Derek & I

Copyright © 2003

By Lee Mariner

The author's copyright and all provisions of the original disclaimer, remain in force.  All Rights are reserved.  This story contains homo-erotic material and you must be of legal age in your locality to be reading it.  If you do not approve of this type of material, PLEASE LEAVE.

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

All of my stories are listed in the Nifty Archives listing of Prolific Authors and can be accessed by using this link:


Readers wishing ot be notified of future episodes to this and other stories can contact me at:


Chapter #24

"Oh, jeez, Larry,"  Derek said as we got into the truck.  "We forgot to ask Mr. Winters if he knew of a good architect whom he could recommend."

"Ouch," I said, as I pulled the door shut and looked at him.   "With everything else we were talking about, it slipped both of our minds.  We can call him later from the house."

"That's another thing," Derek said.  "We need to have a telephone installed in the apartment."

"I agree, " I replied, as I started the truck. "Don't you think we should wait until after the remodel?"

"I don't see why, Larry," he said seriously. "If we have a wall phone installed by the entrance door, it shouldn't be in the way.  If it is, we can have it moved."

"I guess that makes sense; at least we won't have to be using Mom and Dad's telephone," I replied as I pulled away from the curb asking," Where do you want ot go for lunch, got any place in mind?"

"You'll probably think it's silly," he said as he turned sideways on the seat to face me.  "What do you say that, we see what the Monarch Bar and Grill is like?"

"The what?" I answered, the name not registering at first as I glanced at my wristwatch.

"The Monarch Bar and Grill that the cute waiter who served us yesterday in the Rain Forest told us about," he answered, grinning.  "Don't tell me you don't remember Curtis?"

"I remember the way he was looking at you all during lunch," I replied. "But I don't know what street it is on; there was no address on the card."

"We can give them a call and find out if you'll stop at a telephone booth," he said, as he leaned toward me grinning, and with a twinkle in his eyes as he pulled a card from his hip pocket."

"You devil, Derek, I don't know what I'm going to do with you." I exclaimed.

"You can do anything you wish with me, Lover," he said, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before opening the glove box, and looking for a pen or pencil. 

"Anything?" I said, glancing at him, and grinning impishly as I pulled up to a corner telephone booth.

"Yeah, that too," he said, laughing as he closed the glove box after finding a pencil and opened the door to get out.

Holding the telephone receiver to his ear with  his shoulder, Derek dialed the number on the card.  I could see his lips moving as he spoke to whomever had answered.  I saw him laughing as he wrote on the back of the card; and I knew who had answered the call, Curtis our waiter from the Rain Forest.   It was only a few minutes before he hung the receiver up and returned to the truck smiling.

"Larry, you won't believe who answered the telephone," he said excitedly, as he reached for the door handle and looked through the window, his eyes sparkling.

"Curtis Dowling, the guy in the restaurant who gave us the cards," I answered insipidly. 

"That was too easy," he said, ignoring the tone of my voice as he slid across the seat, pulling the door shut as he got in. "It really surprised me that he remembered you and me, but he did."

"Why should it surprise you, it doesn't me,"  I replied; petulantly, gripping the steering wheel and looking straight ahead.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Derek still holding the door handle, and looking at me wide-eyed with a surprised look on his face. A sinking feeling of regret at being irritated because someone had admired him, settled in my stomach, and I knew I was being ridiculously jealous over nothing.  "Gosh, Larry, you're being a fucking idiot about nothing," I said to myself, opening my mouth to apologize for being so idiotically stupid when he spoke.

"You aren't jealous of him are you, Larry?" he asked, sliding his arm over the back of the seat behind my shoulders.  He moved closer, placed his hand on my thigh and whispered in my ear, "You should know that you shouldn't be, since no one will ever mean as much to me as you do."

Inhaling deeply, I put my hand on top of his, sighing in an attempt to shed the feeling of being a fool for no reason.  Turning to look at him, I saw the soft glow in the depths of his beautiful azure blue eyes.  "Damn, D, I'm acting like a love sick idiot over the way some guy looked at you, and there is no reason for me to feel that way.  I just have trouble with the way some of them look at you as if they want to tear your clothes off to see if you are as ravishingly gorgeous naked as you are clothed."

"Would you feel better if I told you I get the same feelings when I see someone looking at you?" he said, gently squeezing my thigh and whispering in my ear,  "You don't have to worry about what other guys think; no one is going to see me naked except you.  I found the one I've always wanted, and I know you feel the same way."

I knew what he was telling me was true, but I knew the nagging fear of losing him would always be in the pit of my stomach.  I was going to have to learn to cope with it, or I would lose him because of my petty fears and jealousy.  "What's the address," I said, leaning toward him and kissing his lips gently.

"Do you still want to go," he said, straightening up, his eyes brightening.

"Sure, why not?  It'll be something different; and, it won't hurt to check it out."

"You won't mind seeing Curtis again?" he asked cautiously.

"No reason, I should," I answered grinning and teasing him with an impish look.

He said that the restaurant is on the corner of Jasmine Street and Euclid Ave. and that the number is 8823 Jasmine.  We should look for a gray building with a dark blue canopy over the entrance.  Do you know where it is?"

"Yeah, I know where Jasmine and Euclid cross; it's really not far from the lumber yard where I work,"  I answered, exhaling softly and saying as I pulled away from the curb,  "I never had any idea there was a gay bar in that part of town; most of them are downtown."

"Have you been in a gay bar?"  Derek asked as I pulled away from the curb and maneuvered through traffic to make a left turn on Jasmine.

"A year or so ago, I went to one with Eddie Carper.  You remember him, don't you; the guy with the big dick who couldn't take his eyes off of you?" I asked glancing at him and seeing him nod his head affirmatively before I went on. "I didn't really care for it, but I think everyone knew Eddie, and he fit right in.  The music was so loud you could hardly hear yourself think. The cigarette and marijuana smoke was so thick that you could cut it with a knife; and, if you breathed it long enough, it would have given you a high.   There were young half naked guys suckering the older men for beers; and, after I was groped a couple of times, I told Eddie I was leaving; but he stayed.  No...,I don't think you would have liked it anymore than I did."

Derek sat silent for a few moments before he asked, "Do you think this place is the same way?"

"We won't know that until we get inside but it is kind of early for any heavy stuff to be going on.  Besides that," I answered, chuckling softly as I said, "Didn't the card say something about being,  'A discriminating club for the discreet', or something like that?"

"That's what it said, and we should be finding out whether or not it means what it says very shortly,"  he answered, directing my line of sight up the block to a gray building with a dark blue canopy  from the doorway to the curbing.


There was a large "patrons parking" sign painted on the side of the building with an arrow pointing to an area that was enclosed by a chain link fence topped with barb-wire.  There were several cars already parked inside the enclosure even though it was only four-thirty in the afternoon.  Pulling inside, I selected a space at the rear of the enclosure, and turning the truck around, backed into it.

"It looks as if they are trying to insure security doesn't it, Larry?" Derek asked as we got out of the truck.

"Maybe they have to, D," I answered, looking around and locking my door after making sure Derek had locked his. "The lumber yard where I work is not far from here, and this is a commercial area," I continued as we walked toward the front of the building.

"Is that why there are no windows?" he asked.

"It may be; but I'm not sure," I answered as we reached the sidewalk.

The front of the building had two large glass-block "windows," one on each side of the entrance which was centered under the canopy.   There was a small low wattage light enclosed in an opaque globe inside of what looked like a protective cast iron cage over the door.  The name, "Monarch Club-Private" was painted in gold letters on the dark green door, and I recognized the heavy Yale security locks that were installed over and under an ornate brass door handle. 

"It says, 'Private', Larry," Derek said, placing his hand on my arm as I put my hand on the door handle.  "Do you think we should knock, I don't see a door bell button?" he asked, a little squeamishly.

"There isn't anything that says what we should do," I replied, pulling on the handle and opening the door.

We stepped into a small softly lit ante-room, and there was another more elaborately carved wooden door facing us.  It had the same type of heavy double security locks and brass handle as the entrance door, but there was a small window at eye level and under it an ivory door bell button with a small sign saying, "Press."

"I guess it is private, D," I said, glancing at Derek as I pressed the button.

After a few moments, someone looked through the window; and we heard a voice ask, "May I help you?"

"Yes," I answered, glancing up over my head and seeing a speaker mounted up next to the ceiling. "Curtis Dowling invited us to meet him here. Is he here?"

"Are you Derek and Larry?" the unidentified voice asked.

"Yes, we are," I answered, glancing at Derek and wondering how our names were known.

"He said you might be coming," the voice answered, the door popping ajar with the sound of a buzzer.

"Come on in," a youngish but good looking, blond headed young man said as I opened the door.  "Curt is behind the bar. He said you might come, but he wasn't sure.  I'm Trey, Trey Collins; and from his as usual inadequate descriptions, you must be Larry; and you must be Derek," he continued glancing at us and flashing a brilliant smile as he turned away saying,  "If you will follow me, I'll take you to the bar."

To the left of the entrance there was a small cloak room with a half door, and there was a podium with a hooded lamp standing to the left of the cloak room door.  To the right there was a medium sized dance floor with a mirrored dazzle ball centered over it and a small stage with metal chairs and a microphone. There were ceiling cornices, which concealed the light fixtures that shed a soft but not intrusive pinkish light. The cornices were separated by lighted paintings depicting male nudes in various suggestive embraces.  The left and right imperial blue walls had booths running the entire length of the large rectangular room, and there were two rows of square columns with lighting sconces that separated the large room into three sections.

The floor was partially covered with an imperial blue carpet, that matched the walls, with gold patterned vinyl runways for the more heavily traveled areas.  Scattered among the columns there were tables for two and for four. The tables were covered with white tablecloths, and the chairs were cushioned in matching gold and blue leather.  Each table had a small shaded lamp sitting on it; however, I noticed the absence of ashtrays on the tables as we walked past them, following Trey.  The bar, where Trey had said Curtis would be, was at the far end of the room. The back bar wall was covered with two large mirrors; and, as we got closer, we could see a large mural depicting young nude males frolicking around outdoors in a swimming hole while others either lounged on or were wrestling on the grass and among the bushes.  Over the mirrors several hooded lights shed an iridescent glow downward enhancing and showing the interplay between the beautifully proportioned young male figures and the rainbow of colors in the background.  The soft strains of a classical piece, which I didn't recognize, was playing; but I couldn't see a jukebox stationed against any of the walls.

Several patrons who were sitting at tables turned and glanced at us as we walked past them. After giving us the newcomer once over, they returned to their drinks or their meals and continued with whatever they were talking about. Most of the men were young and well dressed, and I noticed a few heads turn and give us a second look as we passed their tables.  There was a smattering of middle-aged to older men scattered at a few of the tables and in booths, but not many.  Except for the soft music the bar was quiet, unlike the bar that Eddie Carper had taken me to.  Conversation in that bar had been impossible unless you shouted in an attempt to be heard over the loud racket of what was mistakenly called music which filled the room.

"I can see why they keep the club private," I whispered into Derek's ear as we approached the bar.

"Me too," he whispered, glancing at me quickly, as Trey leaned over the bar where Curtis had his back to us and said, "Curt, your two friends are here."

"Who?" Curtis replied before turning around from the back bar.

"Derek and Larry, Dummy," Trey chortled, grinning at us and commenting, "It's not as if he really has many good looking studs to remember, he just likes for people to think he does."

"Go screw yourself, Trey," Curtis growled under his breath, his eyes lighting up when he recognized us.

"I gave up dildos when I met you, Lover," Trey replied, giggling almost girlishly as he left us.         

"Don't pay any attention to him guys, he's always like that," Curtis said as he discreetly gave Trey the universal one finger salute.

"He is your lover?" Derek asked, as we slid up on two of the plush leather covered bar stools.

"Everyone he can corner in the dark is his lover," he chuckled, answering and grinning at Derek as he said, "so be careful if he is around. Let's forget about hungry Hilda and his vices; it's good to see you.  I wasn't sure whether you would come or not. Would you like something to drink?"

"Ginger ale for me, Curt," Derek ordered as he glanced at me and asked,  "do you want a beer, Larry?"

"I'll have a Black Horse Ale with a frosted glass if you have it," I answered, glancing down the bar and seeing several other young men.

"Ahh...for a change, a man who has taste.  That's one of my favorites; Larry, but not many people ask for it,"  Curt said as he moved away to fill the order.

Watching Curt as he opened an under-the-bar refrigerated case and extracted bottles, I leaned closer to Derek, and whispered," D, I'm still trying to figure out how he knew our names.  I don't remember telling him at the Rain Forest, did you?"

"No, I didn't," he answered. "It surprised me too when that guy, Trey asked us," he continued turning and almost kissing me as he spoke.
"It's a mystery to me," I replied, grinning and not moving my head; but not seeing Curtis, carrying our drinks, come within earshot of us.

"Kissing is permitted, but..." he chuckled softly as he placed our drinks in front of us. "I'd rather know what the mystery is even though it's probably not as exciting as a kiss," he said, his hazel eyes twinkling with little gold flecks as he looked at us.

Embarrassed, I spluttered, "no real mystery, Curtis; but we were wondering how you knew our names. It was a surprise when Trey asked us if we were Larry and Derek."

"Is that all?" he replied laughing quietly and smiling broadly.  "When you tend bar or wait on tables, you hear many things that people are talking about.  I overheard your parents speaking your names, and from the resemblance between you and the gentleman you were with, it was obvious that he was your father.  The lady mentioned Derek's name several times; but, there was no resemblance that I could detect between Derek and the three of you.  You and your parents have dark brown eyes and hair but not Derek; he has lighter almost blond hair and the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen. You're body language told me that you were probably not brothers, but I wasn't really sure whether you were gay or not.  I suspected it from the way you looked at me, and I was trying to send signals hoping you would pick up on it, but you didn't give any indication that you did.  I took a chance when I gave you the business cards for the club; but I was pretty sure that you were family." he said, winking and grinning at us with a twinkle in his eyes.

"That makes you a pretty good detective, Curtis," Derek said as he lifted his glass to his lips.

"It's the environment we work in, Derek.  People talk; and it's a matter of listening without being seen as eavesdropping which most of us aren't doing.  I could write a book about some of the things I hear at this bar and in the various restaurants I have worked in."

"It would probably be a sizzler; worthy of being published," I said, glancing at him and grinning

"I'd have to write it on asbestos, Larry," Curt replied, turning to look down the bar for who had called his name.  "You are staying for dinner, aren't you?" he asked, as he moved away to take care of the impatient customer, not waiting for an answer.


We both sat quietly for a few minutes sipping on our drinks, and looking around the club. I glanced down the bar to where Curtis was working, and Derek said, "He seems like a pretty nice guy."

We both watched Curtis fill the order of the customer who had summoned him and a few others that had bellied up to the bar while he was at that end.

"And efficient to," I replied, observing how smoothly he moved between the back bar and the beer cases. "It takes a good memory, and experience to be able to remember where all of his product is as well as all of the various drinks that people ask for."

"Its not a job that I think I would like," Derek said as we sat sipping on our drinks, and looking around the club while Curtis was working.  Several more "members" had entered while we were sitting at the bar, and Trey was busy seating those that wanted tables or booths.  Most of them seemed to be in our age group or in their twenties. There were several well dressed middle aged men, some sitting with younger men and some sitting alone.

"D," I said, nudging his leg with mine to get his attention, "they seem to take their slogan 'discreet and discriminating' seriously. The bar Eddie and I went to was nowhere nearly as nice as this one is."

"That is probably why it is a private club, Larry, they don't want it to be like that," he replied turning to face me.

"I wonder if it is always like this or if they have any sort of entertainment? We could ask Curtis," I said, glancing down the bar and seeing him  heading our way with two more drinks in his hands. 

"That's the only way we will find out," Derek replied, turning back to the bar just as he reached us.

"Find out what?" Curtis asked as he set the drinks on the bar, moving the empties off to the side.

Derek hesitated for a moment; glancing at me, and then Curtis before answering. "We were wondering whether it is always like it is now or whether there is any entertainment."

"The club has a disc jockey that is here on the weekends for dancing; and at least twice a month there are male strippers, usually on Wednesday nights," Curtis said, grinning salaciously with a gleam in his eyes and keeping an eye on the guys sitting at the other end of the bar. "Tuesday and Thursday nights we have a combo here for dancing and Karaoke if you've got the balls to get up on the stage." He continued, turning back to look at us, and still grinning.

"Strippers...," I exclaimed softly, leaning closer to the bar, and asking, "Is that legal?"

"It's a private club, Larry, and we're licensed for adult entertainment," he answered.  "Slipping bills in their g-strings or the tops of their socks is allowed. but that's all. Get caught trying to get a cheap feel, and one of the bouncers will escort you outside.   You wouldn't be interested in doing an act would you?  Both of you look like you have the body and build for it, and it might be worth it.  Some of those guys make pretty good money for showing what they have down to a pretty small g-string and the bigger the pouch, the more bucks in the g-string,"  he chuckled, winking suggestively at both of us.

"I hope you aren't serious," I said, irritated that he would suggest either one of would do such a thing.

"Hey, Larry, I was just kidding,"  he said, looking quickly at us as he straightened up and backed away from the bar.  "The club doesn't allow amateurs except on Karaoke nights; and, I really wasn't suggesting you might be interested.  How about dinner, do you want me to ask Trey to set up a table for you?"

 Anger at the audacious suggestion was welling up inside of me, and I didn't answer right away; but, just as I started to speak, Derek said it for me.

"Can we have a rain-check, Curtis?" he said, as he laid a twenty dollar bill on the bar, continuing. "We were in this area taking care of some business so while we were here, we thought we'd stop in for a drink."

"Sure," Curtis said, a tone of relief in his voice as he spoke. "I understand; maybe you can make it some other time, or I might see you at the Rain Forest. Give me a second, and I'll get your change."

"That's okay, Curtis, keep it," Derek said as we slid off of the bar-stools, turning to the front and leaving him standing with the twenty dollar bill in his hand.


Trey caught us at the door as we were leaving asking why were leaving so early.  I gave him the same excuse Derek had given Curtis. He glanced back at the bar where Curtis was still standing, and ginning almost evilly, he invited us back.  >From the look Derek gave me when he heard the invitation, I didn't think we would be visiting the Monarch Club again, at least not right away.

Darkness had fallen while we were inside, and the air was cooler. We both inhaled deeply, and hand-in-hand we walked to the enclosed parking lot. The lot was brilliantly lit by floodlights, and there were now several more vehicles than when we had arrived.  As we got into the cab of the truck, Derek slid across the seat next to me and taking my arm between his, said, "Eating at the Sonic might not be as good as it would have been inside; but I think we will enjoy it more, don't you?"

"Yeah, I think we would. Maybe we can get that space by the dumpster," I answered, giving him a quick kiss as I started the engine.

We both laughed when I quipped, "That last bottle of ale didn't taste as good as the first."