By Lee Mariner

The author's copyright, dated 2/13/2002, and all provisions of the original disclaimer remain in force. All rights are reserved.

All of my stories are listed in the Nifty Archives listing of Prolific Author's under the pen name of Lee Mariner.

My friend, Dean, has edited this work, and his assistance is greatly appreciated.

This story depicts homosexual acts and is intended for ADULT READERS ONLY. If you are not of legal age in your locality, please leave.

If you would wish to be notified of future episodes to this and/or any other story, please contact me at:

Chapter #12

A soft tapping at the door roused me from my restless sleep, and for a moment I lay, groggily listening to mother calling out softly, "Lawrence."

Still slightly sleep befuddled, I started to answer when I felt Derek move and mumble incoherently.   The sound of him mumbling and moving beside me brought me fully awake, but my arm under his neck and his arm over my chest prevented me from moving out of bed without disturbing him.

"I'm awake, Mom," I called out softly.  "What time is it?"

"It's a little after eight o'clock.  How is Derek?" she answered.

Just as I started to answer, I heard him mumble, "I'm awake," and the warmth of his breath on my neck sent a chill flowing over me.

"You're awake!!" I responded, excitedly, twisting on my side to face him, "He's awake, Mom," I called out over my shoulder.

"Oh good, may I come in?  I'd like to get the ice bag and see if he is all right."

"NO!" Derek mouthed, a look of panic in his eyes.

"Mom," I said, grinning, "give us a few minutes and we'll be downstairs.  I'll bring the ice bag with me."

"Well..., all right but be careful on the stairs.  Does Derek like oatmeal?"

Another mouthed "NO!" but, looking at him with a twinkle in my eyes, I answered,  "Yes, oatmeal and toast with milk. We'll be down in about fifteen minutes."

"Just be careful on the stairs, son," she replied as she moved away from the door.

"I don't like oatmeal, Larry," Derek protested, trying to sit up.

"You'll like Mom's," I said as I moved part way over him, sliding my leg between his and letting my body hold him down. "She makes it with maple flavoring, pure cream and brown sugar.  Loads of calories in each bowl."

"I guess you're going to tell me that your mother's oatmeal is what makes you so big and strong," he answered teasing me, his beautiful blue eyes shining brightly."

"It has something to do with it," I whispered, lowering my lips to his. 

Derek slid his arms around my neck as we kissed softly, gently.  We both needed to brush our teeth but his mouth tasted sweet and our tongues played  teasingly.  I felt the pressure of his cock swelling next to mine; and, when we broke the kiss, I looked into his gleaming eyes and whispered, " you're feeling better aren't you?"

"Inside, I feel better than I ever have, Larry.  Last night was a horror, but that's past.  I'm here with you, where I want to be," he said softly, a tear running down his cheek.

"Ah, Ah, no crying," I said gently,  brushing the tear from his cheek and running my hand through his golden locks.

"I'm sorry, Larry," he said as he ran his trembling hand up and down my spine, "it's just that I love you so much; and, after yesterday, I don't know how I'll ever repay you and your Mom and Dad."

"They, Mom and Dad, don't expect anything; and, as for repaying me..., we've got a lot of time to worry about that.  Right now though, we better get downstairs, or Mom will be knocking on the door again," I said softly.

* * * * * * * * * * .

It didn't take us long to wash up and dress.  Instead of his having to go through his suitcases, I pulled an old flannel pajama bottom from my drawer along with a t-shirt and helped Derek put them on.  He sat on the edge of the bed watching while I dressed the same way, and I could see his mind was in a whirl from the way he hung his head.   I mentally cursed his father for the way he had treated him.

There were several pairs of slippers in my closet, some of which had been Paul's, but I didn't think he would have minded if Derek used a pair of them. Slipping them on his feet and throwing his robe around his shoulders, I put my arm around his waist and, with his arm over my shoulders, helped him to his feet.   The stairway was wide enough for us to walk down side by side, but I hugged him tightly to keep him steady as we took one tread at a time.

When we reached the doorway, I could see that Mom had two place settings on the kitchen table. When we shuffled through the door, she turned from what she was doing and moved across the floor toward us. 

"Good morning, Mrs. Marks," Derek said, as he reached for the back of chair.

"Why, good morning, Derek," she said in a softly.   "How are you feeling?" she asked as she took his arm and helped him sit down.

"Still a little sore, and I ache in a few places I never did before, Mrs. Marks; but, except for my jaw and eye, I really don't feel  too bad.  I don't know how I can ever repay you, though;  I really appreciate what you did for me last night," Derek answered.

"Oh...tosh, it was nothing," Mom said, waving her hand in mock embarrassment. "Your face isn't as swollen as it was last night; that ice bag helped.  Thank goodness the skin wasn't broken when were hit.  Your jaw's going to be sore for a few days, but if it were broken you wouldn't be able to move it and talk like you are.  I'm afraid it will be a few days before the discoloration disappears from your eye though."

"Maybe we should get some beef liver and put it on his eye, Mom, it might help."  I offered, grinning at her and him.

"That's a myth, Lawrence," she answered as she sat two steaming bowls of oatmeal on the table along with a plate of buttered toast.

Derek glanced at me and then at Mom, but I just winked at him and started eating the oatmeal.  Derek picked up his spoon tentatively and tasted his. After he had eaten two or three spoonfuls, he looked at me grinning and, leaning toward me, whispered,  "it is good."

"I told you it was," I whispered back glancing over at Mom, knowing she had heard us but letting on that she hadn't.

"There is more in the pot on the stove," she said, giving herself away.

"That's all I want right now, Mrs. Marks, but I would like another glass of milk, please," Derek said.

"I'll get it, Mom," I said quickly, jumping up from the table.

"There is plenty in the refrigerator, Lawrence.  I wish you would drink more of it rather than so much coffee."

"I drink milk at almost every meal, Mom," I said while pouring Derek's glass full again.

'Do you drink coffee, Derek?" Mom asked.

"Not as a habit, Mrs. Marks, I prefer tea or milk," he answered, grinning and quickly sticking his tongue out at me.

"That's good; I like tea myself," Mom said without looking at either of us.   "Right now though, we must clear something up.  You may call me Mother, Mom or Aunt Edith, but the 'Mrs. Marks' has got to go.  Only my church pastor calls me that, and I don't remember the last time Lawrence's father called me anything other than 'Mother' or 'Edith'."

"Yes, ma'am," Derek answered.  "Would Aunt Edith be all right for now?"

"Whatever you are comfortable with, Derek, is fine with me." She answered, turning from the sink counter as the telephone rang.

Wiping her hands on her apron, she answered the phone and, for a few seconds, stood listening to whomever was talking. We looked at each other in puzzlement and then, Mom said, "He is right here in the kitchen, Rebecca.  Would you like to speak with him?"

Derek started to get up from the table, but Mother held her hand up as she listened to Rebecca, and then she said, "I'll tell him, Rebecca, that you and Henry will be here after lunch." She waved her hand, directing Derek to sit back down while she listened for a few more seconds before hanging the receiver back in its wall base.

"You heard, Derek," Mom said, turning away from the telephone.  "Rebecca and Henry will be here after lunch with more of your things.  They really didn't have any time to speak with you; I could hear a lady in the background, like in another room, calling for her to bring something or the other."

"Mother...!" He answered, groaning.   "If Beca said they would be here after lunch and Mother is hollering at her this early, you can bet it will be sometime late after she has her lady friends in for lunch."

"I don't believe that," Mother said incredulously, a note of anguish in her voice. "It is inconceivable that a mother would be entertaining the day after her son had been beaten as badly as you were.  No mother can be that callous and unconcerned, Derek.  I just cannot believe that of your mother."

"I don't think its that she does not care, Mrs...Aunt Edith.  My parents live in a different world where social status means everything.  They won't mention what happened last night outside of the house, even to my sister, Charlene, until she comes home on break from college."

"Oh, my Lord, Derek.  I forgot about your sister," I said.

"Most people do, Larry, and that is one of the reasons she selected UCLA," he said softly looking at me.  "Charlene does not fit the mold that our father wanted, the docile debutante type.   I don't guess I do either but, you'll like her when you meet her.  She is very independent and outspoken, not traits my father likes."

"I'm sure we all will, Derek," mother said, interrupting us.  "Right now, I want you to put this ice bag on your jaw and lie back down at least until Rebecca and Henry get here."

"Yes, ma'am," he said sounding like a schoolboy receiving instructions from his teacher. "Would it be all right if I cleaned up a little before getting back in bed?"

Mother looked at him and then at me.  It was as if she read my mind and knew what I was thinking when she answered him, "Only if Lawrence is in the bathroom with you, Derek.  You are still a little wobbly on your feet, and I would never forgive myself if you fell."

"I'll make sure he's okay, Mom," I said,  perhaps a little overly enthusiastically, as I helped Derek to his feet.

I could feel my Mother watching as we left the kitchen; but I didn't look back,  concentrating instead on being sure we navigated the stairs safely,  side by side.

"Is your mother always so protective, Larry?" Derek asked as we slowly went up the stairs, one at a time.

"Pretty much when it comes to the family, she is." I answered grinning and squeezing his waist with my arm.

"I guess, I'm part of your family now...?" he said turning his head and looking me in the eye as we walked into the bedroom.

"The minute you walked through the door you were, Derek," I answered, closing the door behind us as he sat on the bed.

He sat surrounded by the soft glow of the filtered morning sunlight, his hair a burnished bronze; and, when I reached down to remove his t-shirt, he put his arms around my neck and leaned backwards pulling me with him.  We fell onto the bed with his hard muscled body under me. When his arms fell from around my neck, I slid my arms up under his shoulders and hovered over him, resting on my elbows and forearms.  I felt his cock pressing against mine and the pressure building in my loins as waves of desire swept over me.  Lowering my head, I gently brushed his lips with mine and whispered, "you devil..., you really know how to get me started, don't you?"

"Unh huh," he answered softly with a twinkle in his eye.

 We both were caught in the euphoria of the moment with our eyes locked, until Derek placed his hands on the small of my back, slowly moving them upwards under my t-shirt, over my rib cage, following the contours of my chest.   I shivered from the ecstatic feelings of desire that his touch sent through me, and my cock was so hard it ached.  Rolling off of him, I stripped my clothes off and Derek pulled his t-shirt off.  When he lifted his hips to remove his pajama bottom, the thickness of his cock was outlined; and I could see a tell-tale wet spot where his cock was oozing precious fluids. I felt giddy when his cock sprang free of its restraints and slapped against his hard flat stomach.   As if of one mind, we rolled towards each other; and our bodies melded into one as we embraced.   He winced when I ran my tongue over the bruised side of his mouth, and I drew back looking at him. When he lay his head on the pillow, the twinkle in his eyes was replaced with a dreamy look as he gazed at me. It was an enchanting moment for both of us; and, when he reached up and ran his index finger along the line of my jaw, he said softly, "I love you more than I can tell you, Larry."

I lay looking into his eyes for several seconds, unable to answer.  Emotions I had only felt for Paul were surging up from deep within me.  I didn't think I could ever love anyone more than I had Paul, but those feelings were being transcended by what I felt for Derek, and I couldn't say anything.  Pulling my arm from under his neck, I raised up and, leaning on my elbow,  moved my free hand over the unblemished satiny softness of his hard stomach and chest feeling each muscle tighten and then relax as I touched them.   He squirmed slightly and, turning, put an arm over me while pressing his pelvis tightly against mine.  I felt the stickiness of his pre-seminal fluid mixing with mine as our cocks pressed together. 

Kissing the top of his head, I pushed his shoulder gently; and he lay back again.  When I kissed the hard nipples of his breasts, his muscles tightened; and, as I gently kissed his soft skin, he inhaled deeply, and sighed as he exhaled, slowly relaxing.  His muscles rippled from the sensations I knew my lips and tongue were creating as I kissed my way downward, running my tongue through the soft curly hair of the golden treasure trail leading from his bellybutton and merging with the thick softness of his pubic bush. A pearly white drop of pre-seminal fluid oozed from the urethral opening in the crown of his magnificent shaft; and,  when I touched it with my tongue slowly sliding my lips over its blood-engorged head, his abdominal muscles tightened. Putting his hands on my head, he entangled his fingers in my hair and whispered softly, "Larry, Larry," as he lifted his hips, driving his pulsing cock deep into my throat.

Holding his cock deep within my throat and washing it with my tongue, I placed one hand on his pelvis; and, holding him down, quickly shifted into a sitting position and pulled my throbbing cock from within my pajamas, squeezing it tightly.   I started sucking and washing his cock with my tongue and his hips lifted smoothly in rhythm with each downward thrust of my mouth.  Supporting myself with one hand on the bed beside him, I stroked my throbbing cock with my free hand while he fucked my mouth. 

A feeling of euphoric ecstasy enveloped us as we raced to the summit of bliss that we desired.  When his cock started to swell and harden, I felt fire rushing upwards through the length of my aching cock; and I squeezed it tightly as I clamped my lips  around the base of his cock, trying to hold back the flood of sweet nectar for a moment longer but to no avail.  We both were sweating profusely and breathing heavily, reveling in the feelings of ecstasy.  When I relaxed my lips,  he gently pushed my head down and thrust his hips upwards; his cock gushing thick, hot streams of his seed down my throat at the same moment my cock spasmed; and hot sperm erupted with volcanic force splashing over my stomach.  I withdrew slightly and gulped greedily as he held my head and drove his throbbing cock deep each time it disgorged another stream of sperm until it slowly started softening. 

I held his softening cock tight with my lips; and, while I milked the residue of my climax from my wilting cock, I drained the last drops from his softening javelin; and let it slip from my lips. Pushing myself up, I lay back down beside him and held his hand in mine.  We lay quietly, breathing deeply, letting a soft afterglow of contentment surround us.  After a few minutes, Derek turned on his side; and,  when he moved closer, I released his hand and lifted my arm.  He snuggled closer; and,  as I put my arm under his neck and placed my hand on his shoulder, he put an arm over my chest and put his head on my chest. 

I felt the soft warm air of his breathing on my chest; and, playing absentmindedly with his hair, I thought about the boy walking behind his school bus, carrying his books and trying to hide his hard cock.  "It's funny," I said almost in a whisper, "how we think of some things, Derek."

"Why, what are you thinking about?" He murmured.

"How we met," I said. "If you believe in fate, I believe we were meant to meet each other.  When you walked around that bus, all I was thinking about was wanting to suck you off.  I wasn't thinking about falling in love with you then; all I wanted was sex with a horny, gorgeous young stud.  But when you left me that first time and disappeared through the bushes, I think that is when I started falling in love with you.  All I could think about the first week was how much I missed you and wanted to be with you again.  Except for my brother, Paul, I've never had feelings for anyone the way I felt about you.  Even after all of the talking we did on the pier and in the truck about how we felt, I still wasn't really sure if you felt the same way I did.  I love you, Derek; and, when you called for me to help you, and I saw why you wanted me, that's when I knew no one would ever mean as much to me as you do.  That's is what I mean about fate, Derek.  I need you as much as you need me, and I don't want to ever lose you.  Does that sound stupid?"

"Noooo...," he answered, moving so he could look at me. "Why should the way I feel about you be any more stupid than how you feel?  I knew how much I loved you when you left me at my house.  In some ways, we have felt the same things. I never had a brother, and I can't replace Paul, but I don't want to be a brother, Larry.  I want to be yours as long as we both live.  Maybe it was fate that brought us together, but I like to think it was God that sent you to me and me to you," he said with tears welling up in his eyes.

My eyes felt watery; and,  wiping his cheeks with my fingers, I pulled his head down and,  kissing his forehead, whispered, "Maybe it was God, Derek, maybe it was."

Holding each other, we dozed off until a light knock on the door wakened us and we heard mother, "Larry, Derek, Rebecca and Henry are downstairs."

"We'll be right down as soon as we shower, Mom," I called out as we got out of bed.  "We fell asleep."

"All right, but don't be long. I'll fix some tea and sandwiches for us while we wait.  They've brought Derek's clothes which need to be unloaded." She answered.

"Okay Mom. Give us a few minutes."  I said, grinning at Derek standing naked in the middle of the room with an expression not unlike a deer caught in a car's headlights.