned. Of course, official marine regulations – and as a freshly minted lieutenant he was expected to follow them to every comma – forbade that kind of attire, but he was here to put his boot down, and that was best done by showing off his status.

Some months ago he was bonded to Colt, some weeks ago he got his commission. It was time to teach those old marines a lesson.

So there he stood in quasi-military pants (those used by CE’s and Sam’s army of fighters), a black wife-beater and his tan boots. Of course, the wife-beater was there to show off what he wanted to show off: first his lock. When on the compound he wore it. He missed it so much when on duty, so he was all the more proud to wear it now. Sometimes he thought his chest would explode because he displayed it so proudly. But a T-shirt would have allowed him to do that as well – so there was another reason for the violation of regulations: A tank top showed his tattoo, the Colt IC tattoo he had worked for for years was finally decorating his right shoulder, biceps, triceps, and pec. It was out there, ostentatiously in your face. Take that, fuckers!

The jeep came speeding, and Gavin enjoyed the slight surprise in Isaac and Prime’s scent when he stood there waiting as if the world belonged to him.

As usual Isaac stopped much too late, but Gavin knew his enforcer – yes ‘his’ – by now and didn’t flinch for a second when the crazy wolf just stopped 4 cm before his boots; actually, he was surprised about something else going on in the jeep.

“Morning, Prime,” Gavin wished cheerfully.

“Ready for our weekly trip?”

“Of course, Colt’s still sound asleep I assume?”

“It’s fucking 06hundred30, princess is deep in dreams cuddled to death by CE and Sam,” Prime giggled.

Gavin for second regretted not to be CE or Sam pushing aside the question what little Colt did with both big wolves in his bed at the same time risking to be squashed to the size of a book, but instead pointed out: “I see you guys are late.”

Isaac growled with displeasure. “Sir, this vehicle wasn’t fully operational.”

The blond lieutenant Beta couldn’t help smirking when he put himself in shotgun. For some reason, Prime had given up his privileged position in the riding party and put himself into the back. “Well, good that you fixed it.” He pointed at the little remnants of grease on Isaac’s hand. And Isaac understood. He could be chewed out for his lack of grooming right now. And Gavin just enjoyed not doing it for not being an ass but enjoying Isaac knowing that. The male power dynamics had changed. And once the wolves had integrated that into their actions, they could shape the new pack setup to best performance level possible. Colt didn’t deserve any less. And Gavin was too grateful to turn into an ass. But it was fun to pull Isaac’s metaphorical chains.

“And off you go,” the Beta ordered graciously.

Prime smiled in the back nearly like a well-fed cat.

And Isaac pointed out: “You know, Beta, there is only one guy in the Inner Circle who really pulls all our chains …”

“Literally,” Prime seconded lifting his chain as if knowing somebody was watching all of this.

Gavin nodded in quiet acceptance.

More than an hour later they arrived at their usual destination.

When they returned to Shadowlands, they dropped off their latest poolee, Eric. Finally, at home, the ultimate chain-puller was coincidentally waiting in the garage.

Prime, Gavin, and Isaac hopped out of the vehicle cheering. Within seconds they surrounded the Meta.

“Nice,” Colt stated while appreciating the strong hair on Prime’s head.

“Nothing beats a proper haircut,” Gavin added – with ‘proper’ meaning a tight ‘High ‘n’ Tight’ with wet-shaved walls, done by an expert certified by official USMC processes.

“Oorah!” Isaac seconded.

“Absolutely worth 90 minutes commute in either direction,” Colt stated with a smirk.

“Absolutely,” Gavin agreed, not taking the bait or commenting that their record was 65 minutes and 12 seconds.

“So you’re not going to introduce the new poolee to me?” Colt asked with feigned innocence.

“He needs to work on getting boot camp ready,” Isaac stated very matter-of-factly.

“And we need to keep him safe from certain pervs,” Prime pointed out with open mischief. “We’re not even going to ask how you know …”

Colt smiled clemently. “Seems though Enrico screwed up your high ‘n’ tight this time, Gavin …”

“Where?” was the screeching question. “Prime, what’s wrong with it …”

“I don’t see …”

“Isaac?” Gavin demanded like barking orders.

“Sir, …”

“Follow me!” Gavin ordered, and then both blond marines ran out of the garage up to Gavin’s bathroom to inspect the haircut like scared turkeys.

“You’re mean!” Prime shoved Colt gently on their way out.

“Maybe,” Colt whispered.

He knew Prime knew that Colt hadn’t slept too well this night. In his dream, he had seen what would have happened if he had died at 13.