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 is a gay ADULT fantasy involving homosexual acts.  If you are not of legal age in your locality to be reading this material or should you not approve of such material, please leave.

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

All of my stories can be found in the Nifty Archives listing of Prolific Author's using this link:

prolific.html#leemariner

Readers having comments or wishing to be notified of future episodes to this or any other story may contact me at:

mariner23502@hotmail.com

§

Chapter #27

Derek sat quietly with his hands folded in his lap, looking out the window as we drove home.   The encounter with his father in Masters' office kept going through my mind; but he hadn't spoken a word since, other than that he wanted to go home.

Dad's car was parked in its usual spot; and, just as I turned into the driveway, Derek turned toward me and said quietly, almost in a whisper, "Do you think we should tell your parents what happened this afternoon?"

"That's up to you, D," I answered, as I parked next to the stairs to our apartment. "If we don't go in the house, they'll wonder why we didn't."

"I guess we should, but I hate going over all of that again," he replied, breathing in deeply and sighing softly.

"D," I said, taking his hand in mine after switching the headlights and engine off,  "Mom and Dad knew we were going to Mr. Masters' office, and we both know they will be wondering what happened.  We don't need to tell them all of the things your Dad said, at least not right now, if you don't want to; but we should tell them something." 

"You're right," he replied, sliding a little closer. "I just wish it was all over."

"It will be, D; and afterwards it will be like a bad dream," I whispered, leaning over and kissing him lightly.

Squeezing my hand, Derek smiled weakly and said, "Logical Larry, I don't know what I would have done without you."

§

Dad was sitting at the table with his newspaper and a cup of coffee, and Mom was working at the counter preparing sandwiches with her back to the door.  When we opened the kitchen door, he looked up and casually said, "Mother, the boys are home."

"Christopher Marks," she exclaimed, wiping her hands on her apron as she turned. "At times you aggravate me to distraction.  You've been looking out the front window ever since you got home from work, just as concerned about them as I was.  Are you all right, Derek?"  she asked, glancing at me as she moved around the table and then looking at Dad, her eyes flashing briefly.

"I'm okay, Aunt Edith, just a little tired," he answered.

"I can see that," she said, glancing at me questioningly as she put her arms around Derek, hugging him.

"We're both tired, Mom,"  "It's been a long day."

"Too long," she said, kissing me on the cheek and giving me a hug. "Both of you sit down while I finish making sandwiches.  I was going to fix pork chops for supper, but your father thought you might be late getting home, so we're having sandwiches and a fruit salad."

Derek and I sat down while Mom was busy finishing the sandwiches and getting bowls for the fruit salad from the cupboard.  Dad glanced quickly at her; and, looking around his newspaper, he gave me an inquiring look.   I glanced at Derek, who was sitting quietly, before shrugging my shoulders almost imperceptibly, shaking my head negatively.  Dad looked at Derek for a moment; and then, sighing softly, he folded the newspaper and, placing it on the floor beside him, said, "Are you sure you are all right, Derek?  

"Yes, Sir, Uncle Chris, I'm all right; but  I really am very tired; and, if it's all right with you and Aunt Edith, I'd like to lie down for awhile," he answered.

"Are you sure you don't want something to eat first?" Dad asked quietly.

"Yes, Derek, Christopher is right," Mother said as she closed the drawer and turned around with a handful of utensils, "you really should eat something to keep your strength up."

"You're right, Aunt Edith; but I really don't feel like eating right now," he answered as he slid his chair back and stood up.

Glancing at Mom and Dad and starting to get up, I said, "I'll go with you."

"No, you stay here," he said, placing his hand on my shoulder and smiling softly.

Digging in my pocket for the keys, I looked at him pleadingly for a moment before saying, "Okay, if you're sure you're all right."

"I'm sure, Larry," he replied, taking the keys and looking at me with the familiar twinkle in his eyes as he said, "Just don't make a lot of noise when you come in."

"Oh, I do wish he had eaten a little something," Mother said after Derek had left us. "I'm sure he hasn't eaten a thing since this morning."

"Neither one of us has, Mom.  We stopped at Tony's diner for breakfast, and he ate only half of a ham and egg biscuit with a glass of milk."

"Is that all?" she exclaimed as she set the table.  "The boy must be starved."

"And you probably didn't eat much more, did you, Son?" Dad asked.

"Not much more, Dad;  but I did have an order of home fries with mine,"  I replied, glancing at him and grinning sheepishly.

"Well, I never," Mom exclaimed indignantly as she sat down.  "How do you boys expect to make it through the day if you don't eat?"

"Mother,...stop fussing. They know what they are doing," Dad said, defending us.

"That may be so, Christopher; but I want you to take something to him, Lawrence,"  Mother said, not quite ready to drop the subject.

"Yes, Ma'am, I will."

"Well, Mother," Dad chuckled, glancing at me with an impish look, "would it be all right if the boy ate first?"

"Oh fudge, I don't know what I'm going to do with the three of you," Mother exclaimed, using the only word that ever came close to her cursing, as she filled our bowls with fruit salad.

§

After Dad said grace, we ate silently for a few minutes; but I could tell they were waiting for me to say something.  I think that Derek knew they would want to know what had transpired in Masters' office, and that was one of the reasons he had left, leaving me in a quandary as just what to tell them.  "Oh well," I thought to myself, "it would be better to tell them everything."

 Breathing in deeply, I took a long drink from my milk glass and said tentatively, "I guess you're wondering what happened today."

They both looked at each other; and then Dad, setting his coffee cup in its saucer, said, "It has been on our minds, Son."

Thoughts of the afternoon flashed through my mind; and, breathing in deeply, I said, "It wasn't very nice; Derek's father was there, and I thought Derek was going to panic when he saw him.  When Derek called Mr. Masters this morning, he should have told him or told you yesterday when you spoke with him.   When Mr. Winters asked him why he hadn't, Mr. Masters told him that, considering the circumstances, he didn't think it was advisable.  Mr. Winters was really upset, but you would have been proud of Derek.  He told Mr. Winters it was all right, and then he looked at his father and said, 'How are you Dad'?"    Derek's father didn't say anything at first; and when he did respond, it wasn't nice.  I won't tell you exactly what he said, but it made me very angry."

"I hope you kept your temper," Mother said quickly.

"Yes, Ma'am, I did; but, if Mr. Winters hadn't stopped me, I probably would have said a few things I shouldn't have.   Mr. Winters told Mr. Kingsley that we weren't going to get anywhere if he kept on talking like he was, insulting Derek and being sarcastic.  Mr. Kingsley didn't pay any attention; and, even after his lawyer said something to him, he kept on calling Derek names and accusing him of trying to take his business away from him."

"Who was Kingsley's lawyer," Dad asked when I hesitated.

"His name was Conklin, Charles Conklin I think," I replied.

"I've heard of the firm, Conklin, Watts and McPherson," Dad said, glancing at me.  "Their offices are in the Tradesmen Towers downtown; they are pretty heavy hitters from what I've been told."

"They might be, Dad; but, you would have been proud of Merrill...err Mr. Winters." I said quickly correcting myself.  "He reminded me of you when you get mad."

"If Merrill believes he's right, he won't back down," Dad said, grinning at my confusion when Mother spoke.

"Were you called any names?"

"Yes, and it made me mad; but I wish you could have seen Derek; he stood up to his father.  He told him that he could call us all the names he wanted, but it didn't bother him anymore.   He told his father that whatever he said; he couldn't hurt him anymore than he already had. That made Mr. Kingsley really mad, but Merrill shut him up real fast.  He asked him if he knew what physical assault was and told him that if he didn't he should ask Mr. Conklin, who could tell him.  If Derek had told him to, Merrill was going to file charges against him for the way he had beat Derek.   Derek wouldn't let him do it though.  Mr. Conklin explained a few things to Mr. Kingsley and he got less belligerent, but he was still angry," I said, breathing heavily from remembering what had been said.

"Well, at least he stopped calling you boys names," Mother said.

"No, Mother, he didn't, not then," I said glancing at Dad.  "They were talking about the way Derek's grandmother had written her will and the different things she had told the bank she wanted in the trust funds that she had set up for him and his sister. Mr. Conklin told Mr. Kingsley that there was not much he could do about it and that trying to contest the way Mrs. Worthington had established the trusts would he long and expensive.  Mr. Kingsley admitted he didn't want to do that; but he just couldn't understand why Derek and his sister were against their mother and him, especially after he heard that Derek's sister had given the bank and Derek a power of attorney to act for her.  I think what really blew his mind was losing control over Derek's trust fund even though he knew he would lose control when Derek turned eighteen."

"Some men don't like losing control, Larry," Dad said contemplatively,  "especially where money is involved."

"Well, Mr. Kingsley didn't like it.  Derek tried to talk with him and explain how he had felt, but his father wouldn't listen.  He seemed to be more worried about what people were going to say when they found out Derek was a fagg...gay, and that they would be the laughing stock of their country club.   That's when I got real angry and I probably shouldn't have said anything, but I told Mr. Kingsley off," I said, the anger building inside of me again from thinking about it.  "Derek didn't deserve to be talked to like that, Mom, Dad.  It made me mad as hell."

"Easy, Larry, don't go getting yourself upset," Dad said, placing his hand on my arm.

"Well...," Mother said indignantly.  "I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself and Derek."

"I'm sure, from all that Larry has told us, that it didn't make a whole lot of difference at that point, Mother," Dad said softly. 

"Maybe it didn't, Dad, but I sure felt a lot better afterwards," I said

"No doubt, Son, we all do when we get something off of our chests.  What's going to happen now?"

"I don't really know, Dad, at least not now.  I was concerned about Derek, and I wasn't really listening, but they were talking about irregularities in the accounts that needed to be explained.  Merrill was going to have an audit or something like that done if Derek agrees to it.   Derek told Merrill to do what he thought was necessary as long as his Dad wouldn't go to jail.  Can you believe that?  After all his father has put him through, he was still concerned about him."

"You can't really blame Derek for that, Lawrence," Mother said softly, showing her compassionate nature. "No son, or daughter for that matter, wants to see a parent in prison."

"I guess you're right, Mom," I said looking into her soft eyes. "Doing that would be kind of hard, and I don't see Derek doing it even after all that he's been through."

"It takes a lot of guts to do that, Larry.  Tell me though, could Mr. Kingsley have gone to prison?"

"I guess he could have, Dad; at least I think so from hearing what they were talking about.  Mr. Masters said that the trusts, Charlene's and Derek's, were solvent except that there were some withdrawals that had been made by Mr. Kingsley from Derek's account that needed to be to be explained.   Mr. Masters said that the bank was not really involved in it since Mr. Kingsley was trustee when they were made.  I got the impression that he thought they were excessive and that's why he mentioned it.  Merrill told Mr. Masters' he already knew all about it from the information the bank had provided, and that's why he asked Derek if he would agree to an audit of his fathers personal and company finances.  I told you what Derek said about not wanting his father to go to jail, and Merrill said that he would take care of everything.  He's supposed to call us when everything is in order.  There is a lot of money involved, Dad; but, I don't believe Derek is worried about that; he just doesn't want his parents hurt," I said wearily, looking at Mom preparing a covered plate.

Squeezing my arm, Dad said softly, "If Merrill said he would take care of it, he will.  For now though, we don't need to talk about it anymore.  You take that plate your mother is fixing to Derek and be sure he eats.  He was tired when he left here, but he'll be waiting for you."

"He probably is, Dad, but there is one thing that really bothered me.  Derek's father acted like he hated him for being gay, and I don't understand how a father could talk to his son like he did to Derek.  You and Mom never talked to me like that or called me names like he did."

"Not many people do understand it, Son," he said quietly, his eyes radiating love.  "The big difference between the Kingsleys and your mother and I is that we know you, and who you are.  They obviously didn't know Derek."

"And...,they didn't love him like we love you, both of you,"  Mom said as she set Derek's plate in front of me. "Make sure he eats.  I know you love him, but make sure he knows it; he needs reassurance that you do."

"Yes, Ma'am," I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes.

§