“I can’t.”
“What?”
“All those terrible things I said. I can’t see him.”
“You ain’ mean none of that stuff. He knew that.”
“Telling him to stay away from our mother was the last thing I said to him.”
“Don’t bea’cha self up. He knew you loved ’im.”
When we arrived to the coroner’s office, Scott froze at the door.
“You can do this, Scott. I’ll be right there wi’choo.”
“You’ve been so cool with me throughout all this,” he said.
“That’s what friends are for.”
We walked up to the administration desk where an older, well-dressed woman sat shuffling papers and folders.
“Excuse me. I’m here to speak with a Detective George Geletka.”
“Name?” she asked flippantly.
“Scott Whelks.”
“Is he expecting you?”
“He called me yesterday, yes.”
“Hold on. I’ll page him.”
“Thank you.”
Scott and I waited in the lobby studying those in white lab coats, others with guns and badges hanging from their waists. A middle-aged man with dark hair, who resembled Edward James Olmos, made his way toward us. His badge hung from a chain that dangled around his neck. I knew it had to be him, the bearer of bad news.
“Mr. Whelks? Hi, I’m Detective Geletka. I believe we spoke on the phone.”
“Hi,” said Scott.
“I’m sorry that we have to meet under these circumstances. We found your brother after we raided a crack house in Dix McBride Apartments. Because he had priors, we were able to identify him as Joseph Whelks. He had you down as next of kin.”
“Can I see him?” Scott asked.
“Sure, but I’m afraid that only family is allowed in.”
“He’s a friend of mine.”
“Well, all right. I guess it’ll be fine,” said the detective.
I wanted to hold Scott’s hand to show him just how supportive I was, but it didn’t seem appropriate.
“I must warn you that the…smell can get pretty bad.”
He wasn’t lying. The stench of death was almost immediate. We noticed one of the examiners hovering over a pale, cold corpse. I had never seen a dead body before. Plenty of dead coons, squirrels and ’possums that had fallen victim to Mack trucks, but nothing that real, that close up and personal.
“This is Doctor Turner, our medical examiner.”
“Hi,” said Scott.
“He’s here to identify his brother. Whelks, Joseph C.,” the detective told Dr. Turner.
“Right this way.”
Scott looked as if he was together. Dr. Turner peeled the white shroud slowly from the body that lay beneath it. I looked to Scott to catch his reaction as we stared upon the corpse of Scott’s kin.
“Is this your brother?” asked the detective.
“That’s him. That’s Joe.”
“I’m terribly sorry,” said Dr. Turner. I consoled Scott as he started to weep.
“Thanks, Doc,” the detective said.
The three of us stood in the corridor outside the coroner’s office. I held Scott in my arms as he sobbed uncontrollably.
“Are you his only relative?”
“Our mother. But she’s ill,” said Scott.
“There’s some paperwork we’re going to need you to fill out in order to release the body.”
Scott’s face was flushed red with tears.
“Detective, can he come back tomorrow for all of that?”
“Whenever’s good for him,” he said. He looked at us as if he thought we were partners. “Here’s my card. If he has any questions, please have him give me call, and again, I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
We got back to the apartment, where I fixed Scott a cup of coffee.
“You want me t’ call ya mom?” I asked.
“That’s okay. I’ll go out there later and tell her. I just can’t right now.”
“I can go wi’choo.”
“She doesn’t really take too well to strangers. Are you gonna go to class tonight?”
“I thought I would stay here wi’choo tonight an’…”
“No, you should go. I’ll be fine.”
“But I wanna stay.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“Well…’mkay.”
“Thanks for going with me. It meant a lot.”
I was quiet in class, doodling in the margins of my notebook, thinking of Scott. My friend Matt asked if I wanted to go for drinks, but I took a rain check. I wanted to get back home in case Scott was there, which he wasn’t. He left a note on my desk: Gone to Mom’s. Will call you later, Scott.
I decided to take a stroll on the Seaport. I took my cell in case he phoned. It wasn’t until I was about to hop in the shower that my cell toned.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Scott replied.
“How’s your mom?” I asked.
“She took it really hard. I finally got her down to sleep.”
“How you holdin’ up?”
“About as well as can be expected. I’m going to stay with her for a couple of days. Just to keep an eye on her, make sure she’s okay.”
“You want me t’ talk t’ ya professors?”
“No need. They know about Joe and I told them that I needed some time.”
“’Mkay, well, if you need anything, jus’ gimme a call.”
“I will.”
I spent the next few days busying myself with writing. The money from Ma as well as the work/study check had finally arrived. I spent some on groceries, more on those books that I wanted but didn’t have the dough to buy, and banked the rest. I put the forty dollars I owed Scott in an envelope and placed it on his desk. I didn’t go to the sex clubs that night. I wasn’t interested in toying with the boys in the basement of the Unicorn. I wanted to be with Scott. I locked myself in for the night. I killed the lights ’cept for the one that glowed brightest next to my bed. I watched the people below until I faded off to sleep. Those few days flew by. Scott returned from Rockaway.
He wasn’t the same, but quiet, like he used to be during those early days when he moved into the dorm. He was distant with me, sometimes cold. I could tell he was still carrying around the guilt of his brother’s death. When he told me that he was moving back home to take care of his mom, I understood.
“It ain’t ya fault ya know.”
“What isn’t?”
“Your brotha’s death. You didn’t kill ’im.”
“I abandoned him. I turned my back on him when he needed me. I might as well had have put the needle in his arm myself.”
“You need t’ face th’ fact that ya brotha made th’ decision t’ do drugs.”
“What?” He stopped what he was doing and looked at me with red in his eyes.
“Shut up.”
“There was nothin’ you could’ve done.”
“Shut your fucking mouth.”
Scott grabbed me by the collar and shoved me hard against the closet. Its doors snapped under my weight. All the anger and guilt Scott had bottled up boiled over.
“If only I had stayed.”
“And what? Watch ’is every move, be ’is bodyguard? He chose his path.” I wanted to drink up his pain, eat his sorrow. “It ain’t your fault.”
We stood in our dorm, as close as lovers. Scott’s lips touched mine. Our kisses were not sloppy or pornographic, but like a soap opera, a movie where the guy gets the girl in the end. We stumbled on my bed, our hands beneath shirts, fingers undoing buttons and clasps, dicks in mouths and assholes until we were both sticky with each other. I wish I could say we lay there like two cuddle sluts under the covers, but by morning, Scott was gone.
I spotted him two weeks later at the Sixty-first Street Cafeteria at the buffet. He looked surprised to see me. We caught up over fried calamari and romaine salad. We were both happy that the semester was fin
ally winding down.
“How’s your mom doin’?”
“She’s in good spirits, healthy. Saturday was Joe’s birthday. We went out and put flowers on his grave.”
Our conversation felt awkward at first, like we were on some blind date.
“Are you going home for Christmas?”
“I talked t’ my mama las’ night an’ tol’ ’er I was comin’ home. She sounded excited. I got mosta my stuff packed.”
“Are you gonna stay another semester at William Street?”
“I applied t’ move in th’ Grove Street apartments. It ain’t as nice as William Street, but i’s closer to campus.”
“Well, in case I don’t see you before you leave, here’s my new number,” he said.
As he scribbled it on a napkin, I wanted to touch that hand. I wanted to reach over our table and give him a kiss to prove that he was missed. We cut our time together short due to hectic schedules. We never spoke of that night.
Scott was reluctant to hug me in public. He smelled sweetly of aftershave. We knew it would be the last we would see of each other. We veered off into opposite directions of the Lower Westside. I cried quietly walking along those dirty streets. New Yorkers looked at me wondering what was the matter. I left a piece of my heart on every block, knowing I would never get over Scott.
FLYBOY
Michael Bracken
Ever since I was old enough to comprehend birds I wanted to join them. By the time I was old enough to enlist in the Air Force ROTC, I had a secret I was under no obligation to share and about which the recruiters couldn’t ask, a secret that—until recently—could have grounded my military career faster than broken wings grounded the birds I envied.
Throughout college and on through a year of flight school and six months qualifying in my plane, I was able to keep my secret from my fellow airmen by holding my assignations well away from campus and from the base where I was subsequently stationed. That worked until I met Terry.
A tastefully dressed, slim blond, he worked for a property management company that rented houses to airmen who wanted to live off base. When we met in his office, he tried to steer me into an expensive home in an exclusive neighborhood befitting my rank, and it took some effort to convince him that I wanted a home well away from town, surrounded by plenty of undeveloped land, where my private life wouldn’t be subjected to prying eyes.
“Why would a handsome captain like you want to live so far from the action?” he asked as he examined me across the top of his desk, taking in my close-cropped hair, broad shoulders and smartly tailored uniform. I kept my gaze steady, staring directly into Terry’s pale-blue eyes until a sly smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Then he said, “I think I know just the place.”
Terry stood and I followed him outside to his SUV, admiring the way his cute ass filled out his slacks. Thirty minutes later he led me through a fully furnished split-level well outside of town, with nary a neighboring house within sight in any direction. The decorations were sparse but tasteful, and it wasn’t until we stood in the master bedroom and I saw a trio of framed photographs lining the dresser—all of Terry—that I realized we were in his home.
“Are you planning to move?” I asked. By then we had stepped onto the balcony outside the bedroom and were looking across acres of undeveloped grassland. “Is that why we’re here?”
“No,” the rental agent said as he put one hand on my arm. “It’s because I’ve been turned on ever since you stepped into my office this morning.”
As Terry turned to face me, I was certain we were flying in the same formation. I knew better than to play in the same town where I was stationed, but months had passed since I had been with another man and I’d been flying solo far too long. So I didn’t stop Terry when he unbuttoned my jacket, pushed it open and placed his hand on my crotch.
Inside my uniform trousers my cock began to inflate, quickly rising to attention. As he dropped to his knees in front of me, Terry drew down the zipper and threaded my erection out through the fly front of my boxers and uniform trousers. He pushed back the foreskin to reveal the swollen purple head of my cock, and then he wrapped his lips around it.
As he hooked his teeth behind the glans, he wrapped one fist around my cock shaft and pistoned it up and down the entire length. After several strokes I pushed his hand away, wrapped my fingers in Terry’s hair and held the back of his head as I pushed my cock halfway into his mouth. I drew back and then pushed forward again and again, pushing a little deeper each time until I knew he could handle the entire length.
I hadn’t left base that morning anticipating a hookup and would never have intentionally sought one out so close to where I was stationed, yet I found myself with my cock in Terry’s mouth, enjoying the feel of his tongue and his teeth on my tumescent member. And I never would have thought myself capable of having an encounter in so public a place as the balcony of someone’s home, yet I hadn’t stopped Terry when he’d dropped to his knees before me and I certainly had no intention of stopping him after he’d taken me into his mouth.
I drew back and pushed forward, my pace quickening as orgasm drew near. Before I could stop myself, my sac tightened and I came, firing thick wads of hot spunk against the back of Terry’s throat. He swallowed as fast as he could, but not fast enough, and some of my cum dripped down his chin. After my cock ceased spasming, I stepped back, pulled it from his mouth and tucked it away.
Terry wiped his chin with the back of his hand and looked up at me. The metal teeth of my zipper had scratched his nose but he didn’t seem to notice. I grabbed his hand, pulled him to his feet and together we stepped inside.
“You do this for all your clients?”
“Only special clients,” he said with a smile.
We returned to his office and from there, after assurances that Terry would continue looking for an appropriate rental home, I returned to my quarters on the base. I wasn’t sure how I felt about what had happened at Terry’s house but I was kept busy the next few days and I didn’t have time to give it much thought.
Later that week Terry found a rental house for me a few miles farther down the road, one with a driveway that looped around the house to the garage in back. For the next few years we kept our developing relationship as much a secret as possible, spending all our time at his home or mine and never being seen together in public unless we were far from the base.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011, changed our relationship forever with the repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. I’d not seen the news that day, so I was surprised when I returned home from the base that evening to find Terry waiting in my living room, wearing his best suit.
“Change clothes,” he said. “We have dinner reservations.”
After Terry told me what we were celebrating, I changed from fatigues into my dress blues and we drove downtown to an Italian restaurant with valet parking, inflated prices and an impressive wine selection.
We started with wine, toasting our good fortune and the good fortune of so many of my brothers and sisters silently serving in the armed forces.
While waiting for our appetizers to arrive, Terry reached across the table and took my hand. After years of hiding our relationship, my instinct was to pull away, but Terry wouldn’t let me. He held on fast.
“We don’t have to hide anymore.”
I glanced around the restaurant, expecting to be the center of attention, but no one was paying any attention to us. I relaxed, took another sip of wine and stared into Terry’s pale-blue eyes much as I had the first time we’d met. I knew exactly what he saw when he looked at me, because I saw the same thing when I looked at him.
Our appetizers came, followed by dinner, a dessert we shared and more than one glass of wine. Perhaps we shouldn’t have driven home under the influence of all that wine, but we made it without incident.
As soon as we stepped through the back door, we were all over each other, kissing and groping and stripping off our clothes as we made our way to
my bedroom. A trail of abandoned clothing followed us, the last of it landing in a heap next to the bed.
I pulled Terry to me and kissed him hard, my tongue thrust deep into his mouth. When the kiss ended, I spun him around and bent him forward. He braced himself on the bed while I grabbed a half-used tube of lube from the nightstand.
After slathering lube over my tumescent cock, I squeezed a glob into my lover’s asscrack. I massaged it into the tight pucker of his asshole until I was able to ease my middle finger into him.
Then I pulled my finger away and pressed my fat cockhead against his sphincter. I grabbed his hips as he slowly opened to me but I was impatient and pushed hard, driving myself deep inside him.
Keeping a tight grip on his hips, I drew back and pressed forward, pumping hard and fast until I couldn’t restrain myself. I came, and came hard, driving into him one last time before firing a thick wad of hot spunk deep into Terry’s ass.
I held him until my cock finally stopped throbbing and I could pull myself free. Then we collapsed on the bed, and I held him in my arms.
“This is the day we’ve been waiting for,” Terry said.
I kissed him before he could say any more. He was right, but did I have the courage to follow through on my promise to marry him now that a public revelation of our relationship wouldn’t ground me? Terry had willingly played second fiddle to my career, but now he didn’t have to.
“Tomorrow,” I whispered. “Tomorrow we’ll tell everyone.”
The next day I spoke to some of my fellow pilots, letting wordof-mouth carry the news to everyone on base who mattered. Some of my fellow airmen claimed they’d known which way I flew but hadn’t said anything. Others appeared surprised by the news.
Over the next several weeks a handful of other officers and more than a dozen enlisted personnel also came out. None, however, came out by announcing their impending wedding as I had done.
We didn’t rush the wedding, but waited until the following January to tie the knot before our closest friends and family. Then we attended a reception at the Officer’s Club, thrown in our honor by like-minded airmen.
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