"What a great idea.” Brendan laughed. “Who could pass up such gourmet fare?"
Nothing, Jamie realized, was going to be said. Nothing was going to be admitted. Whatever had happened between Tuck and him, between Tuck and Brendan, all of it would be swept back under the rug. The storm's end meant an end to whatever sexual exploration might have taken place between them.
Though he knew he should be elated that soon they would be going home, he felt oddly bereft, aware he had lost something just beyond his grasp, something that had never really been his.
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Chapter Six
"I still think we should try to get out there and see about the dish.” Brendan took a sip of the strong coffee Jamie had brewed, which he'd tried to make palatable with powdered creamer. It was hugely disappointing to realize the wind had picked up again. He quietly doubted the blizzard was over, but at least they would be able to check the satellite connection.
He glanced at Tuck and was disconcerted to discover Tuck was watching him with a small, enigmatic smile. Looking quickly away, Brendan felt his face heat. He was thirty-four years old, for crying out loud, and didn't know how to act. Tuck, so handsome with those dark, brooding eyes and large, strong hands. Tuck, who had driven him nearly insane with pleasure. Tuck, whose own cock had been like granite beneath Brendan's trembling touch.
What the hell had happened last night? Was it only a physical release, the kind of thing that happened in the trenches during war or between prisoners on death row? Was he just so lonely, horny and drunk that even another guy had seemed better than nothing?
He was skirting the real questions, and he knew it. Tuck was not just another guy. He was the one person who had somehow penetrated Brendan's reserve, slipping past the carefully constructed walls that kept the world at a proper distance.
Did one encounter with a guy make a person gay? Was he ruined now for women? Did he care? Brendan was a scientist. He liked things neatly defined and properly ordered. He derived deep satisfaction from taking the chaos in the world around him and breaking its codes, plundering its secrets, rendering it tame. How in the hell was he supposed to figure this one out? What hypotheses should he pose, what experiments should he conduct?
And what of Jamie? How much had he overheard when he was supposedly sleeping off his vodka binge? Had Jamie witnessed their teenaged fumbling beneath the covers? He'd certainly been awake enough in the moments after Tuck went into the shower.
Brendan had heard Jamie's sudden, labored breathing and had thought at first he was in the throes of a bad dream. When the breathing became a pant, followed by the telltale gasp of a climax, Brendan had been both put off and aroused as it dawned on him what he was hearing.
Based on Jamie's startled reaction, and his lie that he'd just woken, Brendan was pretty sure Jamie hadn't realized he was in the room. Which must mean he had believed Brendan and Tuck were together in the bathroom. There were two separate shower stalls, so Jamie wouldn't have necessarily assumed they were showering together. So what if he did? He was openly gay—how could he object?
Jamie finished his oatmeal, drank some coffee and looked expectantly at Brendan. For one horrible second, Brendan thought he was going to say something about last night. He nearly sagged with relief when Jamie stood, his tone all business. “Let's do this thing."
They had decided not to try opening the windows in the sleeping quarters, so as not to lose the heat there. Because of the wind patterns, while huge piles of snow had drifted along parts of the building, there were spots swept clear.
They pulled on their boots and parkas and left the warmth of the kitchen to see what door or window might be most accessible. Each of the three labs had several windows along the outer walls to take advantage of the warming greenhouse effect of the sunlight, and there were exit doors at both ends of the hallway, as well as one that opened onto the shed in which the diesel generators were kept.
Carrying flashlights, they made their way down the frigidly cold hallway to the generator shed to turn on the second generator that powered the lab area. Tuck advanced into the room and moved toward the diesel engines. He flicked the switch. Brendan expected to hear the dull roar of the engine coming to life, but nothing happened.
Tuck knelt in front of the machine, shining his flashlight over the control panel. “Huh. That's strange. It's completely dead. No power.” He turned back to Brendan and Jamie. “While I'm figuring out what's wrong, we could divert power from the other generator to the labs so you can see your way out."
Brendan nodded his approval. Tuck moved to the second generator and opened the control panel. Consulting a small manual that sat atop the generator, he punched in a series of codes. All at once the hallway outside the door was lit by electric light. Tuck turned back with a triumphant smile.
"Now you can see what you're doing. Meanwhile I'll see if I can't figure out what's wrong with this one."
"Sounds like a plan.” Brendan patted the walkie-talkie strapped to his belt, the twin of which was on Tuck's belt. “We'll head down to the wet lab. I think that's our best shot for finding an accessible window. If we get the window cleared, we'll just head outside and check conditions. Signal if you need anything."
Tuck nodded. “You do the same."
Brendan and Jamie made their way to the wet lab. They had agreed in advance Tuck would remain inside, walkie-talkie at the ready in case they encountered obstacles or needed his assistance. Brendan carried a shovel and additional outer gear. Jamie had a small, portable snow blower slung over one shoulder.
Two of the thick thermal panes of glass were completely blocked by snow, but the third one was mostly clear. The dawn cast a pearly gray light over the snow-covered surface that stretched as far as the eye could see. Though the gale force winds had abated, snow continued to whirl and eddy in a frenzied dance.
They pulled on their gear. Brendan unlocked the window and pushed the panel outward. A fierce gust of icy wind hurled snow into the room. Each man pulled his scarf up over his nose and mouth. Jamie leaned out the window and turned on the snow blower, clearing away the top few feet of snow before jumping down.
Brendan followed, sinking up to his thighs in the deep snow. Though the sun was obscured by the cloud cover, the glare was still blinding against the whitewash of snow and ice. After pushing the window closed as best he could, he lowered his goggles and began to shovel behind Jamie.
Even dressed as he was, in long johns, a thermal long-sleeved vest, two pairs of thick socks, moleskin pants, a fleece jacket, an insulated headband, a neck scarf, a pair of gloves covered by a pair of insulated mittens, and double-boots with a thick, insulated sole and his hooded parka, he could feel the cold.
It was hard to believe only the week before they'd been playing football, comfortable in only a few layers of clothing. Then the weather had been calm and sunny. Now the icy wind blew needles of freezing snow in their faces.
Making slow progress, they eventually found their way to the side of the building where the satellite dish was housed. It was set up on a communication tower, most of which was covered in a snowdrift. Even from where they stood, Brendan could see the dish was bent at an odd angle, no longer lined up properly to receive satellite transmissions.
Being smaller and lighter, he climbed the ladder on the tower, with Jamie remaining below to spot him. The physical energy expended to move through and clear the snow had Brendan's heart pounding, and though his clothing was designed to whisk perspiration from his skin, sweat trickled down his sides.
He reached the top of the tower and, leaning against it, pulled off his mittens and stuffed them in his pockets. He worked quickly, aware of the danger of frostbite, despite the lined leather gloves. He repositioned the satellite to its designated coordinates as best he could. The dish itself didn't look damaged, as far as he could tell. He was eager to get back to the shelter to see if they were back online.
The wind was picking up, and conversation was
nearly impossible. He had to yell to make himself heard. “I repositioned the dish. Let's hope that does it."
Jamie nodded, watching as Brendan put on his mittens. The wind was blowing so hard now they were pushed partially sidewise as they trudged and shoveled their way through the piled snow. Jamie again led the way, the small snow blower chugging furiously, spewing a thick stream of snow as they went.
* * * *
Tuck tinkered with the broken generator in an effort to determine the cause. He had opened the door of the control panel and was going through several of the trouble-shooting diagnostics, so far to no avail.
His head had begun to hurt and he was feeling sick to his stomach. Probably a hangover. We drank like fish last night. Promising himself some aspirin and a large glass of water once he got the generator going, Tuck tried to focus on his work.
Even while concentrating on his task, a constant play of memories scrolled through his head—the look of fire in Brendan's eyes when he'd said Tuck's name with such raw emotion, Jamie's embarrassed expression when he realized he'd come in his jeans, the taste of Brendan's cock, the scent of Jamie's desire.
None of them had said a word this morning, himself included. There had been many furtive glances and rapid looking away. It would have been almost funny if it hadn't mattered so much. He could hardly bear the thought of leaving Brendan now, of them each returning to their lives, separated by distance and by their inability or unwillingness to explore their feelings.
As crazy as it was, a part of him regretted that the blizzard had died down and they would soon be rescued. What an ideal opportunity for the three of them to explore whatever was happening between them.
Wait a minute—the three of them? Take Brendan and himself first. Though he knew one twenty-minute groping session didn't mean they were in love, there was definitely something going on, and it went beyond mere lust.
With Jamie the picture was less sure, but the attraction was definitely there as well. As spontaneous as it had been, the heat between them was real. Tuck's cock rose at the memory of their kiss. Jamie, at least, didn't have the hang-ups and hetero angst Brendan was dealing with. He'd made his desire for Tuck very clear.
What would Jamie think of a three-way? Brendan, after all, was very easy on the eyes. What hot-blooded young gay guy could resist?
Tuck shook his head. He felt dizzy and his thoughts were becoming fuzzy. He tried to focus on the manual and the control panel, punching the sequence indicated to check the ventilation system. The word, “Danger—High Levels of Carbon Monoxide Detected” flashed across the screen.
That would explain his sudden distinctly unpleasant symptoms. Tuck stood on unsteady legs, thinking to check the ventilation ducts. All at once his knees buckled and the bright blue-painted metal of the generator rose at an alarming speed to meet his face.
* * * *
Brendan pushed the button on his walkie-talkie—two short and one long beep to indicate they were heading back. Holding the walkie-talkie to his ear, he waited for the answering confirmation beeps, but heard nothing. A faint sense of unease passed through him. Why wasn't Tuck responding?
Maybe he was so engrossed in repairing the generator he hadn't heard it, or maybe he hadn't heard the return signal over the noise of the generator engine. Well, they'd be back in soon enough and then they could check in. They'd already been outside for nearly half an hour. It took another fifteen to work their way back around the building to the unlocked window.
Jamie helped Brendan climb through first, making a stepping stool with his hands. Brendan then turned to take the blower and shovel Jamie handed through the window and reached out his hand to pull Jamie inside. Though both of them were at peak physical strength and used to the altitude and cold, they lay slumped on the floor for several minutes until their hearts slowed and their breathing steadied.
Jamie was the first to get up. He took off the ice-and-snow-encrusted parka and pulled off his boots. “Man, I don't like that wind. Was it my imagination or was it getting worse the longer we were out there?"
"I'm afraid it was. I don't think we're out of this thing yet. But at least there was enough of a lull to check the satellite. Hopefully now the communications network will be back online.” Brendan didn't add his fear that if the winds kept up, the dish would probably fail again. No point in jinxing things.
Jamie looked relieved. “Let's go see how Tuck's doing with that generator. Then I want some hot tea."
Brendan hoisted himself to his feet and pulled off his frozen outer gear. Together they made their way out of the lab and down the hall to find Tuck.
"Brendan! Hurry!” Jamie stood frozen just inside the door of the generator shed. Horror poured over him as he stared transfixed at the bloody scene before him.
Tuck was slumped on the ground beside the generator, his face resting in a pool of bright red blood.
"Oh, my God.” Brendan pushed past Jamie and knelt beside Tuck. Carefully he rolled him to his back. “It's his forehead. It looks like he hit his head somehow.” Brendan bent over him, his ear close to Tuck's mouth. He grabbed Tuck's wrist between two fingers and waited.
"He's breathing and his pulse is steady, thank God."
Jamie came to kneel beside Brendan. Pulling the scarf from around his neck, he wiped at the blood still trickling over Tuck's face.
"Go get the first-aid kit,” Brendan barked roughly. “Run."
Jamie ran across the hallway to the closest lab. There was a first-aid kit in every lab, as well as one in the living quarters. He could hear Brendan calling Tuck's name, shaking and trying to rouse him. In a moment Jamie returned, opening the white plastic container and removing antiseptic, gauze and bandages.
Tuck remained unconscious. Brendan and Jamie worked to staunch the blood flow, cleaning the wound and applying the bandages. “It's stuffy in here,” Brendan noted. “I'm feeling kind of dizzy myself."
"Yeah. And I'm getting a headache.” Their eyes met and understanding clicked in both of them at the same instant.
"Check the ventilation ducts.” Brendan jabbed a finger toward the ceiling. “And let's get him out of here."
Jamie, using a small stepladder, climbed up to the vent and found it was completely blocked by snow, which would explain the carbon monoxide buildup from the enclosed generators. Tuck must have fainted and hit his head on the engine on the way down.
"Give me something. That broom.” He pointed and Brendan obliged, handing it to him. Using the handle, Jamie pushed out as much snow as he could and climbed down. “The fans are working again. That should clear the air some."
Brendan tried once more to rouse Tuck, but he remained limp, his eyes closed. Brendan's lips were pressed into a hard, straight line, his brow furrowed. Jamie had the uncomfortable feeling he was trying not to cry. Not that he blamed him. He felt like crying himself at the thought of Tuck lying unconscious in a pool of blood while they sat resting in the lab before coming to find him.
Carefully they lifted him between them, Jamie carrying his body, Brendan his legs. As fast as they could, they took him down the hall and back into the warmth of the living quarters.
After passing through the kitchen, they settled him onto his cot. While Brendan removed Tuck's jacket and gloves, Jamie undid Tuck's boots and pulled them from his feet.
"Shit.” Jamie looked up at Brendan's epithet. “He's bleeding again."
Jamie knelt beside Brendan. A red circle of blood had seeped through the gauze and surgical tape covering the wound. Using two fingers, Jamie applied pressure to the wound, silently willing it to stop bleeding.
"Tuck.” Brendan shook his shoulder. “Wake up. Come on, man. Wake up."
To their relief, Tuck stirred and opened his eyes. His gaze was unfocused until it lighted on Brendan's face. “Brendan.” He smiled and Brendan returned the smile. Jamie flinched inwardly at the piercing barb of jealousy ripping through his guts. They only had eyes for each other. He didn't stand a chance.
He forced hi
s feelings aside. “How do you feel, Tuck? You took quite a fall. Can you remember what happened?"
Tuck turned his gaze from Brendan's face and looked at Jamie. He squinted, his expression confused.
"Do you know who I am, Tuck?"
"Sure. You're Jamie.” He bestowed a smile just as warm as the one he'd given Brendan, and despite his trepidation that Tuck had suffered a concussion, Jamie's heart softened with longing.
"We think you were poisoned by a CO buildup in the shed. The ventilation ducts were blocked."
"That's right.” Tuck tried to sit up. He sank back, the color draining from his face.
"Take it easy.” Brendan's voice was ripe with concern.
Tuck continued, “There was a high CO reading on the screen when I ran one of the diagnostics. I still didn't get the generator running though. I must have passed out.” He felt the gauze covering the still-bleeding wound.
"You took quite a fall, looks like, and must have hit your head on a sharp corner on the way down.” Brendan touched his shoulder. “We found you unconscious when we got back from the expedition."
"What happened out there? Was the dish intact?"
"It had been blown from its coordinate position. I set it in place, so we'll have to see. We haven't had a chance to check yet if we're back online."
"Man, I'm really sorry about this. I should have recognized the symptoms sooner. I thought I just had a hangover.” He grinned weakly. “Jesus,” he whispered, his skin pale and waxy. “I don't feel so good."
"I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner.” Brendan stroked Tuck's hair. “You need stitches to close that wound. I'm pretty handy with a needle. Let's get you sewn up and get that bleeding stopped once and for all."
Jamie stood and turned away, annoyed by the lovey-dovey tone of Brendan's voice. “We've got oxygen too, in the clean lab. It wouldn't hurt to get some pure oxygen into your bloodstream to counteract the carbon monoxide. That's what's making you feel like crap.” He left the room in search of the oxygen tank and facemask.
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