Derek & I
Copyright © 2003
By Lee Mariner
author's copyright, and all provisions of the original disclaimer
remain in force. All Rights are Reserved.
This story depicts homosexual acts between males and, it is intended
for ADULT READERS ONLY. If you are not of legal age in your
locality or should you not approve of such material, please leave.
My friend, Dean has edited this work and his assistance is greatly
All of my stories are listed in: /nifty/prolific.html#leemariner
Any reader wishing to be notified of future episodes to this and/or any
other stories, please contact me at: firstname.lastname@example.org
When Derek and I walked into the kitchen, Mom turned from the counter
looking at us with a smile. "My, oh my, tongues will
be clacking when the
ladies see me in the company of two such well dressed and handsome
men," she exclaimed.
We both had put on khaki Dockers slacks with open-throated off beige
shirts and sports
jackets. My jacket was a rustic herringbone pattern, and Derek's
classic rich brown scotch tweed. Florshiem burgundy penny-loafers
complemented and enhanced the casualness of our outfits.
Derek wore his clothing and carried
himself with the grace
of a high fashion male model that even men looked at with envy.
He had what so many
men wanted, an air of confidence and personal pride in his appearance
that exuded a
charisma, captivating those around him; but, without a hint of
arrogance in his demeanor. His unruly soft light brown hair shone
burnished bronze glow
that accented the brilliant blue of his eyes and his tawny unblemished
complexion. He was stunningly handsome, and I couldn't help but
feel a sense of pride combined with a feeling of intense love welling
up inside of me.
"There isn't another lady we would rather be with, Mom," I said as
Derek kissed one cheek and I the other.
"Oh, posh, Lawrence," she replied, as she playfully patted my
cheek. Turning, she looked at Derek saying, "Did he flatter you
that way when you first met, Derek?"
"Pretty close, Aunt Edith, but it was mutual," he answered smoothly,
me with a gleam in the depths of his eyes and smiling as he spoke.
"Where did Dad tell you that you would have lunch?" I asked as I
handed her the shawl for her shoulders.
"At the Rainforest Restaurant on Biltmore Ave., Dear. Why do you
ask, is there somewhere else you would rather go?" She asked, glancing
at me as she straightened the shawl around her
"No real reason, Mom; but my truck is a little cramped for the three of
us. Were we supposed to call a taxi, or was he going to pick us
up?" I asked, shrugging my shoulders and giving Derek a puzzled
"Your father should be here just about now, Lawrence," she answered,
craning her neck and looking out the door window as she drew on
the white crochet mesh gloves that matched her shawl. Her
ensemble consisted of a plain dark blue linen dress with the hem just
below her knees and black low heeled shoes complemented by the shawl
and gloves that she had crocheted herself. A small, black
straw hat was perched at a saucy angle on her
perfectly coifed dark brown hair; and we could see the two long pearl
pins that held her hat in place peeking out from under the brim.
I heard my Dad turning the car on to the gravel drive and then the
of the driver's door clicking solidly in to place as it closed.
Mother moved around the kitchen table and stood between Derek, who
hadn't said a word, and me just as Dad came into the kitchen. Stopping
just inside the door, he whistled and exclaimed, "Well, it looks like
everyone is ready. Are you boys hungry?" He asked as he stepped
forward and kissed Mother on her cheek, muttering under his breath,
"You are beautiful."
Mother smiled at Dad; and then, glancing at us, she placed her hand in
his; and they turned toward the door as Derek and I answered
together, "Yes, Sir, we had a late meal last
night at the Sonic, but even a foot-long hot dog doesn't last too
long," I continued,
winking at Derek who blushed
instantly and lowered his head.
"Have you ever eaten at the Rainforest, Derek?" Dad asked as we moved
toward the kitchen door.
"No, sir, I haven't; but I'm sure it will be an improvement over the
meal Larry and I had at the Sonic," he answered, looking at me with a
twinkle in his eyes and grinning, his emotions under control.
"It was one of Paul's and our favorite places," Mother said softly as
my Dad held the car door open for her.
A bolt of lightening flashed through my head when I heard her, and I
felt like a fool. It was my brother Paul's birthday; and, since
death, we always had lunch at the Rainforest before visiting the
cemetery for a few minutes.
"Jeez, Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. I forgot completely that it was
Paul's birthday," I moaned, feeling ashamed and not knowing exactly
what I should say when Derek spoke up.
"Some of that is probably my fault, Larry, what with all of the
excitement and turmoil I've caused you and your parents."
"And that, Young Man, we will hear no more of," Dad said, looking
sharply at Derek as he closed Mothers door before walking around to the
driver's side, "you are part of this family, now and for as long
as you want to be."
"Yes, Sir," Derek replied a little sheepishly.
"Good, that ends it," Dad said, glancing back and forth between the two
of us before
continuing, "You know that we visit the cemetery after
lunch, Larry, but it's really not necessary that you and Derek go
with us if you have other plans."
"There are a few things we need to do; and we were going to talk with
you about them, Dad. Derek needs some personal advice; and, if
it's no trouble, we could talk over lunch provided it's all right with
you and Mom."
"I see nothing wrong with that, Son. Do you want to ride with us
or use your truck?"
"We will follow you, Sir, and park the truck at the
station. We can ride with you and Mom from there to lunch
and then to the cemetery. On
the way home, you can drop us off, and we can pick it up," I said; and
Dad nodded his agreement as he started the car.
Rainforest was not as crowded as it usually was, but it had been almost
a year since we have eaten there. There were several young
girls and boys with aprons around their waists who were sort of
milling around waiting for someone to tell them what they should do
next. Most of them were probably high school or early college
students just starting summer jobs. I remember feeling almost the
same way when I first started at Mr. Carlson's.
We stood just inside the entrance at a small podium that had a
hand-written sign, "Please wait to be seated," tacked to the front edge
of the desk. After a few minutes I started to get fidgety and was
looking around for someone when I heard Derek say softly in my ear,
"I am being patient, D," I said turning my head and almost kissing
him, he was so close. "You would think they would be better
organized than this,"
I continued, grinning as I pulled my head back a little.
"It takes time to teach new help, Son," Dad said without looking
around. "I have the same problem at the station."
Memories of when Paul had worked with Dad flashed though my head.
I whispered to Derek that Paul had told me about the "young
acted like they wanted to work but had trouble finding their asses much
less, even after being told and shown, remembering how to replenish a
car's oil or clean the windshields."
"You might have to show me how to do that," Derek whispered in my
ear. "I've never done it."
"You haven't?" I said, turning and looking at him incredulously.
"I don't have a car, remember? I learned how to drive one in
driver's education at school, but they didn't teach us how to service
them," he replied with a twinkle in his eye.
Overhearing our talking, Dad started to turn around and say something
when he saw a nice
looking young man wearing the Rainforest uniform coming toward us
"Good afternoon, my name is Curtis; and I'll be your server.
Welcome to the Riverforest; would you like a table or a booth for two?"
he asked Mom and Dad; but Derek and I, standing behind them, could see
his eyes directed
right at us as he spoke.
"One of the large booths for four, Curtis, if you have it. If
a table will do fine," Dad said.
"I'm afraid it will have to be a table, Sir," Curtis answered unruffled
by the assumption he had made. "The younger crowd fill the large
booths pretty fast, and I'm afraid the four of you would be cramped in
smaller one. Follow me, please," he said turning away
but letting the golden gaze of his hazel eyes show us where his
We followed Curtis through a maze of tables with low hanging synthetic
vines suspended between a myriad collection of just as synthetic
trees and foliage. Small blinking white and colored lights
were hidden in among the foliage, and hidden electronic equipment
issued the low
rumble of recorded thunder interspersed with an occasional flash of
lightening. A number of elephants, giraffes, monkeys,
hippopotami and a huge collection of artificial tropical birds were
strategically located in and among the trees and bushes for effect.
Fortunately the owners had enough sense when they designed the
restaurant to include a few secluded areas where normal conversation
could be had without competing with the sound effects, although the
screams of children always seemed to assault the ear drums regardless
where the seating was,
making a mockery of such efforts.
Derek and I assumed the vanguard position to assist Mom and Dad with
moving between the vast array of chairs scattered up to and around the
tables. Of course, being just behind Curtis, we were able to
admire the tight fitting dark green uniform pants that covered the
cheeks of his muscled ass. The light green shirt he was wearing
had flowing sleeves but the matching green of his vest showed his lean
slimly developed torso. He seemed to be about the same age and
close to the same height as Derek and I
and probably weighed just a little less, but he was not skinny.
The thickness of the trapezoid and deltoid muscles of his neck and
shoulders along with the width of his back and the downward sweep of
his rib cage ending with a small but not delicate waist revealed a
solid well built, although not overly muscular young man. It was
obvious that he
of himself. His thick well groomed dark brown hair flowed down
the nape of his neck, curling slightly at the top of his shirt
collar. There was just the hint of a swagger in his gait, and we
grinned at each other, acting like we were doing our best to make a
clear path following him in the direction of a table that
sat in a small alcove with another empty table.
"I think you will enjoy this table," he said as he placed menus
at each place setting and then held Mom's chair for her. He
after she sat down, and he hesitated for a moment, letting his left
deliberately brush downward across his pelvis to his side. When
he saw that Derek and I were looking at the bulge in his
crotch, he teasingly hid it by draping a towel he was carrying over his
left forearm, his hand holding his pad, the other poised with
"Would you care for something to drink while you look over the
menu?" He asked, with a twinkle in his hazel eyes and a small
smile playing at the corners of his mouth, the tip of his tongue just
visible between his slightly parted lips.
"Ice tea all around, I think, don't you, Mother?" Dad asked
looking at us inquisitively.
"I'll bring a pitcher of un-sweetened tea with glasses," Curtis said,
we would want more than one glass.
"He seems like an awfully nice young man," Mother said as he walked
"That is the way he and others that are serving tables earn most of
their wages, Mother. Restaurants have notoriously low paying
but a good waiter or waitress earns quite a bit of their wages in tips
by being efficient and
courteous when serving guests."
"I'm sorry, " I said looking at Derek and my parents. "I don't think I
could ever be in a service type job."
"It's a job that takes a lot of time and stamina, and I must say that I
admire those who work in them," Dad said as he looked around the dining
room, before continuing. "Now then, Derek, what was it you
wanted to talk about over lunch?" Dad asked as he adjusted his
chair to be more comfortable.
"I need your help in finding a good lawyer, Uncle Chris," He stated
bluntly and then continued. "Larry and I had a long talk with Mr.
Masters at the bank yesterday. He is the Senior Vice-President
of Heritage Bank and Trust and also the trustee of the trusts that my
Grandmother Worthington set up for my sister, Charlene, and me.
Since my eighteenth birthday has passed, there are
certain instructions that Grandma Worthington included in the trusts
concerning things she wanted to be sure were done when Charlene
I reached eighteen," he said, breathing in deeply before he
continued. "Mr. Masters told us that he had mentioned it to
since, by law, he was my legal guardian until I reached eighteen.
supposed to see him about making those changes. I guess he kind
of forgot about them; and, when Mr. Masters called the house, well, you
know what happened; he then called your house."
"Humph, " Mother snorted, "No offense intended, Derek, but business men
don't usually forget
matters concerning banks and finance." She said softly, more content
sit and listen than interrupt.
Derek looked at me briefly and then at Mother. "I
don't think it was intentional, Aunt Edith; at least I would not like
to think he would do something like that," he said quietly before
shifting his gaze and looking at, Dad and continuing. "Is
that you could recommend,
"Of course, Derek, my lawyer, Merrill Winters. We've known each
other all of our lives, and we served in the Army together. For
money, you won't
find a better man in all of the city," Dad said with a firm note of
conviction in his tone.
I started to give my input to what Dad had said about his lawyer, but
Curtis arrived with the ice tea and glasses. Placing the glasses
on the table, he started to pour when Dad said, "We can do that, Son.
We don't have a lot of time, so why don't you go ahead and take
"Yes, Sir," Curtis answered, deftly returning the pitcher to the table.
Lunch was very light for all four of us. Derek and I had tuna
fish sandwiches and house salads with a light vinegar and oil
dressing. Mother ate only a salad with french dressing while Dad
devoured, under Mom's disapproving eyes, the old standby ham and
swiss on jewish rye bread with all the
usual trimmings, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise and a side order of
When Curtis had placed Dad's order in front of him, Mother shook her
gently, exclaiming, " really, Christopher, do you have to eat such a
heavy lunch when it is so warm outside?"
"Now, Edith," he answered, chiding her gently as he did, "I'm hungry."
"You'll get as big as a house if you keep that up, Dad," I said, trying
"Don't you start, Young Man; and, Derek, don't take sides," Dad said as
he bit into his sandwich not waiting for Derek's answer but getting it
"I wouldn't dream of it, Uncle Chris, my mother didn't raise a fool,"
said cheerfully, looking at Mother and me with a broad smile, giving me
an impish glance, his eyes twinkling.
As we were finishing, Curtis returned to the table and as he was
clearing off the dishes, he asked, "anyone for dessert? We have a
delicious Key Lime pie."
Dad looked around the table before replying, "It doesn't look like it,
Curtis; just bring the check will you, please?"
Derek and I protested his paying the check, but he insisted. Curtis
quickly returned with Dad's change, and I noticed Dad left a
tip for the service. Thanking him profusely, Curtis drew Mother's
chair back for her and stood aside so Dad could escort her out.
Derek and I started to pass him when, with a wink, he slipped a small
card to each of us as he suggestively ran the tip of his
tongue over his very supple lips and whispered, "use these if you would
care to visit. I'll be working later this evening."
As Mom and Dad moved in front of us, I glanced down at the card cupped
in the palm of my hand,
The Monarch Bar and Restaurant
discriminating club for the discreet.
Curtis Dowling, Bartender.
"Damn, Larry," Derek said after reading the card. "He's a brazen
devil; isn't he?"
"Maybe, but he surely had the hots for you from where I was sitting," I
said teasingly, staying a safe distance from Mom and Dad who were
in arm ahead of us.
"Oh no, not me, you. He couldn't take his eyes off of you," he
as good naturedly.
"Either way..." I started to say when Dad called out, "What are you two
going on about?" he said, glancing back at us. "Was there
something wrong with your lunch?"
"It was all right, Uncle Chris," Derek answered, glancing at me smugly;
and then I injected just as smugly, "I've had better."
We spent only a few minutes at the cemetery, and Derek and I stood to
the side while Mom squatted and plucked a few weeds from the base of
Paul's headstone. After she and Dad placed the white roses he
had bought in the bronze vase, we knelt; and, holding hands, Dad said a
prayer. I could feel Derek squeezing my hand, and I squeezed his
"It's a really beautiful place you chose for Paul, Aunt Edith," Derek
said softly as we stood and he looked over the grounds surrounding
"Ours are right beside him, Derek," she said softly, indicating the
grassy area to the left of Paul's granite marker, sighing deeply and
dabbing at the corners of her eyes with her handkerchief. We stood
quietly for a few more minutes, listening to the wind rustling the
leaves of the surrounding trees. In the distance a carillon was
playing, and the music of the synchronized bells drifted over the
cemetery on the soft
breeze, surrounding us.
We rode to the service station in silence. As soon as we reached
it, Dad called his lawyer and made an appointment for us for the
following morning. After talking with his station manager, he
wrote Mr. Winters' address and telephone number on a slip of paper and
handed it to Derek. "You'll like Merrill, Son. Just tell
him what your problem is and what you need, and he'll get it
for you. I can vouch for that, Merrill has never let me down.
If I can help in any way though, you let me know," he said as he
squeezed Derek's shoulder affectionately and then turned to me
"Your Mother and I are going on to the house. Are you guys going to be
home for dinner?"
"I'm not sure, Dad," I answered, looking at Derek. "We might but
there are a couple of things we want to check on first. How about
I give you a call yea or nay?"
"Sounds okay to me; just be careful." He said, waving as they went to
"That's Dad," I said to Derek as we waved back. "Always
with the 'be careful' or 'take it easy'."
"At least he says it, Larry," He replied wistfully.
"Oh, shit, hon, I'm sorry," I said, aggravated with my big mouth.
have said anything."
"No problem," He answered, breathing in deeply and then suddenly
cheering up as he exhaled, saying. "Were you
serious about getting a bigger place?"
"Of course, if you want too," I said quickly. "Do you have
anything in particular in mind?"
"I was thinking maybe we could check over the real estate ads and see
if there is anything we might like, nothing big but at least
bigger than Paul's apartment. We definitely want a larger bathroom and
maybe a patio, so we aren't cooped up inside all of the time.
do you think?" he said excitedly.
"Let's find a newspaper and check it out," I answered just as
The newspaper box in front of Dad's station was empty; but, when we
started to get into the truck, I heard Morgan Padgett's familiar voice
call out, "Hold
up, Larry. You can have your Dad's newspaper if you want it; he
went off without
"Thanks, Morgan," I said, taking the proffered
newspaper. "How are you doing; are you graduating this
year?" I asked as I handed the newspaper to Derek before turning
to look at Morgan.
Morgan Padgett was the same age as I was, but his build was more
muscular and heavier, and he was maybe a half-a-head taller. His
blond hair was always unruly but it looked natural on him, giving him a
sort of cherubic ''Jolly Green Giant'' appearance. His granite
gray eyes shone when he was talking with you, and you knew he was
listening to every word being spoken from the way he watched your face
as you were talking to him.
He really wasn't a bad looking
boy, but being dirt poor and living with alcoholic parents didn't
help. Regardless of his environment, his well worn clothes were
always clean; and he was generally well groomed. It was obvious
yearned for recognition, because he seemed to want to learn and help
whenever he could. He had started working at Dad's service
station when he was fifteen years old, and he should have graduated the
same year I did, but he missed so much time that he couldn't pass the
final tests or the SOL tests even though the teachers tried helping him
out with special
sessions. Often, when business was a little slow, he would be
found studying in Dad's office. Morgan was the youngest of three
children, and what he had achieved was done pretty much on his own in
spite of the lack of parental or sibling encouragement.
was an older brother in prison for armed robbery and a sister who had
dropped out of school and disappeared, supposedly having gone to the
western mecca, Hollywood. We were pretty sure that the money he
for Dad fed him and his parents, but he very seldom ever mentioned his
parents or what went on in his home, and we didn't pry. He was
the type of kid that always seemed to be underfoot like a little puppy
but you couldn't help but like and feel sympathy for him at the
same time. I always thought that was one of the reason's my Dad
kept him on, that and his being so much like my brother Paul.
"Yeah, finally," he said excitedly, his face wreathed in a broad smile
and his eyes shining. "Are you going to be there when they hand
diploma?" He asked, almost jumping up and down; he was so excited that
hated telling him I
couldn't make it since I would be attending Derek's graduation.
"I'm sorry, Morgan," I said, placing my hand on his thickly muscled
shoulder and squeezing. "I've already made other plans, and I
can't make it, but I want to see
your diploma the next time I'm here, okay?"
"Sure, Larry," he answered feigning enthusiasm and not showing any
disappointment. I could tell, though, from the sudden painful
look in his eyes that he was extremely disappointed; and I felt like
biting my tongue. "I'll be sure and
bring it in so you and your Dad can see it. Maybe he'll let me hang it
on the wall in the office. It would be safer there than at home," he
said, shoving his hands into his pockets as he headed back
"Sad isn't it?" Derek said softly as we watched Morgan move away with
his hands stuffed in his pockets, his broad shoulders sagging a little.
"You mean, Morgan?" I said flatly, as I watched him
"Yeah," Derek answered. "I don't know him, but he seemed so
cheerful at first and then sad when you told him you had other plans
and couldn't attend his graduation. You meant you had plans for
mine; didn't you?"
"Of course, I did," I said, still feeling deflated at having
disappointed Morgan, and then told him the story about
"And you mean there won't be anyone to see him graduate?" Derek
asked, sad eyed.
"Probably not," I said wistfully, glancing in Morgan's direction and
then back at Derek, as we got into the truck.
"Larry," Derek said softly, running his fingers over my thigh as he
looked at me, his beautiful blue eyes filled with warmth and
compassion. "Maybe we could attend Morgan's graduation first and
then mine... We should be able to work it out, shouldn't we?"
"I guess we could," I replied, brightening up, as I turned the ignition
on and started
the engine, a feeling of intense warmth and love
swelling up inside of me as I gazed into the soft depths of his
Morgan came to the door of the office when we pulled
up. His face broke into a wide smile, and his eyes brightened
I looked across Derek and told him we would be at his graduation.