Chapter Fourteen

Ethan

 

The first few minutes I’m awake, I don’t remember where I am. I cannot fully grasp that I’m in a hotel room in a small town an hour outside of Albuquerque. Briefly I panic, fumble around in the sheets anxious and eager to get my bearings. Get clear on why the hell I’m not at home. And then I see and feel Frederick next to me. Snuggled in my arms and against my chest like a beautiful, delicate swan.

The moment I lay eyes on his angelically-golden brown hair, the soft lines of his peaceful, sleeping face — the way his perfectly sculpted lips and nose move in the embrace of a dream — it all floods back to me.

Of how I drove to this place after agreeing to meet him for coffee. How we started making out in the café, first in the hallway, then the bathroom. Then deciding to move to a hotel— this room— and make love to each other. For hours it must have been, before falling asleep.

And now here I am. Here we are, I think, feeling both disturbed and strangely at peace with the way things have gone so far.

Gently, I stroke Frederick’s face. His lips smiling as I stare back at him. Back at my caresses. The way he sighs just seems to let all of his burdens go in one heavy breath — this makes my heart leap. Feeling protectiveness and tenderness for him so much I’m nearly overwhelmed, bringing tears to my eyes.

I know it’s crazy to think this way, but even if we end up getting in more trouble because of this — more charges brought on us because of our recent “association” — I would do it all over again. I would still agree to see him. Still agree to spend time with him, even if people misunderstood and labeled me as someone who is misusing my privilege. My powers. We would know the truth.

“At least I hope we would,” I murmur. “At least I hope we would know the truth and keep being with each other, no matter what firestorm happened.”

With these words, I rub Frederick’s exposed, muscled shoulder. His chilly skin. As I expect, this makes Frederick snuggle closer to me and curl into my touch further. For warmth— for love. If I were the one sleeping, and he was the one awake and touching me this way, I would certainly do as he is doing now. Maybe more.

I might even encourage him to have a little morning dip in me, if I were him.

Just the barest wisp of this thought is enough to get the blood pumping downstairs. Enough to make me start to expand — stiffen — underneath the sheets, though I don’t grind against him. I don’t move to make him feel it on him this early in the morning, no matter how much he may like it.

He seemed troubled last night. Tense somehow, even though he was spent and relaxed from sexual release. I wonder if night times are traumatic for him? Thinking this, my eyes move down to Frederick’s sleeping form. His relaxed and glowing face. I wonder if all of his childhood trauma — the stuff with his uncle and dad — comes back to haunt him during the night? My heart aches, moving up into my throat. All the abuse he suffered in high school and in the Navy? Is that all there waiting for him every time he goes to sleep? Maybe he lies awake fearing what sleep may bring?

If he does, my mind is quickly drawn away from these thoughts by Frederick’s arms wrapping around my arms and waist. Frederick moans happily. Lazily.

“I don’t want you to leave me, Captain,” he murmurs. “I wish we could stay like this forever and ever.”

I chuckle, leaning down and over to kiss him. “So you are awake,” I say.

“Define ‘awake’,” he winces, snuggling into me even more.

“Talking to me with that much sense,” I say, giving him another kiss. This one on his lips and the other on his nose. “That much continuity must mean you’re awake.”

“Yeah, but this feels like a dream,” he says. “I don’t want to wake up. Not yet.”

I’m struck by the power of this statement. This really does feel like a dream. Like a fantasy made reality, and in this moment, I too don’t want this to end. Don’t want to have to get up and go on with my day, my routine. But I have to, we have to.

We can’t stay here all day, as much as I would like to.

“I don’t want to have to end this time with you either, Frederick,” I say, giving him another kiss on his lips. This one is deeper, more prolonged. “I don’t want to leave you. I want to spend all day with you, but we can’t do that. We have lives we both have to get back to.” With this, I get out of bed and head for the shower.

Frederick rolls over, burying his face into the mattress. He groans, like a kid not ready to get up for school.

“I love when you’re so responsible, so reliable,” he huffs, “but right now, I hate it.”

“That makes two of us, Frederick.” I move into the bathroom and get the water ready for my shower. As I wait for the water to come up to temp, my mind goes back to my life outside this hotel room. The fact that I have a legal case. Charges placed on me, thanks to Frederick.

I climb into the shower, initially surprised by how hot the water is. I turn it down some, but not a lot. I’m going to have to talk to him about it. I hate to. I know he doesn’t want to, but I have to talk to him about the case. The charges. Why and how they came to be. Do they have anything to do with Captain Stern, like my lawyer and her husband think they do? If anyone knows it’s him?

Grabbing a bar of soap, I cling onto the hope that Frederick doesn’t hate me too much. That he doesn’t feel like I’m betraying him by asking him such a question or bringing any of this up. Especially after our night.

Come what may, I suppose. It will have to be sorted out before I leave if we ever have any hopes of extending our relationship beyond this. Beyond our secret meetings.

 

***

By the time I’m out of the shower and dried, Frederick’s already dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed with his hands folded loosely on his lap. The way he’s looking at me, it’s as if he knows what I’ve had on my mind. What I’ve been debating whether or not to discuss with him — the case. These charges.

But it has to be done. I start in on this difficult conversation as I begin to dress in my polo shirt and khakis from the day before.

“I need to know the truth Frederick. I need to know why and how those charges came about.”

Frederick sighs, seemingly annoyed. He sounds as if he’s 18, not 28.

“I told you it was an accident. It was from a stupid therapy session. I had a repressed memory, and I thought it was you who abused me, so I blabbed it out before I realized what had happened.” He pauses.

“I’m sorry for it, I wish it didn’t happen. I wish that therapist would have her license revoked for all that went down, but there’s nothing I can do.”

“I know that, Frederick,” I say bending over to get my feet into the pant leg, and pull the khakis up over my hips and button and zip them.

“But I want to know something else. And I want you to be honest about it.” I turn toward him, my shirt still off, revealing my chest hairs.

“Does any of this have to do with Captain Stern? Any of these charges you brought against me?” I’m not meaning to, but I know that my eyes are cold. Stern even.

Frederick seems intimidated and embarrassed, but surprisingly, doesn’t hold back. He doesn’t drag his feet when answering me.

“Yes, he has something to do with it. He’s been threatening me, saying he’ll destroy my reputation and my career as a SEAL. He’s done more than that, but…” He shakes his head, paling slightly.

“But I can’t say anything about that now.” He lets out a shaky breath. It quivers down his whole body, making me want to do nothing more than hold him tightly. To protect him from everyone and everything in the world.

“But I know my life is going to be in danger if his name ever gets out… any connection ever is made with him.” He closes his eyes, clenching his jaw before looking at me. It’s just as I put on my polo shirt, and straighten it against my chest and stomach.

“I don’t want to get you involved any further than I already have, Captain.”

Hearing this, a sudden wave of irritation — anger — hits me.

“Good. Because I don’t want to exit my Navy career in a year or sooner with a reputation that is tarnished. If these charges go to court and reach that conclusion, I could be dishonorably discharged before I even reach retirement.”

Frederick flinches at this. Cowers slightly, and I feel terrible for what I’ve said.

“If I could find a way to make those charges go away, I would,” he says. I hate the desperation in his voice, but I also want him to do something. Something more than just feel sorry and tell me how much he wishes things were different.

“You need to figure something out, Frederick,” I say, surprised and ashamed by my harshness towards him. Unfortunately though, it looks like Frederick is used to this kind of treatment from his lovers. From his “fuck buddies” as I guess this generation would call them.

“I’ll try, but didn’t you hear the part where I said my life was at risk?” Now Frederick sounds angry in addition to upset. And this just irritates me more.

“Is your reputation worth more than my actual life?” He stares at me, standing up from the bed. “Think about that before you answer, Captain.”

I hate to admit it, but I’m irritated about how much he’s worried for himself… only thinking of himself, when I’m the one with a 30+ year career in the Navy about to be decimated with his charges. The ones he “accidentally” brought against me because of some therapist or other.

“I understand your predicament Frederick, but I can’t be with someone who doesn’t care about what I stand to lose, too.” I frown, and he frowns back. “I can’t be with someone who isn’t loyal to me or ready to fight for the life and recognition I stand to lose because of some stupid choices.”

If Frederick has any choice words for me, I don’t stick around to hear them. I leave the hotel room and head for my car.

As I pass by the reception desk, I say that I’d like to book the room for a little longer. If anything, Frederick should have the ability to stay there in safety before he’s forced back to base.