Diving Deep

by P D Singer

  A new scar on Bobby’s shoulder needed careful investigation. Other, more familiar paths drew Lee’s tongue, for wet tracings over the map of Bobby’s life. Tomorrow would be soon enough to find out what had left that ridged trail across his deltoid. Worry and past dangers had no place in their narrow bed.

  Tipping his head up the slight angle to meet Bobby’s mouth, Lee gave himself over to the joy of kissing Bobby. Their lips sealed together and broke apart for caresses and nibbles. Bobby caught Lee’s lower lip, sucking gently in the way that always turned Lee to mush. His knees didn’t want to hold.

  Bobby guided him to the bed, dropping him on his back to climb aboard. The solid weight of his lover fit perfectly against the breadth of Lee’s chest and across his hips. He loved being on the bottom under Bobby. About as much as he loved being on top, but Bobby was here, leaning down for kisses because he wanted to be, not because Lee had trapped him. Not with bulk, or with guilt. They frotted together out of desire—Bobby wanted to try again, and trying meant holding him with arms and legs and mouth.

  If they could stay here forever, that would be just fine. Except they might want to get a little more vigorous. Or more connected. But there was time. Because Bobby’d suggested trying again.

  Oh, to look into his eyes from the closest range possible, with skin to skin and a double handful of Bobby’s butt. Lee thrust his tongue deep into Bobby’s mouth to be met with a ferocity that matched his own. Feral noises of need trickled out of both of them, making a lie out of having time. He needed now. He wanted now. Bobby thrust his stiff cock against Lee’s belly faster, harder. They were going to get rug burns dragging their cocks against each other’s body hair, and it would be worth it.

  “I want…,” Bobby gasped.

  “What?” Anything Bobby wanted, Lee would give him. Didn’t matter what.

  “I want my cock in you, but…?” Bobby ended his question with Lee’s earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently.

  “Okay.” Yes! He’d only dreamed of this on lonely nights, when a toy could do the deed and leave his heart wanting. “It’s been a while. Can you go slow?”

  “Slow as you need me to, but… I didn’t bring anything.”

  “I did. Let me up.” Lee twisted Bobby over and headed to his pack.

  “You did?” Raised on one elbow, Bobby stretched the length of the bed, totally naked and harder than hell, cock jumping with each heartbeat, just like Lee’s. Bobby’s cock aimed straight at his navel, a crystal bead at the tip. Muscles rippled under his skin, making shadows with the light brown hair on his chest. Damn but he was beautiful. “Why?”

  “Because I was afraid I’d need to whack off every few hours from just being around you.” Lee stared at the vision waiting to fuck him, groping blindly into his pack. He could find all sorts of things underwater in the dark with gloves on; the squishy packets should be easy to find with bare fingers. Lee still had to rummage, and maybe he’d touched the sachets twice while he was drinking in the gorgeous sight of Bobby waiting for him in bed.

  Finally! “Here, catch.” He tossed a couple of packets at Bobby, who plucked them out of the air. Better to have him look at the goodies than at Lee, even with less bourbon riding around his middle than a month ago. That bitch Nancy Whiskey had softened him up, but he was on his way back.

  Sitting up, Bobby examined his catch. Lee plastered himself against Bobby’s back, lips to Bobby’s neck. “I want to watch you slather that on.”

  “I’ll goop you first. Um, these are both lube.” Bobby looked a question over his shoulder.

  Condoms hadn’t been part of their sex life in years. “It’s all we need, unless there’s something you ought to mention.”

  Getting drunk in a waterfront bar was easy. Finding a partner to go into a nonexistent back room wasn’t, especially if he wasn’t looking. Desperation and loneliness drove Lee to another drink, not to another man. But Bobby?

  “Nothing to mention.” Bobby managed to hook an arm around Lee’s waist to tumble him into a waiting lap. “Maybe if there was, I could have gotten over you. As it turns out—” Lee’s heart pounded loud enough to compete with the miracle words growled into his ear. “—getting over you might have been a bad idea.”

  “Terrible idea. Worst ever.” Lee would have to make that so.

  Somehow Lee ended up on his back again, with Bobby’s head on his chest. On a bigger mattress, Bobby would have stayed on the bed, close enough for Lee to reach his ass. With a twin-sized surface, he knelt on the floor, snaking his arm under Lee’s thigh. Lee didn’t mind. With one hand Bobby threaded fingers through Lee’s hair, and with the other he prepped the narrow passage. “You’re so tight.”

  “Been so long, I’m practically a virgin again.” He stroked Bobby’s cheek in time to the action in his ass, willing his tight hole to relax. Bobby’s fingers belonged there. So did his cock. Prepping was a joy in itself—they could take their time here too. The last of the light filtered in through the ugly curtains. They had all night, and the night was still young.

  One of these days they were going to shave before bed. Bobby’s whiskers drew a scratchy path when he turned to flick at a nipple. Suddenly they had no time at all. “I think I’m about ready.”

  Ready or not, Lee wasn’t going to wait any longer, not after watching Bobby squish another packet on his dick. He’d help rub the lube all over, except Bobby was putting on such a show. He’d be so damn slick, the way his cock slid through his fist, the purplish head disappearing in wrinkles of skin and then popping out again. That cock belonged in his ass.

  Lee rolled to his side, scooching until his knees hung over the edge. Last night this midair balancing act had been to get away from the relentless hugger pursuing him. Tonight it was to make room for him. Bobby cuddled in behind Lee, ready to make good on the promise he’d made in his sleep.

  Nuzzling at Lee’s neck, Bobby guided his cock toward Lee’s hole. He pushed in slowly, stopping for gasps and squeaks, spreading him wide. Lee grabbed a handful of Bobby’s ass, flexing with controlled power. Urging him in, Lee pushed against him, wanting this joining, needing Bobby balls deep in him to prove he was back. Back where Lee wanted him so badly.

  He was wrapped in Bobby, wrapped around Bobby enough to groan aloud for the time he’d forced them away from each other. Now when they coupled, slowly, then minutely faster, Lee wanted to be filled enough to make up for the lonely months. He could take it. Bobby’d give him what they both wanted. Bobby hadn’t forgotten a thing about where Lee’s gland lay and knocked it with every thrust.

  “I’ve missed you so much.” Lee turned to whisper the words.

  Bobby met him with sideways kisses and a hand for Lee’s straining cock. “Missed you too. Missed this. Missed talking. Missed everything.”

  “Me too.” Lee pounded back, hard. On their sides, back to front, was their favorite, the perfect way to start again. Bobby was filling him with the months of pent-up desire.

  Lee wanted everything Bobby could give him. His body remembered. Blooming around the thick rod his lover guided inside, aching with the unaccustomed stretch, and lighting up with the pleasure of every thrust.

  The duvet had long since slithered off the bed, which squeaked with their rhythm. If the walls were thin, too bad, because nothing could keep Lee from gasping Bobby’s name in fits and starts between their thrusts. Lee didn’t need gentle anymore, or if he needed it, he didn’t want it. He wanted Bobby to pound him like he’d never left.

  They rocked against each other to the tune of the bedsprings. Then a sudden silence, quickly ended with a hideous thump. Lee jerked his head back fast enough to avoid a face-plant into the wooden floor, but the brief drop about stopped his heart. After his “Aaah!” stopped echoing, he could be grateful he was the one who fell off in the middle of sex, not Bobby. A guy who didn’t like heights would probably insist on sleeping bags on the floor after that.

  Bobby peered over the side of the bed. “Are you okay?”

  Th
e laughter bubbled up from somewhere around Lee’s belly button. “You’re supposed to screw me into the mattress, not off of it.” Aside from the startle and one knee that would stop throbbing soon, he was fine. To prove it, he climbed back into bed.

  “Sorry about that.” Bobby apologized with lips and tongue, lulling Lee into forgiveness that turned into lying on his belly with his knees wide apart. Bobby greased him up again and pressed the head of his cock back where it belonged. Oh, the weight of him, and the width of his cock….

  “Grease the torpedo liberally to insert it in the tube,” Lee intoned.

  Snorting with laughter, Bobby collapsed across Lee’s back. “Only you,” he wheezed. “Only you.”

  Yeah, that was exactly how Lee wanted it. Only him. And only Bobby. Together.

  Chapter 16

  THE DEUTSCHES U-Boot Museum turned out to be a stately red brick house in the suburbs. A battleship-sized anchor rested in the front garden. Bobby had no doubt it was the real thing.

  They were greeted by a man who looked to be in his late twenties, blond, with gray eyes behind square glasses. He offered his hand. “Welcome. I am Felix Bredow. How can I assist your researches?”

  How much should they tell their guide? Would even asking trigger the attention of the government? Bobby hadn’t been specific in his request when he’d e-mailed. How could he? They hadn’t known as much on Monday as they did today.

  “We’re trying to identify a wreck off the coast of Delaware,” Lee offered. “I can provide rough coordinates.”

  Felix led them toward a map on the wall, similar to what they’d seen in Möltenort. “Are you sure your wreck is none of these?” He pointed to pinned boat numbers.

  “I’ve dived all of them, Felix. This wreck isn’t a known site.” Bobby could tell one dive site from another. “It’s not on the US charts.”

  “Perhaps that is to keep divers such as yourself away from it?” Felix raised one eyebrow.

  “It’s not on your chart either,” Lee pointed out, more calmly than Bobby could have managed. “Besides, Delaware is down here.” He pointed to the coastline where the Bottom Hunter might have stopped bobbing in the storm surf. “The wreck is about one hundred kilometers offshore, which puts it well between the known wrecks.”

  Felix rubbed his chin. “Curious. We have nearly fifty boats still unaccounted for. Perhaps you have found one? But so many people claim that. They are often trolling for information they can use to their own benefit.”

  Bobby swallowed his wrath at the insinuation. Felix Bredow didn’t know them from Adam. He had no reason to believe he was speaking to honest men. “We have information that suggests the boat could be one of four.”

  “Do explain.” Felix crossed his arms as if nothing could convince him.

  Challenge accepted. Bobby could spin out his information until the archivist spilled some in return. “Possibly it’s the U-521, if it was able to run undetected for more than a hundred miles from the final battle site. We find that least likely, based on other information. The other candidates are U-780, U-823, and U-919.”

  “You seem oddly specific with your guesses. I would like to know why.” Felix didn’t relax one bit. If anything he coiled up more tensely.

  “Before I tell you that, I need to know where you stand with the government.” Having this dive site taken away before he’d solved his mystery, because of the way he tried to solve it, would suck canal water.

  Felix drew himself to full height, which still didn’t put him eye to eye with Lee or Bobby. “We have no standing, precisely. We are a private archive, filled with artifacts and papers that the government either did not care to keep, never had, or have given copies. My grandfather started the archive after the war, with papers he collected from his fellow submariners. I cannot make the government chase you away from the wreck, though I can ask.”

  “I understand why you would. You don’t know us from the Eddies of the world.” Bobby forced himself to speak calmly.

  “The Eddies?” Felix might be trying to shake English vocabulary loose with that twitch.

  “The kind of diver who doesn’t respect the wreck or the men who died with it. Eddy went out with us once, and he can’t dive with us again.” Lee explained what Bobby had garbled. “I won’t take him on my boat. Felix, we’re trying to be respectful. Only six divers have visited that boat. One won’t go back, one can’t go back, and three of them are some of the best I know. Only I and one other captain know the coordinates, and the other one is a fisherman. So please, can we share information?”

  So Lee didn’t trust Kent either? And did Felix do arithmetic in English? Bobby held his breath, waiting for the archivist’s answer.

  Felix thawed slightly. “So many still see us as the enemy, the other, and believe it is acceptable to plunder.”

  “That’s exactly why Lee kicked Eddy off the Bottom Hunter.” And incidentally kept Bobby from punching him, a desire that curled his fists even now. Bobby forced his hands open.

  “The Bottom Hunter?” One corner of Felix’s mouth lifted. “Do you catch many?”

  No one they’d talked to since they’d arrived in Germany had shown the least trace of a sense of humor. Were jokes forbidden north of Hamburg? Not that they’d talked to anyone at great length but…. Was Felix joking? Or—was he flirting?

  “Just one.” Bobby hoped that covered all the options.

  “Indeed.” Felix nodded as if he’d answered his own question. “So, let us see why you believe your unknown boat might be one of these?” He led them past cases of fascinating U-boat bits to a staircase that led to an office.

  They spread their sketches and notes over a partially clear library table. Bobby offered his sketches. “We don’t know which of our possible boats had this kind of conning tower. Short of a refit, we don’t believe the U-521 did. The other three might, since they were built later. We hoped you had this information.”

  Felix examined the sketches. “We can check the files. What else?”

  Bobby caught Lee’s eye with a question. A minute nod reassured him they were in agreement. He activated the picture gallery on his phone and handed it over. “This is the only artifact we’ve taken from the boat, and I wouldn’t have taken it except it fell on me. But I’m glad it did, because it had a name on it.”

  “Asbeck,” Felix whispered. “Not so common a name.” He glanced up sharply. “I take it you have already looked for Asbecks in the crew lists, and that is why you ask about these boats?”

  “We just came from Möltenort,” Bobby admitted. “We found three, although we started with the 500s. Maybe some of the earlier boats were refitted with this style conning tower, and we missed some. It was… difficult to find these.” He wouldn’t say how terrible it had been for Lee, nor how he had barely held himself together because Lee needed him to.

  “No, this tower wasn’t popular for refitting. It required a bigger opening in the hull than the original designs. I suspect you missed nothing, though I can check our records.” Felix enlarged the picture, demanding the details. “No first initial, but why would it if our Asbeck was the only one aboard?”

  Well, that would have been too easy, wouldn’t it? The universe didn’t do things that way.

  “Come, let us find out which boat you have found.” Felix ushered them downstairs and across the street to a yellow house marked U-Boot Archiv. “We had to move most of the written material. There is so much.”

  Felix led them unerringly to shelves of material marked with boat numbers. “We have logs, letters, building documents. Pictures. We start there.” He pulled down the box marked U-521. “I think you were right, this is not the boat. Even without consulting the crew roster, or tracing all Asbecks’ tours of duty.” He showed them a black-and-white picture of young men around a multilevel conning tower, leaning against the guns. “This was taken before they left on their last patrol. See the date?”

  Lee hiccupped. Bobby stepped a little closer, the better to squeeze Lee’
s hand. He would think of the men in the photograph as people, not history. This could be as hard for him as yesterday. Lee squeezed back. “One down, three to go” didn’t sound at all like an appropriate thing to say.

  “What of U-780?” Lee asked.

  “Let us see.” Felix pulled down another box full of fascinating papers he didn’t stop to show off. What were they? Perhaps they’d been nothing but tedious supply requisitions when they were written, but now they were a glimpse into the past. Felix removed a sheet to read, then offered it to his guests.

  “Looks like Theodor was Leutnant zur See. Didn’t the officers bunk farther forward than the men did?” Lee picked up a detail.

  “Yes.” Felix sorted through the box’s contents.

  “I’m pretty sure that razor came out of the crew’s quarters, not the officers’.” Bobby was quite sure—he made it a point to measure and calibrate.

  “Even so, this U-boat’s end is well documented. Men were taken aboard an American vessel.” The action reports Felix produced confirmed his words. The U-780 did not lie within five hundred miles of their wreck.

  So, two down. Bobby’s gut churned. Would it be this easy? Two more chances. Fifty-fifty. Or a dozen chances, if the unknown Asbeck had left his razor behind when he transferred to another boat. Bobby refused to let his hopes be dashed that way. He wouldn’t mention it to Lee, who gazed at the shelves of documents, his lips pressed thin.

  “Let us look at our next candidate.” The box for U-823 was just as full as the others. “Asbeck, Hans-Georg, Matrosengefreiter,” they read from the crew roster.

  “A seaman who worked the artillery,” explained Felix. “Also, this boat has the type of conning tower you found.”