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Who else can you trust?

Summary:

When you're hungry for a hero
I'll feed you sweet lies, but
Who else can you trust?

— Ivy Levan, “Who Can You Trust”


Private Thomas Paige learns the hard way that Captain Randall is not the only danger lurking in the Fort William garrison.

But luckily for his boy, he remains the biggest of them all.

Notes:

Once again fanks muchly to Darkness, who came up with some (a lot of) stuff you can find here, including my favourite Randall quote 😏💜

William Hawke is based on another William H. character who has similar levels of being a rapey fucking bastard. If you know what William and from what novel, I’ll kiss you on the lips.

More detailed content warnings in the end notes, as always.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Bonsoir, molly.”

Thomas was working in the stables, standing in for one of his mates, when he heard these words. He did not know what ‘bonsoir’ meant, but the meaning of the second word he knew all too well. He didn’t answer. In fact, he didn’t even turn to see this man — no superior would speak to him like that, save for Captain Randall, but it wasn’t Captain Randall’s voice.

“I’m talking to you, nancy-boy!” This man came closer and shoved Thomas, taking him by surprise. Thomas’s back hit the stable wall, making him yelp. He blinked and looked up to look at the assaulter. “What the fuck do you want?” he hissed, when the man came closer.

“Not sure yet,” the latter answered with a crooked smile. “Maybe first I want you to tell me if you bend over for Randall.”

Thomas froze. How did this bastard know? He was so scared and shocked that he only managed to mutter, “I have no idea what you’re talking about…”

“I think you do.” The other man was still smiling. “Now, did he take you by force or did you go with him willingly?”

Thomas was beginning to panic. “Get off me, for fuck’s sake!” That didn’t sound very convincing. He tried to push the attacker away, but to no avail. Private William Hawke had only an inch or two over Thomas, and slightly narrower shoulders. He didn’t seem stronger than Thomas, but bloody hell he was.

“I’ll make you my bitch now.” He yanked Thomas’s breeches down to mid-thigh. Thomas closed his eyes, trying to get ready for the pain.

But the pain did not come. Instead, Hawke bursted into laughter. “Fuck me!” he called. “You’re not even a little molly, you’re a lass!”

Thomas gritted his teeth. “I’m not a—”

“He’s right, private,” came a low growl from behind Hawke. Thomas didn’t think he’d someday be this glad to hear it. “He’s not a ‘lass’. He’s just a pretty lad with a cunt.”

Hawke turned around to look at Captain Randall, and it was the last thing he did before a rather vicious punch to the stomach made him double up. The Captain fisted his hand into William’s hair and tugged, bringing his face down against his knee. A loud crack of broken bones echoed through the stables. Hawke screamed. Randall unhanded his hair and let him collapse on the ground.

Thomas stepped over his would-be rapist and embraced the Captain with both arms. “Thank you,” he whispered into the fabric of his coat, “thank you, Sir. You saved me… he wanted to rape me, and you saved me, you—”

Randall’s hand petted his hair lazily. “Now, now, Tommy boy. Just don’t you start crying here.” Thomas, slowly realising what he’d done, stepped back, away from Randall, who was licking his lips. “Let’s get this straight, private,” he said sternly. “I did this for my benefit, not yours. The only one allowed to rape you is me.”

These words were like a punch to the stomach, as cruel as the one William received. Thomas felt prickling in the corners of his eyes.

Randall snorted. “Did you really think I did this because I care for you? Don’t be foolish, boy. I just rather dislike having my property touched by other men. Especially by men like private Hawke.” The Captain’s booted foot nudged William’s shoulder to make him lie flat on his back. “Do you take my meaning, Thomas?”

He nodded. He didn’t trust his voice.

“Good.” Randall smiled wickedly. “You left yourself open and weak, boy, I need to toughen you up. Now kick him.”

At first, Thomas thought he’d misheard the Captain’s words. “Begging pardon…?”

Randall just shrugged. “You heard the order, private. Kick him. And give it some effort, if you please.”

Thomas turned to William, still splayed out on the ground, and quickly fixed his messy uniform. Then, he drove his boot into the man’s ribs, pouring all his pain and anger into that kick. Hawke groaned.

“Atta lad.” Randall seemed pleased with the effort. “Again.”

Thomas obeyed.

Three kicks later, Captain Randall moved to stand next to him. He stood between Hawke’s legs and kicked them apart. Then, he pressed the very tip of his boot to the laying man’s crotch. William keened at the sudden pressure against his bollocks, making the Captain smile.

“Now,” Randall stepped back and turned to Thomas, “aim for the balls.”

The boy winced a little. I’d pity you, he thought, if you didn’t try to fuck me. If you didn’t call me a lass. But you should have known better than to touch Captain Randall’s property.

Thomas landed a kick between Hawke’s legs, making him curl up and howl with pain. He decided not to dwell on the fact that he’s just thought about himself as ‘Captain Randall’s property’.

“There’s a lad,” the Captain praised. “Again.”

Thomas obliged.

“Good.” Randall’s hand found Thomas’s shoulder in an encouraging pat. “That’s it, Tommy boy. Kick him in the stomach now. Watch how he’ll gag for air.”

Thomas kicked, and William Hawke coughed spasmodically, choking on it, desperate for breath. Thomas kicked again, this time out of his own volition. He wanted to hurt this man, to handsomely pay him back for what he did, for what he wanted to do; to make sure he wouldn’t try to hurt anyone ever again.

Next kick reached Hawke’s stomach again, and the one after that — his sternum. William was making small, choked sounds of pain, and Thomas was reveling in it, more than he wanted to admit. He stopped only when Captain Randall laid a hand on his arm.

“Kick him in the face, Tommy,” the garrison commander ordered in a surprisingly soft tone. “Try to rearrange his nose. Or knock some of his teeth out.”

Thomas smiled at Hawke, the ugliest smile he could manage, and obeyed, wincing a little at the gross sounds made by broken teeth and bones. The sight of private Hawke choking and coughing up blood made his belly tighten, both with disgust and… something else. He took a deep breath and tried to convince himself he wasn’t getting excited by this. Not at all.

Captain Randall crouched, grabbed Hawke by the hair and tugged, forcing him to look up. “Have you had enough?” he growled low in his throat.

“Yessir,” William mumbled through swollen lips.

Randall let go of his hair, allowing his head to hit the ground, and stood upright. “Well then, I think you’ve learned your lesson, for now. You’re lucky Tommy is still in training.” He grinned wolfishly. “Now get out, before any of us changes his mind, and don’t even think about touching my property again.”

“Yessir.” Hawke scrambled to leave, wanting nothing more than to get out of the Captain’s sight, and limped through the stable door.

Thomas was alone with Randall. Now, when it was over, all tension left his body and he almost lost his balance, staggering as his knees buckled. He had to lean against the wall to avoid a tumble. He hazily realised how much his whole body was trembling.

The next thing he knew was Randall’s hands all over him, and Randall’s voice in his ear, shushing him with unusual gentleness. “It’s alright, boy, you did so well,” he praised. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re my little boy, right, Tommy?”

Thomas murmured a weak confirmation into the Captain’s shoulder.

“My brave boy.” Randall didn’t stop stroking him. “Tell me, lad, did it excite you, showing that big man his place? It certainly did to me, seeing you so ferocious.”

He moaned quietly at these words, and felt his cheeks flush hot with embarrassment. “It did, Sir. A—a little…” The answer slipped uninvited past his lips.

A little?” Randall purred, kissing the top of his head. “You’re so cute, Tommy boy.”

They were so close Thomas could feel Captain Randall’s half-hard cock pressed against his lower abdomen. It took all of his self-control not to start grinding against the other man’s crotch.

But Randall didn’t order him to kneel nor bend over. Instead, he took a step back and regarded Thomas with a cold look in his eyes. “Collect yourself, private,” he said matter-of-factly, his voice so very different from the affectionate purr it was mere moments ago. “And it’d do you well to be more careful henceforward.”

Thomas’s body reflexively stood at attention. “Yes, Sir!”

Randall chuckled, “Good boy,” turned on his heel and headed to the door, leaving Thomas completely alone.

It took five deep, slow breaths to overcome the urge to just burst out crying. He mustn’t have done that. He mustn’t. He’d be a better soldier now, a tougher man, never leaving himself so weak and exposed like this ever again. He’d prove himself to Captain Randall, show this man that he could be a worthy soldier.

He’d make the Captain proud. Someday.

Notes:

  • Thomas’s genitals are referred to as cunt.
  • Thomas gets called a girl and homophobic slurs are used to refer to him, but not by Randall.

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