GRU Barracks, Part 3 -> The East Wing

[charushkin.livejournal.com]

Matvei had helped Sergei along with his bad leg, determined they should get their fair chance to inflict as much embarrassment on Borishnakov as when they had each been forced to do the circuit.

And now, they had a damned good front-row seat of the hilarity.


Laughing, he slapped Sergei appreciatively on the shoulder at the size of the audience amassed: Major Raikov seemed casually amused at the Ocelots staggering in, but he was pacing across the floor like a lion waiting to be released into the gladiatorial arena, and his unit had filled up the entirety of the second-floor bridge.

That was to be expected, but they had taken the base of the stairs, which meant they could observe firsthand whether or not Raikov took a shine to their new recruit.

"I bet," Matvei said to Sergei amidst all the cheer, "that our Vladya will manage to dodge Raikov's signature move."

He laughed, flopping onto his shoulder. "God, I'm glad we only had to do this once."

Matvei could hardly forget it.

After being thoroughly scared senseless, plied with drink, and making several trips in and out the banya for his uniform, when he'd been thrown to Major Raikov he'd been paralysed... which had been very bad for him, but it did help to kick in the instinct to run.

And Raikov, mercifully, had shown very little interest in him. That had been lucky. He'd not been at his best, and by the time he'd finished the run, he was swaying with tiredness; at which point a certain good-natured comrade had kindly relieved him from the celebrations as soon as was acceptable, and taken him to his new quarters...

He shook his head, and it occurred to him. "Where's our Andrei?" He asked his friend, looking around, with a little frown.

Comments

[capt-kasya.livejournal.com]

Kassian snorted. The whole thing was probably dreamed up but some drunken young soldiers who were bored and felt like being cruel.

Children who pulled the wings off of bugs and watched the following frantic spasms.

He just shook his head and sighed. The night was getting long, and the alcohol was burning off. He felt a little restless, and ready for some groping of his own.

Kassian looked sidelong at Isaev.

Another cheer rose up, breaking his concentration. Borishnakov was coming out for another pass, looking so determined Kassian could tell he wouldn't fall for the same trick twice. He just intended to run, and keep running, until the whole thing was over with.

He found his attention on the whole spectacle fading, and didn't even watch the outcome of Borishnakov's next face-off with Raikov.

Leaning into Isaev companionably, he murmured by the lieutenant's ear. "How much longer will it last, Isaev? What happens after this? If the night goes on too much longer, I'll probably fall asleep."

Kassian's mouth twitched.

[andrei-isaev.livejournal.com]

"If this night goes on much longer I'll chew my own hand off and mail it to Chisinau," muttered Andrei, who was beginning to think Borishnakov was going to be trouble.

They didn't need a sullen contrarian.

Irinarhov, on the other hand, was certainly coming around to the idea of Ocelotude and brotherhood. Isaev found the hairs on the back of his neck a little stiffer than they were before the casual sussuration.

"This is the last ordeal," he said. "Then everyone goes their separate ways. Most to sleep, some to drink and fuck and fight."

He shrugged.

"You know where I'll be. Of course, how long the night goes on is up for negtiation," Andrei added enigmatically.

[capt-kasya.livejournal.com]

"Don't worry," Kassian said. "When I have something engaging to focus on, I can stay up a long time."

He paused, and looked at Isaev sidelong. "Stay awake, I meant, of course."

A cheer rose up from the crowd again, but he didn't look to see if it was in Raikov's favor, or Borishnakov's.

Even the packed throng bothered him less. He and Isaev could be the only ones in the room right now.

Except, of course, they weren't.

Not yet.

But the thought of it was enough to make his stomach tighten in anticipation. Idly and casually, the back of his hand grazed Isaev's hip but he cut off the errant gesture there, lest he stray elsewhere.

All in good time.

[vladya-yamirich.livejournal.com]

In retrospect, it should have been obvious that the shirt was a trap, and Vladislav felt incredibly foolish for falling for it.

However, after he managed to get free of Raikov he was very sure not to get grabbed again.

Fear was a wonderful motivation for running faster, and with the alcohol in his system the remaining laps passed in a strange blur of uniforms and hallways.

He was incredibly embarrassed about what had happened on that one lap, grateful it had occurred where no one had been watching. Vladislav silently promised himself he would never reveal what had happened there.

[andrei-isaev.livejournal.com]

"Thank god that's over. I didn't get drunk enough for this," remarked Andrei, rubbing his brow.

He glanced at Sergei and Matvei.

"Could you make sure he shows up for the morning jog, chuvaki? I'm sure he'll be tired."

He was ready to call it a night.

Judging from Vladislaus' weary but triumphant expression, the new recruit felt the same.

"Hope Raikov got his kicks," he added, straightening his beret as the crowd began to disperse.

Andrei turned to Irinarhov.

"You should go," he said, in a low voice. "I'll come calling once there's not so much...scrutiny, comrade."

[capt-kasya.livejournal.com]

Kassian nodded. "I'll see you then, Isaev," he murmured.

His tone was casual but his look was anything but.

He met Isaev's gaze for only a moment, though, before he stepped back and faded into the crowd, just another Ocelot who'd had too much to drink making his way back to his barracks.

Strange. The night wasn't even over yet - his stomach fluttered at the thought - but after the day he'd had, he was already feeling like it was true.

Just another Ocelot.

[gurlukovich.livejournal.com]

The rest of the run had been almost tiring; Sergei had become worn out just watching it, and by the end he was so ready to sleep that he'd stopped worrying about Ocelot.

Despite that, he turned dutifully to face Isaev when he requested that they see that the new blood made it the next morning. Nodding, a tad drowsy, he turned to Matvei while covering his mouth with his hand as he yawned.

"Let's get to bed," he muttered, grabbing for his bunkmate's wrist as he headed for the doors that would take them out of the East Wing.