Chapter Text
As Master Chief Petty Officer Francis E. Sharkey emerged from the embarkation hatch, he paused. The sounds of the men calling out Christmas greetings to each other as they hurried to the parking lot reached his ears. Normally, Christmas would have meant more to him. He usually went to visit his parents and aunts and uncles, as well as his sister's family. This year, however, Seaview was due to sail again on 2 January. He would have to be back aboard two days after Christmas to assist in the preparations. Since his family lived in Manhattan, there was no time to visit, even if he could manage to book a flight.
Sharkey gripped his duffel bag in his left hand and shifted his seabag as he stared into the night sky. An occasional star shone as the thick clouds broke apart. What good is Christmas, anyway? If I were in retail sales, I'd love it. If I had little kids and could watch their eyes light up on Christmas morning, I'd get that enjoyment out of it.
The floodgates holding back the memories could no longer be held shut. Abby would have had a birthday tomorrow! What a time we would have had if-. Damn drunk driver. Didn't get a scratch. Since Wyman Dawes was in with all the right people, he got off with a year's probation. Well, one day, Mr. Wyman Dawes will face his Maker with not only Abigail's, Bert's, and Anna's blood on his hands, but the blood of our unborn child, too.
The tears spilled onto his cheeks. He quickly retrieved his handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped them away, then blew his nose.
Sharkey thought about the other two marriages. The second had ended half-way amicably, but the third--. He broke off the thought.
Women! Can't live with 'em and can't live without 'em, and it ain't legal to just shoot 'em and save yourself a hell of a lot of misery. I never thought I was a movie star or a sex machine, but I thought Delores was happy. Then, I came home a week early. She had moved out and taken everything. She had found somebody else while I was gone. During that divorce, I found out how ugly I was, what a sorry lover I was, how stupid, how oafish, how insensitive, how boring-how-.
That list could go on forever. That had been almost as bad a trauma as his first family's deaths.
With her, I was the happiest since Abby and our kids died. He wiped his eyes again. So much for living happily ever after, he thought bitterly.
He thought about his black book. Maybe he could find some temporary comfort to get him out of his shitty mood. But who wants to spend Christmas with an ugly, stupid oaf? Yes, I can find someone to have sex with, but someone to give a damn about me? That's a different story.
"Hey, Chief. You okay?" inquired a familiar voice a few feet behind him.
Turning, he looked up into Sparks' earnest face. "Just thinking for a minute," he said, forcing himself to smile. "I thought you'd left an hour ago."
"I'm glad some people have something good to think about," said the young Communications Officer, the corners of his mouth uncharacteristically down-turned.
"At least your family's here," he reminded Sparks. No need to burden him with my shitty mood.
Sparks' full lips pressed together in a thin line as his eyes narrowed. "You mean my ex-family," he corrected, a bitter edge to his voice. "Sue packed up the kids and moved out. She filed for divorce while we were at sea."
"Gee, I hate that for you; and right at Christmas, too. She could've at least waited until after the holidays," he murmured, suddenly feeling ashamed for becoming so engrossed in his own troubles that he had not thought about his friend
"What are you going to do?" asked Sparks. "Want to have a drink?"
The last thing he wanted was to be in a huge crowd with a lot of loud music. "No. I think I'll just go back to my place," he said, then noticed his friend's crestfallen look. "Say, why don't you come with me? If you'd like, we could celebrate Christmas at my place."
Sparks' expression brightened. "Look, I need to take care of some things first. Why don't you give me a little time, and I'll join you?"
He paused. "I just realized. I don't know where you live."
Sharkey set down his seabag and unzipped his duffel bag. He withdrew a small black notebook and wrote down his address and phone numbers, then tore it out and handed it to Sparks.
"See you later," Sparks said, hurrying to his car.
**
As Sharkey drove to his house, he let out a long sigh. For the first time since the Seaview made port, he felt he might just make it through Christmas. He was almost home when he realized that he had bought no food and no presents. I can't have that, Sharkey decided.
He turned at the nearest exit and drove downtown to the nearest mall.
Due to the holidays, the stores were still open, despite the late hour.
As Sharkey looked over various items that might make a good gift for Sparks, he could not decide on a tool set, a Brew Station, or a blue-and-brown plaid bathrobe and pajama set. Finally, he opted for the Brew Station and the bathrobe and pajama set in extra-large and tall size. Quickly, he paid for them.
"May we gift wrap those for you, sir?" asked a pleasant young woman.
Sharkey almost told her that she did not address a Chief Petty Officer as "sir", but caught himself in time. He nodded, glad to be relieved of that chore.
At the grocery store, Sharkey picked out a medium-sized turkey and a ham about the same size, as well as the ingredients with which to cook them.
After paying for them, he drove back to his house, grateful to be through with the hast-minute holiday buying. I sent my family their presents before we sailed since the Admiral said he didn't know if we'd be back in time. Mom and Dad will be so happy with their coats and the Brew Station. Ethel and her husband don't drink coffee, so I bought them a deep fryer and a large electric griddle. The kids'll be happy with the toys and clothes. He felt a twinge of homesickness. I wish I could be there when they opened them.
He turned into his driveway and parked. He had finished carrying in everything when the headlights of a car shone through the living room window. Looking out the window, he saw a red Pontiac Firebird pull in and park behind his car. A familiar man got out and reached behind the seat. He pulled out several bags and walked toward the house.
Sharkey turned on the porch light and opened the door. Sparks entered.
"Hey, Sharkey, where do you want me to take these?"
"What all did you get?" asked Sharkey.
"I got a big turkey and the ingredients for the green bean casserole and the dressing and some gifts," he replied, his wide, full lips parting in a smile.
"Sparks, you didn't have to do that," protested Sharkey. "I stopped and got things for Christmas dinner. I didn't mean for you to go to any trouble."
"You asked me over to spend Christmas with you. It's the least I can do," said Sparks. "I also got some cognac, a bottle of Crown Royal, and some beer. I remember you said you like Michelob and Lowenbrau Dark, so I got two six-packs of each."
"Sounds great. My favorites," Sharkey told him.
"I got several movies, too. I wasn't sure what you liked. I got some comedies and some old sci-fi movies that you find on late-night or early morning TV."
"Great!" Sparks exclaimed. "I always liked "Science Fiction Theater" and stuff like that," he said. "It came on back in the Nineteen Fifties and Sixties, so they were before my time, but the Nostalgia channel and some of the old sci-fi programs liked to air them. I watched them every chance I could."
Sharkey grinned. "Me, too. My dad always watched sports, but Mama let us watch the Nostalgia Channel and some others. She wouldn't let us watch just anything." He laughed. "She didn't want us to pick up foul language and learn about things we shouldn't."
Sparks' face took on a wistful look. "Sounds like she loved you a lot and cared how you turned out."
Sharkey chuckled again. "But she sent us to school every day. We heard as many four-letter words as if we were out with a bunch of drunk sailors. Matter of fact, the teachers used to catch boys and girls hiding behind the curtains in the auditorium."
"What were they doing?" asked Sparks.
"The boys called themselves humping the girls."
"I hope they used some protection," Sparks said. "How old were they?"
"That was all through school, but my better memories of it were in elementary school."
"Elementary school!" Sparks echoed.
"Yeah. From junior high on up, I can see it. We both know that our hormones start kicking in at about eleven for some of us. We want to experiment," Sharkey said.
"How many girls were you caught with? I bet you were caught with at least two a week," Sparks said, grinning.
Sharkey shook his head. "If my parents had been called to the school because I'd done something like that, I'd still be black-and-blue. Besides, I was a little shy when I was in grade school."
"Was there never any times when two boys or two girls were caught together?" asked Sparks.
"It probably happened, but not at school," Sharkey acknowledged.
Why would he want to know that? wondered Sharkey. Could it be--? He broke off the thought. He's been married twice, so I don't think he's gay. But I've been married three times and I've had some-encounters with men.
He had begun having sex in the tenth grade, but that had been only with girls. Then, he had joined the Navy. After he had been assigned aboard one of the submarines, there had been another sailor or two that he had become close friends with. Sometimes, they would spend their shore leaves together. One time, Sharkey and Ralph Barton had rented a room when they had made port. Both men had been out on the town, but were still just drunk enough not to care what happened next.
As Sharkey returned to their motel room from his date, Barton had emerged from the shower with a towel wrapped around his slim waist and hips. "You score with that chick?" he had asked him, coming to sit beside him on his bed.
"Yeah," Sharkey murmured.
"I guess you're happy now. You got some," Barton had said, grinning. There had been something about his smile that had seemed sad or forced.
"Yeah. It was okay," Sharkey had responded.
"Women are okay, I guess." Then, Sharkey had noticed Barton's searching gaze. "It's better than using your hand." Barton had laid a hand on his shoulder. Their gaze had met and held. "There's another way to go," Barton had murmured huskily. He had leaned over and kissed Sharkey on the lips very lightly, very gently.
At first, Sharkey had been too shocked to move. Barton had then kissed him again as he ran his fingers over his cock, which had almost immediately begun to harden.
Even now, Sharkey felt his body respond to the memory. For the first time in his life, he had felt a real connection with someone while having sex. From then on, they had dated and had sex with women to divert suspicion, but their main affections had been reserved for each other.
Later, both men had been transferred to other boats. Sharkey had found another lover, Senior Chief Petty Officer Harmon Hampton. Although the man had been over him in the chain of command, he had insisted that Sharkey be the best in his unit. It had been a difficult relationship because of that, but it had been a very companionable, pleasant one when they were not on the boat.
About fifteen months later, Hampton had been suddenly transferred. However, he had managed to have a word with Sharkey before leaving. "Somebody reported me to the NIS. I don't know who, so watch yourself. You don't have to talk to them at all, but whatever you do, don't tell them anything. If they tell you I spilled the beans on you or anyone else, it's a damn lie."
"What the hell were you doing having sex with someone else?" Sharkey had demanded. There had been no formal understanding between them. Still, Sharkey had felt hurt.
"It was before you. He was transferred out just before we got together," Hampton had told him.
The NIS had not visited him, but he had taken that to be the handwriting on the wall. He had never gotten involved in another same-sex relationship again. A few months later, Sharkey had met Abigail. She had loved him from the start; he had felt very deeply about her. They had wasted no time in starting their family. Then--.
Sharkey felt a warm weight on his shoulder. "Hey, Sharkey, you okay?" Sparks asked. "You had this sad, faraway look on your face."
"Just thinking a little too much, I guess," Sharkey replied.
"I guess I do that, too." Sparks opened the bottle of Crown Royal. He took a rocks glass from the glass cabinet and poured himself a glass. Sharkey opened the fridge and took out a bottle of Lowenbrau Dark. Sharkey headed for the den, Sparks in his wake. They sat on the large sofa and propped their feet on two large ottomans. "By the way, you can call me Francis, if you want to," Sharkey told him.
"I'm Peter Colton, but my friends call me Pete." Sparks grinned. "And I definitely consider you a good friend."
**
After watching a couple of the movies that Sparks had rented, Sharkey switched off the remote control. "Thanks for bringing the movies. I've really enjoyed them," Sharkey said.
A feeling of warmth not related to the whiskey he had drunk spread through Sparks. "I'm glad you liked them," he said.
A pleasant silence reigned between them for a moment.
"Where are your parents?" asked Sharkey. "I've meant to ask you where they live."
Memories he had long buried began to seep into his mind. "They lived in Portland, Oregon. My parents were killed when I was eight."
"Damn, that was a tough break for you," Sharkey said.
You have no idea how tough, thought Sparks.
"What happened to you after that?"
"I stayed with my grandparents until I was about eleven. They became too ill to take care of me, so they sent me to my dad's aunt and uncle."
"At least you were with family," Sharkey said.
"My grandparents were really good to me. My aunt and uncle didn't have much money to speak of. Still, they took me in." A lump came into his throat as more memories surfaced.
"Did they have any kids?" asked Sharkey.
Sparks nodded. "Two boys and a girl."
"At least there were others your own age around. It made a new family for you to fit into, I suppose," Sharkey said.
At first, maybe. Then, after about five months, I was persona non grata. They watched every forkful of food I put into my mouth, every glass of juice I drank, everything I did. Finally, they sent me away. Sparks did not want to go into it. "I didn't stay there long. They sent me to an orphanage in about six months." He picked up the bottle of Crown Royal and poured himself another glass, then tossed it down.
Sharkey frowned. "Damn! Sounds like some fucked-up people," he said. "How long did you stay in the orphanage?"
"Until I was almost fifteen."
"Did they treat you good?" asked Sharkey, moving closer to Sparks. "Ever since I've known you, you've always been pretty quiet, so I can't see you as a troublemaker."
Don't think too long about that! Sparks told himself sternly.
"Sometimes, trouble comes and finds you," he mumbled.
"Were they mean to you?" Sharkey frowned, his brown eyes full of sympathy.
"The adults punished me, mostly for fighting. I guess the other kids thought they could pick on me because I was quiet. I'd take it till I'd had enough, then knock the hell out of the ones doing it."
"That's understandable," Sharkey said. "The adults should've tried to stop them from picking on you."
"They did, but you know how kids can be if they decide someone doesn't act and walk and talk like they think they should," Sparks said.
"Cruel," Sharkey said bluntly.
Sparks thought back to his early teens. Yes, he had experimented a little with girls. Although he had liked it, girls had not become the obsession that they had with most of the other boys.
Then, Brad had arrived. At first, he had seemed to be all right. Then, Brad's loutish, insensitive ways had begun to show. He had begun to bully others, but had not been too hard on him. Several times, Sparks had noticed Brad staring at him from across the room.
When he had showered, Brad had begun taking his shower at the same time. The way Brad had looked at him had made him feel so-strange.
One night after bed check, Brad had come to Sparks' room. "Come with me, Peter," he had instructed. He had gone with Brad to the gym. It had been locked, but Brad had managed to get them in by pulling open the rear door, which had not locked automatically.
There, on the mat where the boys practiced their wrestling moves, Brad had introduced him into the world of same-sex. The first few times, it had been kissing and manual stimulation. After that, the relationship had escalated to oral sex. At first, the taste had grossed him out. It took me a little time to get to where I could swallow his load and not get sick from it. Finally, it got so that I didn't mind it too much. And Brad gave a real great blowjob and swallowed my load. Sparks felt his loins become heavy as he remembered how good it had felt.
Then, the relationship had turned into a nightmare. One night, Brad had instructed him to get on his knees and bend over. Brad had rubbed some lubricant on his hole and had begun playing with him back there. It had made him uncomfortable at first, but he had finally gotten into it.
Suddenly, Brad had mounted him and begun putting his big cock inside of him. It had felt as if he were being torn apart.
"Stop it, Brad!" Sparks had pleaded as tears spilled down his face. "You're hurting me! You're hurting me bad!"
"I've wanted to get you like this for a real long time," Brad had told him, steadily pushing his way in. When he had buried himself in Sparks, he had begun thrusting hard into him.
Suddenly, Brad's cock had angled downward and struck a spot inside him, sending intense pain all through his lower parts. Sparks had remembered screaming. Brad had only thrust into him faster and harder, striking that spot inside him with every thrust. Finally, he had passed out.
He had become aware of somebody shaking him. "Hurry up and get dressed. We've got to get back," Brad had ordered.
Sparks had sat up. A wave of nausea and light-headedness had washed over him. "I-I can't. I-I'm sick. You-you hurt me bad," he had finally managed.
"Don't be such a pussy. You'll get used to it," Brad had growled.
The hell I will, Sparks had raged silently.
Two nights later, Brad had tried to force Sparks to let him take him in the ass again, but Sparks had kicked him in the groin and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing hard. "You even think about putting anything in my ass, and you'll be sorry," he had promised.
Shortly after that, Brad had been caught trying to force one of the girls to give him a blowjob. He had been sent away, but Sparks had never heard where he had been sent to.
That spring, Stanley and Joyce Benton had talked to him several times with a view to adopting him. He had gone to live with them a few weeks later. Although he had been well-treated and fairly disciplined when the Bentons had thought it necessary, they had never adopted him.
A familiar voice brought Sparks back to the present. "Did you stay at the orphans' home until you were eighteen?" asked Sharkey.
"A few weeks later, I went to live with the Bentons. I was hoping they'd adopt me, but they never did. When I graduated from high school and went away to the University of Oregon, I stopped hearing from them." Tears welled up in his eyes. He quickly wiped them away, hoping Sharkey had not seen.
"Mrs. Benton became pregnant with twins in my junior year of high school, and my foster dad's mother moved in with us a little after that. I guess they just didn't have time for me or need me any more."
"I can't believe they'd just discard you like that. Surely, there was something else going on."
Sometimes, people just don't want you around anymore. I don't guess they have to have a reason, Sparks thought as his eyes burned. "Well, I graduated and found a home in the Navy; after that, aboard Seaview," he said with studied casualness.
"What about when you got married?" Sharkey said. "That had to be tough when your home broke up. You strike me as a very solid, stable fellow. I don't understand how women think sometimes."
Sparks grunted. "Janet and I had a boy and a girl. Then, she found some well-to-do fellow that she thought could do more for her, so she left for Florida with him. Then, I met Sue. We didn't have any children, but she had two by her first husband. They were cute, sweet little kids." I miss those little kids even more than I miss Sue, thought Sparks as his throat tightened.
Sharkey drank the last swallow from his bottle of beer, then walked into the kitchen and came back with another. Sparks looked at the end table. There were three empty bottles on it.
When did Francis drink that many beers? wondered Sparks. I thought he'd just had one and was starting his second. Oh, hell. Who's counting right now?
"Women! All they are is a shitload of problems," Sharkey said, his expression hard with anger. Then, his face relaxed a trifle. "After that last divorce, I decided I don't need one around, screwing up my life."
"You can say that again," Sparks said. Suddenly, a sense of incompleteness came over him, making him feel even sadder. "But I wish I could find someone to really care about me and want me around."
"Me, too," Sharkey agreed.
Sparks' eyes me Sharkey's; their gaze held. Suddenly, feelings that had been buried for many years began to stir as he continued to stare into Sharkey's warm brown eyes. For an instant, Sparks wondered what it would be like to cover Sharkey's thin, serious lips with his wide, sensuous mouth and pull Sharkey against him. My God! I haven't felt that way about another man since college. I knew it could endanger my Navy career, so I was determined not to have feelings like that. I dated women and married twice. I thought those feelings were just a phase I went through when I was younger. Besides, Sharkey might not be open to such an idea.
There was only one thing he could do to avoid humiliating himself, losing one of his few really close friends, and maybe his career. Sparks pulled his car keys from his pocket and stood, swaying as the room began to spin. "I've got to go," he said, walking slowly toward the door.
TBC