Date: Thu, 01 Mar 2001 21:37:59 -0800 From: Lael Stalnaker Subject: Valentine's Day Surprise: Part 1 of 2 This is a work of fiction and therefore not real in any sense. It is intended for adults and not for the casual (or not so casual) perusal of minors. If same-sex pairs, in sexual situations, offends your delicate sensiblities, then I suggest those sensiblities exit this page posthaste. It is the sole responsibility of the reader to determine the legality of reading this fiction; thereby taking on the decision to continue reading is of your own free will and desire. Comments can be directed to me at: vanyelashkev@pacbell.net All email will be answered, though no guarantee on a timely manner! *grin* If you ache for more of my writing, try "Birthday Plans" in High School, "Near Collision" in Sci- fi/Fantasy, and/or "Picture Perfect" (Co-written with Fred Cole) in High School. I have others, but these should hold ya until you can ask for them. *bigger grin* *Note* This was the hardest writing I have ever done. It is totally beyond my own scope of experiences and is actually one of the few pieces of 'pure' fiction I have ever written. Most of my writing usually has some element of my past in it. Be gentle in your appraisal of this poor effort. I am still deciding how I will proceed and end this one. I now go back to my regularly scheduled writing... :) "Valentine's Day Surprise" By Lael Stalnaker Part One of Two *********************************************************** Trevor sat with his back against the ancient oak. Memories flooded as the bark pressed in his back. The oak overlooked a swimming hole that had seen generations of use. It was a deep bend in a brook that meandered its way through the countryside on its way to merging with the faster paced river miles farther down. This stretch was nearly still, though with deepness rather than lack of motion. Not many knew about this specific spot. A secret handed down from father to sons over countless years; it sometimes went years without the sound of young voices ringing in the clear air. Trevor had not been here often over the last 6 years. It had just not been the same since his best friend Mark had moved too far to visit. They had spent many of their summers laughing and horsing around the oak and in the water. Mark and Trevor had met in kindergarten and became instant friends. Where one went, the other followed, often into the very jaws of trouble. Though they lived a far distance apart, their parents had liked the depth of their friendship and went out of their way to help it along. Mark's parent's worked in the larger city about 40 miles farther than the smaller town of Bedford. They liked the community and chose to commute. They also wanted their son to be in a safer environment than the city could offer. Trevor's parents were the last link in a long list of farmers, owning the last privately owned farm in the county. Trevor and Mark had acres and acres of land to wander and explore, including a small wooded stretch. And this brook that ran along the edge of the property. Trevor's father had come with them the first few times, making sure that both boys could swim well. After that, he left them to their own devices, only requiring that someone be told if they came out to swim. Memories of hide and seek in the woods wafted through Trevor's head. It had always thrilled them. Sitting here under the tree, coring apples with pocketknives. Sharing stories of things that happened when they were separated. Rebuilding the ancient tree house among the huge tree limbs. Generally being best friends. Trevor missed that most. Sure, he had some friends, but no one so close. No one ever seemed to have all the right qualities to achieve that special place in his heart and mind. Only Mark, who moved at the end of their 12th summer. And just when things were getting interesting. Trevor stared down at his hands. An old-fashioned cut lace Valentine lay on his cupped palms. It had been in his locker at the end of the day at school. He hadn't opened it until he was on the bus home. He had never gotten a handmade Valentine before. Usually, just the run of the mill store bought ones. This one was stunningly beautiful. It reminded him of snowflakes in winter, at least the ones that you folded up and then cut out. Except, this was true artwork. The white lace was cut into a perfect heart. Deep red card stock had been used to back it. The entire backside of the card was also lace. The inside had carefully cut letters, again from lace. It was the message that stunned him. Look under the stone between the roots of the swimming oak. I left something there for you. It wasn't signed. Someone had gone through a lot of trouble to make the card. Trevor had gone immediately to the oak, telling his Mom he wanted to think for a while before homework and chores. After telling him to be back by dark, she had gone back to making dinner without another word. The oak looked lonely. Trevor had quit coming out here very much after the first summer without Mark. It had felt wrong to bring any of his newer friends out here. As if it might somehow tarnish his memories. He wanted those memories to stay just the way they were without new ones pushing them aside. When he wanted to think was about the only time he came here any more. He had gone directly to the tree and sat facing the icy water. Before he looked under the stone, he couldn't help but remember that last summer. It filled his thoughts a lot. Especially when he came here. ****** Trevor was bored. They had already tried fishing, but even the minnows were off somewhere else, it seemed. He tossed his pole onto the bank and turned to watch Mark. Mark was squirreling around in the branches of the tree, long since bored with fishing. The afternoon sun beat down on them, making even the shade of the oak feel sweltering. Trevor scratched at his sweaty pits and decided to ditch the shirt. Maybe a breeze would come up and save the day. Maybe not. Still, he wished he had remembered to bring some swim trunks out with him. His Mom would kill them both if they came back soaking wet, yet again. He tugged the shirt over his head and then flung it over a low-lying branch. It felt a little better, but the air was still sick with heat. Mark scrambled down the side of the tree and landed next to Trevor. They were of a height, though opposing in most else. Mark had a barrel chest with broad shoulders, slim waist and longish legs. Almost gave him the appearance of being top heavy. Trevor had a long narrow body, with an overall beanpole physique. Both boys had brownish hair, though the sun streaked blond into Mark's and red into Trevor's. Dark brown eyes examined everything around Trevor, while Mark's startling green always seemed turned inward. Mark's body got a grudging tint of tan each summer, while Trevor turned a deep golden-brown. "Wanna swim?" asked Mark as he pulled his own shirt off. "Yeah, but we left our trunks up at the house. I don't feel like goin' back and then here again," grumbled Trevor. "Who ever said we had to have trunks? Let's just go in," said Mark. "Mom'll kill us if we show up all wet again. I guess we should go back to the house." "Well, we could just go in our underwear. Then we put our shorts back on and she'll never know." "Oh that would work... except for one itty-bitty little problem. I didn't wear any today. It was too hot and they're too tight." "Oh!" Mark looked thoughtful. "Come on, let's head back," sighed Trevor. "No, wait. Does anyone ever come out here? I mean 'sides us?" asked Mark. "I haven't seen anyone ever since we've been coming here, but you'd know, wouldn't ya?" "Naw, no one ever comes here. Dad won't without asking either. He said something about 'Every boy should have his Tom Sawyer spot to do anything or nothing at all.' He even made Mom promise to not come down here checking on me unless I was really late. So, no, no one," answered Trevor, now curious where Mark was going with this. "Cool! Then why don't we skinny-dip then? That saves our clothes and we still can swim!" explained Mark. "Oh! Yeah, that would work." Both boys rushed to the rope that was tied in the upper reaches of the tree. Once there, they stripped down, tossing clothes up into the branches to keep the dust and dirt off of them. Trevor found himself examining Mark once they both got down to nothing but skin. Mark was staring at his crotch and it vaguely disturbed him. Trevor looked down and noticed right away what fascinated Mark. "Never seen a tan-line before, bozo?" challenged Trevor. "Sure I have! It's just... I didn't realize how white you really are! It looks like you have white shorts on!" Mark started to giggle. Trevor started to retort, but realized that since Mark didn't really tan, there wasn't much of a line on him. "Let's swim!" Trevor said as he grabbed the rope. With a running jump, he swung out over the water and let go. He tucked his arms and legs in just before he hit the water with a gigantic splash. Seconds later another splash followed. They swam for a while and then laid out on the stream bank to dry off in the afternoon sun. The barest of breezes came up and lifted the last of the moisture from their bodies. It also caused a totally different effect for Trevor. As the air shifted over his crotch, he felt his dick harden. He glanced over to Mark, hoping that the event had gone unnoticed. When he found Mark watching in fascination, he knew that he should get dressed. Then he saw that Mark was slowly getting hard as he continued to stare at Trevor's body. Mark nearly jumped as he finally saw Trevor watching him. His face flushed, deepening to a brilliant red that stood out against his skin tone. Trevor was intrigued that Mark's dick got even harder, faster, now that Mark knew he was observed. Trevor was impressed. He had only recently started paying attention to that part of his own body as something other than a 'pee stick', as his mother called it when he was still little. "Wow!" Trevor commented in a whisper as Mark reached his full size. He felt a twinge from his own erection as he stared at Mark's. Still mesmerized, Trevor reached over the short distance between them and measured Mark against his palm. With his hand edge flat on Mark's groin, Trevor lifted Mark's erection and let it fall against his palm. The end of it cleared his hand by about an inch, or so he guessed. He let his thumb trace the edge of Mark's circumcision scar. Trevor nearly jumped out of his skin as the warm hardness twitched against his open hand. He froze. It had just dawned on him that he had his friend's dick in his hand without so much as a by your leave. Trevor's eyes came up to Mark's. Mark was watching, his mouth slightly open in wonder. Trevor found himself unable to move. Mark's mouth finally closed and the eyes began to twinkle with mischief that had been his trademark since they first met. "What are you doing?" Mark asked. After a long pause, continuing, "Don't stop though, that felt really good." Mark reached across Trevor's outstretched arm and lifted Trevor's erection. They were nearly identical in size, though Trevor was slightly bigger around. Mark rubbed his thumb on Trevor the same way it had been done to him. Trevor gasped at the sensation that followed the movement of Mark's hand. Mark was right, that felt awesome. Trevor grasped Mark more firmly, noticing the texture beneath his fingers: smooth, taut and still soft somehow over the rigidness underneath the surface. The skin slid on that hardness, though not really much. Trevor found himself fascinated. Mark was equally enthralled. Mark began to slide his hand along his friend's shaft, wanting to see if it felt the same its entire length. The back edge of his hand sank down into the even softer skin of Trevor's nutsack. The front of his hand was tickled by the faint scattering of reddish hairs coming in above Trevor's dick. Trevor twitched in his hand as Mark touched his ball. The feeling intensified. He copied Mark and ran his hand down the shaft in his grip until he too had reached bottom. Then he went one better and ran his hand back up Mark's pole until the tip was barely in the bottom of his palm. Mark's breath caught in his throat. He quickly returned the favor. Both boys were totally caught up in the feelings that were stuttering and surging with each motion of their partner's respective hand. Trevor's eyes were now halfway closed while Mark's were wide but nearly unseeing. A short time later both bodies went stiff as they reached the peak of what they could take. Trevor flinched, as the nerves became too sensitive to be stroked, Mark let go at the same time that Trevor did. Trevor stared at the back of his hand. A thick whitish liquid ran down his fingers. He had just started having that stuff come out of him a couple of months before. It was a relief to know that it wasn't just him. He glanced at Mark, who was also looking at his own hand. Trevor grinned and wiped his hand on Mark's chest. "Ewww!" Mark gasped. "Well, it's yours! Just giving it back!" Trevor grinned. Mark quickly flipped his own hand over and smeared it onto Trevor's face. Trevor started laughing as he tried to get away from Mark's hand. They rapidly descended into a wrestling match that ended up with them back in the brook. After giving up on dunking each other, they went back onto the bank to dry off. "That was so cool!" Mark enthused. "Yeah, it felt neat. We could do that again, if you want," Trevor offered. "Sure, but not right now, ok? I'm tired. 'Sides we should get back to your house soon. I'm hungry!" "Ok, let's head back then," agreed Trevor. They dressed quickly and ran their fingers through their hair to get a semblance of order back. The hike back to the house was carefree and quick. Lunch waited for them on the table. ******* Trevor smiled to himself as he remembered that first time. They had not really thought beyond the amazement and pleasure it had brought them. It had felt totally natural. In fact, they had treated it as a new game, to be played at every opportunity. In spite of it being no big deal, they were still cautious about making sure no on else was around. It was their own private thing, not for anyone else. His smile broadened as he remembered the first time it had gotten past that point. At least, past just jacking each other off. Yet another 'accident' had shown them an even better game that they both liked even more. Again, it happened out here at the oak. Trevor let his eyes shut, using the effect to bring the memory into better focus of his mind's eye. They had rebuilt the ancient tree house that prior generations of boys had started years before. The oak was large enough and strong enough to support a substantial multilevel structure with ease. Trevor's Dad came out and tested all of the older wood for rot and supervised the boys' efforts. Within a week of nonstop labor, they had refurbished the tree house into a very stable, long lasting structure that would last another 20 years. They were incredibly proud of the end result. Trevor's Dad pronounced it safe enough for a maximum of 10 kids. It started with a small platform about 10 feet up, at the crook of the tree's first major split. This platform led up to 2 others, one that had 3 major branches for support and another that had 4. The largest platform was 10 feet across each way, and 6-foot high walls. Huge windows were cut into each of the four walls. Waterproofed canvas could be unrolled to cover each, or pulled all the way up to let in any stray bit of breeze. The entrance was a 3 by 4 foot hole in the floor, leading up from one of the support branches from the second area. The next level down was only 6 foot by 8 foot. The other 3 main branches supported it. They made this into a storage area, lining all the walls with shelves for storing whatever the boys wanted to keep out by the water. Trevor's Dad even built in a space for an ice-chest. They kept their fishing supplies there, along with BB guns, toys, comic books, a couple of old sleeping bags, some old clothes in case it got cold and other odds and ends. The first level was a place to leave muddy shoes and wet clothes. It was 5 foot by 6 foot. They also had a pulley system set up for reaching the bottom of the tree from here. It was about 10 feet down to the ground from this first level. Simple pieces of scrap wood formed a sparse ladder up through the floor into this section. The age of the tree still left major parts of it free for climbing and of course, their rope for swinging out into the water. Both boys were excellent climbers and loved spending hours scrambling all over the tree. Their construction job was so good that 6 years later, the tree house showed no signs of weathering on the inside. The outside was hardly graying with the weather. Trevor still came out here, though very rarely. Mostly when he wanted to be alone. He also wanted to make sure that the tree house stayed in fair condition. Everything was still there, just as it had been that summer. Trevor's eyes stayed closed as he thought back to the day they discovered a new game, up in the tree house. It was a month after that day in the water and on the bank. ****** Mark sat on the rug that Trevor's Mom had donated to the tree house. It was an old worn pseudo Persian, long since exiled from active use. It covered most of the floor of the top level of the tree house. She had been concerned about splinters from the wood floor. Trevor had shrugged and taken it. They were sitting across from each other, reading comic books. Trevor was fond of Spiderman and Batman, while Mark favored X-Men and Superman. They had read nonstop for several hours, going from book to book, fascinated. Trevor's collection was fairly large and he was proud that he had most of the current ones that they both liked. "Have you noticed how they draw the guys?" Mark asked, looking up from the one in his hands. "What do you mean?" asked Trevor, slightly puzzled. "Well, look close. See what I mean?" Mark reached over and pointed at Spiderman's crotch. Trevor looked more closely and then giggled. "Yeah, I see what ya mean." Trevor leafed through the rest of the book and then reached into the stack of already looked at books. Random sampling showed that the images were consistent. All of the male characters were drawn with bulging muscles and even bigger bulges in the tight costumes. "I wonder what they would look like naked," murmured Mark. "Really big!" laughed Trevor. "Wanna mess around some more?" Talking about superheroes naked had given him a hard on. "Sure!" Mark was more than happy to play their favorite game yet again. Trevor shrugged out of his clothes, shedding them faster than a dog sprays off water when shaking. In seconds, he was down to the skin he was born with. Mark was only seconds behind him. They pushed the comic books into a pile out of the way and lay down next to each other. Trevor grinned as an idea popped into his head. Mark was really ticklish and now totally off guard. Trevor rolled over onto Mark and began his assault on Mark's nerves. Mark gasped and then broke out into a fit of giggles as Trevor tickled every piece of bare skin he could get his wandering hands on. Mark wasn't sure how Trevor had managed to straddle his chest, but there was no denying that a bare butt was now planted solidly on his stomach. He could feel Trevor's balls against his skin, which secretly thrilled him. Trevor was delighted with the success of his sneak attack, then gasped himself as Mark finally got enough breath to tickle back. Trevor tried to flip himself backward to get out of reach just as Mark bucked his hips up to try and stop him. The result was not what either of them expected. Trevor landed on his side, sliding down off of Mark. His mouth, opening with laughter, grazed the side of Mark's stiff erection as Trevor landed with his face in Mark's crotch. Trevor's tongue slid along the smooth skin, flicking involuntarily as Mark's erection came in contact just before impacting Trevor's cheek with Mark's groin. Mark froze, amazed at how good that had felt. Trevor, intrigued with the accidental taste of Mark, flicked out his tongue and took a long slow lick up the shaft. Trevor licked again, identifying all of the tastes. Salty from sweat, just a bit bitter from whatever soap Mark used that morning, and something else that Trevor couldn't identify at all, though not unpleasant. He decided that was just Mark himself. He ran his tongue back down again, exploring the bumps and ridges along Mark's shaft. Trevor's hand reached up and gripped the shaft firmly. It had been twitching and jumping, making it difficult to really lick continuously. Pausing, Trevor looked up at Mark's face. Mark's eyes were shut, mouth hanging open, breathing fast and shallow. His hands were dug into the carpet and his back arched a little. Trevor was amazed. Then he grinned. He had found something else that looked like a new game. Trevor licked around the area that he knew was most sensitive, watching Mark's face as he did it. Mark's body writhed beneath him. His face was a study in ecstasy. "Oh god, Trev, don't stop!" moaned Mark. Trevor was pleased that it had gone over so well. He stroked Mark as he ran his tongue around and around the tip. Mark quivered violently as Trevor kept going. Mark's back suddenly arched even more and his shaft pushed into Trevor's mouth completely. Trevor started to back off, then thought of a better idea. He treated the shaft in his mouth like a melting popsicle and sucked as he pulled back up. Mark almost bucked clear off of the floor as Trevor reached the tip. Mark was lost in the wonder of the new experience. He couldn't believe how good it felt. His hands clutched at the rug and his back spasmed up and down reflexively. Trevor continued to suck on him, opening his mouth wide and taking all of Mark into his mouth, then sucking hard as he pulled back up. Every so often Trevor stopped and licked all around the head. Mark could feel a rising tide from deep in his balls that soon reached the breaking point. "Trev... I'm gonna...." whispered Mark. Trevor was on an upward stroke with his mouth as he heard Mark almost cry out. The shaft between his lips grew harder yet and shuddered. Just as he reached the head, it spewed forth. Liquid, viscous and salty, flowed over his tongue in spurts, each stronger than the last, flooding his mouth. He swallowed instinctively, not knowing what else to do. The fluid slid down his throat, making him feel odd. After a short time, Mark collapsed back down onto the rug and lay still. His breathing was ragged and his eyes closed. "You OK? Did I hurt you?" asked Trevor, suddenly concerned. "I'm great! That was way better than what we usually do. I have to show you now, fair is fair," said Mark. Mark opened his eyes and sat up, using one elbow to brace himself. Wonder and happiness shone from his face. He reached out and wiped a trace of white liquid from Trevor's lip. Absentmindedly, he wiped his hand on the carpet. Trevor's face was flushed and hot looking. Mark sat up all the way and gently pushed Trevor down onto his back. Taking Trevor into his head, he leaned into him and began licking Trevor's shaft. Trevor knew immediately what Mark had meant. The feelings were electric, jolts running along every nerve in his groin. He had never imagined that anything could feel this good. His head sank back onto the rug and he let all of his muscles go slack, concentrating on his hard on in Mark's mouth. Mark had moved on quickly to sucking Trevor in and out of his mouth. Instead of opening his mouth to go back down, he simply sucked back the way he had gone. It intensified the effect that Trevor had found for him. Within a very few minutes, Trevor felt the powerful pull of his balls up to his shaft and then exploded before he could say anything. All of him was in Mark's mouth, who had his nose buried in his groin at that moment. Mark began to gag as the fluid took up all the leftover space in his mouth. He swallowed quickly to keep from choking. Once his mouth was clear, he gave Trevor a last parting lick before releasing him. Mark laid his head on Trevor's flat stomach and watched his friend's face. "Wow! That was awesome!" whispered Trevor. "I know. I like that even better than jackin' each other off. It felt weird swallowing that stuff though. Kinda like when snot runs down the back of your throat," said Mark. "Ewwww! That's gross, Mark!" "Well, that's what it felt like! I wish we'd figured this out sooner," said Mark. "Me too." Trevor yawned. "I'm sleepy all of a sudden." "Yeah, me too." Trevor fell asleep with Mark's head still lying comfortably on his stomach. His hand strayed over and rested on Mark's ankle. Mark followed him into sleep soon after. The afternoon sun shifted light over them as it progressed. Not even a breeze stirred the leaves overhead and the only sound was that of the boys' deep shallow breaths. ******** Trevor opened his eyes again and smiled. He could still remember clearly the feelings that had swept through him that day and every one after that they had done it. Their newfound fun was not long lived. Mark's parents announced their imminent divorce and that Mark's Mom would be moving back to the city, Mark in tow. Mark's Dad would be keeping the house here, while his mother got a new one closer to her work. Trevor had been devastated. His best friend was gone. Mark had argued fiercely to remain with his father, but both of his parents felt it best to have him stay with her. Trevor's own parents were dumbfounded and unable to console him. Promises were made about the boys being brought together for vacations and the following summer. Those promises faded into the background of everyday life, overwhelmed by the logistics of visitation weekends and other plans. Neither of them had done more than talk on the phone or write occasional letters back and forth. As they got older things grew more complicated. Communication got even sparser, their lives filled with day to day stuff that took time away from keeping in contact. Things had reached a nadir over the last 2 years. They exchanged cards on major holidays and talked on the phone maybe once a year now. Mark was involved and immersed in school sports, while Trevor filled his days with studying, keeping his astonishing 4.0 grade average stable. He had managed to achieve it in middle school and was loath to let it go. When Trevor started dating, he felt odd. Everything always came back to Mark and that last summer. He liked the girls he dated, but found that he wasn't really interested in them. When he was 16, he found out for sure. He was dating Holly Macmillan at the time. She was hot to trot and finally cornered him into having sex. He was able to get through the act but only by holding Mark and that summer firmly in his mind, with his eyes closed tight against reality. When he and Holly finally broke up, Trevor decided not to date any more. It was accepted around campus that she had broken his heart, though untrue, and to leave him alone. He occasionally had stirrings within, but the objects of his attractions always reminded him of Mark in some way. In retreat, he turned completely to studying. Mark never talked about dating or girls with Trevor during their rare phone conversations. Their last conversation had happened over Christmas break and oddly, Mark had asked about how the old tree house was holding up. Trevor's eyes widened and he began to have a suspicion about the Valentine in his lap. He scrambled around to the other side of the tree and found the rock between the roots. This had been where he and Mark stashed treasures, as boys defined the term. Trevor had cleaned it out years ago. Trevor grabbed the piece of flat granite and pulled it up, his hands trembling. His hands froze as he saw the folded piece of red construction paper lying safely in the nest between the gnarled roots. His heart pounded out of control as he picked the paper up. The rock tilted and fell back into place, forgotten, as Trevor opened the paper. A simple 3-word message puzzled him until he followed their instruction. He looked straight up. Directly over his head, a minor branch of the oak reached out from the main trunk. A red construction paper arrow pointed at the top level of the tree house. Trevor would never have noticed it without the instructions under the rock. Clear fishing twine held the arrow snugly to the bottom of the branch, unnoticeable from any distance. Trevor's vague suspicion was becoming certainty. He went back to the other side of the tree and ascended quickly up the crude scrap ladder. Once onto the first level, he found a pair of hiking boots sitting off to the side and windbreaker on one of the coat-hooks. He knew that they weren't his. Trevor then noticed an 8 by 11 flat white box sitting beneath the ladder up to the second level. It had a red ribbon wrapped around it and his name in those same lace letters from the card. He opened it quickly and pushed aside the red tissue. Folded into the tissue was a comic book, the very same one that he had been reading that day he had just thought about. Certainty galvanized his thoughts and he scrambled up the ladder to second level of the tree house. At the foot of the ladder to the third level, a plain but beautiful white rose bud. Trevor picked it up and put it gently with the comic book in the box. The Valentine and other note also went in with it. Then he slowly climbed the ladder to the final level. His heart beat so fast now that he thought it might explode. Trevor's head came up through the floor and he almost lost his grip on the ladder. He was right. Mark was here. Sitting cross-legged, a comic book in his lap, Mark grinned at him. Trevor hurriedly came up the rest of the way and flung himself at Mark. "Hey stranger, long time no see!" laughed Mark as he hugged Trevor tightly to him. "How the hell did you get out here? Why all of the mysterious shit? How come you didn't tell me you were coming? Do my parents know you're here?" Trevor's questions flooded out. "One, I drove. Two, I wanted to surprise you today. Three, refer back to two. Four, yeah they know," grinned Mark. "Smart ass!" Trevor punched Mark in the arm solidly. "Ow! You didn't have to do that!" protested Mark, feigning real hurt. "Why didn't I see your car when I got home? And when the hell did YOU get a car?" "It's parked out behind the woods. I told your folks I wanted to surprise ya and they went along with it. My parents actually stopped arguing with each other long enough to get together and buy me a car for Christmas. This is the first trip out of the city and my parent's sight. I wanted it to be for something special. Guess that makes you the lucky recipient of me." Mark smiled. Trevor only now realized that Mark's arms were still around him. His cheeks flushed scarlet. He carefully pulled back and sat next to Mark. He looked into Mark's eyes, searching for something, but unsure what exactly he thought would be there. Mark's smile deepened and he nodded slowly. Trevor's pulse was slamming through his veins now. All of the puzzle pieces fell into a new order and made a picture for him. Mark was here for a reason. Trevor's breath caught in his throat. *********************************************************** To be concluded in Part Two