Derek & I

Copyright © 2006

By Lee Mariner

This ADULT fantasy depicts homosexual acts and erotic situations.  Should you find such material to be offensive or should you not be of legal age in your community to read this material, please leave.

The author holds the exclusive copyrights to this story.  It is assigned to the Nifty Archives for posting under their submission guidelines.   It may not be copied, reproduced or archived on any web site or by any person without the written consent of the author.

This work edited by Scottie MacGregor to whom I am very grateful.

Comments and suggestions are always welcome.

mariner23502@hotmail.com
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Chapter #37

"Derek," I said as we drove away from the car lot. "How about we have lunch at the park before we drive over to Dad's station?"

"That's okay with me," he replied.  "It's probably better to do it that way, and then we can head on home afterwards."

"Sound's like a plan to me," I said while looking over the several interior gauges in the dash, and examining the Monte Carlo a little closer.  The sound of the engine was indiscernible and it responded immediately to a slight touch of the accelerator, the steering wheel or the brakes. The new car aroma was intoxicating, and the radio sound emitted from the multi-speaker system surrounding us was soft and clear. .

"Do you like it?" Derek asked, his eyes twinkling as he turned sideways to face me, with his arm on the back of the seat.

"You know I do, D, that's a silly question," I replied.  "It's certainly not the pickup truck, and I'm almost afraid to take it into DeVoe Park, and risk scratching it on the overhanging limbs."

"It isn't overgrown or anything like that is it?" he asked.

"Nah," I said, reflecting for a moment on the last time that I had visited the park. "I haven't been there for awhile, but it was pretty well taken care of when I was there.  Mr. DeVoe insisted on it being kept up for the public.

"He did? Tell me about it, what's it like?"  He asked excitedly, moving a little closer until his knee was touching my thigh.

"I'll try," I replied, thinking back to when we had studied the park in connection with French history.

"DeVoe Park is small, D,  approximately one-hundred acres of densely forested land that Byron DeVoe, an eccentric millionaire donated to the city, stipulating that it remain in perpetuity as a recreational, picnic park for the public use. He said it was to never be developed except for the building of a small chapel that would contain burial vaults for him and his wife," I said, glancing at Derek who seemed to be listening intently, and gently stroking the nape of my neck..

"When some  of the people heard about that, they thought it was kind of arrogant of him, and the city should have turned him down, but the city needed a public park and to avoid a controversy or any additional expense for the city, Mr. DeVoe established a trust fund for the park's maintenance, naming the members of the city council as trustees. After that there was no reason for them to reject the offer. He must have given it a lot of thought, and discussed it with his lawyers, because he stipulated that the funds and land would revert to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher should the terms of the bequest be violated, or should any of his heirs institute litigation to void the bequest," I said, hesitating, breathing in deeply and exhaling softly, quivering with excitement. "It was rumored that there were a couple of real estate agents that wanted the land, and when Mr. DeVoe's heirs who lived in another state filed a suit attempting to negate the bequest, the rumors flew around the city like wildfire that they were the ones who had contacted them and offered to back the lawsuit.  None of it was ever proved though, and when the State Supreme Court ruled that Mr. DeVoe's will and the bequest were valid under the states inheritance laws, that was the end of it." 

"It must have worked out, and everyone was happy with the results," Derek declared, continuing to entangle his fingers in the short hair on the nape of my neck as we pulled up to a traffic light. 

Sucking my gut in while we were stopped, I pressed down on my semi-flaccid cock trying to adjust it to a more comfortable position, and  when I heard his muffled chuckle, I glanced over at him watching me  with an impish glint in his eyes.

"We can bypass if you want to," I suggested, not paying any attention to the traffic light changing until the irritated driver of the car behind me blasted the air with his horn.

"I'd rather pick up something like we planned, and have a picnic if its okay with you,"  he said.

"No problem for me," I said, non-chalantly flipping the turn signal lever before swinging into Sonic's.

§

"Have you thought about what you want?" I asked as we coasted up to the order/menu station.  

""Not really, have you?"  He replied, sliding closer to look out the window at the menu.

"Not...yet." I answered just as the speaker blared, "'May I help you?"..."Give us a second," I replied irritably. "Damn, we don't get a chance to check the menu and someone is wanting our order," I groused angrily, irritated at being interrupted.

He is a little quick on the draw, Larry, but, "I'll have a chili dog with onion rings and a large Dr. Pepper."

"Are you still there?" I asked the speaker box, still a little irritated. 

"Yes, Sir, I got the chili dog, onion rings and Dr. P order, " the anonymous voice  replied.

"Okay," I said, looking at Derek in  surprise as I said, "add an order of the onion rings, and a quarter-pound burger with mustard and onions only, nothing else, plus a large Pepsi, easy on the ice."

"Got it," the voice replied almost instantaneously, surprising me again as he repeated each item of the order and gave me the total cost.

"Some smart-ass hi...kid," I said, hesitating in mid sentence and turning  to face Derek, who hadn't moved away.

"You were going to say 'high school kid' weren't you?" He said, smiling, his beautiful blue eyes twinkling.

"Well, yes, I was;  but, most of these restaurants hire high school kids during the summers," I replied, moving my arm up on the back of the seat and inhaling deeply..., "I love the new car smell," I said, exhaling explosively, trying to avoid any more discussion about high school kids.

"Ugh huh, so do I," he replied, grinning expressively, and running the tip of his finger up an down through the hair on the nape of my neck.

Shivering from the sensation his teasing created, I was about to chastise him when the drive through windows opened, and we heard, "that'll be eleven ninty-five."

I handed the teenage attendant a twenty dollar bill, and while making change he kept up a running commentary.  "New car, huh, I 'd give a left nut to be able to own a Monte Carlo, it's hot and sexy."

"I wouldn't go that far, but if you save your tips it might help," I said as he handed the change to me through the window.

"What tips?" He called out in a plaintive tone as I pulled away from the window.

"He's kind of cute, Larry."

"Are you kidding, D?" I replied, glancing at him. "He's only a kid, maybe sixteen or seventeen years old."

"Maybe," he responded snickering. "At least we know he has one nut. How far to the park?"

"It's about fifteen minutes if you still want to go there."

"I do, Larry.  I didn't know there was a city park like the one you've described, and I'd like to see it," he replied anxiously, balancing our sweating drink containers between his legs.  "What are the picnic areas like, are there any other recreational facilities, and did the chapel ever get built?"

"It took quite a while but, they did just about everything Old Man Devoe wanted," I said. "They built two soft-ball fields, horse-shoe pitching pits, swings and teeter-totters for the kids, and two public rest rooms located on so they are easily accessible . I'm not sure if the city officials realized it or not but, when they built the private picnic areas, they created hidden lovers nests, and that's where all the high school kids went.

The city planners and architects did a great job in designing the park around the small chapel that Mr. DeVoe had built before his and his wife's demise.  The DeVoe family was of French Huguenot ancestry, and followed Calvinism.   The plain granite features of the chapel are devoid of emblems and icons reflecting the beliefs of the early and present day Calvinists.  When the chapel was being built, Mr. DeVoe indicated to his minister that he wanted the chapel consecrated as non-denominational, open to people of all faiths.   The chapel surprises most people, it is not as large as it appears to be when you first see it.  The chapel interior is only large enough to hold four people and a minister.  The crypts for Mr. Devoe and  his wife were, in actuality the alter, and a communion rail with thick pads where two people could kneel and pray had been installed facing the alter. The only religious icon permitted was a stone crucifix. Beyond the alter, a stained glass window containing the DeVoe family crest had been installed, and two stained glass windows on either wall contained the French Fleur-de-Lis surrounded by a golden blaze. 

At first, a lot of people complained about the size of the chapel, and the newspapers ridiculed it, declaring that it was a cold, featureless mausoleum for Byron DeVoe and his wife.  Ignoring the circumstances surrounding the chapels building and the parks establishment, the editors of the newspaper attempted to organize a drive to have it dismantled and relocated to a nearby cemetery, claiming that a private mausoleum should not have been built in a public park.  Everyone knew it was the DeVoe heirs and the real estate developers that were behind it. The editorials ran for several days before quietly disappearing from the commentary page of the newspaper.  Some of the more comical locals tried to say it was the DeVoe ghost that convinced the editors to discontinue their ridiculous tirade but everyone knew that the city council was the power behind the cessation of the articles. They did not want to give the DeVoe heirs an opportunity to revive their original objections and possibly lose the park and its trust fund." I said, breathing in deeply and, slowing down as we approached the park entrance.
* * * * * * * * * *
 Following the directional signs, we drove to the picnic groves. Several were being used, and noisy, laughing kids were scampering between picnic tables and swings.  Music of various types and in varying volumes could be heard competing; and, ignoring their wives and kids, there were several pot-bellied, shirtless men sporting hairy and nude chests sprawled around with friends in aluminum framed canvas back and bottom chairs engaged in loud conversation and swilling beer.  We by-passed those and continued driving until we found one grove that was vacant.  .

"How's this, D?" I asked, creeping up to the entrance. 

"It looks okay,," he answered, as he looked around.  "We can walk over to the chapel after we've eaten."

The small chapel was in a line with the picnic spot we had selected.  It was situated at the edge of the roadway in the middle of a grove of pine and oak trees at the bottom of a shallow grass-covered incline.  We could hear the birds chirping in the trees, and in the distance the faint noise made by the portable radios and kids.  The thickness of trees and various types of bushes muffled most of the noise around us in the park and from the city. 

Derek was looking in various directions around the park, and I could see the wheels turning as he ate and sipped his drink. Derek's mind was a study in perpetual motion, and I had learned that when he sat quietly, his beautiful blue eyes shifting around contemplatively, he was building a plan or filing information away for sometime in the future.

"Derek, baby," I said softly.  'Want to tell me what's on your mind?"

He hesitated briefly before answering, looking out the car window as he wrapped up the left overs from his lunch.  "I was thinking about what you said about some of the townspeople objecting to the building of a mausoleum in a park, and the heirs of Mr. DeVoe wanting to prevent the building of both the park and chapel," he answered, looking at me with a twinkle in his eyes.  "They didn't succeed, did they?"

"Not really," I replied, chuckling at the meaning of his observations. "Want to walk down to the chapel?"

"I wouldn't miss it," he said, gathering up empty drink cups and trash, as we exited the car.

* * * * * * * * * *

Etched into the granite lintel above two oaken doors that were almost the entire width of the front wall, the words 'Open to those of all faiths' greeted entrants. The interior of the chapel with its vaulted ceiling was considerably cooler than the outside, and with the twin doors closed the silence was deafening. The color filtered sunlight shining through the stained glass windows reflected off of pure white plaster interior and the milk white marble mausoleum alter.  The stone crucifix sat in the center of the alter, and on a narrow ledge to the rear of the chapel, someone had placed two brass multi-candle candelabras.  The names of Mr. DeVoe and his wife were clearly etched in gold into the marble sarcophagus with the dates of their deaths.  With the exception of a stone baptismal font to the right of the entrance, the only furniture was the wooden communion railing with it's padded riser base for kneeling.

Derek took my hand, and walking to the communion rail we knelt with bowed heads.  After a few seconds of contemplative silence, he turned toward me still gripping my hand within his, he said, "I guess this little chapel is as close as we can ever really solidify loving each other, Larry."

"I guess," I responded, an emotional feeling of peace and belonging sweeping over me as I gazed into the deep indigo blue of his eyes.  "We didn't need to be in a chapel for God to know it,  D.  I've thanked him ever since we first met."

"So have I," he whispered as we stood taking each other in our arms, our lips joining in a long gentle kiss of commitment.

We stood with our heads resting on each others shoulders, holding each other tightly in a surreal - almost ecclesiastical atmosphere.  I don't know if it was being in the chapel or because of my imagination, but there seemed to be a power flowing between us that did more than solidify a feeling of total love. it sealed the bond between us.  When we lifted our heads and looked into each others eyes, I was sure of it when in a tone that conveyed an irrevocable commitment, he said, "I love you." 

It was an overwhelming moment but, I didn't hesitate in saying, "Until the day we die, I belong to you."

"I knew that," he whispered as we kissed, our bodies melding as one.

* * * * * * * * * *