Читать книгу Code Of Conduct - Rich Merritt - Страница 18

“Always wondered what the inside of the bachelor officers’ quarters looked like.”

Patrick laughed. “I don’t mean to insinuate anything by what I’m about to say—”

“That means you’re totally about to insinuate something.” Don set the bag of Chinese takeout on a cheap faux-wood table and playfully pushed the young officer onto the bed.

“—something tells me you’ve seen the inside of a BOQ room before.”

“But I’ve never seen your BOQ room.” Don fell onto the dusty bedspread inches away.

“That’s because we just met last night.” Patrick turned sideways, propped his head on his hand and scanned Don’s torso.

Reaching across the bed, Don took Patrick’s hand into his own. “Was it really just last night?” Their lips touched, and to Don’s delight, their kiss was slow and long. They had time. With no reason to rush, he wanted to savor every minute with this man. “You know—I—” Don’s cheeks grew warm and he was sure he was blushing. “I was afraid you might not call.”

“What?” Patrick massaged Don’s palm. “You couldn’t see how crazy I was when we met?”

“Yeah, guess I could.” The two men laughed and kissed again. “But you didn’t call today until after fourteen, I mean two o’ clock—listen to me! ‘You didn’t call!’ I sound pathetic, not like a gunnery sergeant in the United States Marine Corps.”

“Woof! Say that again.”

Don got on his knees. As loudly as he dared in the officers’ building, he shouted, “Gunnery Sergeant D. A. Hawkins, United States Marine Corps, reporting as ordered, sir!” As he said “sir,” he whipped his shirt off over his head, leaned across the bed and ripped Patrick’s off as well. As he disrobed the lieutenant, he feared he might be going too fast. But when Patrick’s head popped out of his shirt, Don saw the most charming—and willing—smile he’d ever seen on a man. “Awesome.” He ran his hand over Patrick’s tight and lean abs.

“What’s the ‘A’ stand for?” Patrick asked.

Don hesitated. “I could tell you—but then I’d have to eat you.”

“What’re you waiting for?” Patrick pulled Don down to the bed. “Tell me now!”

“Antonio.”

“Antonio,” Patrick said. “That’s a great name. You Italian? That’d explain your looks.”

“My mom was.” Patrick’s face winced at Don’s use of past tense. “Died when I was a baby. Hodgkin’s. Today she coulda been treated, but in the early sixties, it was different.”

“I’m so sorry—”

“Stop it. No downers, not today.” He ran his hand over the smooth skin covering Patrick’s shoulders and arms. “Tell me about your day.”

“Well…” Patrick began, “I wanted to call you sooner, but I got a late start. Checked out of the hotel in San Diego. Drove up here. Gosh, I didn’t realize what a long drive that is.”

“Don’t have to tell me. It’s thirty-eight miles from my condo in Vista to WC’s. After a few hundred times it’s not so bad. Ask Robbi. She drives it daily from her girlfriend’s in Hillcrest.”

“Then I checked into this room.” Patrick waved his hand around the drab space with Spartan furnishings. “Not the Ritz. But if you stand on the bed, you can see the ocean.”

“It is the Ritz compared to what we enlisted folks get. Only one of your chairs is broken.” Don sniffed. “Hell, you can hardly even smell the asbestos.” They laughed and stared into each other’s eyes. “Did you find an apartment?”

“Yep. Got a great deal on a place next to the beach thanks to California’s real estate slump.”

Don threw his head back. “Listen to Machiavelli over here! Homeowners—me included—have lost millions in property values since 1989. Foreclosures force children into the streets. But Patrick’s happy. He gets a cheap apartment on the beach in beautiful downtown Oceanside.”

“I can’t remember when I laughed this hard. There was that time when Chris Ashburn tried to pick up this twenty-year-old. Watching him get shot down was fucking hilarious.” Patrick ran his fingers through Don’s dark, curly chest hairs. “I like the way you groom this. Just right.” He leaned in for another kiss. “Then I started looking for a car.”

“Not a ‘lieutenant-mobile’, I hope.”

“Of course. A shiny new sports car is a rite of passage. I’ve earned it—and I’m doing it the right way and not going in debt. My dad’s buying it for me as a present for getting my wings.”

“That’s awesome. Glad you gotta dad like that. Wanna know the only thing my dad ever bought me?” Patrick nodded. “When I turned twelve, he bought me a six-pack.”

“I assume it wasn’t a six-pack of root beer? God, Don, again, I’m sorry—”

“Who’s complainin’? I enjoyed the six-pack,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “At seventeen I enlisted. Corps’s turned out to be the best dad in the world.”

Patrick became sullen. “What’s always on my mind, though, is that my dad would disown me—if he knew—like, if he knew I was on this bed—with you right now.”

“So would my dad.”

“Really? Your dad’s like that—?”

“I’m not talking about ‘Dad the Drunk.’ He wouldn’t give a crap if I fucked sheep. ‘Dad the Marine Corps.’” He gently stroked Patrick’s cheek with his hand. “There’s some things we can never tell our dads.” He paused. “Thought we agreed no downers.”

Patrick rolled on top of Don. “Agreed.” He propped his elbows on Don’s shoulders and put his head in his hands. “After I looked at a few cars I didn’t like, finally I could call you.”

“Thank God. I sat by the phone like a sixteen-year-old girl, waitin’ for some guy to ask her to the prom. I was so excited. After we hung up, I called Eddie.”

“What’d he say? That we just met last night and don’t fall too fast? That you need to slow down and be careful? Don’t get hurt?” Patrick rolled off Don and lay beside him on the bed. “Best friends give the best advice. Wonder why we never take it.”

“He wasn’t there so I left a message on his machine.” Don fished in his pocket for his pager. Looking at the device, he said, “Strange. Eddie never waits this long to return a call.”

“He seems like a good guy.”

“He’s the best. Helped me through some stormy times, especially after we met. Not too long ago I helped him—as best I could—through the worst thing imaginable.” Don returned the pager to his pocket. “But all that’s ancient history.” He slid his finger down the center of Patrick’s chest. “Bet he worked around his house all day. Took the pooch to the park, the usual Sunday routine when football’s not on.” Don sat up. “Permission to take my shoes off, sir.”

“Granted.” Patrick removed his as well.

Grabbing Patrick firmly by the shoulders, Don rolled him on his back and straddled his torso. “Back to us. Where were we?”

“Don, um, I got a confession.” Patrick feigned guilt.

“What? I’ve known you less than twenty-four hours and you got something to confess?” He grabbed Patrick’s nipples and gave them a little squeeze.

“When I got back to my hotel room last night—” He paused.

“Yes?” Don pinched Patrick’s nipples harder.

“I thought about you.”

Don let go of Patrick and rolled over beside him. “And I thought about you.”

Patrick gave Don a mischievous-looking half-smile that brought back a flood of wonderful memories. “I thought about you—while I beat off.”

“Then we’ve got a lot in common, sir.”

“You think about yourself while you beat off?” Patrick laughed.

“No, silly boy.” Don rubbed his knuckles across Patrick’s head. “I mean, no, smart-ass lieutenant!” The two men engaged in a bout of wrestling-as-foreplay for a few minutes when Don thought of something he should’ve realized from the beginning.

“What’s—is something wrong?”

“No. Nothing’s wrong, not at all. But—did you say you just broke an engagement?”

Patrick put his arm around Don’s neck and rubbed Don’s whiskers. “Yes. That’s—it’s not a problem, is it?”

Don smiled and tapped his forehead against Patrick’s. “Of course not. But forgive me if this is too personal. Have you ever—you know—had sex with a guy?”

Patrick bit his lower lip. “No. Not with a guy. But—it’s only because I never met a guy I wanted to have sex with, well, I mean really wanted. Until last night. When I met you. Am I making sense? Guess what I mean is, I really want you.”

Don felt a lump in his throat. “Wow, Patrick. That’s—that’s the most romantic thing anyone ever said to me.” Don gently squeezed Patrick’s firm upper arm. “And yes, it makes sense. I figured out you’re the guy—and I’m breaking every rule in the gay men’s dating handbook by saying this so soon, but you’re the guy I’ve been waiting for.”

Patrick laughed. “You mean you haven’t had sex?”

“Very funny, flyboy.” Don leaned over and whispered, “I’ve had sex before but I’ve gotta feeling compared to what’s in store for us, I’ve never made love before.”

Patrick’s face brightened. “Now that’s the most romantic thing anyone ever said to me. Being new to all this—are we crazy? Feeling this way and saying these things so soon?”

“Only as crazy as we think we are. I know what I want when I see it. My only concern is that you haven’t had a chance to sample the big gay smorgasbord.”

“Shhhh.” With a strong burst of energy, Patrick pushed Don onto his back and unbuttoned his jeans. “The only smorgasbord I wanna sample is in front of me.” He kissed Don hard and full, his lips thrusting into the other Marine’s mouth. “I can’t wait to get lost in this hairy chest.”

Don unbuttoned Patrick’s jeans, feeling Patrick’s washboard abs again. “What do they feed you officers at Quantico?” Don rolled Patrick over and slid Patrick’s jeans over his lean hips and legs. Patrick put his hands behind his head, lying on the bed in a position that said, Take me.

“You are one handsome man,” Don said as he removed what was left of his clothing. Patrick also removed his boxers. “Wow.” Don slid his naked body on top of his companion. “You really are the whole package, aren’t you?”

“Good boy! There you go.” Jay emptied the last of the dog food onto the concrete patio and looked around Ed’s backyard. Fortunately, the moon was bright and he located the empty water bowl near a spigot. “Here’s some water.” He scratched the little dog. “You’re two dogs long and half a dog high.” Thankfully, Ed’s pet hadn’t barked when Jay jumped over the small fence between Ed’s house and his neighbor’s. “That’s all, fella. Don’t bark.” The dog looked both satisfied and curious.

As Jay leapt over the fence, returning to his car, he heard the muted ringing of Ed’s phone. In his sleepless delusion, Jay had begun to fantasize they’d never find Ed’s body. Maybe the Sailor would decompose into nothingness and no one would be the wiser. How he wished that were the case! His problems would be over. The phone’s ring, though, brought him back to reality. Ed had family, friends and a job. Even though his body had been lifeless for almost twenty-four hours, tomorrow was Monday and someone would miss him.

Jay returned to his car. Against his will and better judgment, he fell asleep for a few hours. When he awoke, he realized that tomorrow wasn’t Monday—today was. He looked toward the southeast and saw the faint early glows of the crisp winter sunrise over the mountains east of San Diego. As desperately as he wanted to remain at the scene of the crime—no, this wasn’t a crime, it was just an incident—and learn what would happen, he had to be at his office soon. Now that he’d slept, his mind worked again and a plan formed in his head. Fortunately, the sun remained low on the horizon. Grabbing a pen and a slip of paper, he darted across the street and copied the DoD decal number from Ed’s Oldsmobile.

As Jay stared at the windshield, an item on the front seat caught his attention. He eyes became riveted to the brown paper bag Ed said held a friend’s clothing. Suddenly, Jay had an idea that might solve his problems. He tried the door but, as expected, it was locked. He turned his head to look at the house, dreading what he had to do. Repeating his drill, he took off his jacket and laid it on the car. Steeling himself to the cold, he stripped off his T-shirt and wrapped it around his right hand. He hurried to the front door because he was running out of darkness.

The door was as he’d left it—not locked. The body was also as he’d left it—not alive. From Jay’s limited knowledge of forensics, he didn’t expect the smell to be overpowering after only thirty hours, and thankfully, it wasn’t. Kneeling beside Ed’s corpse, Jay thought about all the microscopic processes taking place inside the body. Bacteria had begun spreading, breaking down tissues and blood vessels. Black spots had formed on the white parts of Ed’s open eyes, the only visible sign, other than the pool of drying blood, that his body was decomposing. In the cool, dry room, he’d decompose slower than average; regardless, putrefaction would set in soon.

Ed had used his right hand so Jay, using the T-shirt as a glove, reached into the right pocket of Ed’s jeans. He grimaced. Ed’s leg felt like a piece of steel and his joints were frozen. Rigor mortis was at its peak at twenty-four hours. Suddenly, a noise startled Jay. It was only a fly buzzing by his ear, landing on Ed’s lips.

Seeing light through the open front door motivated Jay to hurry. He found the keys, snatched them out of Ed’s pocket and ran outside, where he retrieved the paper sack from the Oldsmobile’s front seat. Relocking the car, he returned the keys, this time setting them on the desk. He couldn’t bring himself to touch the stiff corpse a second time.

Safely outside, he dressed and stuck the paper sack under his jacket. As stealthily as possible, he returned to his car. After a short detour home to clean up and change clothes, he drove to work, smiling along the way. Work is where he had to be to take care of this mess.

Thank you, he prayed, for giving me this plan.

Patrick looked in the mirror and adjusted the khaki necktie, a required part of all Marines’ “winter service alpha” uniforms. “Alphas” were the uniform Lieutenant Colonel Oliver North wore when he testified before Congress about his role in orchestrating the Iran-Contra scandal, making it almost as recognizable as the Marines’ Dress Blue uniform. The alpha coat—or blouse, as Marines called it—had an exterior belt worn tightly around the upper part of the waist. Patrick’s was snug on his lean frame. His only medal had been easy to affix—as dictated by Marine Corps uniform regulations—one-eighth of an inch above his rifle and pistol shooting badges and centered on the pocket.

While his uniform adhered perfectly to standards, as it always had, Patrick’s face looked different. Was this “afterglow”? It seemed strange that the excitement and serenity he felt inside radiated on the outside. Technically, he was still a gay virgin. He and Don had decided to wait until next time to “go all the way,” but if last night was the appetizer, he couldn’t hold off much longer for the main course.

“What’s so funny, my handsome Devildog?” Don approached him from behind, naked, and much to Patrick’s enjoyment, semi-hard. “Damn, Lieutenant, I thought I got up early! It’s not even zero-five-thirty yet.”

“Can’t be late for my first day at the new squadron. Besides, I didn’t sleep much—not that I wanted to between our three times. I couldn’t take my eyes off you sleeping.”

“Spoken like a real hard-charger,” Don said, using “Marine-speak” for “overachiever.” He tugged at the flaps of Patrick’s blouse, straightening a few wrinkles on the back. “Perfect.”

“Where’d you go last night when you stepped out? I missed you.”

“To the pay phone in the lobby. Seemed safest to go when none of your fellow officers would be awake. Didn’t see anyone but the clerk. He was asleep.”

“Who’d you call?” Patrick frowned at the off-center knot in his tie.

“Eddie.” Don sounded concerned. “He always returns my calls. I’m a little worried.” He moved his nude body in front of the mirror. “Let me help you.”

“Maybe he went somewhere and hooked up.” Don looked even better first thing in the morning and Patrick felt his penis getting hard. “Like his best friend.”

Don retied the knot, smiling when he brushed against Patrick’s bulge. “It’d do him some good. But he wouldn’t be away this long. Not with Rocky at home.”

Patrick let his eyes enjoy every square inch of his overnight guest. “Wish I had a camera.” He squeezed Don’s meat as Don finished adjusting the necktie. “Me, in my alphas, getting ready to check into my new squadron. You, helping me, standing there naked as when you were born, but hot as hell. And they say homosexuality isn’t compatible with military service.”

Don finished the tie and squeezed his young lover gently on his upper arm, carefully avoiding the lieutenant bars pinned to the shoulder epaulets of his uniform. “I’d say we’re compatible.” Giving Patrick a tender peck on the cheek, he said, “I won’t touch you because this uniform is flawless. And you’re right, you should—and will—make a great impression this morning.” Don searched the room for his boxers and jeans. “Make half as good of an impression on them as you’ve made on me and they’ll meritoriously promote you to captain.”

“If officers could be meritoriously promoted, the ass kissing would be even worse than it already is.” Patrick picked up his garrison cap to walk with Don out to his car.

“Aren’t you a little young to be so cynical?” Don asked, putting on his socks and shoes. “Besides, you’re a damn good ass kisser yourself, from what I remember.” He winked and pulled his shirt over his head. Picking up his coat, he added somberly, “I know it’s the ‘officer and a gentleman’ thing for you to walk me to my car, but we can’t risk it. No one can see us together. Especially not here at the BOQ.”

Reality crashed into Patrick’s room like an uninvited guest. What he and Don did last night was illegal according to the Uniform Code of Military Justice. But it felt right and in Patrick’s heart he knew there was nothing wrong with it. Unfortunately, their government and their Corps held a different opinion. “What the fuck? What business is it of theirs?”

“None. That’s why we don’t tell them and we don’t let them figure it out.” Putting his hand on the doorknob, he said, “I haven’t felt this good in years. What you and I did last night—what we have here, right now—is ours alone. No one can take it from us and it’s none of their goddamn business. But we gotta be smart.”

Patrick nodded that he understood even though the situation infuriated him. “I feel the same. And I hope—I hope that—”

Don gave Patrick a “can’t wait to see you again very soon” kiss. “Hope is good. Give me a call tonight. Tell me how your first day goes.” He smiled and opened the door. Seeing the hallway was vacant, he stepped outside.

Patrick remained in the room. He couldn’t have gone outside anyway because he had to wait for his erection to go down. “Damn. Feels like I’m a teenager again,” he said, grinning. “Only nothing like this ever happened to me in high school, that’s for sure.”