Happy Pride Month!

Uncensored version found at: *AO3*/works/31047788/chapters/78669907

TRIGGER WARNING! Some suggestive content.

Cullen was gabbling.

"…So, the first island chain extends between Japan, Taiwan, the Philippines, and the southern end of the South China Sea, effectively blocking the Chinese ability to extend their naval reach beyond its shores. The second island chain is–"

A sharp sigh cut him off.

Purposelessly rolling his fork in the plate of carbonara half gone and holding up his chin by the palm of his left hand, Tharin began to speak, "I think I'll call it a night now."

With his gaze fixed at his food, the young man continued, "Don't get me wrong. You're cute and all, but… You've just been… So. Boring." Wait, did he say, "You've just been so boring" or "It's just been so boring?"

As Tharin stood up to leave, he left these parting words, "For future reference, please don't talk about naval geopolitics for over an hour on a first date. Okay?"

Those were the same words he had heard so many times in his mind. But they were originally from Ellana Lavellan, the last woman he'd dated, not Tharin.

Oh, I'm having a nightmare again, Cullen realized. A nightmare, the terror of which evaporated presently as soon as he realized none of it was real.

He slid out of slumber calmly and quietly. There was no jolting himself awake or yelling to chase the bad dreams away. He opened his eyes and found himself securely lodged under his top sheet.

He checked his phone. It was just before 0445. Early, but close enough to his usual wakeup time that he knew there was no hope of falling back asleep. So, with his hands gathered behind his head, he gazed up at the ceiling and let his thoughts wander around.

Boring. That's what those two girls he went out on dates called him. And they were right. In an effort to seem like an outgoing, intelligent, and interesting person, he spent the majority of both dates blathering on about some fact he was obsessed about at the moment. If he were not so nervous, he would have been content to listen to his date talk, but that was not to be. He was young and dumb.

Cullen felt stupid for dwelling on two incidents from long ago like this, though he understandably couldn't help himself. The parallels were striking to him. In both instances, he was the one who pursued those women. Just like how he pursued Tharin now.

He liked the girls quite a lot. Sporty, funny, and whip-smart, they were the type of college girls who could befriend anyone and who everyone liked. Just like Tharin.

Because they were such friendly extroverts, being called boring by those two women left a deep scratch on Cullen's self-esteem. So, he had to know. Never mind that his dwelling on the issue actually dragged him down further, he had to find out how Tharin thought of him.

But not today. Perhaps one day, he would get the nerve to ask the young man. Maybe.

True to his word, Cullen could not get away from the base until the fireworks show. There was an offshore training exercise scheduled that occupied many July days, and his work constantly kept him busy until the evening hours.

But at night, the two men chatted both by texts and video calls. The conversations flowed easily, and neither seemed to run out of topics to bring up. It was enough to convince Cullen that what happened on their first date was due to jitters. The disjointed communication was an anomaly, not the norm.

It wasn't exactly that they were having deep, soul-searching conversations. Those, the kinds that would have their hearts resonate in synchronicity, must be saved for in-person dates.

And no doubt those dates would be filled with a passionate fire that could melt steel with its ferocity, the sort that often brought out the animal within the most stoic of people. In fact, Cullen had pleasured himself many a time thinking of their first real kiss at the beach, of how Tharin looked in those wet clothes.

But their day-to-day interactions based on texts and video calls were relaxed affairs that had a calming effect on Cullen's fears about the durability of their relationship. It became easier to ignore the whispers of his own insecurities.

Talking to Tharin every night was like sitting in front of a cozy, amiable campfire, wrapped up in a goose-down blanket, relishing in the coldness of the night while staying warm. And like watching a campfire dance, Cullen always felt enthralled by the young man's countenance and voice whenever they were on a call.

The young man may be spontaneous and unpredictable, but these characteristics did not extend to his attitude toward their relationship. Indeed, he seemed to exhibit infinite patience in regard to it.

And it was mostly Cullen's fault that they were taking everything so slowly. Partly because of his military career that constantly kept him away from the homeport and partly because of his manifold anxieties about dating. Cullen knew all of this. And in all likelihood, so did Tharin.

Thus, he was content to revel in the daily chats about prosaic things, like what they had for lunch that day or some random funny observations each made about his colleagues. Anyway, to be able to talk to Tharin regularly was far more than he had hoped for.

Even though Cullen had a hard time being the one to cut their chats short, he was disciplined and still kept to his bedtime at 2330. And as they bade goodnight, Tharin would text some sweet words without fail. One of these texts read: I wish I could spend this much time with you in person too. 10 pm is too early for you to have to go back to the base. It made Cullen pause.

Cullen was always fastidious about following the rules. And he had thought himself fairly clever for managing to strike a delicate balance between keeping the Navy's rules and dating Tharin.

But the need to spend more time with Tharin became a tremendous motivator for him to explore ways to fully utilize time away from the base. After some consideration, he came to a natural conclusion that lengthening the time away from the base was more important than trying to cram in more activities within the given time.

The most obvious way to lengthen liberty was to finally land himself a regular liberty buddy. By leaving the base with a liberty buddy, the curfew would extend to 0100 rather than 2200. Of course, the rule was that he had to have his liberty buddy next to him after 2200, but still.

So long as his liberty buddy were to remain in close proximity so that they could join up without a hitch at 2200, it would give him at least two more hours to be with Tharin. Time that would have been spent in transit back to the base.

Thom Rainier was one of the closer associates Cullen had on the USS McKee. He was a Machinist's Mate Third Class, a rate below Cullen. But they were stationed in Japan around the same time and went through the orientation program at the Reagan Ranch together. So, they were well-acquainted, if not exactly friendly.

Thom was rumored to be a stickler for rules also. And he was the stereotypical strong, silent type. A few times Cullen had run into Thom at a mess hall or a fast-food place, he never saw him talk to anyone. So, he would not question Cullen's motive for venturing out of the base or spill the beans about his extracurricular activities.

Best of all, they weren't all that friendly. Actually, Thom Rainier seemed to relish in his own company, the way Cullen used to before Tharin entered his life. That interpersonal distance between them would ensure that Thom would not be nosy.

In short, Thom Rainier was perfect liberty buddy material for a man like Cullen who valued his privacy. He just hadn't been claimed due to his overt lack of social skills and reticence.

Thom seemed to be genuinely surprised when Cullen came up to him at a mess hall. They had not talked to each other for a couple months by that point.

But it wasn't hard to convince Thom to be his liberty buddy. Thom mentioned how he had been meaning to start exploring outside the base as well, and Cullen's asking him was like a kick in the pants for him to finally do rather than think.

And so, they forged a pact. They would be each other's liberty buddy, allowing both men to stay off base until 0100 during liberty.

It was finally the last Saturday of July, the day he was supposed to meet Tharin for the fireworks show at the Sumida riverfront.

The show was supposed to start at 1900 and conclude at 2030. They were going to watch the fireworks from the temple grounds of Sensō-ji, which was a secret spot according to Tharin. The temple was far away from the waters of the Sumida River, where the fireworks would be set off, so people did not think of it as a good spot to watch. But it was. According to Tharin.

Before that, they would take care of dinner at varied food stalls that dotted the Asakusa neighborhood. And then Cullen would meet up with Thom at Shimbashi Station at 2200.

Even though all three men would take the Yokosuka Line heading south from Shimbashi, Cullen decided it would be prudent not to have Thom run into Tharin for now. Part of him felt guilty, as though he were forcing Tharin to go back into the closet. So, he daren't tell Tharin of his plan, which was to encourage the young man to head home at least a train before he did.

It wasn't much of a plan. More of a wishful thinking. But Cullen's brain, somewhat slow to fully comprehend social intricacies and ramifications of his actions, approved of this scheme that was haphazardly thrown together at the last minute.

And Cullen did not recognize this. The scheme would forge ahead.

On the Friday before the fireworks show, Tharin asked Cullen to stop by his apartment before heading into Tokyo proper. He added specifically that Cullen must come by early in the afternoon, around 1400.

Though he sounded mysteriously vague as he extended an invitation to his abode. He mentioned some sort of a surprise that would be waiting for him. Additionally, he mentioned the teacup Cullen purchased on their trip to Enoshima as a reason to make a detour.

"Plus, you forgot to take your teacup! You have to come by to pick it up."

Cullen did not want to presume and make an ass of himself, but he also did not want to be caught unawares. What if the surprise Tharin mentioned was that he wanted to have sex? What if… Tharin wanted to top?

So, Cullen prepared himself as thoroughly as possible on the day of. And instead of well-worn military briefs, he put on the most expensive, the least worn underwear in his arsenal: Calvin Klein red hip briefs. He even fished out a cologne from the back of his desk drawer, long forgotten, and spritzed himself a couple times.

Not that his efforts paid off in any significant way.

Japan at the end of the rainy season and in the midst of the final month of summer was hot. There was no other way to describe it. Temperature regularly spiked to 90℉ in the afternoon, sometimes heading to the upper end of the 90s, and the humidity was enough to turn anyone into a sweaty mess within five minutes of stepping outside.

As Cullen walked through the base with Thom Rainier to get to the local bus stop, he silently hoped that Tharin was into musky men. Because after an hour of hauling himself across the sun-soaked cityscape, he was going to be musky with an underlayer of a cheap cologne and his usual deodorant.

As they had done before, Tharin met Cullen in the main hall of the drab Shin-Kawasaki Station. The two men were both early. It was 1352.

And predictably, the young man led Cullen into one of the champagne-pink apartment complexes they passed by on their way to Kumiko's izakaya. It was the middle one out of the three.

Both men were tense as they waited for the elevator to take them to the third floor. It was palpable enough that even Cullen could pick up on it.

On the third floor, they turned right and walked to the far end of the corridor. There was a metal front door waiting for them.

"This is my place," informed Tharin as he inserted the key to the door. Cullen was sure that there was a tiniest tremor in the young man's voice but didn't think much of it.

Until they were inside.

As soon as Cullen passed through and Tharin shut the door behind him, he nearly tackled Cullen and began to kiss. In Tharin's tiny studio apartment, they kissed like their very lives depended on it.

The two men took off their shoes with their toes and left them behind in a jumble. They then ventured further into the unit, crashing along the walls. They narrowly avoided the bathroom door and the floor-length mirror to their left, careening toward the bed on the far-left side of the room. The kitchenette was across the bathroom and a desk stood across the bed on the right side of the studio.

They finally found a big enough spot to stand on in a little nook between the bed and a built-in studio closet that revealed itself only as they turned the corner.

Their desires consumed their entire existence like a ferocious flame. Their lips parted, and their tongues fused together like cream and flowing chocolate, forming a luscious treat for two.

But the momentary tenderness brought on by the kiss belied the somatic energy coursing through them. They began to wrestle each other while standing. Two muscle-bound gods struggling for dominance, out of breath and out of their minds. In spite of the air conditioner, their faces were bejeweled with beads of sweat. Finally, Cullen, with his years of combat training, prevailed upon Tharin and pushed the young man against the small stretch of the flimsy wall next to the closet.

Cullen growled like an angered beast, "This is what you wanted, is it?"

Taking advantage of Cullen slightly loosening his grip on him, Tharin pushed back. Cullen lost his footing and fell onto the unmade bed behind him. The mattress groaned in protest. It was old, he could tell.

Tharin straddled Cullen and stared down at the man with his cobalt eyes on fire. He whispered, "No, this is what I wanted," and smiled that ridiculously handsome smile that could bid Cullen to do anything he desired.

The young man dove down, once again immersing Cullen in a delectable osculation. It was as though Cullen were being traced, pursued, and hunted until he was no longer willing or able to evade capture. In fact, he was glad to be captured, to be bound by Tharin. The excitement of the kiss was almost enough to make him climax.

Of course, this was only the beginning. The young man began to unbutton Cullen's salmon-pink linen shirt. One by one, as the buttons gave way to his bare skin, Cullen's heartbeat correspondingly sped up. With the last one left buttoned for the sake of jest, Tharin's left hand began to rove across Cullen's torso, lingering at his nipples.

A stray thought entered Cullen's concupiscent mind, wondering whether Tharin liked body hair and if he should have shaved his chest too in anticipation of today.

With his lips mere inches away from Cullen's, Tharin susurrated, "Cul, I like you. So much."

Cullen responded, barely holding back from tumbling and wrestling, "I like you too, Tharin. More than you know."

As if to not concede control, the young man kept his lips close and whispered, "And I'm gonna make you feel good." His right hand glided down toward the middle of Cullen's khakis.

The young man slid down, now expertly unzipping Cullen's pants.

Suddenly, Tharin looked up and smirked, "I've seen Calvin Kleins before. Was kind of hoping for something military."

"Oh…" Cullen felt like he had disappointed the young man. His face flushed even more.

Tharin laughed not unkindly, allaying his fears. "But you look sexy in these too. You look sexy in anything you wear."

I could use more positive reinforcements in my life, Cullen thought. So, he swallowed roughly and asked, "You… think I'm sexy?"

With earnest eyes that fairly contrasted the upturned lips, the young man countered, "You are ridiculously handsome. And I will tell you that as many times as you want."

Cullen felt a foolish grin bleeding onto his face. Tharin, the dictionary definition of beautiful, was telling him that he was handsome. "You think I'm handsome."

"Cul, you're so handsome and attractive, I couldn't believe you were single when you first told me."

But Cullen, like a reprobate craving candy and chocolate after Halloween, wanted more. He wanted the young man to confirm that he was not tedious. He wanted to be liked for everything that he was. And his desire to confirm overcame the frayed nerves. "And… you don't think…um… I'm dull, do you?"

With his right hand traveling downward, Tharin furrowed his brow and asked, "What kind of question is that?"

"I've been told that… I'm boring."

"Well, you might be boring," Tharin chuckled, "but you're my kind of boring."

Despite himself, Cullen burst out laughing. He groused playfully, still gasping from the laughter, "What kind of answer is that?"

"It means you're interesting to me. That's all," responded the young man intensely.

Finally satisfied, Cullen laid back as Tharin pleasured him.

After the orgasmic high, the two men finally separated.

Still on his stomach, Tharin said with a wonder in his tone, "I'll fight anyone who says you're boring… Wow…"

Cullen snorted. "You'll have to fight at least a couple women I'd gone out on dates with." And at least three or four men and women from his college days, who almost certainly would have called him out on his tediousness if he had ever let things naturally develop into something more than regular booty calls.

But Tharin found him not only handsome, but also exciting. And that was all that mattered.

"You are… a sex god," declared the young man with seriousness of a person announcing the winner of a competition of some sort. Maybe the Kentucky Derby.

Cullen could not contain the pure mirth bubbling up inside him. He let his body shake with laughter and replied, "That's a dorky thing to say, but you ain't too shabby yourself."

As Cullen succumbed to that contented yet overwhelming fatigue experienced by all men after an intercourse as intense as this, he closed his eyes and began to ponder quietly. He honestly could not remember the last time he had a proper sex with someone. For years, sexual release was something to get through, a masturbatory chore that was completed in the darkness of his bedroom or enfolded within the white noise of water droplets hitting the wall in his shower.

The masturbatory chore used to be carried out quickly and promptly, so that he could hold his primal nature in check as he morphed himself into someone the U.S. Navy could trust, someone who could be useful to the institution he called home. Things continued like this until he met Tharin.

Cullen was an introspective soul by nature. He thrived in deep introspection. Despite the hectic, regimented life in the Navy, he would often think about what he wanted out of his life and examine if he was on the right path. And until he met Tharin, he found his life to be adequate, if not perfect.

But dating Tharin was a shock to the system. With the young man at his side, Cullen suddenly began to spot things in his life that could be better, that should be more than just adequate.

Sexual self-expression, previously confined to periodic masturbations, was one of the things he found wanting. Cullen realized that he need not view his sexuality as a pesky chore, something to hide from everyone. No need to be careful and guarded about his desires around Tharin. He could explore himself without letting the maze of mundanity and the rigid social rules of the Navy hinder him.

Not to say that the Navy had somehow rendered him into a false version of Cullen Rutherford. It had shaped him into the professionally successful and generally happy, albeit lonely, man he was today.

Yet Cullen could not deny that there was a little side of him that felt nostalgic. Nostalgic for the carefree college days, when introspection was not only encouraged, but also a duty, and he was able to explore what happiness meant for him without constantly censoring himself.

Cullen would remind himself that those carefree days would have never lasted even if he did not join the Navy. Graduation and the responsibilities of adulthood were not avoidable, especially when one did not have parents to fall back on. So, he did not regret his choice to enlist. Or at least, he did not think it mattered whether he regretted it or not.

But the more time he spent with Tharin, the more apparent it became that he was happier and freer with the young man. He was made happier and freer by Tharin who could somehow resurrect Cullen of yore. And given another opportunity – no doubt bountiful in the future with Tharin –, he would once again gladly lose himself to ephemeral sensations that spoke to the instinctual need to reclaim that past.

Cullen would have invited Tharin in to shower together if the bathroom were not so miniature.

In fact, showering with his significant other was one of the things in his informal bucket list. Not to say that his relationship with Tharin had already reached that stage, but… still.

The bathroom was on a raised platform, tiles covering the floor with a drainage in a corner and no shower curtain. The shower itself had a detachable showerhead. Next to the tub was the sink and the toilet, both small, at least for a man as large as Tharin.

This was his first time using a Japanese bathroom, and it felt awkward to be standing outside the tub washing himself. It was like committing a cardinal sin of wetting the carpeted floor, except there was not an inch of the floor covered by a shaggy carpet. Very much unlike American bathrooms from before the 2000s.

Cullen figured this made cleaning the bathroom that much easier. One could just apply bleach directly to the tiles, spray water everywhere with the detachable showerhead, and be done with it.

As he showered, his hazy brain decided to conjure up a random memory from their second date. With his mind filter clearly malfunctioning, Cullen shouted, "Hey! I just realized, Sera was right about one thing!"

Tharin immediately replied through the bathroom door, "Oh, yeah? What?"

With a simper, Cullen finished, "I gave you an eggplant real good, didn't I!"

Just as Cullen expected, Tharin responded with a jeer, "Booooo! Shut up and finish showering, you moron!"

Cullen bellowed cheerfully as the water flowed through the shoal, hirsute channel running between his pectorales.

Letting the ingrained habit from the Navy take over, Cullen showered quickly. Still, he was not used to a detachable showerhead, so it took longer. He was done at the five-minute mark.

After wiping down his body and wrapping the towel around his waist, he came out of the bathroom to find Tharin in his neon blue boxer briefs holding a large cardboard box. It must have been put away in an obscure place because Cullen did not remember seeing it as they entered the apartment.

Not that they could have noticed anything very well. In the heat of the moment, their sole focus was on each other.

Tharin grinned, "So… I have a surprise for you."

Running his right hand over his hair trying to slick it back and extending his left hand toward the young man, Cullen urged, "Well, come on. Give it to me." He need not admit that he was delighted by it. It must have shown, his giddiness.

After the young man handed him the box, Cullen put it on the floor and knelt in front of it. He then carefully pulled the tapes off and opened the box.

Inside was a pair of clothing wrapped in clear plastic, a pair of sashes, and two sets of sandals. Cullen looked up, mystified, "Kimono and straw flip-flops?"

Tharin's eyes glimmered. "They are yukata and geta. The kind of clothes you wear to summer festivals. I thought you and me, we could dress up for the occasion." He held up his hands and spoke in an assuaging tone, "And before you say anything else, don't worry. They weren't that expensive."

"I should still pay you for my share," announced Cullen with furrowed brows.

Tharin scooted over to Cullen's left side and playfully bumped his hip against him. "Don't you dare try. It's my gift to you."

"Still… This is too much."

The young man huffed. "I really never impulse buy, and these are it for this year. I thought you'd look really good in these."

Cullen had never received a present from somebody he was going out with. For no good reason, he felt like he was about to choke up. So, he took a deep breath to calm his beating heart and thanked Tharin. "I… Thank you. Really appreciate it."

He gazed into the box again to examine the items. The getas were made from some sort of straws tightly weaved into rectangular bases. Underneath were soles made from some spongey material, maybe rubber. The cloth straps were black and thick, different from American flip-flops. All components were a muted monochromatic color, which gave off the impression of urbane sophistication.

And then he turned his attention to the sashes and the yukatas. The sashes were made from a sheer material and looked white. The two yukatas had on them exactly the same design. Ebony background with silver and white lines forming rhombi here and there. Within those rhombi were four-petaled flowers, also in silver and white.

"Did you mean to get the yukatas with the exact same pattern?"

Cullen knew that the young man had been observing him looking at the items. Tharin sharply turned toward the box and exclaimed, "…Uh, what?"

Holding up the two packs of yukatas, Cullen stated the obvious. "Yeah, these are both the same."

With his mouth pulled into a tight, straight line, Tharin responded, "Crap. That's not right."

"You're one discerning shopper, you know that?" With a good-natured laugh, Cullen put the packs back and held his hand up to caress the young man's bestubbled face.

Tharin rolled his eyes. "Ha. Ha. The funny man strikes again. It's obviously the retailer's fault!"

Cullen rubbed his nose against the young man's neck fuzz and said teasingly, "You know, I don't mind if people think we're together."

Tharin was clearly not amused. He soughed and complained bitterly, "Ugh. That's not what I mind. It's just the principle of things. I'm definitely not giving them a five-star review."

Cullen kept his head perched on the young man's right shoulder. As though they had done it before many times, Tharin raised his hand to stroke Cullen's now tousled hair. He then reached into the box with his other hand and handed one of the yukata packs to Cullen. "Anyways… Try it on."

Cullen stood up to take off the towel, jumped into his red briefs, and tore open the plastic wrapping.

Letting the plastic fall to the ground buoyantly, he unfolded the robe. In the middle was an instruction pamphlet on how to properly wear the yukata, both in Japanese and in English. It was simple enough. Cullen carefully read the instructions before putting his arms in meticulously. First, he had to wrap the right side underneath the left.

It fit him well. And the geometric patterns and flowers were all pleasing to the eye. The fabric was soft cotton, which rubbed against his skin in a satisfying way.

Holding the robe closed with his right hand, he walked over to a body-length mirror on the wall by the bathroom door. After taking a long look at himself, he turned to Tharin, held his left hand out, and asked, "Will you hand me the sash?"

But Tharin looked like he was in some sort of a stupor. He stared at Cullen for a few more seconds and began to approach on his knees.

"I'm sorry, do I look weird?" inquired Cullen, suddenly concerned.

The young man answered, "No, you look good." The voice was low and sultry. "You look great."

Soon enough, it became clear what the young man wanted. Tharin opened the robe and let his right hand hover over the front of Cullen's briefs. He whispered, "Is it okay if I…?"

With a rough swallow, Cullen consented, "Yes."

And once again, the two men endeavored to satisfy each other. It was glorious freedom.

END NOTE

Cullen and Tharin are respecting Japanese culture by properly wearing yukatas when they are traditionally worn, during summer.

Next up, a brief interlude and Tharin's turn to speak.