by LA Witt
“Jesus, Eric,” he said, pausing to kiss the base of my neck. “This is what happens when…” He paused again, panting from exertion. “When you wear that damned suit.”
I laughed between gasps for air. “Not the first time you’ve seen it.”
“No.” He kissed just beneath my hairline. “Just this time, I could finally do something about it.” He straightened up and pulled out.
I wiped my hand on one side of the towel, then dropped onto my back, half on the towel, half on the scorching hot sand. He took the condom off and put it aside so we wouldn’t forget to get rid of it properly. Then he came down to kiss me, and I wrapped my arms around him. The sand burned my skin, but I didn’t care. Shane and I just held on to each other and kissed like there was no earthly reason not to. We both trembled, both panted, and for the longest time, the only sounds in the world were our uneven breaths and the tide lapping at the island around us.
After some undefined stretch of time had passed, Shane pushed himself up. Resting his weight on one arm, he touched my face with his free hand. His skin was sweaty and sun-kissed, and his hair was still damp as I combed my fingers through it.
This couldn’t be wrong. Out of uniform, away from the rest of the world, we were just two men, and I’d never been drawn so strongly to another man. Never.
But the rest of the world still existed, and we’d have to put on our uniforms again, and there were reasons why we couldn’t do this. Why we shouldn’t.
And, pulling him down to kiss me again, I just didn’t care.
Chapter Sixteen
Shane
Nightfall found Eric and me sitting in our swim trunks on towels in the sand in front of our tent, beers in hand, looking out at the island across the water. The air was still heavy with the day’s heat, but it was perfectly comfortable. The gentle breeze whispered across my shoulders and teased the ends of my hair. Which, of course, made me realize I needed to get to the Exchange and get a haircut before I was completely out of regs.
“Almost seems like we wouldn’t need a tent out here,” Eric said. “Weather’s perfect for sleeping under the stars.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Problem is that really big star that likes to show up in the morning. You want to wake up with a sunburn, be my guest, but…”
“On second thought…”
I laughed. “That’s what I thought.”
He chuckled. For a long moment, we just stared out at the island we’d left behind. A few lights dotted the landscape, which was solid black against a starry background, and the whole island seemed as still and quiet as this one. Eric rested his forearms on his knees and held his beer bottle between both hands. “You know what kind of blew my mind when I got to Okinawa?”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“How big the island really is.” He laughed softly. “Looking at it on a map, I guess I thought it would be more like…”
“Like this one?” I gestured at the sand below us.
“Something like that, yeah.” He kept his gaze fixed on the distant landmass. “Still just amazes me, I guess. It’s huge and it’s small at the same time.”
“Tiny enough to be suffocating,” I said, staring in the same direction, “big enough to get lost when you need to.”
“Exactly.”
We both fell silent.
“You know,” Eric said after a while, “if we’re going to start getting into metaphors and that kind of shit, we really ought to have a joint or something to pass around.”
I almost choked on my beer. “You got one with you, MA1?”
“Afraid not.” Sighing, he shook his head. “They keep that shit under lock and key at the precinct.”
“Bastards.”
We glanced at each other and both laughed.
“Man, sometimes I really wish we could,” he said, chuckling. “You’d think with everything the military puts us through, it would be a fair trade.”
“Agreed.” I gestured with my beer bottle. “They haven’t taken away the booze, though.”
He raised his own to his lips. “They’ll have to pry it from this Sailor’s cold, dead hands.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
We clinked the necks of our bottles together and each took a long drink.
Down the beach, the tide continued lapping at the sand. The occasional plane cut a lazy arc across the sky overhead. On the bigger island, an occasional lone car meandered along one of the dark roads. The soft sounds and dark, barely interrupted night were almost hypnotic, and I hadn’t even realized how long it had been since we’d spoken until Eric broke the silence.
“Listen, um,” he said, “my daughter’s coming to the island soon. For a few weeks right after school lets out.”
I absently played with the label on my beer bottle. “So we probably won’t see much of each other while she’s here, then.”
“Well, not necessarily. The thing is, I’ve kind of made it a point to let her meet guys I’m dating.”
I looked at him in the darkness. “Even if it might not, you know, last beyond the end of your tour?”
He nodded. “Honestly, I think it’s better that way. A lot of parents don’t introduce their kids to people unless it’s getting serious, but I think that can backfire a bit. Because then, if a kid’s introduced to someone, they’re going to assume it is getting serious, and if it doesn’t work out? Yeah, not good.”
“Huh. Never thought of it that way.”
He shrugged. “Her mother’s done the same thing. Once Marie was old enough to understand dating and things like that, we started introducing her to people. Not one-night stands or anything like that, but someone who was…” He hesitated, then turned to me. “Someone who might be in the picture for a while, even if not permanently.”
I swallowed. “Interesting way of approaching things.”
“It’s worked so far. We’ve both found it’s easier for her to accept when we split up with someone if she doesn’t have the expectation that we’re going to be together forever.” He held my gaze. “If it’s not too weird for you, I’d love to have you meet her.”
“Sure, yeah,” I said. “I’d definitely like to meet her.”
He smiled, but it faded. “We’ll still have to keep things sort of on the down low,” he said. “No eating dinner in a restaurant on base or anything.”
“Right, right, of course. Well, maybe we can all go snorkeling or something.” I made a sweeping gesture at the beach with my beer bottle. “We can bring her here for a day.”
“I think she’d like that,” he said, and though I couldn’t see it, his smile made it into his voice.
“I can’t say I’ve had much opportunity to introduce my kids to anyone.” I bit my tongue to keep from adding, they barely see me, never mind anyone I’ve dated since the divorce. “I mean, they know. That I date both men and women, that is. I can say a lot about my ex-wife, but she’s always treated it as completely normal that I’m bisexual. So the kids have always understood there’s nothing wrong with it.”
“You know,” he said. “It’s pretty sad that our kids get it, but our commands probably wouldn’t.”
“Such is the military.”
“Yeah. Such is the military.” He paused for a minute or two. “So what are you going to do when you get out?”
“Don’t know yet,” I said. “Depends on when I decide to retire, which depends on if I make captain.”
“So, assuming you get out at twenty…” He turned to me, the lift of his eyebrows barely visible in the low light.
“I’ve looked at a few options. Department of Defense contractor, maybe.” I paused. “Man, I keep thinking I’ve got years and years to think about it, but retirement is coming up fast.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said. “Amazing how retirement goes from being a million years in the future to something you actually have to start thinking about.”
I laughed. “No kidding. So what about you?”
Eric shrugged
. “Probably stay in law enforcement. I like being a cop, so…”
“Seems like a solid career path.”
“It’s always in demand, that’s for sure,” he said, laughing softly. “And I finished my degree a few months ago, which will make it easier to move up in rank in a police force.”
“You…have your degree?”
He nodded slowly, gaze fixed on Okinawa.
“Have you ever… I mean, have you considered—”
“Getting my commission?”
“Yeah.”
Another nod. He lowered his gaze, probably focusing on the beer bottle between his hands. “I’ve thought about it a lot.” He paused, and then turned toward me. “Especially recently.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. Either LDO or OCS.” He took a long swallow of beer. “If I put in for LDO, I could put on ensign within a year. If I go to OCS, it could be sooner, but…”
I exhaled. Officer Candidate School may have been a faster route than limited duty officer for him to put on rank, but he stood a good chance of getting transferred elsewhere after he finished.
“Well, whatever’s the best thing for your career.”
“It wouldn’t solve all our problems,” he said. “There’s still the possibility of getting nailed for fraternization while I’m a junior officer.”
“I know,” I said. “It would help, though.”
“True. It would be a less severe reprimand if we got caught then versus now.”
“There is that.” I paused. “You’re not making the decision based on us, are you?”
He was quiet for much too long for me to believe the answer was no. He twisted away from me and, I guessed, pushed his beer into the sand, because when he faced the island again, his hands were empty. After a long moment, he shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m basing this decision on. I really don’t.”
“Eric,” I said. “This is a two-decade-long career. We’re…who knows what?”
“I know,” he said. “And part of me says I shouldn’t make any career decisions based on this.” His whisper was barely audible over the gently lapping waves below us. “But then, I’m already gambling with it.” He turned his head toward me. “Seems like I could do worse than making a decision that’ll further my career and could save it.”
“That’s true,” I said. “Which begs the same question we’ve had to ask ourselves over and over from day one.”
“Is what we’re doing worth it?”
“I think so.” I paused. “Is it?”
Eric was still and silent for a moment. I couldn’t see his features, couldn’t make out anything except the vague outline of his face, but I imagined his eyes were as intense as they always were.
“I think it’s worth it,” he said after a moment. “What do you think?”
The ambitious, dedicated, career-oriented side of me who’d worked through four years of college and a decade and a half in the Navy knew damn well this wasn’t worth what I was risking. The side of me who’d spent way too much time with Eric, and who’d been alone far too long before that, disagreed.
I turned away long enough to twist my beer bottle into the sand. With my hands free, I faced him again and reached for the side of his neck. “I don’t know,” I said, leaning closer. “All I know is that I want you.” I barely grazed his lips with mine. “I probably want you more than I should. I just don’t care.”
“Neither do I.” He cupped the back of my neck and kissed me.
The kiss went on. Deepened. Still went on. We wrapped our arms around each other and moved closer, letting skin touch skin as we kissed tenderly, lazily.
Eric lay back, drawing me down with him, and we landed softly on the towel. I leaned down and kissed his neck. His skin was still salty from the ocean, but the faintest hints of his familiar scent teased goose bumps to life on my back and arms.
My chin grazed his collarbone, and he shivered, digging his fingers into my shoulders. When he squirmed beneath me, his erection brushed mine through our shorts.
“Oh God…” He whimpered softly. “Tell me we still have condoms.”
“Of course we do.” I raised my head and kissed him. “You’re not tired from that last go-around, then? Or the last swim?”
“Are you?”
“Not even close.”
“Good.” He kissed me and ground his hips against mine. “Neither am I.”
We took off our swim trunks, and then Eric handed me a condom. I couldn’t get it on fast enough, and thank God he had the presence of mind to put some lube in his hand so it was ready to stroke onto my cock the second the condom was in place.
Once I was on my back, Eric straddled me, and I held his hip in one hand and my cock in the other as he lowered himself onto me. Biting my lip, I arched my back, the sand shifting beneath the towel. Christ, he felt amazing.
“This count as sex on the beach?” he asked.
“Close enough,” I said. “It’s sex with you; that’s all I care about.”
“Ditto.” He came down to kiss me, and I wrapped my arms around him.
Sex on the beach, sex on the moon, I didn’t give a fuck. I was deep inside him, our bodies moving together like they were made for this, and it just didn’t get any better than this.
“Fuck…” He pushed himself up on his arms and rode me faster. The wind tried to carry away his whispered curses, but then he threw his head back and groaned, and I swore his voice carried for miles. Let everyone hear him. I didn’t care. Let them hear both of us.
I gripped his arms and screwed my eyes shut, thrusting up into him, my hips moving in sync with his, and I thought I heard myself begging him not to stop, or maybe it was him, because I could barely catch my breath at all, never mind speak, and my whole body shook and tingled and—
“Oh God, Oh God, fuck…” I grabbed his hips and pulled him down onto my cock, and both our voices echoed into the stillness of the night as I came, and he came, and we both shuddered together.
Eric slumped over me. He panted, but that didn’t stop him from finding my lips with his and trying to kiss. Though my limbs were heavy, my body already getting lethargic after such a powerful orgasm, I wrapped my arms around him and returned his gentle, breathless kiss.
“I have to say,” he whispered, letting our lips brush, “coming out to this island? Awesome idea.”
“Hmm.” I touched his face and raised my head to kiss him. “You know? I think I’m inclined to agree.”
~*~
When Eric and I stepped off the boat, I hoped the owner took my slight stumble onto the dock as a lack of sea legs. No Navy man would want to admit to being unsteady on the waves, but at least that would mean the guy didn’t catch on to my lingering unsteadiness from having sex with Eric.
After we’d carried everything up the boat ramp, we both loaded our gear into the trunks of our cars. I slammed the lid and looked at Eric.
“Want to grab something to eat?”
“Definitely,” he said. “You know any places near here, or should we head back up north?”
“There’s a little town not far from here. Great place for soba.” And staying out a little longer than we probably should, but I just don’t fucking care.
He seemed to chew on the idea for a moment. “And this is someplace where people won’t see us?”
“Just the locals, who won’t care one way or the other.”
Another moment of mulling it over. Then he nodded. “Okay, yeah. I’ll follow you.”
My car groaned all the way up the steep hill from the dock to the highway. Eric’s probably did too. These little piece-of-shit cars were not made for some of the hills and mountains on Okinawa.
At the top of the hill, a right turn would have taken us back up north to Kadena and White Beach, but I turned left, and Eric followed.
This was one of the more rural areas of Okinawa. Truthfully, almost anything outside Naha, Nago, or the areas immediately surrounding the main bases qualified as rural.
Down below us, small fishing boats lined concrete docks beside heaps of drying fishnets, and as the highway wound up into the hills, small houses dotted the heavily forested terrain between farms and clusters of concrete, turtle-shell-shaped tombs. Farther inland, three white wind turbines towered over the hillside, carving lazily spinning shadows over sugarcane fields, banana trees and dragonfruit farms.
It was hard to believe one of the bloodiest battles of World War II’s Pacific Theatre had occurred here. Most of this area, even more so than the northern half of the island, had been razed. The plants had grown back, the buildings had been reconstructed, and if I didn’t know the history, I never would have guessed a battle, never mind a decisive and destructive one like that, had occurred here.
Thirty minutes or so after we left the boat launch, I pulled into a mostly empty parking lot beside two rows of shops. I hadn’t been down to Itoman in a while and had been meaning to come here anyway. I wasn’t at all worried about anyone seeing us here; this was another place where the only Americans I’d ever seen were the ones I’d brought with me.
We wandered past the shops in search of a place to eat.
Across the street from one shop, an elderly Japanese woman sold small bouquets of flowers from a tiny wooden booth. People purchased the bouquets, then disappeared up a wide concrete path that led into a park.
Eric nodded toward it. “What’s going on over there?”
“That’s the Himeyuri Peace Memorial,” I said. “Want to check it out?”
“Sure, why not?”
I dug out three hundred yen and handed it to the woman selling flowers. She gave us each a small arrangement, and Eric and I started up the path.
“So, what’s the deal with the flowers?” he asked.
“You’ll see.”
The path wound past several small monuments and shrines, most of which were inscribed in kanji. One placard was written in English, detailing what had happened here and the purpose of the peace park, but we didn’t stop to read it. Having been here twice before, I’d concluded that the memorial had a greater impact if someone saw it first, then learned the significance behind it.