After they paid, left a generous tip, and walked out holding hands, two obviously intoxicated men, maybe in their thirties, intentionally bumped Marc and Adam.
Almost in unison the men heckled, “Faggot.”
Marc spun, and Adam put a hand on his shoulder.
“We’re having a good night. Don’t let them interfere,” Adam said.
Marc sighed, and they drove home.
The next day, Marc called his parents with Adam sitting next to him. His dad answered.
After the ritual of how everyone was, his dad said, “I’ll get your mother for you.”
“Dad, wait. I want to talk to you.” He took a deep breath, and Adam hugged him. “Dad, this will upset you, but I need to tell you that I’m gay. I live with my boyfriend, whom I love very much.”
The yelling and swearing erupted.
When his dad stopped talking for a second, Marc said, “It’s genetic, you know. There are others in the family, and I’ve done a lot of reading. It’s not a sin. God loves me, too.”
Marc’s mom came on the phone. “Damn it, did you have to upset him like that? When did you decide to be a queer?”
Marc smiled. He offered a few basic comments and let his parents off the hook with, “I’m comfortable in my skin, and I have a lover. I understand if you want nothing more to do with me.”
His mom’s voice weakened. “I’m not saying that. It’s just, damn it, Marc.”
“Think about it. I understand. I’ll call more often. I love you, Mom. We’ve all had rough times. Let me know if I can help in any way, and I forgive you and Dad for all the screwed-up Christmases and the crappy childhood.”
Marc ended the call and faced Adam. “Thanks for the support. I really am comfortable in my skin.” They kissed.
* * * *
As a way to refresh their friendship, the guys did things to remind them of their dating days. They took day trips in the car, played miniature golf, went to the naked gay beach, and rented motel rooms for love trysts. They went to movies and amusement parks several times. They crowed so much about it, Autumn invited herself and Jeannette to hitch a ride with them. It took two weeks for all of their schedules to match, but a great day was had. On the way to their car at the end of the day, Marc took Adam’s hand as they walked. Autumn and Jeannette did the same.
Coming toward them, a man with a smaller stature glared at them. Adam let Marc’s hand go, and Marc took it back.
“I don’t care what he thinks or approves of.”
It made Adam happy as he prepared for a confrontation. It happened.
About three feet apart, the guy said, “Fucking fruity faggots.”
Marc instantly threw a punch and stopped it half an inch from the guy’s face. “Yeah, we’re gay. So what?” Marc laughed. “If you say things like that, be prepared to defend yourself. You didn’t get any block up. I could have knocked you on your hateful ass.”
The guy, maybe in his mid-twenties, stood at least six inches shorter than Adam and Marc. His bravado kicked in. “I’ll kick all of your asses.”
Marc responded, “You weren’t born with that hate like we were born gay. You learned it. By your short hair and conservative, albeit casual clothes, I’d say your restrictive parents infected you.” Marc crossed his arms and held his chin with a hand like a professor studying an issue. “I’d say your father is the main culprit. The odds are you’re gay or at least questioning your sexuality, but they’re contrary to your teachings. So you attack others for what you are likely guilty of yourself.”
The man’s shoulders slumped. “How do you know about me?”
Marc winked. “I don’t. I’m just putting pieces of a puzzle together. Plus, calling us ‘fruity’ is a phrase from the prior generation.”
The man groaned. “I’m not gay.” His tone was empty.
Marc offered his hand. “It gets better. Don’t hate or hurt yourself. There are a lot of places to get help and counseling around San Diego. I suggest The Purple House.”
He repeated, “I’m not gay.”
“That’s okay. I denied it for years, too. We all seek our comfort levels in our own time, but please stop the hateful attacks.”
In a near whisper, the verbally emasculated bully said, “Thank you.”
Once in their nearby car, they laughed.
Autumn crowed, “Marc, you were fabulous. That guy didn’t know what hit him, or nearly hit him. That punch was so fast.”
Jeannette added, “Marc, you were awesome. How did you get that speech organized?”
Marc said, “I don’t know. It was like someone pushed a button, and I went off.” He sighed. “I guess I was talking about myself. When I was a teenager, I was suicidal. My English teacher noticed changes in me and talked to me until I admitted I was suicidal.” The occupants stayed silent as Adam drove. “I didn’t admit I was gay or partially gay or anything, but he guessed it. He got a school counselor to work with me. He saved my life. Mr. Ed White saved my life. He said suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.”
Jeannette leaned forward from the back and palmed Marc’s shoulder. “Did you tell him? My parents are teachers, and they love to hear from former students.”
Marc perked up. “I never thought of that. I thanked him at the time, but that was fifteen years ago. I remember one day in class he said he turned thirty-five. He could still be teaching.”
Adam added, “You can contact the school if it still exists.”
“Yeah!”
They decided to stop for dinner. The women had little to eat at the amusement park since they were both vegetarians. At the restaurant, in a booth in a corner, they ate and chatted.
Jeannette put her fork down. “Adam, Marc, I have a few questions to ask you.” The guys nodded. “I’m really happy dating Autumn. I really want her to move in with me, but I’m not sure how she’ll take it. What do you two think?”
Autumn coughed and stopped eating.
Adam was first to answer. “Jeannette, that’s awesome. Autumn is awesome. She’s a good friend. If you’re asking for my blessing, you have it.”
Marc added, “Me, too. Have you talked to her about it?”
Autumn stared with huge eyes.
Jeannette’s voice weakened. “No. I’ve hinted, but I think I was too vague, and I don’t think she got it.” She lowered her gaze. “I love her. It’s been long enough, I know it’s real love.” She shook her head, bouncing her ponytail around. “I know it’s not long-term love, but this is the beginning of it.”
Marc shot back, “Have you told her you love her? It would be a good idea.”
“Oh, yeah, we say it to each other. It’s easier for girls.”
Adam kicked Marc under the table and winked. “Jeannette, do you want to ask her to move in? Have you given it serious thought? Considered the pros and cons?”
Jeannette’s smile lit her face. “Yes. I have a spreadsheet on all that. The worst I see happening is it fails, and we hurt each other and write books about the lost loves of our lives. She spends a lot of time at my place.”
Autumn cut in. “I’m right here, you know. You’re talking about me.” She bit her lip and locked her gaze on Jeannette.
Jeannette held Autumn’s hands. “I love you. I want you to move in with me but was afraid to ask. I’m using the guys for moral support. They’re obviously very happy. I want that for us.” The girls kissed.
Autumn nodded, slow then fast. “Yes. Oh, yes! I love you so much.” They embraced and, as girls are wont to do, cried.
Adam and Marc hugged sideways and rotated to grasp each other despite the public arena. Adam tried to check his emotions. He did have a hang-up about guys crying in public. He entertained the thought that even though he loved and respected Autumn, he wasn’t comfortable parading around the apartment naked or nearly naked with a woman around.
Chapter 7
Two months later, Marc shook his head at a hard rap on the apartment door. He flipped off the vacuum cleaner
and paused the loud music. Adam stared at him from across the room. They both wore their birthday suits.
Marc said, “Someone’s at the door.”
“Ignore it.”
Another rap. Marc went to the door and opened it, hiding his body by it.
Jeannette smiled in her sexy, brown UPS uniform. “I usually don’t knock so often, but I heard the music and figured you guys were home, obviously not dressed.” She handed a package to Marc. “Autumn said you do housework naked. We do, too, now. You guys were a good model for her.” She blushed, and Marc’s face heated.
“Thanks, Jeannette. We all should get together. The world is going too fast. Take care of Autumn for us.”
“Oh, I will. I have a vested interest in doing that. I’m happy with her.”
Adam called out, “Hi, Jeannette.” He hid behind a recliner.
“Hi, Adam. I have to run. See you guys soon.”
Marc closed the door and inspected the box. “I don’t remember ordering anything.”
Adam sidled up to him. “I did. I hacked your computer, checked out the Internet history, and ordered undies that you viewed.”
Marc ran to the kitchen for a knife, opened the box, and fondled the half dozen colored panties. His dick hardened.
Adam came up from behind and ground his groin into Marc’s naked ass. “We can finish cleaning later. Take me to bed.”
“Don’t you want me to wear one of these now?”
Adam chose the bright red silk pair with lace outlines. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting interested in women’s panties?”
Marc put them on. “Vain masculinity, I guess. Afraid of what you’d think.”
They headed to bed.
“They turn me on. You turn me on.”
Marc demanded, “Just fucking take me. Bend me over, yank my panties down, and fuck me, pound my ass.”
“Oh, damn, yes.” Adam did as commanded. He swatted Marc’s ass a few times, bent him over, and pulled the panties down to Marc’s knees. Adam lubed them and drove his stiff cock into Marc’s ass. They moaned as though on cue.
Adam pounded away for ten minutes or so. He leaned forward, gripped Marc’s torso, and came in his lover’s ass. He felt wonderfully drained and rested on his back on the bed.
“Straddle me, give me a facial.”
Marc’s mouth opened as though he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He straddled Adam’s chest and fisted his cock while holding the panties in one hand against Adam’s face. Adam massaged Marc’s muscled ass. Their gazes locked, and Marc masturbated.
After several minutes, he crowed, “Coming.”
Adam closed his eyes, and Marc shot on Adam’s face. They smiled and kissed. “Shower.”
They washed, rinsed, and dried each other in silence. Kisses and loving looks spoke for them. After lunch, they finished cleaning the apartment. Marc wore his new panties.
* * * *
A week later, Marc got a call on his day off. “Hello.”
“Mark, this is Maria, the secretary for the emergency room.”
Marc’s heart jolted. Was something wrong with Adam or another friend? Maybe Autumn. He knew better than to jump to conclusions. “How can I help you?”
“Phil Robillard, one of the ER nurses, is going home sick. We’re really short, and he suggested I call you to finish his shift. You’re ER certified, right?”
He nodded. “Yes. I can do it. If traffic is good, I can be there in about twenty-seven minutes.”
“Twenty-seven?”
He smirked to himself. “That’s an estimate. It could be twenty-one point five minutes.” He loved being silly or offbeat sometimes.
Maria got it and laughed. “Thank you, Ensign. See you soon.”
Marc trotted in as two ambulances arrived. He and others got to work, including dealing with the four-car accident victims the ambulances delivered. It was a medium-level collision with four intoxicated sailors. Their car collided with an old oak tree. No one wore a seat belt.
Ah, young, stupid, and intoxicated.
Personally, Marc had no sympathy for them, but professionally, he cared for them to the best of his abilities. All needed X-rays, and two clearly had concussions. ER Doctor Falcone was a seasoned veteran and stayed calm, efficiently handling things one patient at a time.
Three hours later, the sailors from the car crash were treated. Two were admitted for overnight care, and two were discharged. Marc liked working the emergency room, but he adored working the in-patient floor, too. Hell, he loved his job. He wrote notes in the computerized records of the patients and chatted with Dr. Falcone about their careers. The shift was almost over when Admiral Shapiro, in casual clothes, entered via the hallway. A captain and lieutenant, both in uniform, flanked him. Dr. Falcone and Marc saluted.
The admiral gave a weak smile. “At ease. I’ve been meaning to come here for some time, and this was my first opportunity.” They shook hands. The admiral’s was warm, maybe hot. He said, “Captain Falcone, I’m glad you chose to stay in San Diego rather than hop around the world. I appreciate it. You’re a grand doctor.” The admiral faced Marc, who swallowed the lump in his throat. “Ensign Struthers, you look familiar. We must have run into each other somewhere on base, right?”
“Yes, Admiral, you have an excellent memory.” Damn nice of him to recognize Marc but not mention the reason why.
“So, how did the remodel go here in the emergency room?” He looked at Marc but blinked several times and licked his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. There was a loss of color in the admiral’s face, and he coughed many times.
Marc said, “I’m only filling in, Sir. I’m sure Captain Falcone can answer.”
Falcone did so, talking about new and better equipment, the more efficient setup, and modern appearance. The admiral seemed to only half listen. His escorting lieutenant and captain stayed silent and seemed bored. After about ten minutes, the admiral thanked Captain Falcone and shook his hand, and they saluted. He did the same to Marc, rendered his thanks for their service, and said good-bye.
Marc had a compulsion to speak. “Admiral, I’m sorry to ask this and intrude, but are you feeling well?”
“Oh, sure, just a little tired, maybe coming down with a cold.” He turned toward the door.
“Yes, Sir. Maybe it’s more than that. Your hand is warm, close to hot, your face is pale, and you’re licking your lips a lot and swallowing and coughing. Are you dehydrated?”
The captain with the admiral, Marc forgot his name, cut in. “Ensign, the Admiral said he’s fine.” The terse tone told Marc it was time to shut up.
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry to intrude, Admiral.”
The admiral gave a weak smile. His eyes had no luster. “You did it with concern for my health, and I appreciate it.” The trio headed out the way they came. The admiral coughed some more.
Marc noticed a waver in the admiral’s gait. Before Marc’s brain could stop him, he barked out, “Admiral.” Marc rushed forward with an electronic thermometer in hand that he grabbed from the counter. “You’re running a fever. I think your condition is more than a cold. May I check your temperature, Sir?”
Both the captain and lieutenant accompanying the admiral cramped their faces and snapped, “Ensign.”
Marc ventured forth. “Sir, let me check your temperature. It’ll take a few seconds, please, Sir.”
The admiral leaned against a wall and motioned his escorts away. He nodded and licked his lips again. His gaze fell to the floor. Marc scanned the admiral’s forehead. His temperature was 103 degrees.
“Sir, you have more than a cold. Do you have chest pain? Trouble breathing?”
He nodded and went into a coughing frenzy, holding his chest. His stance weakened. The others held him up by the arms. Marc raced for a wheelchair.
The admiral groaned. “What do I have? What can you do?”
Marc helped him into the wheelchair. “I don’t know, Admiral. I’m only a nurse. Dr. Falcone will
examine you.” He tried to inject humor. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it. We’ve never lost an admiral yet and don’t mean to now.” Marc rolled the medical center commander to the most private treatment room, got him undressed, and into a gown. He attached the admiral to monitoring equipment.
Dr. Falcone examined the admiral and ordered blood work, chest X-ray, and a thoracic CT scan. “Admiral, have you had any injuries to your chest or back lately?”
In between coughing fits, the admiral said, “About a week ago, my bicycle and I crashed into a tree off base. I was riding with my head up my ass, my own fault. I had bruised ribs and used ice on them.”
Marc stayed past the end of his shift. His replacement arrived and was kept busy with other patients. Marc stayed close to the admiral.
The doctor returned and spoke to the admiral, whose escort officers stood close. Dr. Falcone took a deep breath. “Admiral, you have a pleural effusion. Pleural means related to the lungs, and effusion is an excess buildup of fluid around the lungs. It can be caused by various things, but I suspect your bicycle accident caused it.”
The admiral asked, “I’m out of it. My mind isn’t clear, been a long time since I treated people. How serious is it? Can you give me pills so I can go home?”
“Sir, if left untreated, it can be fatal. While I think antibiotics are in order. You have a lot of fluid there. It could lead to lung failure or a heart attack. I’d like to insert a needle and draw out as much fluid as I can.”
The admiral coughed several times. “I’m not going home tonight, am I?”
Dr. Falcone shook his head. “No, Sir. I want you in the hospital for two to three days, just to be sure. I hope you have good insurance.” He smiled, and the humor lightened the mood in the room.
The patient nodded, and eyed his captain. “Call my wife.”
“Yes, Sir.”
After the doctor removed a copious amount of fluid from the chest, Marc walked with the admiral as he was wheeled to the third floor, where Marc normally worked. He turned him over to the on-duty staff.
Military Emancipation Page 6