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It took Char an embarrassingly long time to realize that his plan to win over Garma Zabi had worked significantly better than expected.
Char knew how to be charming when he wanted to be—a little bit of flattery here, a little bit of teasing there, taking the odd moment to show concern. Someone like Garma would have spent his whole life surrounded by brown-nosers, so conversely, being a bit cheeky had seemed to be the better tactic. After just a few months, Char was confident he had Garma's trust as a friend.
So perhaps it shouldn't have been surprising. Something about the way Garma laughed, more like a giggle, the way he twirled his hair and then yanked his hand away as if he were self-conscious about it, the way his eyes lingered on Char a little too long before jerking away when Char looked back.
Char just hadn't been paying attention. At that point, he'd been allotting a fixed level of mental resources to sucking up to Garma, while the majority of his free time, he spent on extra training in piloting simulators.
Somehow, it wasn't until Char came back to their dorm room one evening after a shower and noticed Garma blatantly staring at his naked torso that it clicked.
Garma had a crush on him. He actually had a full-blown, teenage, heart-fluttery pastel-colored crush on Char.
Char hadn't even considered this option before. He wasn't even interested in men, in the first place. Sure, he had a certain admiration for certain male celebrities with nice physique, but that just wasn't the same thing. Garma was certainly very pretty, and if you put a gun to Char's head and told him he had to fuck him, Char wasn't going to have a problem getting it up. He was certainly not averse to using this angle to achieve his ends.
He wanted to laugh. Just think of all the things he could do.
That night, his mind raced with fantasies of every stripe—raping Garma violently and making him suffer, or maybe making Garma fall in love with him and killing him mid-coitus, or perhaps keeping him alive long enough to make a speech about what a vile piece of trash his father was, or perhaps to tie him up, fuck him like a whore, film the whole thing, and send his father the recording of his baby son moaning the name “Casval!” as he came.
...That last one was particularly delicious.
That night, Char came harder than he ever had in his life into his own hand, and he did not make a move on Garma.
Instead, the next day, he decided to get a girlfriend.
He'd never gotten one before, but how hard could it be? Just go up to an appropriate girl and talk to her, show an interest in her life, and be persistent.
And sure enough, Char had a girlfriend within the week. Her name was Nerri, and she was uninteresting, but competent, well-liked, and physically attractive.
Char didn't do anything so crass as to announce it to Garma, of course. He just sneaked Nerri back to his dorm one evening and let Garma “happen” to walk in on them as Char had an arm around her waist and his lips on hers.
Char just watched out the corner of his eyes as Garma froze at the door. To his credit, his eyes revealed a trace of hurt for only an instant before smoothing over with an exasperated sigh. “...I would have thought you'd know better than to break the dorm rules in my room.”
That flash of hurt was more potent than any wine Char had ever sipped, and he was instantly drunk on it, pulling away from Nerri with a smug grin. “Quite the opposite. Isn't this the best place to break the dorm rules?”
“What are you trying to imply?” Garma stepped forward, tone clipped—and Nerri was smart enough that she chose this moment to slip away from both of them and scamper out the open door behind Garma's back with a mumbled sorry.
“I'm not implying a thing,” Char shook his head as he raised his hands in surrender. “I think we both know you would never do a thing that would earn the disapproval of your family,” he said—and he'd meant it to be sarcastic, but either it came out a too sarcastic, or Garma was getting to know him too well, as Garma's eyes narrowed.
“Are you calling me a—a goody two-shoes?” Garma scowled, one hand rising to fiddle with his hair.
“I don't need to call you anything,” was all Char said, leaving the rest unstated—because you know what you are. “Are you going to rat me out, then?”
“Of course not!” Garma spat, then turned away so Char couldn't see his face. “I'm not going to sell out a friend. What you do with your time is your business. I just don't need to see your hanky-panky when I'm trying to come back to the dorm to rest.” And then he strode out of the door again as if he hadn't really wanted to come back, anyway.
Char watched him go with a growing smile on his lips before throwing himself down on his bunk and chuckling to himself.
x x x
After that, Char arranged it so that he and Nerri were together in Garma's presence as much as possible.
Not doing anything overt. Technically speaking, dating was not allowed at the academy, though of course on the down low, everyone did it. It was just a matter of being discreet. And after that initial incident in the dorm room, Char kept it subtle. He would just make sure it was seen that he was chatting with her, lightly touching her arm or shoulder, smiling at her, complimenting her, or selecting her as a partner when the opportunity arose in a joint exercise.
And then out of the corner of his eye, every time, he'd be watching Garma's reaction.
The cute thing about Garma was that he did his absolute best to act cool and in control, but he was in fact exactly the opposite. Raised as pampered as he was, he was used to being the best at everything, and to having people deliberately defer and lose to him either out of desire to curry favor or to avoid retaliation, and so he would never truly once in his life have experienced jealousy.
Oh, there was pleasure to be had in crushing Garma in every single test, athletically and academically, but this was something else. It was made ever so much sweeter by the fact that Garma clearly thought of himself as incredibly handsome and desirable, and saw it as a personal insult when someone wouldn't be swayed by his pretty face, soft skin, well-groomed hair, and hands too delicate for a soldier. How infuriated Garma must be to be so pointedly ignored. The salt burning in the back of Garma's eyes as he bit back a sneer would flavor Char's meals for years.
Look. I would even take the most mediocre, unremarkable woman over you, Char told him without words, day after day.
“Are you all right, Garma?” Char turned to him with fake concern one day in their shared dorm. “You seem upset with me lately.”
Garma laughed back at him, clipped, sharp. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Come on, no need to be coy with me.”
“You're accusing me of being coy?” Garma scoffed. “All right, then.”
A week after that, Garma got a girlfriend.
Char didn't realize what had happened, at first. He saw some girl in Garma's presence a number of times, witnessed them chatting and smiling at one another. It wasn't until he happened to catch them in a corner standing particularly close, with Garma's hand cupping her jaw, that Char realized just what their relationship was.
“Oh, pardon me for interrupting,” Char said as the two of them jolted and turned to look at him. The way Garma looked back at him with clearly manufactured surprise, Char started to wonder if Garma had engineered this situation so that Char would discover them. Was he trying to make Char jealous? Char had to hold back a smile.
“A-ah, Char,” Garma blushed, reaching up to fiddle with his hair. “I hope you won't tell anyone...”
“Why would I do that? You're my best friend,” Char said with a friendly clap on his shoulder. “Your secret is safe with me.”
x x x
It had been two months since Garma had begun dating that girl.
Char was sitting at a cubicle in the library, staring blankly at a book on reactor technology that he wasn't reading, bouncing one leg as he stabbed his cheek with his pen.
How long did Garma intend to keep up with this charade? He was wasting a hell of a lot of time on that girl. Char had found a suitable excuse to dump his own girlfriend long ago, once he realized she was occupying time he could be spending on training.
Did he actually think he was going to make Char jealous, like this? He hadn't even particularly pulled anything dramatic, and most of the time he kept his relationship lowkey in public. Char only knew the details because Garma talked about her when they were in their dorm, his eyes constantly flicking over to Char like he wanted to see Char's reaction to everything he said.
It couldn't be that Garma was legitimately interested in dating this girl. That was out of the question. She had a pretty face, but she was an entirely boring person, and more to the point, Char would stick his dick in a Zaku reactor before he believed that Garma had ever or would ever be interested in women. No, this had to be an extended ploy on Garma's part.
Char's suspicions were finally confirmed when he returned to their shared dorm earlier than usual one evening—he'd forgotten some of his notes—to walk into a scene that most certainly had been staged.
Char walked into the dorm to see Garma fully naked over his girlfriend, hands on the bed at her sides with her legs spread wide and eyes closed, buried balls-deep in her cunt.
Garma didn't even notice at first, when Char stepped in.
Garma's face was flushed, eyes closed, lips swollen and parted, his soft, purplish hair in disarray, with sweat streaking down his chest. Char's eyes immediately went to downward to where Garma's cock was sliding in and out of the girl's cunt, his pace gentle and in time with the breathy sighs coming from the both of them.
Then the floor creaked under Char's feet, and Garma's eyes flew open.
When his eyes met with Char's, they widened slightly, letting out a gasp that sounded like Char's name. His eyes locked on Char's for an infinitely long moment before lowering slightly, and when Char realized what Garma was looking at, he flushed hot, but hid it with a hand scratching his cheek and a turn of his head before stepping out of the dorm again without a word, sticking one hand in his pocket to adjust his erection in his pants as he stalked in indignant fury down the hall at this blatant humiliation.
x x x
Garma was so smug after that—usually, Garma was half bluster and bravado, shoving his test grades in Char's face on the odd occasion when he got something half a point higher, or showing off expensive presents from his family like the gold wristwatch engraved with the Zeon logo he'd dropped on Char because he was bored with it, or engaging in pointless competitions with him like running to grab the only free simulator console in the computer room.
But lately, Garma had been strangely nice. When Char got sick, he put in a special order at the cafeteria for rice porridge, and brought him his meal in his room, and when Char got in trouble for skipping a class, Garma covered for him by making up excuses. Char had anticipated that getting close to a member of the Zabi family would bring bonuses, but he hadn't necessarily been expecting this sort of treatment.
But Garma still hadn't dumped his girlfriend.
It wasn't as if he'd stopped looking at Char. He always pretended he wasn't looking when Char came in after a shower, his head turned away, but he'd be watching out of the corners of his eyes as Char dried himself off or dropped his towel on the floor, revealing his full form for Garma's view. Char took to touching Garma unnecessarily more often, letting his hands linger on Garma's shoulder or thigh, and Garma always pretended he didn't notice, but he never shook it off, either, even the time when Char carded his hands through Garma's hair with the excuse, “you had a piece of tape stuck in it.”
It was time to try more aggressive methods.
Garma, being a privileged elite, had a special dorm with a bathroom and shower attached, so he didn't have to go to the common showers like everyone else. Of course Char was free to use the facilities as well.
So this time, Char decided to “carelessly” leave the door to the bathroom cracked open just slightly, with the shower door half-open, so that if Garma so chose (which he would) then he would be able to get a peek in.
Even with the noise of the shower going, Char's sharp ears did not miss the sound of the floorboards outside the bathroom door creaking. Char kept his face turned toward the flow of water from the faucet while he made sure his body was angled in such a way that Garma would be able to see his hands traveling down his soapy body, washing his chest and arms before going to his dick to...clean more than was strictly necessary.
There was no further noise from outside the bathroom door, but Char didn't need to hear anything to know. He rubbed himself to hardness with a slick, soapy hand, and figuring he'd add it for good measure, just so that Garma would think Char was thinking about him, he murmured just barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of the shower, “Garma...”
That night, when they were both in their bunks in the dark, Char heard the telltale sound of soft rustling under the blankets, and knowing Garma was thinking about him while beating off, he smiled a smug smile before falling asleep to sweet dreams.
x x x
Char had thought for sure that his shower move would prompt Garma to some kind of action, but all month, there was nothing.
Nothing. He didn't say anything, do anything.
But then again, that was like Garma. He was patient with his games. So Char waited to see his next move.
And then it came, finally, when Garma, Char, and three other guys were out on a camping survival training exercise, and at the end of the third day when they were all sitting around the fire after eating their dinner of rations and fish caught from the river, the discussion turned to your typical sort of guy talk.
That is to say, dick jokes, discussions of who they had fucked and who they would fuck, that sort of thing.
Char wasn't terribly interested in this sort of conversation, so he excused himself to take watch and relieve the guy before him. Part of this exercise involved a surprise attack that would be coming at some point.
Right when he reached their watch point up on the high ground close to the river, though, he realized he'd forgotten his radio, and so dipped back to go grab it.
Right before he returned to the campfire, when he was still hidden behind some underbrush, however, he happened to overhear the guys talking.
It seemed it was part of a conversation along the lines of, “If you were stuck for months in space on a ship with nothing but guys around would you suck a dick” with various statements along the lines of “but well, a blowjob is a blowjob” and “Nah way dude.”
And then one of the guys brought up Char.
“You think Char would?”
“What, suck a dick or get sucked off?”
“Either.”
“I dunno, I don't wanna think about it!”
“You're friends with him, what do you think, Garma?”
There was a brief silence before Garma said, “Oh, I think he would.”
There was some hooting before one of the guys said, “Wait, which one?”
“...I think he would service me if I asked, honestly. He kind of seems like...” Garma seemed to be communicating something with his facial expressions and gestures, as the guys all laughed.
“Don't let him hear that!” And then more laughter.
After quietly and surreptitiously grabbing his radio, Char spent the rest of his watch in a fury, devising ways to humiliate Garma.
x x x
After spending the whole exercise pissed off, when they were finally back in their dorm, Char was done screwing around.
Garma showered first, like always, and Char second—he showered quickly, stepping out to see Garma seated on his bed, unpacking and putting away his things from the trip. Garma looked up when Char stepped toward him, but then looked back down at his bags again.
Char wouldn't let Garma ignore him, though. “Garma,” he said, stepping close enough that he was in Garma's space but not touching. Garma looked up at him again, flushed slightly, and then slid his eyes back over to his bags as he said, “Yes?”
Char didn't say anything at first, just standing in Garma's space for a long moment, letting him get flustered before he repeated his name again. “Garma.”
Garma looked up at him again, his flush deepening. “What?”
Char leaned on the bunk over Garma's head, his position forcing Garma to look up at him. “Don't you have something you want to tell me?”
Garma's lips opened and fluttered a moment, his throat visibly swallowing before he replied, “Huh? I don't know what you're talking about.” His eyes were very firmly away from Char's chest and on the wall.
“Really.” Char dropped one hand on Garma's shoulder and let it lie there. “Nothing at all.”
“...I-it sounds like you have something to say, Char,” Garma challenged him with a glare.
“Honestly, I thought you had more guts than this,” Char said, hand squeezing Garma's shoulder just slightly. “I'm a little disappointed that you can't seem to admit it.”
“Guts to admit what, exactly?”
Char leaned in close, bringing his lips to Garma's ear to whisper, “that you're in love with me.”
What he wasn't expecting was for Garma to burst out laughing. “Aha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Wait, you—no, aha-ha-ha-ha!”
Char pulled back, but his smug smile never wavered. “Come on, Garma. I see the way you look at me—”
“Char, Char,” Garma said, giggling as he wiped a tear from his eye. “I know you're proud, but you don't have to be this shy. If you want to just admit that you love me—”
“What?” Char jerked back like he'd been shot.
“Don't you try to play dumb now,” Garma folded his arms smugly, grinning to himself. “That day you walked in on Francess and I, I knew it. The way you looked at me—and you were so angry after that, always slapping off any invitation. You were obviously jealous.”
Char's mouth opened and closed wordlessly for a moment before he got his bearings again and scoffed. “Excuse me? I was just annoyed that you were playing games with me, staging that whole event in attempt to make me jealous—”
“Did you think that was staged?”
“Am I supposed to believe that Garma Zabi, the prettiest, most flouncing twink at this whole academy, would ever be even slightly interested in sex with a woman?”
Garma sputtered, rising to his feet, pushing back Char as he did so. “Excuse me? You stare at me every time I come out of the shower, you're constantly coming up with excuses to touch me, and you want to accuse me of being a queer?” And then the look of irritation on his face transformed into catlike grin. “And did you just call me pretty?”
“Yes yes, you're very pretty, Garma, did you need another compliment to pad your ego further?”
“Char.”
“I know you're entirely convinced everyone here is wrapped around your little finger because of your status and your good looks, but someone around here has to assure you that you're really not—”
“Char.”
Char didn't even realize that he was flushing until Garma's cool hand was on his cheek and Garma's lips were on his.
There was a moment of frozen time as Garma's lips moved softly against his and Char struggled to catch up with what had just happened.
And then Char was shoving Garma back to his bunk, his bath towel dropping to the floor as his hands went to the waistband of Garma's pyjamas, yanking them down.
“Char—” Garma gasped into his mouth, but Char didn't give him even a moment's breath, stripping the pyjama bottoms off him to push him onto his back and bring his lips straight down to Garma's half-hard cock.
Garma bucked into his mouth on contact, but Char held his hips down, letting Garma's cock grow to fill his mouth and hit the back of his throat. Char gagged a little, unused to the sensation, backing off a moment before filling his mouth again, wanting to taste every inch.
“Char,” Garma breathed, and Char could get hard just from his voice alone. “Ah... I knew you wanted me...”
Char pulled back, lips popping off Garma's cock, as his very sweetest, kindest, most charming smile came to his lips. “Roll over, Garma,” he said, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Huh? Okay...” Garma complied, and Char grabbed his hips, yanking his ass back to rub his own erection against the cleft a moment before getting as much spit on his hand as he could, slicking up his dick to prod Garma's asshole with it.
“Ah, wait, Char, that's—nnn, ahhhh!” Garma dropped forward, clawing at the sheets as Char thrust all the way into him with no preparation. “That hurts—” Garma gasped.
“It's supposed to hurt, at first,” Char panted out, his fingers spitefully tight on Garma's hips. It felt good to have Garma on his knees before him like a dog, whimpering. It was going straight to Char's cock, turning the burning chafe of the friction around his cock into a more thrilling pleasure.
He wasn't going to let Garma win this. Garma was in love with him, he was wrapped around Char's finger, not the other way around. Having Garma on all fours in front of him was all a part of the plan—he'd only ever been in this for spite and revenge, and nothing else.
Garma was utterly at his mercy. Char could do anything he wanted with him. Garma was his, even without firing a single shot into his flesh.
Garma was burying his face in the pillow to smother his moans as Char fucked him roughly, but Char grabbed him by his hair, yanking him backward to bring Garma's back against his chest and fuck him close and deep. “Are you embarrassed?” He whispered in Garma's ear, and was rewarded with a full-body shiver. “Garma Zabi, son of Degwin Sodo Zabi, getting fucked in the ass by a man.”
Char could see Garma's profile, see how flushed he was, his bit lip as he tried to smother the helpless sounds he was making. “Stop it, Char.”
“What, stating the facts?” Char rolled his hips, wrapping his arm around Garma's chest as his tongue slid around the shell of Garma's ear. “Not very befitting of a Zabi man. I wonder what your big sister Kycilia would think, to know her darling little brother likes to be humiliated like this.” On the cock of Casval Rem Deikun, no less, Char added silently to himself. “What if your daddy knew his son was a faggot?” Char punctuated that remark by bringing his hand around to grab Garma's cock and squeeze, making Garma let out a choked whimper as he closed his eyes in shame.
“Shut up, I like women, this is just—”
“Let's see how much you can keep lying to yourself when I make you cum on my cock?” Char whispered in his ear, entirely sweetly and without any venom at all as he pounded into Garma's ass painfully, throwing him down onto the bed again so he could slap his ass while he fucked him on all fours, knowing Garma would find it humiliating.
“Char!” Garma cried out, his tone protesting, but his hand was on his own cock, stroking himself in time with Char's thrusts, and it wasn't long before his tight hole was spasming around Char and Garma was shuddering into the bed and cumming—Char kept slapping his ass and slamming into him, Garma's cries of pain taking him to his own climax, his own cum easing the dry burn between them as it oozed out while Char continued to rock inside him, riding out his orgasm.
“Char, Char,” Garma was still moaning, arching back to press against Char's hips.
And it should have felt like a victory, but the Garma's heat underneath him was crawling up through his cock and stomach and chest to his throat to choke him, and Char couldn't help but feel like he'd lost, he'd been played.
Fingers gripping bruisingly tight on Garma's hips, Char slumped forward over Garma's back to kiss the back of his neck to wordlessly excuse himself for his roughness, and to concede that he had lost this battle.