"Seduced By The Sea" - Chapter V
By Griz
umgriz@protonmail.com
*** The following story is a work of erotic fiction. If you are under the age of 18 or if this type of fiction is prohibited in the location where you are reading this, do not read any further.
All characters and names are creations of the author. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
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Satellite communication is my favorite invention in recent history. GPS, or Global Positioning System, knows where my ship is at all times. It makes a navigation officer's job only a headache, and not the migraine suffered by anyone on a bridge in all previous generations. Now ships took the lighthouse with them, and rocks were very rarely the hazards they once were.
Satellites were also our Apollo, bringing messages from the gods in Washington, and taking ours back in return. Mine was a one-month mission on the Nimitz. Captain Jack Starling was in consideration for advancement, and I was there to receive instruction from the admiral and report back observations as requested, and only when requested. I was not to volunteer any information without first requesting permission to do so. This was, I'll admit, spying on friendly territory. The questions I received by email were very clear, and very clearly answered by affirmative' or negative'.
With not a lot to do right after returning from the mac and cheese orgy in my mouth, I sequestered in my quarters, plugged my old iPod in and settled on a rare Stan Getz and Bill Evans album from before the ship I rode was even launched (which was 1975, incidentally). There wasn't much music I didn't listen to, though what I actually liked encompassed a narrower slice from the audible spectrum. Messieurs Getz, Evans and Weiss would pass time and LORAN-C beacons together.
Side note: Can you guess why sailors still train on LORAN-C, although it's antiquated and greatly surpassed in constant accuracy by GPS? Because a satellite can't be trusted entirely now. Russia has acknowledged their capability to destroy satellites, and intention to do so. While we fight that menace, the United States Military maintains LORAN-C technology and beacons around the globe. Just in case. Sextants and compasses, too; just in case LORAN-C acts up or goes down. That's the reason millions of military members, past, present and future, exist: Just in case.
I opened my personal email. Proton Mail. Not US Military-secure, but damned near close. There is no excuse not to use it, and encourage everyone you know to use it. I've never trusted Gmail. Okay, I'm done shilling for technology service providers, but really: check out Proton Mail. Tell `em Zach sent you (Though someone there will likely write you right back and tell you they don't know any Zach. That's how private and secure they are.....). ZachWeissUSN@protonme.com. That's between you and me.
So.....emails from the University of Montana Alumni Association, asking yet again for donations. Same from Columbia Law School. Someday, Guys. Hmmm.....an email from the former Mrs Weiss. I like emails from my ex. We're always going to be friends, and she's a good friend. Messages from her are an armful of flowers and all the Sun in the sky shining on them on this gray day at sea.
"What's the deal, SEAL? How're you doing, wherever you are? Everything's fine here. Work is still play and play is still work (Rachel was an entertainment contract law attorney, but she sometimes worked behind the scenes at the Pasadena Playhouse in the comparatively mundane tasks of running props and costumes during shows).
Miriam and I celebrated another year together. Her parents are delighted---she landed a lawyer. Mine are accepting, though grudgingly. Her being a rabbi is a feather in the family cap, though my mother won't admit it to me. She gushes to all the other Bubbies, though. It gets back to me.
So.....speaking of Bubbies.....my mom wants to be one. Miriam and I have decided to get all family-like. I want you to be part of that. Mom would get a grandchild, and she'd give you a parade in your honor through downtown Denver. I know this is a lot to ask, Zach; and I should be asking you in person or on the phone.
I can write kilobytes into megabytes and onto terabytes trying to convince you why you're the perfect candidate for Mir's and my child, but here are the only important reasons: you contribute good genes, good looks and good family history. You're a good man, and if you chose to be actively involved, which we would welcome, you'd be a good father. Finally: My only regret in all of our time together is that we weren't parents. I know we didn't want kids at the time, but now.....well, here we are. I love you, Zach; you know that.
Please consider this. Oh----Miriam has seen your pictures, and wants to know what your `stud fee' is. She also said----and I go with her on this---if you would consider this, we'd come to you, and we want this done the old-fashioned way. Volumes have been written about the differences in chemical reactions in the entire birth canal between a turkey baster and an equally-shaped, equally tumescent Zach's Baster. I doubt you've forgotten how you did that. The lower half of my body hasn't forgotten how you did that, for fuck's sake.
So, that's about it. We bought a house that already has the perfect nursery, right off the primary bedroom. It's close to good schools, and even the oldest Hebrew Yeshiva on the West Coast. Regardless of your answer, I hope you'll someday come to Hollyweird and see it and us. Maybe all three of us. That was a hint, Zach.
Gotta go; the playhouse is West-coast premiering a new Harvey Fierstein play. It's thirty years after Arthur and Marion's meeting after Collin's death in `On Tidy Endings'. Their daughter Jenny is all grown up, trying to know her father by way of a much-older Arthur. Jenny reveals to Arthur what her own mother doesn't know yet: she has pancreatic cancer, and not a lot of time. Arthur still has a lot to say about the inevitability of death and the endurance of love, and he has lost none of his zingy wit or sarcasm. Oh----and he's still really pissed off that Collin's family hovered around himself to understand the man who died and not the man before he died. Rare is the opportunity to be part of a multi-decade-later sequel, particularly one this good.
Take Care, Captain Zach; I hope you're living well, loving well and loved well in return. And whatever else you're doing, do it safely. There will be, if I have my way, some kid who'll want to know and know about his or her brave, hot, studly dad.
Oh---and I always get my way, don't I?
Love,
Rachel"
My ex-wife and I typically got our way and what we wanted. Mostly, I think, because we weren't shy about going after what we wanted. The Meek might inherit the Earth, but we were going to play with it first. Hmmm.....me, a father. I wasn't against the idea; not at all. If anything, I was inspired that Rachel wasn't letting Time slide by her. She bought a nest and was feathering it just right. She was planning. Planning, Zach.....pay attention to that. You can do that, too, you know; and maybe not just for yourself.
I pulled the cover down on my laptop and looked up. Rachel built a career, bought a house, and wanted a family. The family aspect alone.....hmmm.....if I did this, I'd be fifty when the kid graduated high school. That's not too old. Was it? Rachel would be 51. Miriam would be older still. What could I offer a kid? And then.....
What could I offer Tom? Ten years younger than I am. That's not too young. Not for me. Is ten years older too old for him? Does he want a home? Other than a floating, well-protected, nuclear-powered steel house? Kids? And.....why am I thinking about any of that? Just because Rachel is? Gotta think about something else.....those thoughts are too heavy after a heavy lunch.
I opened the laptop again, returning to my ex-wife's email. I paused for a moment to consider a response. Yeah, I could've waited a day, even a week, to write back; but when that woman sets her brain in action on something she really wants, it's because she has weighed all options, benefits, features and detriments, and for every reason to move forward, there'd be at least two for staying in place. For her to even ask me meant she'd done her homework. I didn't really have to do mine. Of course I'd help her and Miriam, whether I'd be involved in the kid's life or not. But, really.....I knew I'd like to be.
"Hi, Rache;
Congratulations on the home; I'm sure it's nice. I don't know that town at all, beyond what I saw in the movies. I wouldn't be at all surprised to read you're in some old movie star's house, or maybe a studio attorney's home. Send a photo, or at least an address; I'll go on Earth and find it.
Actually.....just send me the address. I'll need to know where you two are so we can get a third one on the way. Yes, I will contribute some Jewish SEAL sperm to the cause. Of course I will. You'll be a good mom, and although we never wanted kids, I think we were right not to at the time. Now, though; if you say it's the right time, I'll go with you on it.
I'm currently at sea, and planning on being Stateside in about a month. I'll stay in communication with you while underway to port. Say hi' to Miriam. Oh----I want you to know this---I'd like to be involved in more than the conception. I don't mean constant, day-to-day involvement, but maybe that, too. Let's talk at some point, but think about this and let me know if that's a deal-with-the-SEAL'-breaker.
Love You, Too, Counselor.
Zzzzz"
Other emails were not nearly as attention-grabbing as Rachel's. My parents were well. My brother was getting another degree, because what can you do with only three? Even numbers only! Our Own Personal Einstein was on track to be the world's best-educated civil engineer with the Montana Department of Transportation.
If there weren't ever ultra-high-speed MagLev trains connecting the Idaho border with the North Dakota border, and Glacier Park with Yellowstone Park, it wouldn't be my brother's fault; that would be due only to a lack of money and passengers. He'd already figured out how to build those trains. It was someone else's challenge to fill them profitably. Until then, why not get a post-doctoral degree in.....something? I love my brother. Not lazy at all.
I closed out of Proton Mail and opened the secure Department Of Defense email that the admiral of the fleet wanted me to use for his and my work. Nothing new from him since yesterday, so I had nothing else to write to him. I sent an email sharing our location as of that moment, if only so he knew when I was reading emails. I knew for anything urgent, though, I could expect a phone call.
I hoped to never get a phone call from him. If I did, it would mean my assignment has been changed to something more aligned with my skill set. Of course, I'd go; but I told Tom I wasn't letting go of him. My bags could carry a lot of gear, but not quite a gymnastic puppy. Fingers crossed for no phone calls.
The album was on its last track. I had nothing else to really do in that small room, and I wasn't in the mood to hit the treadmill. Not yet. Too early. Rondo and I had just been together, but I was enjoying his company, too. If he wanted to train with Tom and me, he was welcome to it. Rondo was still in prime physical condition, but to a US Navy SEAL, `prime' is a C-average grade on a "What I Did Last Summer" report. We don't want the hugest muscles on the planet; we just want the most efficient and obedient ones.
Other DoD emails were regarding issues already addressed, or events projected forward that would not affect me until well after landing back home. I needed to confer with the office handling my health insurance. Whatever was required to add a child to my coverage would require my attention within a month. Lots to consider.....because the child would be born mine, I could add it early for prenatal care. By virtue of that, I could get coverage for Rachel, too. Her career might end, and so would her insurance coverage. My insurance is guaranteed me for the rest of my life, and as long as I pay the adjusted premiums for them, my family, too.
My family. In the course of just a few minutes, the word family' was taking on new definitions and dimensions for me. I could provide a life, and then reasonable assurances that Science and Medicine would work on that life's behalf to keep it healthy and well. Recent adjustments' to the narrow definition of `family' got the United States Armed Forces up to the 21st Century, too. As a result: Someday, I can marry the person who is right for my life, and not only a well-intended convenience. I can provide insurance for him, too. Although.....it's possible a man I could find myself in a relationship with might have equally good insurance. Or just plain, old equal insurance. Both kinds: privileges for privileged people.
It's not lost on me that I am privileged. My commitment to my life's work is not to defend Liberty, Freedom and Justice for the Privileged only. It's for everyone. The very definition of Equity. My kid, my man, whomever they are or will be, deserve my commitment to protecting the same principles for them, too. They deserve health insurance, too.
So. What to contribute for name considerations? Zach the Third, of course. And if a girl? Zach, of course. Hebrews are a matrilineal people. Rachel could very simply name a daughter Rachel the Second. Anyone can do that, but for us, there's a slight difference. Despite the 1968 Reconstructionist Rabbinical Association's declaration that either parent determines a kid's `Jewishness' (and later, the same from the Reform group in 1984), both Rachel and I can trace our families back several centuries, and thus the traditions and customs, both Talmudic and Torahnic. So sang Anne Murray:
"Don't throw the past away; You might need it some rainy day. Dreams can come true again; When everything old is new again."
For whatever reason, a nap overtook me. I suppose eating a plate full of pasta and cheese would result in hibernation for anyone. I was awakened half an hour later by a knock on the hatch. I recognized that three-slow-knocks knock.
"Enter, Captain."
Rondo shook the levered handle a few times and smiled as he ducked through the opening and joined my little quarters.
"Your trousers remain on and secured.....I'm guessing I didn't interrupt anything. This time....."
"Just some sleep after lunch. I got my nap. Where's my juice box and a story?"
"Well.....probably in the Officers' Lounge later, actually. We're getting a briefing from Starling. Three bells. 19:30 hours. 7:30PM. You choose."
"Have a seat, Rondo."
I sat up from my supine position and leaned back against the bulkhead. I rubbed my eyes, which seemed tired and itchy for some reason.
"That's why you're here? To advise a briefing?"
"And.....this. Our own private briefing."
Rondo handed me two pieces of paper. The first was the November 2020 updated to OPNAVINST 5370.2E, the reporting process for personnel suspected of fraternization. It included a more robust description of what was acceptable and what was not, so idiots like myself and Donaldson can stop driving off a cliff before we even start the engine. I looked up from the page to Rondo and his stoic face.
"So now I have file references, and even a specific number. I am this ship's Hester Prynne, with my own scarlet letter. Is that what this is about?"
"Partly. You've read it, now give it back. I'll destroy it. If that page is even floating around, it's basically a big hint that something warranted the page being printed in the first place. You know how they'd do: they'll interview every single one of us until they find the culprit. I wanted you to see this. Now you have. That's all."
Yeah, the subject was specific to what Tom and I had been discovered in. I don't regret anything regarding him, except letting myself operate well outside the lines of my training, and mostly, just what makes me, me. I have great respect for order and responsibility. I did not mind Rondo reminding me. If anything, I appreciated it.
"Damn. Okay. Received, acknowledged and confirmed. `Got it', in other words."
"So what're you going to do for the next twenty-seven days?"
"Spend each of them training with him, you and anyone else who wants to join. I realize now I can't make this exclusive to him and me. But each moment we're sweating together, it'll have to be enough until we are off this ship."
"The regulation doesn't stay aboard just because you walk off, you know. You really need to be careful, Zach. Can I ask you something: is this just about getting off? Because if it is-----well, I'm going to tell you right now-----I don't play on your and Donaldson's team, but I've been known to walk onto the diamond for an inning or two. It's just sex for me. Sex I like. I like raw, aggressive, masculine sex, and that's not going to be with a woman, but it can be at sea. So, while this might be embarrassing you, know that if it's just the sex you're wanting or needing, I can proxy Donaldson. That regulation says nothing about two four-stripers stripping and getting busy."
"Fuck, you're serious."
"Yup. It's just sex. I like sex with men, on occasion. You do, too; although you have the emotional component in play here. I don't. I'll get in a man's bunk, but I'm not staying the night."
"I am a little lost here, in terms of a response. Other than the same `received, acknowledged and confirmed."
"But not affirmed."
"No. Not at this precise moment. I'm still trying to make sure I'm not still in my nap and dreaming this.....briefing. You've allied with Donaldson and me, and you're offering a temporary, ersatz solution, which I appreciate. Can't deny that what you like sexually is what I like. Also, I can't deny that little gymnast fucker has piqued some emotional interest, as well. I don't even fathom that, considering we just met."
"Sometimes these things just happen like that. Sometimes two people meet and grow together. You know how many arranged marriages there are all over the globe? And many of those are actually successful, because something sparked between two people who'd never once met in their lives. My own folks, though not in arranged marriage, arranged one very quickly----before their own parents found out my big brother was on his way. Now that same Cherokee man and Irish woman are deeply in love, and regret nothing from the moment they first smiled at each other. Different time, different cultures there. I am not saying that'll happen for you and Donaldson, but there's no reason to think it can't-----or won't. But not here, and not now. Do not waste your career and accomplishments, and don't fuck his up, either. Both careers are beyond promising, if they're pursued properly."
"Thanks for that, too. And the context, as well. So, maybe there's a reason beyond brain chemistry that gravitates me to that medic. Something about him..... Time will tell, I guess. I'm willing to invest in that, AND keep my mind on my career and my commitment to Navy and Country. I owe you for this wake-up call. I've heard of guys who could have sex with each other, but remain straight. Now I've met one."
"You've met one who is honest about it. You've likely met well over a hundred in your lifetime. We're a curious hybrid. But you're one of us, you know."
"You think I'm straight?!"
"No, but I think you were married. WERE."
"Yeah, I was, but.....oh. I think I get it. Never thought of it that way....."
"So you knew you weren't in love when you married, but you played an inning or two on that team, right?"
"Right."
"Okay. Well, we've covered that. Second page....."
Rondo handed it over while I relinquished the regulation information.
"These are watch hours.....okay, so.....?"
"Whose watch hours?"
"Not yours and not mine. I have no watch hours. I'm a hitch-hiker, kinda."
"Hmmm.....you're right about that....."
"Oh. OH. Donaldson."
"Maybe."
"Possibly or probably?"
"The United States Navy does not deal in possibilities. We create probabilities and turn them into certainties. Whether on watch or not."
"So I can maybe determine a training schedule that's around his watch....."
"Possibly or probably?"
"Certainly. Thanks, Rondo."
"It's my pleasure. Sounds weird, but I mean that. We are an entirely volunteer force here. We chose this life, but we can choose to be as happy as possible, rather than lonely and miserable. Seeing your gymnast will make you happy. The other thing: that'll make you sweat. And sore, if I may boast and brag. And that stands. You decide. Logistics can be figured out later."
"I've been approached by men since before I was one, but you're the first one to say your being hetero is not a deterrent. Ummm.....what.....limits do you feel comfortable with?"
"Saliva and cum only. As for who pitches and who catches in this game? There's no position I haven't played. I just like to play. Also: I like aggressive sex, and I like just plain, old tender kisses. Your limits?"
"Same as yours. As I mentioned to a certain medic when he was in these quarters: I am at home on either of these bunks."
"Good to know. Okay, well, that's no longer a mystery."
"`No longer'? You mean it was a mystery before now??"
"Well.....let's just say I've thought since you got aboard that you were a mountain I had every interest in climbing, and a valley that looked good to explore, too. And Captain Weiss, I don't want to marry you. I just want to fuck you."
Well, that's clear now, too. Damn. Rondo and I spoke in a ton of metaphors, but he wrapped them up in a nice, tidy bow with that last statement. I knew early on that he was exactly on my list of preferences. Hearing him tell me I'm on his? That's about as unlikely as meeting another Montanan, even from opposite ends of the state and at opposite ends of this ship, who began chipping away at the armor around my heart the moment he told me I was going to get a sunburn. All of it unlikely, but I liked all of it. I had some thinking to do.
"I got my blood drawn yesterday in the clinic. Just waiting for results. When was the last time you did yours?"
"Over a year ago. I take temporary measures during sex, whether on him or on me, so the results will always show nothing but red cells, white cells and platelets in the long run. By the way: temporary measures of different types and materials are made free of charge on this ship in the clinics, sick bays and aid stations. That's Navy regulation. BLUMEDINST 6222.10. Sooooo.....not a fan of them, though. They're evidence I don't really need anyone seeing. With a woman, though? Every single time. There are other consequences with that, and I'm not ready to be confronted by one. Or two, if they're twins."
"No argument there either, actually. Still....."
"It's been over a year. Time to get some blood drawn, don't you think? And maybe.....compare results?"
"If you're asking me professionally, I'd advise it."
"And personally?"
"I'd advise it."
"Looks like a particular watch schedule indicates how the clinic is staffed at present. Don't you also think it'd be a good idea to check up on the wellness of our mess companion? He's not accustomed to that food, even if it was the ultimate `Grandma's Soup And Salad' lunch."
"`Officers are required to maintain and be responsible for the health and wellness of his man'. It's in regulation ZACH-SEZ 6969.11"
"I am here to know regulations, but that one is new. I think I can guess the department and author, and even the first four digits. The last two, though. Most unusual. Those typically end in a five or a zero. Where does an eleven come in?"
"I think you'll find what that `eleven' goes in and comes in for yourself. I'll let you know. Until then....."
I stood up from the bunk, which by natural reaction caused Rondo to stand. He scooted the chair back to the desk. He and I were only an inch in height difference and maybe eighteen inches in separation. Being a SEAL, I don't wait for the other party to come to where I am; I go to him, with certainty. Rondo smirked at me and I returned it. Now we were a lot closer. Both of us looked into each other's brown eyes and saw only a friend, no foe, in them.
It's strange, the courage it took for me to raise my left hand and hold it behind Rondo's neck, but the courage found me. A second later, my lips found Rondo's. Holy fuck. If that guy is straight and he kisses a man, this man, like that? I can only imagine that what he gives a woman has HER shopping for an engagement ring. Rondo's hands went to my hips and the kiss continued for perhaps half of a minute. The first I'd had in months, and the first good kiss in years. It's a shame to say that when I was only 32 at the time, but I'd known good quality in the few kisses I had shared, like the one between Rondo and me.
He pulled me close. The thin beige trousers fabric that separated us betrayed our hardness. That made the kiss only that much more intense and pleasurable. I actually moaned when Rondo's hands moved slowly but deliberately from my hips to my ass. It seemed he liked what he found at my stern, because it was his turn to moan. We continued another minute or two, and then I released the pressure of my hand on his neck, and politely stopped trying to eat his mouth. Rondo responded in kind, dropping his hands from my ass.
"And you're straight....."
"And you're Winkte. So we have some things in common, besides rank and uniform."
"That was.....incredible."
"Sigh.....I know. I'm a snack. And a gift."
"Rondo.....I don't know what you are, but you're a friend and a good officer. A great kisser. Fuck."
"Yes, I can do that, too. Keep it in mind."
"Right now I'm trying to figure out how to keep my dick in my trousers."
I looked down and was pleased to see no Wet Spot Of Betrayal. I looked at Rondo's uniform. He was okay, too. We deflated fairly quickly and walked out of my quarters, headed amidships and up. The clinic wasn't far away, but in narrow spaces and up lots of ladders, it seemed to be an endless trek. Nothing I'm not used to, but this mission seemed to have a unique urgency to it. First, I'd see Tom. Second, a potential sex partner was getting blood drawn to confirm he's as clean as I was.
We finally found our way to the clinic. Three men waiting. Rondo and I walked toward the window. We were saluted by them, as well as a first lieutenant behind the window, a young woman who would probably look all her years like she was born and raised on a farm, freshly scrubbed and eager to live her life.
"Welcome. How may I help today?"
"Thank you. I need blood drawn for a full panel."
"You're in the right place, Captain. Please be comfortable for a few minutes. I'll alert the medics."
"Are you sure it's only a few minutes? You look busy. I can return."
"I'm sure, Captain. We perform many procedures here. And Captain Weiss? May I schedule something for you, as well?"
"No, but thank you. I am accompanying Captain Standing Bear."
"Understood. Captain, if you have time, one of the doctors is available to you for discussion about your own test results."
"Ah. Can I schedule a consultation for tomorrow? First available appointment."
"Sir, we schedule around the clock in this clinic. It's really whatever works well for you."
"08:00 hours."
"08:00 hours, Captain Weiss."
Only moments later, there stood Ensign Donaldson. He saluted, which we both returned. A smile followed, which we also returned.
"Captain Standing Bear. Captain Weiss. Welcome. Are you here together?"
I was lost for a moment in his eyes and smile. You damned little stud. I want to ravage you, here and now. Claim you. Mark you. Make you mine. And I suspect---or at least hope---all of that is desired mutually.
"We are, though I'm only accompanying."
"Ensign, Captain Weiss is joining me for this procedure. Will there be room for the three of us?"
"Captain, the most space would be in one of the exam rooms. If you'll both come this way, I can help you be comfortable. I'll get the supplies I need and join you, and then scrub."
We were led down a surprisingly wide passageway. It made sense, its width; a hospital gurney might require the extra room to navigate. Tom stood beside a door to a room, and reached in to turn on the lights. Rondo and I walked in, and Tom motioned to a chair beside a table where Tom could sit opposite him and perform the blood drawing. I sat at a chair beside Rondo. Tom was gone only briefly, and returned with everything he needed. The hatch to the exam room was secured. We had privacy. He washed his hands and sat.
"Which arm do you prefer, Captain Standing Bear?"
"Left arm, please."
"Thanks. Do you have any allergies?"
"Yes. Latex and bee venom."
"Understood."
"Does the sight or use of needles for this procedure cause you nausea or fainting?"
"No, but I haven't seen the size of the needle you're going to use yet. It's not something like eleven inches long, is it?"
I coughed to prevent myself from laughing. Tom looked at Rondo with a questioning expression on his face, but said nothing.
"That was a joke, Donaldson. I'm not afraid of needles, though I haven't taken anything as big as eleven inches before. I'm sure I'll be fine here."
I coughed again. Damn you, Rondo. Stop with the jokes, you fuck! Tom smiled and reached for an elastic cord marked `natural rubber'
"To confirm: this is venous sampling, correct?"
"It is. No concerns. This is the first in a year. Just keeping myself awake and aware."
"Understood, Sir. Your vascularity is going to make my job easy, but please make a fist, Captain."
Rondo did as directed. Tom tapped his fingertip on the vein and removed the guard from the needle.
"Okay, I'm goin' in....."
It was all over in the breath of a second, and the blood began filling vials, which Tom has labeled before bringing into the exam room. Once Tom The Vampire got everything he needed, he loosened the cord just above Rondo's elbow and applied a cotton ball to the entry site, removing the needle quickly.
"Apply pressure for a moment, Sir; raise your arm if you wish."
Rondo did, turning his head to smirk at me. I don't know what had him grinning, but I went along with it. Once all the vials were in the little purple plastic basket, Tom pulled the plastic strips off the Band-Aid. I smiled at Tom.
"Ah, I AM special; I got a Snoopy. Captain Standing Bear gets only camo."
"Wait----you got a Snoopy?! What's up with that, Donaldson?"
Tom leaned in and spoke low, his eyes on me.
"Captain Standing Bear, um, Captain Weiss was correct. I mean.....in what he said. Um, the first part.....of what he said.....Sir."
I smiled and raised my eyebrows, making an `I told you so' face at Rondo.
"You heard the surgeon! No Snoopy for you!"
We all laughed, and Rondo rolled the sleeve of his blouse down. Before standing again, Tom asked if he might be of additional service to either of us. We declined, but I spoke additionally.
"Once you've returned, please join us here for further consultation. I'll be brief."
Tom affirmed, and with a nod of his head. He looked serious. It was going to be serious, what we had to discuss. Tom walked through the door to place the vials in a little refrigerator, and then returned with a urine sample cup, also labeled.
"Captain Standing Bear, at your convenience, will you please fill this and return to me?"
Rondo nodded and held the cup in his hand. He looked at me, saying nothing. I could see in his eyes, though, that he was going with me, whatever I had to say.
"Donaldson, do you have an appointment waiting?"
"No, Captain Weiss."
"I want to talk about gymnastics for a moment. Please listen carefully to what I am saying, and I will listen the same way to you in response.
"Gymnastics, Sir?"
"Yes."
".....Understood."
"But not really, right?"
"That's affirmative, Captain Weiss."
"You are on the Olympic team, I recall you telling me."
"Correct, Sir."
"But you haven't participated in games yet."
"Correct."
"You're with elite athletes on the team, and you are respected and welcomed as one, yourself. So, let's say the games are coming up. Just about a month away. You and a senior gymnast are looking forward to them, and although you have plans to devote time to each other to work on the finer points of your abilities, the hustle and bustle of the gym are too much for you and your close senior team mate friend to get any time alone. It's so busy in the gym that there is neither time nor space for the two of you. And let's say it's an established rule in the gym and on the team that senior and new team members may not train alone, just the two of them. Are you with me, Lieutenant?"
".....I understand what you're saying, Sir.....I mean, I know all the words you're using....."
Rondo laughed, but covered his mouth immediately. He looked at me and smiled, shaking his head. He turned to Tom.
"Donaldson, it's the rules: you and the senior member can't train together. The rules suck, and are probably in place because two knuckleheads ruined it for everyone. But the two really want to be together and share all they know, and their passion.....for the sport.
So, though unfair, you can't train with your buddy, and the games are a month away. An agonizing long time to be away from your friend and team mate. Nothing can be done about it; not if you both want to stay on the team....."
"Ohhh.....I think I can see where this is headed, Captain. And Captain Weiss."
I shook my head. This is not how SEALS do communication. SEALs are direct, and though sometimes brutal, it's how we get results for our missions. I leaned forward and spoke with a lower and quieter voice.
"Tom. Captain Standing Bear caught you and me in something that was genuinely mutual in its intention. He's not going to bust us. But that can't happen again, or both our careers are over, and his, too, if he's called to answer the question if he was aware of our behavior previously. And all this is because of heavy-duty and well-intentioned rules against fraternization. I have, perhaps, too many stripes and you don't have enough. Well, not yet; you will.
The reason we're here is because we have an opportunity, Captain Standing Bear and myself, to engage the way you and I were planning on earlier. Captain Standing Bear would be your `second', if you will, thinking in terms of an histori duel. It's permissible, thought not exactly encouraged, because we share rank. He is interested and I am interested in sharing physically and intimately. There is only one thing stopping us at this point, and that's you having any issue with it."
"You mean, you're asking permission from me? That's what it sounds like, Zach. Oh! Fuck! I mean, Captain Weiss!"
"Forget about that. But whether it's permission or just well-deserved respect for you, I want to know if you're okay with it."
"You mean you two haven't.....yet?"
"No. I haven't been.....intimate.....with anyone since being aboard. Not for a long time before then, actually."
"Wow.....damn. Pardon my language, Captains. That's a lot to hear. Oh, and this time, I understand entirely what you're saying, Captain Weiss. Ummm.....these are uncharted waters for me.....damn.....sorry.....okay, so, permission to speak freely in this specific conversation?"
Both Rondo and I spoke at the same time.
"Granted."
"So. You and I can't do what we needed and were going to do, and we got busted, and because neither of us thought to secure the hatch lock. That's on us. No argument. Now, though, we can't do anything while aboard this ship for the next month, and maybe not after, I'm guessing. But you two can, because you're of equal rank. Correct so far?"
"Correct."
Tom was silent a moment and looked at the grey tiles on the clinic floor. He raised his head and looked at each of us for another moment.
"You're both taking a risk in even talking with me about this. I respect that. I respect both of you. I also respect that a month is a long time to live a `dry life', surrounded by water. I have three questions to ask, if that's okay."
Rondo affirmed that was acceptable.
"First question. Captain Weiss, is it your intention I'll still train with you, though?"
"Yes. Nothing about this would change anything about that, as long as you still want to train with me."
"Ah. Got it. Second question. Captain Standing Bear, are you going to take him away from me? Don't, Sir. Please."
"No. This would be purely barnyard, a term I'm sure you're both familiar with. I am straight, but I like sex with men. It's not uncommon; particularly not on a ship at sea. I understand and respect, now more than ever, that you both have something potentially more than pure barnyard."
"Okay. And at least from my end, you're right, Captain Standing Bear. Third question....."
Tom didn't speak, but he turned red and smiled. I cocked my head and pulled my eyebrows together, entirely uncertain what he was going to ask. What else was there? I'd told Tom exactly where I stood, what opportunity there was for Rondo and me to fuck, and would it be okay with Tom. Rondo seemed curious, too.
"Donaldson, you had a third question for Captain Weiss and myself?"
"Yes. Can I watch?!"
Rondo and I sat dumbfounded for a moment, and just like in a movie, we looked at each other as if to ask, `Did he just say what I think he said?!' Then we laughed, and Tom, now thoroughly red, joined us. Well, Tom wasn't going to kill me in my sleep, and I had zero concern he'd visit the same vengeance of Rondo. Still.....
"Um, no! Same reason. But, damn....."
"Well, that sucks. You two are so fuckin' hot on your own, the thought of you together is now going to be my fantasy until I'm dead. Oh---and yeah, I said a bad word. I apologize if you're offended and it's breach of conduct, but damn, Captains; HECK, YEAH! I will live vicariously through whatever you're going to do with him, Captain Standing Bear! You're not taking him away from me, and I choose to trust you both on that. Thank you for even thinking enough of me to bring this up. You have no obligation to me."
I looked Tom dead in the eye.
"Yeah, I do. I do, Tom. Every obligation."
"That goes for me, too, Lieutenant. It's very poorly balanced, us getting to share in a way that you can't."
"Thank you, Captain Standing Bear; but I'm not exactly going without. I mean, I've been presented with opportunities already. I haven't acted on them, though. I don't think we can have the same privacy you will get. But if you're okay with it, Zach.....goddamn it.....Captain Weiss, and I'm okay with you two, well, then we get what we all need in that regard, and I still get to train SEAL-style, too. And.....you're still mine."
I looked at Tom with a smile, and I hoped he wouldn't see it, a bit of moisture in my eyes.
"Can I ask YOU a question?"
"Of course."
"Is he, whomever he is, going to take you away from me?"
"Not a goddamned chance, Zach. Oh-----I mean, CAPTAIN. My apologies for repeated offenses and failure to adhere to protocol!"
We all laughed, each of us relieved the conversation----and the blood drawing---were over. Well, almost over. Rondo had to pee in a cup, and I had a final concern.
"You are aware, I'm sure, that it is within protocol for a senior officer to address other officers by their given name. You've both heard me say `Tom'. I will continue to do that, and in public, as well----when appropriate. Not in front of Enlisted, though. In private, if and when that's possible and neither of us is on watch, I will extend my compliments to you and suggest you are welcome to call me Zach. Never in written communication; only verbally. The same does not apply to Captain Standing Bear, unless he indicates otherwise to you directly. Is that clear, Tom?"
"It's clear, Captain Weiss. Thank you."
"I am truly sorry you and I can't be together the way we want to. Not at present, anyway. We'll figure it out for the long run, though."
"I want a long run, I think, Captain Weiss."
Rondo smiled like he actually believed Tom.
"And I hope both you guys will get that. It's pretty clear to me your own interests have nothing to do with a barnyard. Well, probably not most of the time. Lieutenant, I'm going to charge you with a grave responsibility, though. In any event you are not comfortable with this agreement, you are to address this with me directly. You know the channels to reach me. Request a meeting. You can't be denied that. You two just met, but I'm not going to interfere with anything you have on any basis other than.....well, you get it. All this, and you just met."
Tom looked at both of us and smiled gently and shook his head.
"No, Sir; we have known each other for lifetimes. We're just finally getting where we need to be in this one."
Maybe a little too `out there' for me, but the sentiment behind it was well within my heart. Rondo smiled and stood, asking where the head was. He had a cup to fill. That left Tom and me together.
"Tom. What he said applies to me, too. If at any time you're not comfortable with this agreement, this arrangement, tell me. It ends immediately."
"Thank you, Sir. I will offer the same in return. It ends immediately. A month isn't so very long, but if some friendly behavior helps it go fast and as a stand-in for what is really wanted, a genuine heart-felt desire, then I'm not going anywhere, and you're not, either. May I ask you a fairly personal question?"
"Of course."
"Why did you two get blood tests? Does it have to do with this?"
"Very personal. The reason is none of your business. Not professionally. Personally.....you heard Captain Standing Bear's allergies, correct?"
Tom looked at the floor and then raised his head, smiling.
"I remember."
"Problem?"
"Raw! Captain, nothing as hot as that can ever be a problem with me! That is ultimate trust you'd have in each other!"
"Thank you. And for the record: I wish we could affirm your third question. Somehow.....that would just be insanely hot. And honestly.....watching you two would be hot for me."
"Sir....."
"Yes, Tom?"
"Thank you. Thank you for asking. Thank you for respecting me enough to even think of asking. You are an honorable officer. I will strive toward that, myself."
"Thank you, too, Tom. As for `honorable'? You're already there. Also: salutes are good, and they're required. What isn't required, but still good? A handshake. As long as it follows a salute and I initiate it in public, it's good."
I leaned in close and whispered.
"And every goddamned time, Tom, that handshake is a proxy for a kiss we will share properly, eventually. Know that and believe that."
I stood straight again, keeping my eyes on Tom's. He was silent and ramrod straight. He saluted me with respect and sincerity. I returned it. Arms at our sides again, eyes still on each other, my furry stud-fuck cub gymnast dropped his eyes from mine to my right hand, and then back to my eyes.
Message received, loud and clear.
I lifted my arm and extended my hand to him. Tom took it with his own. There was no shake. Our hands remained still, firmly connected. And Tom Donaldson from Baker, Montana, firmly squeezed my hand twice. I returned it with one of my own, longer in duration. During our touch, innocent for everyone but the two men sharing it, Tom leaned ever-so slightly toward me, inhaling deeply and very discreetly. He smiled. I leaned forward toward him and did the same. I closed my eyes for a moment and then exhaled. Holy fuck. We were, right then, just two male animals disguised as men and United States Navy officers.
Another second later, the shake was over, and with Rondo's return from the head with his filled cup, so was the appointment. Tom thanked Rondo.
"Thank you, Captain Standing Bear. I will perform the lab analysis myself, and have the results available for one of the doctors to share with you. I will make it my next priority, actually. If you both should choose, I can schedule an additional appointment for results and review tomorrow, 08:00."
Rondo consented, and as we walked the short distance to the door, Rondo placed his hand on Tom's shoulder.
"Lieutenant Donaldson, I want you to know it is personally an honor to know you, and to share.....mutual interests with you. I promise you I will be careful and respectful throughout our association. Professionally speaking, you are good at your job on this ship. The United States Navy thanks you for your service, and I thank you for your time today. Even if I didn't rate highly enough to get a Snoopy."
We all laughed, and Tom opened the door for Rondo and me to walk through, back down the almost laughably wide passageway and into the outer waiting room. A final salute and a smile from Tom, and Rondo and I walked through the maze, the military version of the board game `Chutes And Ladders', winding up outside on Rondo's lead.
The sea air and relatively strong wind bringing it was refreshing. We walked past men who snapped salutes at us, which we returned. We approached the stern, having seen the signal that no planes were expected, giving us a little freedom to move where we wanted on deck, and have some privacy.
"Zach....."
"Yeah? I'm right here....."
"Smart-ass. I WAS SAYING.....'with great freedom comes grave responsibility'. You and I need to remember that."
"Agreed. And we still need to be discreet. It might be `legal' for us, but we still have careers. And one fuck-up would break that kid's heart. That would be awful, too."
"Any idea when you'd like to.....?"
"Right now."
"But we just saw and talked with Tom. A little soon, isn't it?"
"A few hours, yeah. Lab results tomorrow for both of us, and honestly----for Tom to see, too. For his own peace of mind."
"Zach, that kid is just a kid, but his level-headed maturity is off the charts."
"Oh, yeah. But he's a randy fuck, too---`can I watch'! That just adds to my compulsion for him."
"Yes, I got that. I got hard, too. Honestly, what I walked in on between you two was.....so hot. I was almost watching you two. Well, watching you MORE, almost. I have no doubt you'll get some good sex with him, somehow, someday."
"The sex.....it can wait now. You very kindly and generously provided an opportunity, even if only for you and me."
"True, but it's just sex, and not with Tom Donaldson."
"I want, as soon as we can after 08:00 tomorrow, you and me back in my quarters, Rondo; for whatever we do. But I need the time between now and tomorrow. Tom's face, his scent, all of him; all fresh in my mind. While you were peeing in the cup, Tom Donaldson made love to Zach Weiss."
"Oh?"
"It was all in a handshake."