Bottoms Up

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Norfolk, VA

WHEN THE PLANE finally landed at Norfolk, Chris was more than happy to once again have his feet firmly planted on terra firma. He’d been on a different plane for each of the three hops he’d made across the country. Military transport planes offered little, if anything, in the way of amenities, or for that matter, comfort, so what little sleep he’d gotten was, at best, fitful. When he arrived at the entrance to the base, he called his old college roommate, Mickey O’Donovan, to let him know he’d landed.

“Chris, glad you’re finally here,” Mickey’s familiar voice said. “I’ve been juggling my schedule at the bank ever since I got your call the other day, and I’m happy to report that I have two whole days freed up.”

“That’s great, Mickey. How far are you from the base?”

“Fifteen, twenty minutes tops, buddy. Are you at the main gate?”

“You bet.”

“See you in a few, then.”

“How’s Mabel?” Chris said.

“You can see for yourself in a few minutes, buddy. I retrieved her from storage a couple of days ago, and I’ll be driving her.”

“Great.”

Other than getting screwed as often as possible, Chris had one indulgence in his life—a vintage Mustang he’d affectionately named ‘Mabel’. He’d spent countless months working on Mabel in his spare time: rebuilding her engine; repairing dented fenders; restoring her interior; and giving her several coats of what Ford had grandly termed ‘Presidential Blue’ lacquer back in 1968 when she’d rolled off the assembly line. The end result was that she looked as though she’d just been driven off the showroom floor. He’d entrusted her care to Mickey when he’d shipped out for his first overseas tour, knowing Mickey would treat her with the kid gloves she deserved. When Mickey’s job with First Bank and Trust had required a move from the West Coast to Norfolk, he’d towed Mabel behind his own car and stowed a great deal of his clothing and personal belongings in her during the trip. Then, with Chris’ consent, he’d put her in storage.

Chris glanced at his watch, and fifteen minutes later he stepped outside and looked down the road. A couple of minutes later, a familiar dark blue car slowed and then stopped in front of where he was standing.

Mickey hopped out of the car and said, “Want to drive her?”

“I’m too tired from being in the air for what feels like days to appreciate the experience right now.”

“Your wish, my command,” Mickey said.

Chris opened the passenger door, put his duffel bag in back, and settled down in the comfortable bucket seat.

“She smells good,” he said.

“You bet your ass she does. I had her thoroughly detailed yesterday.”

“I thank you, and I’m sure Mabel appreciates it.”

That drew a laugh from Mickey, who said, “How are you, buddy?”

“Tired, pissed off at the f*****g Navy—you name it.”

“Pissed off?”

“I was perfectly happy where I was, and had no desire to go to NAS Jax, but Uncle Sam doesn’t ask you where you want to go—he simply tells you.”

“I tried to warn you about that before you enlisted, my friend.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to join the Navy and see the world. Besides, being a noncommissioned officer isn’t such a bad thing, and that’s not counting the availability of all those horny men on board ship. Anyway, I’m not looking forward to living in the South.”

“Don’t be so down on Jacksonville, my friend. There are a lot more men on that big base than there are on a carrier, along with several thousand civilian employees. And there’s a thriving gay community in the city… they even have a bathhouse.”

“No s**t?”

“No s**t. It’s been there since forever. In fact, I think it was once part of the original club baths chain back in the sixties and seventies. And get this: it’s right across the street from a big Southern Baptist Church.”

You’re kidding!”

“I s**t you not. Those Baptists can climb up in the belfry of their church with binoculars in hand, and see what’s happening on the nude sundeck on the roof of the baths.”

“Wow! Wait a minute, how do you know all this stuff? You’ve never lived in Florida, let alone Jacksonville.”

“No, but I had a f**k buddy for a few months who’d lived there a couple of years ago, and he gave me the lowdown on all things gay in that city.”

Fifteen minutes later, Mickey stopped to enter numbers in a keypad.

“I never pegged you as a guy who’d live in a gated community,” Chris said.

“It’s not gated in the sense that there’s a security guard. Besides, I got the deal of a lifetime on this condo and couldn’t say no.”

“I never pegged you as a condo dweller, either.”

“There’s a first time for everything, buddy. It has a master suite, and you’ll enjoy the en suite guest room with a stall shower instead of a bathtub.”

“Guest room! Since when do I get relegated to a guest room by you, of all people?”

“I wasn’t sure how things stood, buddy, and you’re more than welcome to share my king-size bed.”

“That’s more like it,” Chris said. “Besides, after sharing sleeping quarters with twenty or more of my closest friends for the better part of the last six months, I’m not at all certain that I’m ready to sleep alone.”

Mickey drove a couple of blocks and pulled into a two-car garage.

“This place looks more like a town house than a condo,” Chris said.

“That’s because it’s laid out like a typical town house—one floor on top of the other, and there’s a well-insulated party wall on each side—but it’s a condo.”

“Lead on.”

Mickey led Chris from the garage into the first floor of the house, then upstairs, where he pointed at the nearest door.

“Master suite is right through that door.”

“Good. I’m more than ready for a shower.”

“Everything you need is in the bathroom.”

“Thanks, Mick.”

Chris set his duffel bag on the floor and stripped. Then he retrieved his shaving kit and headed for the bathroom, where he shaved before doing anything else. After that he stepped into the large stall shower and was enjoying the spray of hot water when the shower door opened and Mickey joined him.

“Just like old times,” Mickey said.

“Yeah,” Chris said.

“How are you really, buddy? Any problems?”

“None at all. You don’t know how glad I am to see you, Mickey.”

“We’ve talked on the phone occasionally, and we’ve e-mailed back and forth every day or two.”

“I know, but all of the above are a poor substitute for your warm and extremely friendly body in my arms.”

Mickey hugged him tightly as they kissed and their bodies began to respond.

“Like you said, just like old times, right?” Chris said.

“Ready to take this to the next level?”

“You bet.”

They stepped from the shower and began to towel themselves dry in front of the huge vanity mirror.

“Look at you,” Mickey said. “You haven’t gained an ounce since the last time I saw you. Heck, you haven’t gained an ounce since college, as far as I can tell. Your body is just as fit and trim as it ever was.”

“That’s me: five feet ten inches of solid something or other. I wish I could say the same about you, old friend. From the look of you, I’d say you’ve been spending entirely too much time riding a desk. You may have a couple of inches in height on me, but you’re carrying more weight than you once did, and it shows.”

“Unfortunately, most of the exercise I get these days is from jumping to conclusions.”

“Any good places to run around here?”

“You bet,” Mickey said.

“Good. I’ll see if I can’t run some of this off you while I’m here.” Chris demonstrated by squeezing the beginnings of love handles.

“You’re on. Meanwhile, I think the bed is calling.”

“Definitely.”

Later they sat on the second-floor porch, drinks in hand, wearing only boxers.

“This is nice and secluded,” Chris said.

“Isn’t it? I think it’s my favorite place in the house, and the fact that the porch looks out onto a tidal marsh makes it that much better.”

“Yeah, no people across the way staring back at you, right?”

“You said it. What would you like to do for dinner?”

“Nothing special. My body clock is still dealing with having just crossed several time zones.”

“How about a chicken Caesar salad?” Mickey said.

“Sounds good—and healthy, which is just what you need, my friend.”

Mickey ignored the jibe and said, “I know just the place.”

“Are you in a hurry?”

“Not at all, why?”

“Because I’m quite comfortable at the moment. It’s really nice just being here with you after all those months.”

“Yeah, me too, now that you mention it.”

CHRIS WOUND UP spending the better part of two weeks with Mickey, and he saw to it that they ran every morning. By the time Chris left, Mickey was beginning to show some results from the running.