Karl looks up from his glass at the guy next to him and frowns a bit, just enough to wrinkle his forehead for a moment before he shrugs. "Why should it?"

"They call you 'farm boy'."

"It's what I am." Karl shrugs and turns back to his glass, emptying it in one long swallow. He can still feel the other guy's eyes on him, so he sets the glass down and looks back. "What?"

"Well, they're being derogatory. They think you're an idiot."

"Ah." Karl nods and catches the bartender's eye, tapping his glass for a refill. "But just because they think it, it doesn't make it true."

"But the military is about perception, and they perceive you to be an idiot."

Karl smiles at the bartender then at the dark haired guy, swallowing down the contents of his glass smoothly before setting the glass back on the bar and getting to his feet. "Let 'em. They'll just be even more surprised when I wipe their asses all over the floor."

Karl looks up as a few of the girls whistle, their attention turned away from the battle plan in front of them. He notices the dark-haired guy from the bar and hides his smile as he turns his head back down to the schematics.

"What are you smiling about, Agathon?"

He looks up at Maggie and grins, winking at her. "Relishing victory, Mags."

"We haven't won yet."

"We will." He points to the weak spot in the enemy flank. "They're loosening up their forces here thinking we won't attack from behind. They're expecting us to concentrate all our firepower on the front line."

"And we're not gonna?" Maggie raises an eyebrow and then looks back at the plans. After a moment, her smile spreads, and he's pretty sure she's what a goddess would look like, if goddesses got down in the mud and wrestled with you over the last porn magazine and chocolate in the stash. "No. We're not gonna. We're going to leave a token force on the front line, let them think they've overrun us and then wonder where the hell the rest of us are while we decimate them from behind." She nods and taps the plans. "Sodomy as war game. I like it."

Karl laughs. "I thought you might."

The barracks are quiet as Karl makes his way to the showers, covered in mud and grass and paint and blood, though he's not sure whose blood it is. Their ground assault exercise turned vicious as the ranking officers realized they'd been outmaneuvered and outthought by a bunch of frakking cadets, not to mention by a whore's daughter and a farm hand. It took them a while to get what had happened, and it wasn't until Maggie had walked up to Kara Frakking Thrace and shot her with the paintball gun that it sunk in. Of course, that was right about the time Kara slammed Maggie to the ground and the free-for-all really started.

"You're limping."

"I'm also hurting, possibly bleeding, and due in the Admiral's office first thing in the morning." Karl looked up at the dark haired guy. "You're Zak Adama."

"That I am."

"Guess you know all about how people perceive other people then, huh?"

Zak shrugs, his eyebrows going up in time with his shoulders. "Nepotism works in mysterious ways. Of course, my older brother got the worst of it. Everyone expected him to be Husker. I just have to live up to a God, not a Legend."

Karl laughs. "You didn't warn your girlfriend."

"Nope." Zak falls in step with him, heading toward the showers.

"Why not?"

"She should have known better. She did know better, which is why she's pissed off. She knew better, but she didn't think you did. She underestimated the enemy, and it cost her."

"You're not going to tell her you knew better."

"Nope." Zak smiles. "Kara needed to work on her battle instincts. My survival instincts are just fine."

Karl steps out of the shower, surprised to see Zak still sitting there on the bench, leaning back against the bank of lockers. "You bored, Adama?"

"My girlfriend's in worse shape than you are." Zak's eyes are hard to read as he sweeps his gaze up and down Karl's body. "Edmondson got her good."

"Maggie's in the brig for that." Karl tugs the towel free from around his waist and dries off his back and shoulders. "Got a little carried away."

"They don't like each other much," Zak agrees, his eyes still on Karl as he dries off. "You and Maggie a thing?"

"Maggie'd cut off your balls if you suggested something like that to her face." He scrubs his face with the towel then reaches down to the dark hair at the apex of his thigh, rubbing it roughly over his thighs, cock and balls. "Maggie's nobody's girl."

"Didn't ask that." Zak catches the edge of the towel and tugs it away, letting it pool on the floor as he slides over on the bench, spreading his legs so that Karl's body is framed between them. "Asked if you were frakking her."

Karl looks down at Zak, watching with hot eyes as Zak licks his lips and leans in and nuzzles the swelling head of Karl's cock. Karl swallows hard, bracing himself on the bank of lockers. "Not at this moment."

Zak laughs softly and licks the wet slit of the head. "Good enough for me."

Karl groans as Zak's mouth closes around him, tight and wet and hot. His teeth scrape lightly over the sensitive skin near the base and the world narrows to friction and tension and heat. Karl scrapes his fingers raw against the vents in the locker, searching for something to hold on to as Zak blows him.

He's done this before - no one comes through the Academy without giving and getting at least one late night blowjob - but there's something different about the fact that it's Zak Frakking Adama sucking him off. Maybe it's the fact that half the tactics Karl knows he learned from lessons based around Bill Adama's battle plans, or maybe it's the fact that Karl's first blowjob as a cadet was given to Zak's older brother in the back of the hangar deck in the dark, smelling of grease and oil and sweat and come.

Zak growls low in his throat, taking Helo deeper and the sharp coppery scent of blood fills the air as Helo slices his hand on the locker vent. He curses under his breath, his hips jerking forward, thrusting into Zak's willing mouth. Zak makes another noise, something like a laugh as he sucks him down, mouth tight and demanding around Karl's prick.

"Frak. Gods." Karl's other hand settles on Zak's head, tangling in his dark hair. Zak's mouth tightens even further and Helo can feel the hint of teeth again. Zak's nails dig into Karl's hips then release, his hands sliding back to cup Karl's ass and pull him closer. Karl groans, muttering a half-remembered prayer or curse his mother used to offer up, tightening his fingers in Zak's hair as Zak's hands squeeze lightly, fingers brushing along the crack, ghosting over it with the promise of more.

Karl comes hard, hips jerking forward. It's like free-fall for a moment as Zak's mouth releases him and then tightens again, sucking hard on the head as Karl's body spasms with his release. His nails dig into the back of Zak's scalp, leaving crescent moons in his skin until Zak gasps around him and pulls back, forcing Karl to let him go.

Zak leans back, his head against the lockers, his hands splayed on his thighs, framing the bulge in his loose workout pants. His voice is a low drawl, tinged with something Karl is pretty sure is mocking. "C'mere, farm boy."

Karl looks at him for a long moment, leaning in and reaching past him to snag his own pants out of his bag. He tugs them on; his eyes never leaving Zak. "Why would I do that?"

Zak's eyes narrow. "Pardon me?"