Sounding the Depths

by Maria-Claire Payne

  “Go home. Think some more about this. I’m making you an appointment to come back next week and talk to the recruiter. You still want in—he’ll take care of you then.”

  Michael frowned, confused, not expecting this after Josh’s ‘hooyah’ speech earlier. “Don’t you still believe in what we’re fighting for?”

  “I believe—and I believe in you.” Josh turned to Michael’s companion. “What do you think?”

  Josh tried not to smile at the surprise on Sean’s face. Guess he didn’t see that question coming.

  “I totally support Michael,” the young man asserted, his tone intense. His blue eyes reflected pride and trepidation, anticipation and teenage angst, all rolled together, he and his lover poised on the brink of manhood, ready to take that plunge. Together…

  “Next week, then.” Josh stood up and reached out to shake Michael’s hand. “And son,” Josh walked the pair to the door, his gaze on the thin T-shirt Michael wore, “I suggest leaving those nipple rings alone until you sign on the dotted line. Re-piercing’s a bitch.”

  Josh stepped out to watch the couple hold hands when they slipped around the block, unaware that Josh enjoyed a clear view through the wrap-around plate-glass windows of the restaurant they cornered.

  “Did I just hear you call him ‘son’?” Todd sank into the chair Michael had vacated. “He’ll be back, you know. Sure you don’t want to sign back up and take my job?”

  “Dude, I’m out of here.” Josh ran one hand through his hair.

  “You okay?” Todd frowned.

  “I will be.” Josh grabbed his helmet and headed out the door.

  * * * *

  Unsure, yet determined, Josh slid the key card Ethan had given him into the hotel door. He held his breath—the code still worked. He breathed out and pushed the door open.

  Ethan sat in a chair, silent.

  “Lana found Ben. No letter, no note, no phone call. No text.” Josh paced back and forth. “Nothing.”

  Ethan remained silent.

  Josh grew angry but he fought to control his temper, desperate to make Ethan understand. “Don’t you fucking get it? I volunteered for that last deployment to get away from Ben, his relentless neediness, his goddamned hang-dog look. To get away from all of him.”

  Ethan looked up. “He wasn’t yours to fix, Josh.”

  Josh sank down on the edge of the bed, running one hand through his curls. “Got into the Navy believing I’d make a difference. Hooked up with Ben thinking I’d make a difference. All these years chasing red balloons.”

  Hurtling himself out of his chair, Ethan caught Josh off guard, lifting him to his feet and shoving him against a wall. “Fucking false pride, man. Hubris. You saved lives. I’m not going to stroke your ego. I saved lives too. But Ben wasn’t some ‘mission’ to accomplish.”

  Josh twisted away from Ethan’s grip, breathing heavy, Josh’s anger matching Ethan’s own. “Fuck you.”

  “No, God damn it. Your father, Ben…damaged goods, those two, before you ever showed up in their miserable existences. Carrying this misplaced guilt—that’s false pride, man. You know it.”

  Josh slid down the wall, his head in his hands. “I’m not certain of anything anymore.” This pain, this confusion—it was a visceral hurt that churned deep in his gut.

  Ethan cleared his throat. “Mate, when you approach every man like he’s an IED about to blow up in your face, you anticipate a whole lot of explosive power knocking you out of your boots.” Josh sucked in his breath at Ethan’s words. “It’s unfortunate, really. Your training, your expertise, your instincts all tell you to be so fucking grateful when the fireworks turn out to be a whole bunch of…nothing.”

  Josh heaved himself off the floor and moved towards Ethan but Ethan waved him away. Josh stepped back. He could feel his own face contorting when he realised Ethan had refused to even touch him.

  “You conditioned yourself to settle for the anticlimax in your men just like in your work. No doubt, insisting on ‘playing it safe’ in your job kept you and your team alive, Josh.” Ethan paused.

  Josh watched Ethan’s one hand shake on the doorknob while he clenched the other into a fist. He reached out again but Ethan shook him off.

  “But insisting on ‘safe’ with your heart leaves you—and the man who wants all the pieces of it—dead inside.”

  “What the fuck!” Backing away from Ethan’s harsh words, Josh stumbled against one of Ethan’s packed bags.

  A red light glowed on the land phone. Ethan stood, eyes downcast, while Josh lifted the receiver and put the call on speaker.

  “Mr Gray, your rental car is available. Please pick up your keys at the front desk.”

  Josh slammed the phone back into its cradle.

  “Ethan…” Josh’s voice, that low moan, trailed off.

  Ethan reached down to collect his luggage, pausing…

  “You don’t just carry too much baggage, Josh. You fucking wear it.” He reached out to touch Josh’s nose. “You’re still wearing full-on body armour, mate.”

  * * * *

  Ethan slid into the driver’s seat of his rental car, his hands trembling. He glanced down at his phone and hesitated. Then, with one scroll through the frantic messages from Lana, from Em, from Blake—from Josh—he deleted them all. He sent one text to an Oregon area code.

  Then Ethan shut his phone off.

  * * * *

  Josh hesitated, wondering if his key would still unlock the back door of the house he’d occupied for most of his adult life. He deserved to be locked out as surely as he’d locked these people out of his life this past year…

  He let out his breath when he heard the bolt give way.

  He looked around the dining room table, letting the full weight of the pain he’d caused settle around him. Em poured Josh a cup of coffee and warmed up Lana’s and Blake’s mugs, then took his seat again, silent.

  Josh gripped the old chipped mug, absorbing its familiar warmth. “I fucked up.” He ran one hand through his hair. “Ethan left. I need your help.” Josh sat down in the same chair he’d occupied for the past sixteen years in Emerson and Blake’s home. Lana’s home. His home.

  “About fucking time,” Emerson growled, breaking the silence, reaching out to tousle Josh’s short curls.

  “I’m so sorry—” Josh began, but Blake cut him off.

  “Just say it again,” Blake demanded, winking. “Not the ‘sorry’ part, either.”

  “I need your help.” Josh’s grin widened.

  * * * *

  Emerson returned from the phone call he’d made. “All set. Nothing to eat after midnight.”

  Chapter Six

  Lana watched Josh roll out of bed. His dull eyes told her he was still groggy and hurting, but he ignored the painkillers she pointed to on his nightstand.

  “Let me help you, you dumbass.” Lana stretched her cramped muscles and rose from the chair in one corner of Josh’s room.

  “Did you sleep there all night again?” Josh shook his head. “Ahh, fuck me!” He winced.

  Lana held out a hand to steady her brother, the effort of standing clearly not agreeing with him. “Couldn’t have you running into any walls the past couple of nights, now, could we?”

  “You’re missing the rest of the party.” Josh’s voice was raspy, his tone full of regret—but Lana knew he was happy to have her help. “I’m a selfish prick.”

  “The party’s done just fine with one less fag hag cluttering up the dance floor. And yes, sometimes you are.” Her tone softened. “And sometimes that’s okay, you know.”

  Lana helped him pack a bag and followed him down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. She made some toast, insisting that Josh eat a couple of slices to combat the lingering nausea that turned his fair skin whiter still.

  Josh typed a message to Ethan, his dejected look telling Lana that her brother had just received another ‘Message failed’ notice.

  “I need your help.”

  Lana smiled, fi
ghting back her tears, hearing Josh trying out those four words for the third time in as many days.

  Practicing…

  Fuck it, she decided, letting her tears flow. Happy tears.

  Josh gave her a hug, his embrace crushing. “I love you, you interfering twat.” He wiped her face, his eyes even more brilliant than usual with his own welling.

  “Like you know anything about twats,” she muttered, pulling herself together.

  Josh tossed Lana the keys to his bike, and reached down to scoop up her key ring from the kitchen table.

  “Motherfucker! So when I need to drop the kids at school, I guess I can pull them in Tommy’s little red wagon hitched to the back of your bike?”

  Josh smiled as Lana dried her tears, returning to form. He handed her his credit card. “Rent a bus if you want.” He glanced down at his watch. Lana knew what he was thinking—no business would open for at least two or three more hours. “I can’t wait, and a helmet is out of the question.”

  Even as Lana shooed him out the door, Josh hesitated. “Ethan turned his phone off. And I think he’s somewhere with no reception anyway.” He ran his fingers through his curls.

  Lana frowned. “Hit the road,” she ordered, watching Josh’s resolve waver. No fucking way… Not on my watch.

  She pushed him out the door. “Just leave yours on.”

  * * * *

  Lana scanned the list of fly-fishing outfitters listed in the general area Ethan had mentioned. Eleven numbers appeared on her computer screen. Lana sighed, frustrated at reaching nothing but answering machines and ‘Out of office’ messages. Of course these people fished at these ungodly hours.

  She started dialling again. And again.

  * * * *

  “Ethan! Wake up! Some obnoxious bitch insists on holding for you. She refuses to leave a message.” Sylvie let the screen door bang shut behind her in case Ethan had missed the displeasure in her tone.

  Takes one to know one, he thought as he grinned to himself. He considered Sylvie and Lana together in the same room. Sweet Jesus… He grinned again.

  Ethan unfolded his length from between his layers of sleeping bags, reluctant to vacate the warm cocoon he’d created on the stretch of rocky turf by the stream—even more reluctant to hear the voice he knew waited, impatient, on the other end of the phone. Even so… His heart pounding, Ethan envisioned Josh’s face while he came, his ready response to Ethan’s touch, feeling Josh’s tentative caresses, his desire, his love pounding on that iron veil Josh kept wrapped around his heart, wanting out.

  Ethan smiled at Sylvie and retrieved the call, intent on listening to Lana launch into a breathless soliloquy as soon as she heard Ethan’s voice.

  Sylvie arched one eyebrow, Lana’s own tone carrying loud and clear. “Your sailor’s twin, I gather.”

  Ethan reached over to put the land phone back in its receiver. “Sylvie, give me a lift to Archie’s.” This tiny local restaurant featured fresh catch and local produce. Its location just off the highway created a popular stop, its excellent food—and reliable cell phone reception—enticing travellers meandering through the remote fishing locations dotting the area.

  Sylvie gave Ethan a hug and dropped him off. Ethan avoided looking his friend in the eyes. He knew her sceptical, protective side ached at the sight of the excitement and light she saw in his eyes for the first time since he’d arrived back in Oregon early.

  Sylvie sighed. “What time should I drop back by? That’s a long walk home.”

  “No need. I’ll be getting a ride.” Ethan turned his cell on, hesitating a moment while he fiddled with a couple of apps. He sat down in one of the old chairs situated outside the restaurant’s front door before he jumped up again to pace.

  * * * *

  Driving away, Sylvie looked in her rear-view mirror to watch Ethan pacing in the parking lot. She shook her head, praying that this sailor who’d captured her friend’s fancy navigated true—or Ethan’s walk home with his broken heart would be long and painful.

  * * * *

  Josh glanced at his phone, his stomach tight. A blip appeared as if out of nowhere, about a mile back. He turned the car around and pulled into the parking lot of some hole-in-the-wall restaurant he’d passed ten minutes earlier without a second glance—and caught his breath. Ethan sat in a chair right outside the entrance, looking up as Josh slid out of his sister’s van.

  * * * *

  “I expected the hog,” Ethan murmured. He reached out to touch Josh’s face.

  Josh flinched and ran his fingers through his short curls.

  Ethan watched the nervous gesture. His heart sank, this encounter, the tension between them, not as he’d envisioned this reunion.

  “You look done in, man.” Ethan held out his hands for the keys.

  Josh hesitated but handed them over

  They rode in silence back to Ethan’s outfitter’s shop.

  Ethan tossed Josh’s bag into the suite of rooms off to one side of the building. At Josh’s inquiring look, he explained, “Sylvie rented a flat a few miles up the road in town. I live here.”

  Ethan stepped out the back door leading down a bed of rocks to the swift-running stream, the sultry red, purple, and orange hues of the setting sun fast disappearing behind the hills rolling across the tranquil setting. A place of beauty. Of peace.

  “All this wide-open space. Funny area for a dude who’s comfortable living underwater in a dick-shaped nuclear reactor to wind up.”

  Ethan smiled. “That was then. This is now. And I’m a wee bit partial to that shape.”

  Josh ran his fingers through his hair again.

  Ethan sighed as he watched him, that coiled tension wound so tight, ever present in him and out of place in this calm refuge.

  “This… Maybe this is…a mistake… Aw, fuck, I should just leave now.” Josh frowned.

  Ethan reached over to cradle Josh’s face in his wide palms, ignoring the trepidation shadowing Josh’s eyes. Their brilliant green turned almost black as his pupils dilated, panic and longing skirmishing for control.

  “No,” Ethan murmured, “I should suck your cock now.”

  Josh dropped to his knees too. “No,” he whispered, stretching out on the nest of sleeping bags and blankets.

  Ethan watched Josh breathe in that spicy scent of Ethan’s cologne enveloping him. Ethan held his own breath and prayed that the fragrance would make this foreign turf, this exposed space, somehow comforting, familiar—exhilarating—to Josh…

  Josh reached out to unzip Ethan’s jeans, both men’s hands stripping away the layers separating them, Ethan’s mouth finding Josh’s lips.

  Ethan smiled when Josh reached back and rummaged in his jeans pocket to pull out a travel-sized tube of lube and a couple of condoms. Ethan caught his breath as Josh rolled the condom over his erect cock, his touch making Ethan’s member harder still. As he lifted Josh’s legs over his shoulders, Ethan looked into his eyes, watching his face while he slid the tip of his cock into Josh’s ass, his motions gentle and slow.

  Josh inhaled and Ethan noted every expression that moved across Josh’s face as he struggled to relinquish control to his lover, both of them aware that Josh was surrendering virgin territory of a sort here.

  Ethan kept his thrusts slow. He felt the length of Josh’s cock as it rose against his belly. Ethan closed his eyes, lost in the pleasure Josh offered up to him, opening them again to see Josh’s eyes widen, his cock getting harder with each languid motion of Ethan’s hips.

  Josh bent his knees further, opening wider still for Ethan. Ethan felt him grab the tight muscles of his ass, and Ethan needed no further urging to drive harder now, He groaned, the tight mat of dark curls winding across his chest and down his groin, rubbing against Josh’s nipples and cock, the friction from the other man’s smooth skin an exquisite tease.

  Feeling Josh slip one finger into his own tight hole, Ethan groaned. “You’re making me come, Josh,” Ethan gasped. “Jesus, you feel so fucking good.”


  Ethan felt Josh’s cum shoot across his torso as his load filled Josh with an explosion of heat. The intense rush left him lightheaded.

  Ethan lifted himself up on one elbow, running his free hand up the length of Josh’s muscled legs as he straightened his knees, both of them quiet in the aftermath of the passion between them.

  Josh pulled Ethan down again. “Dude, you’re giving me a permanent hard-on,” Josh complained, his tone light.

  Ethan smiled. “I love you too, Josh.”

  Josh tensed. Ethan lay still and moved his fingers slowly, a caress against Josh’s smooth fair skin, until he felt Josh relax again.

  Neither of them broke the silence as they drifted into a light slumber under the stars and moon appearing overhead, Ethan holding Josh safe in his embrace.

  * * * *

  Ethan woke to the cool night air that washed over his skin. He lifted his head from Josh’s chest, feeling his breathing grow erratic. Ethan watched the tears that slipped from the corners of Josh’s emerald-coloured eyes. He could hear Lana’s voice in his head—‘Josh never cried after Ben died. Not in front of us, anyway’.

  Ethan remained silent and held Josh close, reaching out one gentle finger to wipe the moisture away.

  Josh winced at Ethan’s touch. Not from embarrassment, Ethan realised, but from the real pain his tears caused.

  Josh tried to smile.

  “Did you bring something to help with that?” Ethan gestured towards Josh’s face.

  “Yeah, in my bag.”

  Ethan extricated himself from Josh’s tight hold, smiling as Josh, reluctant, loosened his grip.

  Ethan walked back to his rooms and sifted through the few items in Josh’s bag. He returned with two pills and a bottle of water.

  “Hurts like a motherfucker right now,” Josh acknowledged, “but I needed to leave at least some of the baggage behind when I decided to come, right?” He closed his eyes while Ethan ran his fingers along the multi-hued, faint bruises that created a black and blue mask across Josh’s flawless skin.