Chapter 35
The Long Beach pulled into the dry dock smoothly, and I stood watching in amazement as water was pumped out, leaving the huge cruiser resting on supports, with her underside touching air for the first time in years. From my vantage point on the O-3 level forward I watched the gangplank being lowered into place once the ship was stabilized and looked for the blond-haired figure that I knew was waiting to cross. I still couldn't see him, and I was almost antsy with anticipation of the longed-for reunion.
It had been six very long months and I was finally going to get to see Brian again.
Today was exactly six months from the day the Battle of Kuwait had begun, and while the ship was pulling into the dry dock in Diego Garcia's harbor, the battle still raged on in Kuwait. The Marine and Army forces were holding on still, along with the Kuwait and Saudi allied forces, but it was anything except an easy battle. At the beginning, we'd been outnumbered twenty to one on the ground, but now that number was down to about ten to one.
Part of the problem was the Soviet reinforcements of the Iraqi and Iranian air forces. Another part of the problem was the massive submarine forces now hunting the Indian Ocean, all re-supplied from the Soviet forward base in Aden, Yemen. Despite our early naval victories, no carrier had yet managed to safely enter the region, and even moving ships from Diego Garcia north, or south from the Gulf, was a huge risk. We'd lost a Knox-class frigate and Adams-class destroyer just getting here. Last week we'd lost two supply ships and three more frigates.
Kuwait City was still free, but most of the countryside belonged to Iraq. Four trips of troops and equipment had made the run through the Straits of Hormuz and up to the embattled city. Six thousand soldiers hadn't made it when their ships were sunk by Soviet subs. Another four hundred died when their ship had been hit by air-launched cruise missiles from Backfire bombers.
One hundred and forty more American fighter planes had been moved to the region, but air superiority was still far from being achieved. Every day, air battles were waged over the skies, gunboats sneaked into naval lines and attacked our ships, and diesel submarines were now a threat in the entire gulf region. The shallow depth prevented nuclear subs from operating safely, but the Russians had plenty of diesel-electric subs that used the shallow water to sneak in without being detected by American sonar designed to pick up subs in deep water.
The mind-numbing fear of those days in the gulf were not easily shaken off, but while I waited to see that familiar blond head, they felt far, far away. The ship I was on had fought long and hard, proving just why the U.S. Navy loved nuclear cruisers. While other ships had been forced back to port or supply convoys for more fuel, all we needed was ammunition and food. Even food had been scarce a few times, but as long as our ammunition held out, we were in the fight. The ship's hull showed the effects of six long months in a battle zone, though, and that was why we were in dry dock now.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Lt. Commander McManus, the Assistant Weapons Officer asked me as the last of the water flowed out of the dock. I just nodded my head. Over the last few months he'd become part friend, part older brother, and part mentor. He was a tall man whose dark black hair showed no signs of going gray despite being in his mid-thirties. He had a stomach that was slightly larger than the military liked, and a wide smile that was at odds with the perpetually scowling Weapons Officer he served under.
"Yeah, I can't believe the ship fit in this thing." I said as I leaned over the rail and looked down the starboard side of the ship. Besides the huge mass of twisted, blackened metal where the aft superstructure had been, there were pockmarks from grenade damage, bullet holes from machine guns, the flag bridge windows were still knocked out, and the inside blackened by fire after the gunboat had fired four rocket grenades into it about two months ago. I knew there was more damage to the stern, and the propellers, from when the ship's torpedo decoy had gotten the incoming torpedo to detonate prematurely. There was a submarine silhouette on the ship's hull from the two Mk. 46 torpedoes that had sunk the diesel sub after it had shot at us.
"I can't believe we made it here with only being able to do twenty knots." McManus said and I chuckled. We had another sub painted on the hull from the ASROC kill of the sub that had gotten the destroyer on the way down.
"Did your wife make the plane?" I asked him good-naturedly, trying to change the subject from the war that was still being fought. The ship I was on resembled an old warrior covered in scars, each one a near-brush with death. Right now, I didn't want to think about all those brushes with death we'd been through.
"Yes, she did." McManus said with a smile. "I understand your partner made the trip as well."
"Yes." I answered simply, playing with the rank insignia on my collar as had become a habit over the last few months. It wasn't the same insignia I'd been given before heading out here. Instead of the single silver bar of a Lieutenant Junior Grade, I know wore the double silver bars of a full Lieutenant. Most of the junior officers, and every enlisted man below the rank of E-6 had received a promotion last week, by order of the President and the Joint Chiefs of Staff. It had been a reward beyond the medals they'd been handing out to this ship's crew by the dozen, and much more welcome than the medals had been. Promotions meant higher pay, after all.
"Stop that." McManus chided me gently and I let my hand fall away from my collar. He'd started trying to break me of the habit a week ago. "An officer does not fidget."
"I still don't feel like a real officer." I muttered softly and he laughed gently.
"Well, it's all real enough." He reminded me. "You're not the only Academy cadet to be sworn in and sent out to the fleet. Right now the Academy is all but empty, most of the cadets were sent out to the fleet to fill spots on those ships that are being re-commissioned."
"Desperate times indeed." I tried to joke but it fell flat. These were desperate times. The decommissioning of several older ships had originally been pushed up in order to focus on construction of newer ships. That decision had been made in 1986. At the start of the war, nearly sixty ships had been pier-side, waiting for decommissioning with only small caretaker crews on board. With the heavy losses we'd taken, new crews and officers had been needed for those ships and Academy cadets in their third or fourth year had been commissioned as Ensigns and sent to fill slots on those ships. Active reservists, and inactive reservists who'd recently been discharged from the Navy had been called into service by the tens of thousands and most had gone to those older ships as well.
Of my Academy classmates, Carlington had been the only other to be promoted
to Lieutenant Junior Grade. He was currently serving as the Executive Officer
of a Pegasus-class missile boat. The small hydrofoil boat was armed with
eight Harpoon anti-ship missiles, a rapid-fire three-inch gun mount, and a few
submachine guns. They'd been stationed in Dubai, the port city of the United
Arab Emirates in the far south of the Persian Gulf. For the past two months,
they'd been sparring with small Iranian gun boats that were trying to break
into the harbor and shoot up some of the thirty-odd tankers sheltering there.
"Right now we need every person we can get." McManus said with a shrug. "You certainly have come along nicely in fulfilling the duties of Assistant Operations Officer as well as your normal intelligence duties."
"Yeah, well, I prefer to look forward to the time I can hang up the uniform." I said with a shrug. "No offense, of course."
"None taken." He said with a chuckle. "These long deployments are a bitch to anyone in a relationship."
That was a truth that was easy for me to understand. The Long Beach had left the states eight months ago, and would not be leaving the region until the end of the war or unless she was too badly damaged to continue fighting. That was why during the three-month repair period here in Diego Garcia, almost half the crew would be transferred off the ship, to be replaced mostly by men who did not have wives and children back home. For the officers though, such niceties did not apply. Arkansas and Mississippi had both finished short, three-week repair periods and headed back up to the Gulf while we headed down.
"Fourth fleet arriving." The ship's 1-MC, or loudspeaker, announced with some bell rings as the gangplank was finished being lowered into place and a four-star admiral came across. Six other officers followed him and I let out a sigh as a blond head appeared on the dock amidst a group of women.
"Well, the admiral's on board and there are the wives." McManus said with a sigh of relief as his gaze latched onto a petite brown-haired woman I knew was his wife from the pictures he'd shown me.
"I'll make sure Brian knows you called him a wife." I joked and we both laughed. He led the way down the starboard ladder and aft towards the quarterdeck. I was a little surprised that the Admiral was still there, talking to the Executive Officer. He noticed us approaching and I stiffened slightly as we approached, waiting for McManus to salute, and following him a second later. The Admiral returned the salutes and moved to shake our hands.
"You would be young Mr. Jones." Admiral Hollis said with a broad smile.
"Yes, Admiral." I replied cautiously.
"You've done a good job out here." He told me. "I look forward to you and your young man joining my wife and I for dinner this evening."
"I'm honored, sir." I said with some surprise. Okay, I knew I'd been at sea for six months and away from all the changes happening back in the states, but there was no way gays were so well accepted that a four-star admiral wouldn't blink an eye at inviting a gay officer and his partner to dinner. Maybe I was dreaming.
"Nineteen-hundred hours sharp." The Admiral told me firmly. "Captain, I mean Rear Admiral Pollock will be coming as well with his wife so you can travel in the same car."
"Yes, Admiral." I said a little weakly as he turned to leave the quarterdeck with his assistants. Fortunately, Van, the Captain's cook, had managed to get me a set of dress blues and tailored them to fit me correctly. At least when I dined tonight I'd have seven ribbons on my chest, something that made me feel a little more legitimate in such company.
"Gee whiz, dining with the Admiral!" McManus teased me and I let out a sigh. Our attention was diverted though by the sound of feet crossing the gangplank and I looked over to see Brian leading the pack of women coming on board, being escorted by two enlisted men from the shore detachment. Robert McManus's wife didn't wait the moment she saw her husband, she ran and let out a squeal as she jumped across the distance between them and landed in his arms. I almost wished Brian and I could do the same when I felt his arms grab me in a tight hug, and suddenly my cheeks were wet as I took a deep breath full of Brian's scent.
"You're alive, you're really alive." Brian muttered into my ear as he hugged me so tightly that I thought he was going to break my ribs. I think I was probably hugging him just as tightly. It was early June, and Harvard had let out for the summer, so he didn't even have to skip classes to be here.
"You're here." I whispered and finally we pulled back to look at each other. I knew what he was seeing. Dark circles had taken up permanent residence under my eyes, my face was thin and my body was several pounds lighter than he'd ever seen me. I still ran daily, but with the ship's gym being destroyed in that direct missile hit, there'd been little more besides push-ups for exercise. Brian, though, looked exactly as I remembered him looking. His arms were thick, his body chiseled, and his blue eyes were even more beautiful than I could remember them being. "I can't believe you actually came all the way out here."
"What, and not get a chance to spend a few weeks with you?" Brian scoffed and I smiled before wiping away the tears that were on my cheeks. I was smiling now, and barely noticed the sound of McManus clearing his throat.
"Lt. Jones, may I introduce my wife, Darla McManus?" He said politely and I nodded, turning to the petite brown-haired woman and shaking her hand gently.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." I said politely. "Commander, may I introduce Brian Breckenridge. Brian, this is Lt. Commander McManus and his wife, Darla."
"It's nice to meet you, sir." Brian said. "Darla and I were seat mates on the flight over."
"We decided we'd all go out to dinner tonight if you two don't have any objections." Darla interjected with a smile that made her face shine. She had her arm around her husband's waist just as Brian's was around mine and mine around his. Robert had his arm resting on her shoulder gently.
"Dear, I'm afraid they already have dinner commitments." Lt. Commander said with a chuckle before explaining.
"Well, we'll have to do it tomorrow." She said gently. "So, any idea when you two might get a chance to get off the ship?"
"It won't be for a few hours, and Lt. Jones here has duty tomorrow, as do I." McManus said with a frown. "We'll have to do dinner the night after that. For now, let's head up to the wardroom."
Lt. Commander McManus put his arm around his wife's shoulder and led her into the ship. I put my arm around Brian in a similar way and followed. Brian tensed up at the first contact, and had a look of surprise on his face. It turned to a wide smile though as we followed the senior officer into the passageway. The narrow hatch forced us out of the embrace and we followed along the rest of the way with Brian following behind me while Mrs. McManus followed her husband in front of me. My point had been made. We would show the same affection as any other officer with his spouse. McManus took us on a roundabout path, stopping at the flag bridge wing so that our two guests could get a good look at the battle-damaged aft superstructure before heading to the wardroom.
Master Chief Orozzo, the senior cook in the Mess Department, had made his famous, and much desired, lumpia. It was a Filipino treat similar to but much better than shrimp egg rolls. I grabbed a handful and urged Brian to do the same as soon as we entered. The look on Brian's face had me smiling tightly and he reached out for a few more before we moved over to where the Marine Commandant, Captain Olson, was entertaining his wife and the wives of a few other junior officers with a sea story. When I heard the topic, I tried to get Brian to move away towards Commander Babbitt and his wife on the other side of the room, but he stayed put to listen.
"…so it had been two days since any action, and there was a mother of a storm hitting the north part of the gulf." Commandant Olson said with vigor. "The sea was a little bit rough, but we thought it was a good chance to cycle through some live-fire training for the junior officers and some of the enlisted men. Mr. Jones was one of the men we were going to give training to so he was out there with us when these three Iranian gunboats came out of nowhere."
"Didn't your radar pick them up?" One of the wives asked with a vapid expression.
"The surface search radar was having a hard time with the heavy seas." Ensign Meyers said with a pompous nod of his head to his wife. "They probably trailed behind a ferry ship that was nearby and snuck out. We picked them up eight miles out."
"That's right." Olson said sternly, a look of reproach on his face for having his storytelling interrupted. Ensign Meyers had enough brains to nod and hang his head a little as the Marine continued. "So, we picked them up about eight miles out and went to battle stations. The five-inch mount began engaging but didn't get any kills before they got too close. Those boats are fast but only have a machine gun or two, and maybe a rocket launcher. We were trying to get the loose gear stowed and so Mr. Jones was stuck with us on the deck instead of heading down to CIC where his battle station is normally. The Iranians started shooting up the weather decks and our machine gun crews fired back, but it's hard to hit a small ship like that moving real fast.
"Then from nowhere I heard the sound of the M79 going off. That's the old grenade launcher that was used during the Vietnam War. We were going to practice with it, but it's really too inaccurate for shooting at high-speed boats, or so we thought. The grenade hit the first gunboat right on the fuel tank blowing it right up. Everyone started cheering and I turned around to see who'd fired the lucky shot."
"It was Mr. Jones, wasn't it?" Mrs. Meyers said vapidly and the marine nodded with a wry smile.
"Yep, the kid was standing there with the M79 in his hands, opened up the breech, ejected the spent round and put another one in and then aimed at the second boat that was heading away from us." Olson continued with a smile. "He must have aimed, then corrected his aim twice before he fired and his shot hit the second boat in the exact same spot. Now, you have to understand, he'd told us he'd never shot the grenade launcher in all his nineteen years, so we were quite amazed that he'd managed to hit two gunboats in heavy seas with one shot each. I just had to ask him how he did it."
"I passed Geometry." I answered aloud and Olson started laughing as did the rest a second later. Brian was glaring at me though.
"Uh oh, looks like someone didn't like the story." Olson said with a grin to Brian.
"Oh, I'm just wondering what else he left out of his letters." Brian said in a very dangerous voice. "He told me he was always in CIC, the safest part of the ship."
"I said my battle station was in CIC." I pointed out carefully. "I just let you assume I was always there."
"We'll talk about that later." Brian quipped and got a round of polite laughter.
"You better be careful, Commandant." I warned the marine officer (Marines of the rank of Captain on board Naval ships were called 'commandant' because there is only one 'Captain' aboard a Navy ship.). "I've got a few stories about you. Something about running out in the middle of the night, pulling a helmet and flak vest on over your underwear and looking for gunboats that weren't there."
"Hey!" Olson said as laughter filled the wardroom again. "I seem to remember several officers having to pull extra shifts after the X.O. found a tape recorder between our cabins."
"It was worth it." I said with a grin. I had placed the recorder of the ship's 1-MC calling out surface action to starboard just outside the Marine Commandant's quarters. Unfortunately, his quarters were right across from the ship's Executive Officer, who had heard the commotion and come to investigate. He'd found me and two Ensigns huddled in the side corridor, laughing our asses off.
"So, Mr. Breckenridge, I hear you've been attending Harvard." Lt (Junior Grade) Holland, the ship's Operations-2 Division Officer said in order to change the subject.
"Yes, I started in the fall." Brian said with a smile. "Please, call me Brian though."
"I'm Jerry Holland." Holland said with a smile and held out his hand for Brian to shake. Everyone introduced themselves and their wives after that.
"It must be hard on you dealing with David being here." Mrs. Holland, Betty, said with a coy grin. "Most of us have had time to get use to the idea of our husbands being away. I understand it was quite sudden and a surprise for you."
"You might say that." Brian said, fortunately there was a cover story for most of my being here. "It was one thing for him to be down at the Naval Academy where we could get together on the weekends, but him being out here was a big surprise."
"I hear the upper classes at all the Academies are getting pretty thin with officers being commissioned early." Dianne Meyers said with an expression that was suddenly not vapid. Worry could be seen on the faces of all the women.
"Well, by the time the next semester starts, hopefully they'll all be back in their classrooms and learning there instead of at sea." Holland said with a nod of his head.
"Mr. Jones." Vanrantahorn said from behind me and I turned to face the enlisted man who was not usually in the wardroom. "The Captain asks that you and Mr. Breckenridge join him in his cabin."
"Thank you, petty officer." I said cordially and turned back to the group of officers and their wives. "If you'll excuse us, it has been a pleasure."
When we entered the Captain's in-port cabin a few minutes later, Brian let out a very soft whistle. I'd gotten use to the oak paneling and nicely-appointed furniture, but it was his first time seeing it all. The captain was there, along with his wife, Admiral Hollis, and Commander Hendrickson and his wife. It looked like most of the ship's officer wives had made the trip.
"Ah, Mr. Jones, this must be your Brian." The Captain said with a friendly smile as we entered. There was a smaller buffet set up on his table, with more lumpia and Brian attacked the supply as we had earlier in the wardroom. Then we sat down on the couches along the bulkhead.
"I understand you were able to take the quarters assigned for you two last night." The admiral said to Brian as we sat down.
"Yes, sir, they are in the BOQ complex." Brian said with a nod of his head. "I was surprised at how nice they are."
"Well, we're filling up awful fast and have had to have some new sections built, especially after the Nimitz pulled in with her battle damage." The Admiral said with a shrug. "Most of her crew is sleeping on barges we've brought in to the harbor. It was a miracle she made it to port with five torpedo hits on her hull."
"I take it there's no change in the repair schedule for her?" Captain Pollock, newly promoted to Rear Admiral (Lower Half), asked with a sigh. A lucky Russian submarine had gotten her when she approached Diego Garcia several months ago.
"No, it'll be another two months at least until she's sea worthy, and then she'll be heading back to the states." The Admiral said with a heavy sigh. "One of the torpedoes heavily damaged her #2 reactor, and another knocked out her other reactor completely. We'll have #2 operational soon, but she won't be able to do much with just one reactor."
"All of which means we won't have another full-sized carrier in theater for another four months." Captain Pollock observed sourly before smiling gently. The two carriers from the Pacific Fleet that had been heading our way had also run into submarines. Both had taken massive damage, as had several of their escorts, while still in the eastern part of the Indian Ocean. The Ranger had been towed back to the Philippines while the Carl Vinson had made it there under her own power, albeit at a very slow ten knots. "But, we're not here to talk shop."
"Actually we do need to talk shop, but a different kind." The Admiral's wife, Debra said with a gentle smile. "Diego Garcia has only recently been built up to the point where it is now, and it really doesn't have any facilities for dependents, but the wives of some the ship officers have been staying here and the USO is coming to give a big concert in three weeks. Brian, I was hoping I could draft you into helping us get set up for that. I know you're not a 'wife' but it's something the spouse of an officer usually helps with and I'd love to have your assistance."
"I'd be happy to help, ma'am." Brian said with a smile. "I was afraid I'd get bored while Davey has work or duty, or whatever."
"That brings up the other topic." Captain Pollock said with a smile. "Mr. Jones, you'll have the next two days on leave. After that, it's going to be extremely busy. We're upgrading the entire CIC with the new systems. Normally, we'd be in the yards for a year or more, but we're going to do it in eight weeks. That's three shifts working continuously, twenty-four hours a day. You'll be monitoring the midnight to 0800 shift, which is why you get the next two days off."
"Yes, sir." I said with a frown. Brian was frowning too, since it would make it tough on both of us, but then again there was a war on right now.
"A car will be by to pick you up for dinner." The Admiral said with a smile in what was a clear dismissal. Brian and I stood and left the cabin, heading for my own stateroom. Brian whistled when he saw the bed and grinned as I shut the door behind me. The next thing I knew his soft lips were touching mine in a gentle kiss that seemed to seek as much reassurance as it gave. I wrapped my arms around him gently and closed my eyes as the kiss deepened gradually.
"Oh god, I've missed you." Brian breathed huskily as we broke the kiss.
"I've missed you as well, love." I whispered back to him. "Let's get to these quarters you've got for us."
"Just two bags?" Brian asked as he picked them off the chair.
"Yeah, the rest will still be here when I get back." I said with a shrug as I took one of the bags. Our real time together would begin there. There was no way I was going to have sex with him on the ship and have that become public knowledge, even just onboard.
It felt weird leaving the ship for the first time in months, but it was a good kind of weird as we made our way through the dry dock levels and down to the long, temporary pier. There were several shuttle buses waiting nearby and it was Brian who led me to the proper one. It was already partially full of crewmembers and two chief petty officers from the ship. We took seats near the front of the bus and waited. I noticed that it felt a little odd walking on dry land after so long at sea. The constant motion of the ship was a strange absence and I think the Senior Chief sitting across from us noticed my expression because he chuckled softly.
"The first few hours on land after a long time at sea are always a little odd, Mr. Jones." Senior Chief Lofton said with a smile.
"I'm starting to realize that, Senior Chief." I replied softly.
"You'll adjust to it after a while." Lofton advised me with a chuckle. "I take it this young man is your 'friend'?"
"Oh, yeah, Senior Chief Lofton, this is Brian Breckenridge." I introduced him quickly, remembering my manners. "Brian, this is Senior Chief Operations Specialist Lofton. He's the senior enlisted man for one of the Operations divisions."
"It's a pleasure, Senior Chief." Brian said congenially as he shook the chief's proffered hand.
"Likewise." Lofton said. "Did you fly all the way out here?"
"Yeah, they're routing flights through Rio de Janeiro now so it's pretty long." Brian answered easily. "I got in last night, though."
"Ah, well, my wife hates to fly so she won't be out here." Lofton said with frown. "I was hoping she'd show up anyway, but I don't think she'd get on a plane to save her life."
"Well, the charter flights were all pretty much full." Brian said with a shrug. "There was something like two hundred and twelve women flying out, plus another two hundred new crew members, according to Mrs. Pollock."
"Sounds about right." Lofton said with a knowing nod. "Are you two going to the party at the Boar's Head tonight?"
"Party?" Brian asked in some confusion.
"Shame on you, Mr. Jones." Lofton said with a smile. "You know the chiefs all owe you a drink. The senior enlisted men are having a party along with some of the crew and officers at the Boar's Head later tonight. You're both invited."
"Thank you, Senior Chief." I said politely. "We'll stop by for a bit."
"That's good." Lofton said with a nod as two more officers, one with his wife in tow, got onboard. The driver closed the door and the bus roared to life. It took off with a lurch and we were off into the housing area of the island.
The ride was anything but quiet as the enlisted men constantly talked about their plans for the afternoon and evening. Sight seeing wasn't mentioned much, just the swimming area, and the local bars. Brian and I remained silent, and it took all my willpower to not take his hand in mine as the bus made its way along the small atoll. By the time we made it to the officer housing area, the bus was almost empty and I followed Brian off the bus when it stopped.
The buildings looked like small bungalows, and when Brian led me into one I saw that they were indeed very small. The entry way was also a living room with a television hooked up to the island's civilian satellite receiver and the couch filled the rest of the room. A small kitchen was off to the right, and a short hallway had two doors, one to a very small bathroom and the other to a bedroom that had a full-size bed, dresser, and a little walk-space.
"It's not much, but it's home for now." Brian said with a shrug as I closed the door behind us and set down the bags.
"It's enough." I said, and stepped into his embrace as he turned to face me with a small smile. Our lips met, and we both let out small moans as our tongues got reacquainted with each other. How long that kiss lasted, I had no idea, but for the first time in months I felt safe. Brian's arms tightened around me and as the kiss broke I moved to rest my head against his shoulder as tension I had forgotten I was carrying around melted away.
"My God, you were tense." Brian said softly, the barest hint of a chuckle in his voice. I looked up at his face and for a moment the image of his dark eyebrows and blond hair were all I could make out through tear-blurred eyes. When he spoke again, I could hear the concern in his voice. "Davey, are you okay?"
"I am now." I whispered, wiping my tear-stained eyes on his cheek. His arms tightened on me even more.
"I've missed you so much, and I've been so worried." Brian muttered softly. "I even begged the President to order you home. I have no idea why they made you an officer and gave you duties on that ship. He tried to tell me some bullshit about your knowledge of the future not really mattering anymore since it was so messed up, and that your commanding officer said you were needed there, but I didn't accept it at all. I wanted you home."
"He was right, I am needed on the Long Beach." I admitted with a heavy sigh. "I'm damn good at anticipating tactics and handling air defense. It's probably because of all those war games I played in my other life on the computer. I've got as much, if not more, time in simulated combat than most of the officers in the fleet, and after the last six months, I have more actual combat time than officers from other ships. Not to mention I still have a higher security clearance than most flag officers, and still am pretty good at analysis."
"You should be back in the states where you can do the analysis in a nice, safe, office." Brian said firmly and I chuckled for a moment.
"If I thought I could get away with it, I would." I said softly. "Last time I spoke with the President though, he mentioned there were a lot of upset senior officers who thought I was some sort of seer and should have known this crap would happen."
"I've met one or two of them." Brian muttered irritably, and before we could continue talking about politics and war, I moved in for another kiss. This time, he moved backwards and I followed him as we staggered into the bedroom. There was no more wasting time as I took a deep breath of his musky scent and began to rip his shirt off. He was wasting no time either and ripped my uniform shirt open. As we tripped into the bed, shrugging out of our pants and remaining clothes, I latched onto his nipple and began to tease it the way I remembered him liking. It still seemed to have a good effect on him as he went limp and let out a guttural groan that sent shivers down my spine.
As I continued to reacquaint myself with Brian's body, and he with mine, all thoughts of war, battles, and time travel slipped from my mind. All I could think about was this man, boy no longer, who was sharing himself with me. When I took him in my mouth, the groan of pleasure that escaped his lips sent shivers down my spine. I could feel him growing closer and closer to an orgasm, but he stopped me before it could happen. Instead he guided my head up so that we were face to face and I found myself lost in his blue eyes.
"I love you, Davey Jones." Brian whispered softly and my heart melted at his words. He wasn't done though. "I've loved you for years now, and I'm not waiting any longer."
"But…" I started to protest, knowing just where this was going. He shook his head with a fond smile and silenced me.
"I'm not going to change my mind, and neither are you." Brian's voice was husky with emotion and desire. "We waited because we wanted it to be a sign of our final, adult commitment to each other. We're both adults now, and you can't promise me that when your ship goes to sea again you will come back, can you?"
"No." I admitted softly. The world had changed so much. This war wasn't supposed to be happening, but it was. I couldn't promise we'd make it back after the refit, despite the skill of Captain Pollock, despite the capabilities of the ship and its crew. All it would take is a couple of torpedoes or missiles actually hitting and we'd be dead.
"David Jones, I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you, and want you to spend the rest of your life with me." Brian continued to speak softly, but there was steel in his voice. "I promise to love you, to cherish you, to share my life with you in sickness and in health, till death parts us."
"And I with you." was all I could think to say in response. We might exchange vows again in a ceremony but these vows here were the ones we would always remember. Brian smiled goofily and leaned in for a kiss that took my breath away. Then, he repositioned himself on the bed, reaching into a bag that I hadn't noticed lying near us. It seemed he'd planned this all along as he brought out a bottle of lube. He gave me a little smirk that told me he'd known I'd never have refused him, and it was time for revealing a little secret of my own. "I was hoping you'd feel this way."
"You…what?" Brian said with surprise, almost dropping the lube as he was wetting his fingers down in preparation for loosening me up. We'd done it a few times over the last few years, but always stopped short of actual penetration.
"I've been getting ready for this over the last few weeks." I said with a smirk of my own.
"Oh, you have, have you?" Brian said as he moved into position beside me. His fingers slid in easily and I let out a sigh of pleasure. "Yep, you have been getting ready. I should have known you'd be thinking this way."
"I just happen to know you." I replied as he slipped a third finger inside. Those were the last words we spoke for a while as his lips found mine again, and when the kiss broke apart he moved into position. It would be the first time we'd gone 'all the way', and my entire body tingled with anticipation as he put the head of his dick against my hole. When he slipped inside, I knew it had been worth the wait.
"We have dinner in an hour." Brian said a few hours later. We were lying on top of the bed, both of us nude and with me resting in the crook of Brian's right shoulder. The sweat was cooling on both of our bodies, but I was filled with a warm glow that kept me from getting cold.
"Why don't we call in sick?" I asked with a soft chuckle.
"Now who's being the kid?" Brian retorted. It was a nice feeling his comment gave me, somehow reassuring that, despite the separation, we were still a couple and that we still could relate to each other.
"Alright, old man, let's get ready." I said with a sigh. Brian laughed softly and ruffled my hair at my use of his nickname for me. The shower was a lot longer than we should have taken, but we were still re-learning each other's bodies, and reveling at being able to touch each other. Several times I almost started crying at just being able to touch him again, and his eyes held tears as well. When we were dressed and a car was waiting for us outside, we left the small apartment together, our shoulders touching as we walked to the car.
Neither of us wanted to be separated any more than we had to be.
The dinner at the admiral's house was fancy. I wore my dress blue uniform, and Brian had worn a suit, both good decisions since they matched the attire of the senior officers and their wives. Over dinner, not much was discussed relating directly to the war that was underway. Rather, the discussion focused on the upcoming USO concert, and on how the island's facilities were handling the overcrowding by Navy and Air Force personnel.
After dinner, Lt. Commander McManus and his wife accompanied us to the 'party' at one of the local clubs. To my delight, the enlisted men accepted Brian's presence as easily as Mrs. McManus's. There was no 'gay' issue among these men.
We left the bar just after midnight and headed back to our small quarters.
Brian and I kissed each other sleepily before stripping down and climbing in
the bed. I was asleep the instant my head hit the pillow.
As with all my stories, E provides immeasurable input, grammar checking, and all those other lovely editing thingies that make the story so much better!
Feedback,
an Author's Lifeblood
