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  Tommy was a missile instructor, and a student in some of Eric’s university classes. Eric found Tommy attractive from the first moment their eyes met in class. Tommy was a twenty-seven year old married captain with two children. During periods of prolonged peace, the Air Force made pilots take ground assignments every few years for career broadening. Tommy chose a Minot missile assignment to be close to the Minnesota Iron Range, where his parents and in-laws lived. His greatest love was flying fighter jets, a fact he advertised with a briefcase sticker reading, ‘Tommy, Call Me Pilot, Johnson; Captain, USAF.’ Tommy and Eric sat next to each other in an Economics class. While Tommy muttered derogatory comments about their instructor, Eric ducked behind a stack of books to hide his snickers. They shared a mutual disdain for Minot, North Dakota, and the Air Force. Eric was shocked, then pleased to see Tommy peering up at him through the steam. Not certain what to say, he stood speechless.

  Tommy rose, moving his hands along Eric’s torso. When his face came within a few inches of Eric’s, he asked, “Did you enjoy that?”

  “Yes,” Eric murmured.

  “My wife and kids are gone for the weekend. We can fool around as long as we like at my house. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Eric agreed meekly.

  They showered and dressed wordlessly. As they left the gym, Tommy hollered over his shoulder, “Just follow me.”

  Eric nodded and obeyed.

  Two hours later, Eric adjusted his pillow and propped himself up on his left elbow. “So, do you give head to every guy in the steam room?”

  “Only those who advertise their erections,” Tommy shot back.

  “Touché!” Eric grinned. “Okay, so I asked for it. What if you’d been wrong and I didn’t want sex with a man?”

  “You did,” Tommy answered smugly. “I’ve known since we met. That’s why I followed you to the gym and slipped into the steam room when you weren’t watching. You might not lisp or swish when you walk, but you’ve got H-O-M-O written all over you.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Eric scowled.

  “The too perfect way you dress,” Tommy pointed out as he shoved a few more grapes in his mouth. “Never a hair out of place. I know the signs. The wandering eyes in the locker room. The aloofness. If a man and a woman are walking down the street, you watch the man.”

  “My God!” Eric shrieked. “If I’m that obvious, everyone must know!”

  “Not really,” Tommy shrugged. “Women like the fact you’re polite and neat, and straight men have tunnel vision. They don’t notice what we’re doing; not like another faggot would. That’s how I knew you were one of us. We develop radar. You’ll see. It’s accurate about ninety-nine percent of the time.”

  Tommy handed Eric a few more grapes, then plopped the rest in his mouth. “I know what most of our fellow officers think about you and not one of them has mentioned the word fag yet.”

  Eric was intrigued. He’d often wondered what kind of impression he was making on his peers. “How do you know what they think?”

  “Not much for six guys to do but gossip when they’re stuck together for three hours driving out to the missile field. I know most of the missile officers in the wing. Seems you’ve left one of three impressions. First, most envy your talent, both at work and school. Second, you’re a mystery man. They wonder why you keep to yourself, and where you get your money. For future reference, if you want to keep a low profile, drive a car that doesn’t cost three or four times more than the cars the rest of us drive. Finally, there are a lot of guys who resent you. They think you’re arrogant. Many of the officers who take classes with us resent it when the professors rave about what a genius you are.”

  “Thanks,” Eric mumbled. It was actually far better than he had hoped. “Which group do you think is right?”

  “All three!” Tommy roared as he crawled on top of Eric and smothered him with kisses. “One thing has always puzzled me, though.”

  “Just one?” Eric grinned.

  “All right, there’s more than one, smartass!” Tommy laughed, slapping Eric’s butt playfully. “The thing that puzzles me most is when we’re discussing case studies in class. It almost seems like you’re speaking from personal experience when you describe how managers should handle certain situations. How could you possibly know how big company managers handle difficult employees, competitors, vendors, or government agencies?”

  “It’s all in the assigned reading,” Eric chuckled. “If you and the other officers weren’t so busy gossiping about me, you’d know that, too!”

  Tommy and Eric spent an exhilarating weekend together. Eric’s active imagination had already figured out most of what Tommy had actually done many times before. During breaks from passionate lovemaking, Eric quizzed Tommy about his sexual experiences with other men. Tommy described men he had picked up in local cruising spots, including guys both of them knew. Fascinated to learn about all the public places men went for anonymous sex with each other, Eric intended to limit his sexual activity to Tommy.

  “Guess you don’t want to know which parks and public restrooms are the best places to pick up men,” Tommy teased.

  “Not really,” Eric replied. “You mentioned gay bathhouses. What are they like?”

  “You have led a sheltered life!” Tommy chuckled, envying Eric’s innocence. “Most major metros have at least one gay bathhouse, but Minot’s too small to have one. They usually have a sauna, weight room, and showers, but the main attractions are the orgy pits and private cubicles. Naked men with towels cruise dark hallways looking for sex. Sometimes they partner up and go into a private cubicle, or they use one of the large, dark rooms with dozens of other guys watching or joining them. Judging by the giant bulge under the sheet that wasn't there a minute ago, I'm guessing the bathhouse concept appeals to you.”

  Eric was slightly embarrassed, but felt safe with Tommy. “I can't believe there are places like that. Have you been to a gay bathhouse?”

  “Yup,” Tommy admitted. “The big metros like New York, San Fran, LA, and Chicago have many bathhouses, each appealing to a different clientele. It’s fun for a while, but it gets tiresome.”

  “Guys having sex with random strangers is a kid-in-the-candy-store fantasy,” Eric murmured. “Those places must be real STD breeding grounds.”

  Tommy noticed Eric studying his crotch. Before Eric could ask, Tommy answered his question. “Yes, I’ve had crabs and gonorrhea, but nothing else. Got rid of the crabs with a prescription shampoo. Took two shots of penicillin to get rid of the clap. Both were long ago, so you have nothing to worry about. I’m very careful. Can’t be bringing home any hitchhikers to my wife.”

  Eric considered visiting a gay bathhouse, not so much to have sex, but because he felt a sudden urge to be with other men like himself. Stroking Tommy’s leg, Eric suggested they visit Minot’s only gay bar some night.

  “I don't think so!” Tommy squawked as he shot upright. “This is a small town. Someone could see us entering or leaving. I won't risk my career and marriage to check out a local gay bar.”

  Eric was disappointed, but understood Tommy's need to keep his sexual identity a secret.

  Tommy was stunned Eric was a virgin when they met, wondering how such an attractive man could reach age twenty-five flying solo. A few weeks after their first encounter at the gym, Eric casually mentioned he was considering the Air Force as a career.

  “Eric, you hate the military, working with nuclear weapons, living in crummy little towns, and all the other crap that goes with being a GI. Why the sudden change?”

  “How else are we going to be together?” Eric winked.

  Tommy was prepared. “Look, Eric, let’s be realistic. I really like you and I certainly enjoy what we do in bed, but I’m not going to trash my career and marriage.”

  “I’m not asking you to,” Eric replied quietly, equally prepared. “Can’t we just keep on the way we are?”

  Tommy looked away, loathing the conversation he knew they had to have
. He didn’t want to hurt Eric, but saw no way to avoid it. “The Air Force can reassign either of us on a moment’s notice, and that will eventually happen. I guarantee it! They’ve got no obligation to keep us together like a married couple.”

  Eric reflected for a moment. “Maybe we could both resign?” he suggested in a timid voice.

  Their eyes met, and the truth became painfully clear. Tommy shook his head vigorously. “I’m afraid not, Eric. You're a bright guy. You’ll fit right in with the suits outside when your time is up, but all I’ve ever wanted to do is fly fighter jets. There’s only one place a poor kid from the Iron Range gets that chance and it’s the U.S. Air Force. Besides, there’s my family. I love Jackie and the kids. Hell, I’ve loved Jackie ever since we were in junior high. I can’t give all that up. Not for any man.”

  “So what do we do?” Eric whispered.

  The wounded look in Eric’s eyes was too much for Tommy, so he glanced away. “We do what men have done for centuries. We pretend we’re straight. We laugh at all the fag jokes and tell a few of our own. We make wisecracks about women’s tits. We keep what we do behind locked doors. We live a double life and enjoy each day as it comes. That’s all we can do.”

  “That’s not enough,” Eric complained. “Don’t we deserve better?”

  “I’ve grown pretty cynical over the years,” Tommy chuckled. “I used to believe in words like fair and deserve and equality. They’re just words, Eric. We take what we get, and it has very little to do with right or wrong or fair.”

  Eric shook his head, refusing to accept Tommy’s cynical view of the world.

  “Look, Eric,” Tommy said softly, “I’ve seen things that’ll keep me in the closet forever.”

  “Like what?” Eric asked.

  “When I was in flight school to become a pilot,” Tommy explained, “one of the guys in my class told us another guy grabbed his dick in the shower. We were having lunch at the time, and there were six of us at the table. A couple guys suggested we have a blanket party that night.”

  “What’s a blanket party?” Eric asked.

  “It’s a form of hazing,” Tommy replied, surprised Eric wasn’t familiar with the term. “A bunch of guys cover another guy with a blanket, then beat him with socks filled with soap bars. It’s supposed to hurt without doing any real damage. A not so subtle way of punishing bad behavior. They asked me to join the blanket party that night, but I had flight training, so I couldn’t participate. When I returned to my quarters the next morning, I learned the guy they gave the blanket party was found at the bottom of a staircase with his neck broken. Guess the boys got a little carried away. It was ruled an accidental death. That’s when I decided none of my fellow officers would ever even suspect I like to have another man’s cock inside me.”

  “I can see why,” Eric murmured.

  “I don’t care how open-minded the world outside the military is getting,” Tommy insisted. “In here, our fellow officers have no use for queers. Doesn’t matter what the President, Congress, or Supreme Court say. These guys will never change. Once they find out we’re queer, we’re as good as dead unless we resign before they get to us.”

  Eric resented keeping their relationship secret, but he liked Tommy so much he was willing to do anything to be with him. As often as possible, Tommy suggested his wife and kids take a few days to see her parents. To avoid suspicion, Tommy stayed at Eric’s apartment while his family was away. Tommy lied frequently, telling his wife he was studying at the university library when he was really in bed with Eric.

  Still not satisfied with the frequency of their encounters, Tommy arranged to be Eric’s crew partner, which meant being together five times a month for seventy-two hours at a stretch. They were by themselves behind a twelve-ton steel door, fifty-five feet below ground in a concrete missile command center. No gay couple ever had a safer closet.

  They became close friends as well as lovers. They worked out and studied together. Tommy gave Eric flying lessons in a small rented Cessna. Eric taught Tommy how to play tennis and use a computer for more than video games. Tommy admired Eric’s steel-trap mind. When they discussed economics, finance, or management issues, Eric was the teacher, and Tommy the student.

  Eric was infatuated with Tommy's strawberry hair, fair skin, and Nordic features. Even though they were approximately the same height and weight, Tommy was more muscular. They frequently ended their workouts with a wrestling match. Initially Tommy's strength and experience gave him the advantage, but Eric's speed and cunning eventually won out. Tommy teased Eric mercilessly. Secretly, Eric enjoyed the teasing, recognizing it as a sign of affection. It was the kind of affection he had always craved, but never experienced before.

  Only one thing about Eric made Tommy uncomfortable. No matter how intimate they became, Eric never spoke about his past. He occasionally provided vague answers to specific questions about his childhood, but never volunteered information. It annoyed Tommy when Eric ignored questions, or quickly changed the subject. The more Tommy probed, the more elusive Eric became.

  After working out and studying together one Saturday, Eric and Tommy picked up a pizza on the way to Eric's apartment. Once inside, Tommy suggested they eat in front of the fireplace. While Tommy lit a fire, Eric grabbed some chilled wine, glasses, plates, napkins, and forks.

  Fire blazing, with music in the background, a profound sense of contentment enveloped Eric. Munching a slice of sausage pizza, Eric sighed. “This is perfect. I don't think I've ever been happier, and I owe it all to you, Tommy.”

  “Thanks, Eric. I'm happy, too. Don't you ever get homesick?”

  Eric shook his head. “No home to get sick for. My parents are dead. I was an only child. My high school friends have all scattered. Wherever I am is home now.”

  “How'd your parents die, Eric?”

  “Car accident when I was twenty. They were driving home, a drunk hit them, and everyone died in the crash. I bummed around the country for a while, then enlisted in the Air Force. I was a General’s aide and he persuaded me to apply for a degree-commissioning program. After I earned my bachelor's degree, I went to Texas to pick up my commission, then was assigned here. Happy now? You've been wanting to know my bio ever since we met.”

  Tommy smiled. “Yeah, that explains a lot of things. So you bought the Porsche with the last of the family fortune?”

  “Yup, the Porsche and tonight's banquet,” Eric joked. “If you were thinking of marrying me for my money, you're just going to have to settle for my good looks and charm instead.”

  Grinning slyly, Tommy leaned over and planted a tomato sauce kiss on Eric's lips. “I’ll settle for good looks and charm tonight, but tomorrow I start my search for a guy with some real cash. Wads and wads of stinky American greenbacks. Wanna join me?”

  “Sure,” Eric grinned playfully. “Let’s find a perfectly compatible rich gay couple, like the Irish lads in my hometown, Patrick Fitzgerald and Gerald Fitzpatrick.”

  Tommy howled. “Patrick Fitzgerald and Gerald Fitzpatrick! That's hilarious! Which one do you want?”

  “Does it matter?” Eric snickered. “They’re perfectly compatible!”

  They fell silent for several minutes as they finished the pizza, then Tommy broached a sensitive subject. "I heard Jessup and Crawford are getting out this summer, right after our MBA class graduates. Have you decided whether you're taking an early-out, or staying another two years until your commitment is up?”

  “I’m not sure I qualify,” Eric replied. “When the Air Force sent me back to school to finish my degree, I agreed to a six year commitment, and I’ve only served two years.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Tommy insisted. “Uncle Sam has too many officers right now, so all commitments are being waived if you want out. This is a one-time good deal with an expiration date.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Eric promised.

  “You've got to let Colonel Jeffries know by the end of this month or the window closes and you're stuck here a
nother four years. Eric, is that what you really want?”

  Eric shrugged. “It doesn't matter to me where I live as long as I'm near you. Once we graduate, we'll have even more time to be together.”

  “And what if I get orders assigning me to Florida the week after the deadline for early-outs? You're stuck here four more years while I'm in Florida,” Tommy argued. “About the time you get out and join me in Florida, I'll probably be transferred again. Are you sure you're ready for that kind of vagabond life?”

  “Maybe I should turn in my request for an early-out just to be safe,” Eric agreed. “I can stay in this apartment until you get transferred, then move wherever your next assignment is.”

  “How will you support yourself?” Tommy asked. “There's not a big demand for recent MBAs or former missile jockeys in Minot.”

  Eric wasn’t terribly worried. “I'll find something and it doesn't have to be a job requiring an MBA. I can sell insurance, cars, or real estate. There's always tons of sales jobs.”

  “And that's why you’ve been busting your butt studying Finance and Economics?” Tommy exclaimed. “You're capable of more than selling used cars!”

  “It doesn't have to be forever!” Eric cried. “Hey, maybe you'll be assigned to a base in California near LA or San Fran. I could get a job at a big bank and make tons of money to support our secret lifestyle!”

  Tommy gazed into Eric's eyes. “For a logical guy, you can be quite a dreamer,” Tommy smiled as he stroked Eric's cheek, dreading what he knew he had to do.

  Eric considered telling Tommy why there was no reason to worry about money, but decided to wait until it was absolutely necessary.