This piece of fiction eventually contains sexual interactions between consenting male adults. Please do not read this if it is illegal where you are, or you are not of age to do so.
All characters are fictional and any similarities to known actual people are coincidental, unless otherwise specified.
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The Funeral
I stood there and watched as they folded the flag that had been laid across my brother's coffin. I couldn't believe that he was actually gone. He was my best friend and the only one in my family that knew I was gay. Even though he was in the Marines, he was ok with having a gay brother and loved me, regardless of who I loved.
My parents stood next to me and you couldn't tell that they were burying their first born son. Dad believed that real men didn't show emotion. I could feel his eyes on me and knew that he would be disgusted with me because I was crying for the loss of Sam, my brother.
I looked around and saw that there were several Marines from his unit here. There was one in particular that caught my eye. He stood about six foot six with about two hundred and forty pounds of solid muscle. He looked like a typical guy's guy Marine. I could tell that he was all business, but there was something about him that kept drawing my eyes over to him.
My eyes were drawn back to the casket as an officer handed my mom the flag.
We held the reception at my parent's house following the service. I knew that I was in for a lecture because of the crying at the service. I had no sooner walked in the house when my dad pulled me into his study.
"You're such a wuss," he snarled.
"What?" Not that I was really surprised that he thought that.
"You were crying like a baby. Your brother died a man and didn't deserve your blubbering."
"Dad, he would have been fine with me crying. You're the only one who feels that crying makes you less of a man. There were Marines there who had tears in their eyes as well. It's not like I was sobbing."
There was a knock on the door before mom opened it and stuck her head in. "Guys, guests are arriving. Quit your bickering and get out here."
I turned to leave when he grabbed my arm. "Man up or get out of my house."
"Whatever you say, Dad," I walked out of the room.
When I stopped in the kitchen to get something to drink, I came across the same Marine that I had noticed at the cemetery. He was grabbing a beer, and when he turned around he just stood there staring at me, which made me a little uncomfortable.
"You must be Jason." He held his hand out for me to shake. "I'm Lieutenant Johnson. It's good to meet the little brother that Sam was always talking about."
"It's good to meet you, Lt. Johnson. I wish it could've been under better circumstances though," I shook his hand and he offered me a beer.
"Is there somewhere we can talk for a minute?"
"Yeah, come on. We can go up to my old room and talk." I led the way up the back stairs and into my room from when I was younger.
He glanced around and I was a little embarrassed because I had playbills on the walls, and hand drawn photos. What seemed to grab his attention was a picture of me and Sam just before he left for basic training. I had forgotten to grab it when I moved out last year. There were still some things that I needed to grab and figured this was as good a time as any. I noticed that mom already had some boxes up here for me.
"So what's on your mind, Lieutenant?" I asked as I sat on the edge of the bed.
I wasn't expecting him to pull out a letter, but he did and handed it to me. "Every time we get stationed somewhere, we write a letter to a family member and give it to a member of the team to deliver if something happens to us. I was the keeper of Sam's letter to you."
"Thanks, I'll open it when I get home. My dad has this thing about `real men don't cry'. Knowing my brother, there is something in here that will cause me to do just that."
"Your brother loved you very much. You're pretty much all he talked about."
"You must be the Chase that he spoke about often. That is assuming there is only one Lt. Johnson."
"Yeah, I'm Chase. Sorry, I've gotten so used to introducing myself as Lt. Johnson that I sometimes forget that I have a first name." He chuckled as he ran his hand over his hair. "I also have his cell phone for you. I thought you could maybe get the pictures and videos off of it, or at least try to. I've never tried to get things off of a broken cell phone before, but I've heard that as long as the memory card is fine you can get all your information off and transferred to a new device."
"Thanks. I have a similar phone, so I should be able to connect it to my computer and download the photos and videos if the phone isn't too damaged."
"I want you to know that if you ever need to talk, I'm a good listener," he said as he looked for a piece of paper.
I knew what he was doing so I pulled my phone out and handed it to him. "Just put the number in here, that way I won't lose it."
He chuckled and took the phone from me and started to input his number. I heard his phone buzz and figured that he had sent a message to himself so he could have my number as well.
"Remember, you need anything at all, even if it's just an ear, give me a call. The team is now going to be stationed at Miramar for the foreseeable future. It's just a short jaunt down the highway for either one of us."
"Thanks Chase. I really appreciate it. When are you guys moving out here?"
"We report to Miramar in two weeks. We have gotten a house so that the team can stay together and not have to live in the barracks on base. You're more than welcome to come and hang out with us on weekends."
"I may take you up on that. What all did Sam say about me?" I was a little worried that he may have accidentally outed me to his buddies.
"Just that you're an awesome little brother and that you're in law school. You are a huge football fan and you love to draw. He kept the picture that you drew for him, of the two of you, in his bag and he took it with him whenever we were sent overseas. Otherwise, it was tacked up in his room. We were actually wondering if we could keep it in the house when we move, kind of in memory of him."
"That sounds good to me. He would like that."
"Well, I should probably go. I need to get back to Quantico and finish packing so that we can get there in two weeks' time." I stood up, put the letter in my jacket pocket, and we headed back downstairs.
I walked into the living room and was surrounded by all the flowers that had been sent over from the funeral home. The fragrance was so strong that I had to get out of there. I walked around trying to find mom to let her know that I was leaving. I found her on the front porch.
"Mom, I need to get out of here, it's too much for me right now. I need to be by myself."
"Alright, Son. Don't close yourself off. I know you and Sam were close, but he would want you to move on with your life and not dwell on his death."
"I know, Mom. I know." I walked down the porch steps and headed to my car. I was thankful that I hadn't parked in the driveway, otherwise I would have been blocked in. I wanted to be home by myself when I read Sam's letter.
When I got home I put a CD on, before I poured myself a glass of wine. I opened the letter and just seeing his handwriting made me cry. I folded it back up and sat it on the coffee table. I wasn't ready to read it yet.