Date: Tue, 24 Nov 2009 10:33:56 -0500
From: perti@live.com
Subject: Dermot II, Chapter 1

This story is fiction.  Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is
purely coincidental.  These stories have as their main character a sexually
active gay teenager.  If this is offensive to you, or if it is illegal in
your area, or if you are under age, please leave now.

Constructive criticism is welcome on my e-mail at perti@live.com.

____________________________________________________________________


Dermot II
Chapter 1, The Mall

     Dermot woke up early on Saturday morning.  This was the day he would
leave the hospital, which had been his home for the past three weeks, his
only home since being thrown out by Uncle Steve more than nine months
earlier.  Even Nurse Hoffman could not dampen his enthusiasm this morning.
He was going to be living with Lando!  Well, there was Lando's family, too,
but they definitely took a back seat in Dermot's imagination of what life
would be like from here on.  The forefront of his imagination was totally
dominated by the figure of Lando, the beautiful boy who had walked into his
life and turned everything upside down.  Until the day Lando appeared, life
had been something to struggle through, to endure.  Now, it was beginning
to look like, to feel like, something to enjoy.  Dermot had not felt this
good since his mother became seriously ill more than six years earlier.
     Breakfast went by without even being noticed.  Unusually for a
Saturday, Dr. Shipley made an appearance as soon as Dermot had finished his
early repast.
     "Well, Dermot, it looks like we'll finally be getting rid of you," the
physician kidded.
     "I know I've been a pain in the butt, and I can't say I'm sorry to be
leaving," Dermot replied, "but I really appreciate all you guys have done
for me."
     "Fact is, I'll kind of miss seeing you each morning.  You've become
something of a pet around here, you know," the doctor informed the boy.
     "That goes for me, too," said Dr. Rygalski.  "Oh, and Jerry sends his
best wishes.  He says he'll miss my stories of my favorite patient."
     "You tell your little brother to hang in there," Dermot responded.
"One of these days, we'll get together and plot against you."
     Dr. Rygalski gave a convincing impression of stark terror.  "If that
happens, the world will never be the same again," she predicted.
     Dermot was sent up to be x-rayed again, and had a session with his
physical therapist, who left with him a detailed program of exercises to
make sure his leg healed properly, and he regained full use of his wrist.
Returning to his room he found Walt Lyle in consultation with Dr. Shipley.
Then, the world brightened still further as Lando danced into the room,
once again announcing his presence with a happy "Hi, boyfriend!"
     Dr. Shipley, Dr. Rygalski, and Walt Lyle laughed at Lando's
exuberance, and, even though Nurse Hoffman pursed her lips in disapproval,
the room lit up.  "Hi, yourself, boyfriend!" Dermot returned.
     Dr. Shipley gave Dermot his last examination, a thorough one which
seemed to take forever.  He was provided with the kind of casts which
strapped on, so he could be more comfortable, especially when sleeping, and
could change clothes more easily.  The results of his x- rays were examined
and explained in detail, both to Dermot and to Walt Lyle, who, Dermot
suddenly realized, was now his legal guardian, accepting responsibility for
him like the father he had lost.  Once the examination was complete,
Dr. Shipley and Mr. Lyle went into conference mode, while Dermot was told
to dress.
     Dress!  He had not been out of hospital gowns in three weeks!  While
on the street, Dermot considered himself a pretty sharp dresser.  Almost
none of the clothing he had worn when he had been ejected from Uncle
Steve's house remained.  Somehow, he managed to clothe himself, partly with
items purchased from the thrift stores with income from his hustling, and
partly with things lifted from stores while no one was looking.  But, when
he was handed his bundle of garments on that Saturday morning, he was
surprised to find just how tawdry it all looked.  Nothing fit properly, for
one thing.  It was either too tight or too loose, or just the wrong shape.
And the colors all were washed out, faded.  The only thing which made
donning these garments a pleasure rather than a real downer was the
presence of Lando.  As their elders conferred, Lando helped Dermot remove
his hospital gown, and then whistled at his nude body.
     "Hey, looks like I'm getting a hot boyfriend," Lando kidded.
     Dermot turned red.  He had stripped often enough for customers, but
this was different.  He really cared what Lando thought about him, and he
thought he looked pretty lame, with a cast around his chest, and not being
able to use his left leg or right wrist, and all white and pale from the
winter weather and his time in the hospital.  Besides, his physique was not
all that impressive.  He was thin, unhealthily thin, not only from his time
on the streets, but from the meager diet his uncle had prescribed for
everyone except himself and cousin Zach, who was given special
consideration because he needed to keep his strength up as a member of the
football team.  Dermot also had red hair, which was now growing out in a
totally unruly manner, and his face was spattered with freckles.  None of
this had ever struck him as hot.  How many teen idols were redheads?  And
skinny?  Dermot thought he looked entirely too much like what he was,
namely working class Irish.  Never before had he thought he was hot.  But,
when he noticed that Lando was giving him a thorough scan while handing him
his clothes, he began to get hard.  Here he was, for the first time,
entirely naked in the presence of this beautiful boy who called him
boyfriend.  He had not even realized it when he stripped.  The critical
moment had passed without the proper trumpets playing and fireworks.
Dermot looked at Lando, and realized that the other boy had not missed the
moment at all.  Lando was looking at him with something like hunger, like a
wolf who had just seen a tasty lamb.
     Dermot could not help it.  Seeing Lando's lust caused him to get hard.
Totally embarrassed, he found himself frozen, unable to continue dressing,
unable to ignore the eyes which took in every inch of his body, and
fastened on his crotch.  With a mind of its own, Dermot's cock rose to
greet Lando, stretching to its full six and a half inches.  Not bad for an
almost sixteen year old.  It had earned Dermot his keep for many months.
Now, it was like the headlight shining in the eyes of the deer.  Lando
seemed unable to take his eyes away from it, and as long as Lando stared,
Dermot could not continue dressing, much less get his equipment under
control.
     "Do you need help dressing?"
     The sharp voice of Nurse Hoffman cut through the moment, bringing both
boys back to the present.
     "No.  I'm fine," Dermot insisted, as he quickly deflated.
     He grabbed the underwear next to him, and pulled them on, with Lando
helping with his leg.  Then he donned the shirt, jeans, socks, and shoes he
had been wearing the night he had been assaulted and sent into the
hospital.  They had been carefully washed by the hospital, of course, but
somehow they looked different, and much less impressive, than Dermot
remembered.  Dermot was embarrassed to have Lando see him in this poor
ensemble, although his boyfriend made no comment as he helped him dress.
Over the leg of his jeans, his cast was strapped on tightly, and another
attached to his right wrist.
     The discussions completed, and the final scrap of paper signed, it was
time to leave the hospital.  Nurse Hoffman insisted that he had to leave in
a wheel chair, despite Dermot's insistence that he could do just fine with
the crutches supplied him.  An orderly appeared with a chair, and, rather
than prolong the process by arguing, Dermot allowed himself to be wheeled
out to the entrance.  He was accompanied by Mr. Lyle, but Lando had
disappeared a few minutes before, while he was struggling with the wheel
chair.  Then, as they perched on the sidewalk at the hospital entrance, a
golden chariot roared around the corner and came to a halt before them.  A
grinning Lando popped out of the driver's side, and rushed around to open
the passenger door.  Just as he promised, Lando was driving his Mustang,
and was going to give Dermot a ride.
     Amid several warnings about safe driving, Walt Lyle released Dermot to
his lover.  As Dermot settled into his seat, and looked at the boy getting
into the driver's seat, he realized that they were, indeed, lovers, even
though they had not as yet done anything more physical than kissing.  The
lust he had seen in Lando's eyes while he was naked was something Dermot
had experienced before from his customers, but the love he saw in Lando's
eyes as he laughed at him was something entirely new.  No customer had ever
looked at him like this.  Lando leaned over, and, as though by magic, as
naturally as iron is drawn to a magnet, Dermot responded.  Their lips met.
There were bands playing after all, and fireworks, and stars twinkling in
the heavens, and banners flying.
     BEEP!!!
     There was also a vehicle behind them wanting to pull through the drop
off area in front of the hospital door.
     Flushed, the boys separated, and Lando released the brake.  They were
off!
     Dermot was not familiar with the route they were taking.  "Where are
we going?" he asked.
     "To the mall," Lando responded, as though it were the most obvious
thing in the world.  "I can't have my boyfriend looking like a reject from
the Salvation Army."
     "Gee thanks," Dermot pouted.
     "Just the clothes.  The boy inside is totally acceptable anywhere,"
Lando assured him.
     "Which mall?"
     "Oxbridge."
     That was one Dermot had never visited, locate in a more exclusive part
of town, and boasting stores like Aeropostale, Calvin Klein, and Tommy
Hilfinger.
     "Hey, no need to over do it.  Walmart will be fine."
     "No way, Jos‚!  I am going to dress you the way you deserve, and
you're not going to deprive me of the pleasure," Lando insisted.
     "Don't get carried away."
     "I have every intention of getting carried away.  And I plan to use
the little plastic card I have in my wallet until it melts from the heat,"
Lando laughed.
     "You have your own credit card?" Dermot asked with something like awe.
     "Well, it has my name on it, but Dad pays the bills," Lando admitted.
"But he told me to make sure you got some nice clothes as a birthday
present."
     Dermot settled into the comfortable bucket seat of the Mustang, and
contemplated getting nice clothes.  Not just ordinary nice, but cool nice.
He had dreamed of that more than once over the years, but never really
expected it to happen.  He was still enjoying the thought when Lando pulled
into the parking lot in front of the main entrance to Oxbridge Mall.  It
was just on ten o'clock, so all the stores should be open on this Saturday
morning.
     The two boys enjoyed a frenzy of shopping.  Naturally, with Dermot's
leg and wrist in a cast, Lando had to help him actually try on clothes,
which led to some intimate touches, and a good deal of giggling.  By
eleven-thirty, they had devastated three stores, and were in one of the
more ordinary outlets searching for just the right kinds of jeans.  At
their entrance, they were greeted by a nice looking young man, but he was
shunted aside by a rather pushy female clerk, who evidently was more
senior, and claimed the prospective sale.  Ignoring this, the boys began to
try on jeans.  Lando insisted on at least one pair of tight fitting jeans,
but Dermot protested that he was too thin, and intended to fill out.
     "Not a problem," Lando insisted.  "When you become the Hulk, we'll
just get you another pair which fit."
     This whole attitude was a revelation to Dermot, who had always had to
be very conscious of getting clothing which would last and serve many
purposes.  They snagged three possible styles, and retreated to the
dressing rooms.  Amid considerable racy comment and much giggling, Lando
assisted Dermot to remove his leg cast and try on the jeans.  The second
pair was both comfortable and showed off Dermot's package in a way which
left Lando mesmerized.  He caressed Dermot's privates, not even pretending
it was an accidental brush, and in a husky voice said, "I think these will
do."
     Dermot laughed.  "If you keep that up, we'll have to buy this pair,
since I will have soiled them so they cannot be returned."
     "You keep that pair on," Lando instructed.  "Heads will turn as we
walk down the mall."
     "Won't that make you jealous?" Dermot teased.
     "No way.  I know you're mine."
     Lando leaned in, about to kiss his boyfriend, when suddenly the
curtain to the dressing room was pulled back, and a strident voice
demanded, "What kind of perversion is going on in here?  The sign clearly
says one person at a time in the dressing rooms."
     "What are you suggesting?" an angry Lando demanded.
     "Well, it looks pretty obvious to me," the pushy female clerk
insisted.  "We have to keep a sharp lookout for deviants like you, but this
is a respectable establishment."
     "My friend needs help ...."
     "Not that kind of help in here."
     While Lando was dealing with the clerk, Dermot assessed their
intruder.  The clerk was an older woman, probably in her fifties, stout,
frumpy, with greying hair and unattractive glasses on a chain around her
neck.  She was the sort of clerk Dermot had avoided when he was trying to
supplement his wardrobe during his street time.  He found her intimidating,
but Lando obviously did not.
     When Dermot's attention returned to the altercation between the clerk
and his boyfriend, he found Lando an entirely different person than he had
experienced him before.  Here was the Prince of the Blood Royal, ticking
off an impertinent peon.
     "Madam, I find your insinuations offensive and intrusive.  I demand
that you summon the manager at once."
     "I am perfectly capable ...."
     "At once!"
     To Dermot's amazement, the clerk backed down.  She retreated, followed
closely by Lando, leaving Dermot without his cast, so he could not make
part of the procession.  He need not have worried.  Two minutes later
footsteps returned.  With a grand gesture, Lando swept aside the curtain.
     "As even an idiot can easily see, my friend has a cast on leg and
wrist, and is in need of assistance when trying on your garments.  Your
clerk..."  The word was enunciated so as to give the impression that she
was something like gum sticking on the bottom of one's shoe.  "... chose to
place a lurid interpretation on that assistance.  Here," Lando said,
producing his credit card, "you can see that I am Roland Cartwright Lyle.
Perhaps you have heard of my father, Walter Marcus Lyle IV."  The names
rolled off his tongue like a cannonade.  "We have never been subjected to
this like of harassment when shopping here before.  Perhaps we should look
elsewhere in the future."
     "On no, sir!  I'm sure there was a mistake.  Mrs. Stringer surely did
not mean to imply ...."
     "She most assuredly did.  She was quite clear about what she meant to
imply.  I will do no business with her, and if you want our continued
patronage, I will not see her as we complete our purchases.  There was a
very polite young man who greeted us when we arrived, but this intolerable
harpy dismissed him in an insulting manner.  We will deal with him."
     "Yes, sir.  That will be fine, sir.  We certainly wish to accommodate
you and your family.  I assure you, we all have the highest regard for
Mr. Lyle," the manager insisted.
     "Yes, yes, yes.  May we finish our fitting without further
interruption now?" Lando dismissed him.
     "Of course, sir."
     Lando peremptorily pulled the curtain closed.  He waited, facing away
from Dermot.  The footsteps of the manager receded.  Lando turned around,
and burst out laughing.
     "Boy!" Dermot said, "remind me never to tick you off!"
     "Don't worry, boyfriend.  There's no way you could get my dander up
like that pretentious and prejudiced clerk or that smarmy manager.  You're
genuine, but they're just cardboard.  Let's finish up here and grab some
lunch."
     "Lunch!  You mean I get to eat real food, too!  Wow, that's too much
for one day!"  Dermot exaggerated, putting on a devoted puppy expression.
     "Cut the crap, boyfriend," Lando demanded.
     "Yes, Your Lordship.  Yes sir.  Whatever you say, sir."
     Lando punched Dermot in his left shoulder hard.
     "Ow!  You're taking advantage of an invalid!"
     "That was your good shoulder, idiot!  You should be glad it wasn't
your mouth, after that obnoxious imitation of that obsequious manager."
     "You're right.  Lunch!"
     The boys completed their purchases, assisted by the young male clerk,
and departed to the food court.  Dermot's mouth watered from the smells
while they were still several stores away.
     "Real food!  Real food!" he chanted, as they approached, to the
delight of Lando, who was almost bent double with laughter.
     Lando helped Dermot get settled at a table, and then they looked
around at the offerings of the various food outlets.  Dermot decided on
pizza and Coke, so Lando went off to make the purchase.
     While he was waiting, Dermot looked around, enjoying the feeling of
well-being that came from being out of the hospital, and in the company of
Lando.  As he gazed around, with no particular focus, he became aware that
he was being observed.  Looking more closely, he located woman and a middle
aged man, who seemed unable to take his eyes off Dermot.  Those eyes were
filled with apprehension.  It took a few moments, but Dermot finally placed
him as a trick he had serviced about two months ago, and again a week
later.  Looking at him now, it was pretty clear that the john was about to
shit his pants with fear that Dermot would out him to the woman, presumably
his wife, who accompanied him.  Dermot recalled that the man had paid, and
even included a nice tip, and had demanded nothing humiliating or harmful.
So, he had no reason to cause trouble.  He looked away, seeking out Lando
at the Pizza Hut counter.  When next he looked in the other direction, the
man was gone.  This raised an unexpected issue.  Dermot might be recognized
by other former customers, who would not be so reluctant to acknowledge the
past.
     When Lando returned, Dermot described his recent experience.  They
discussed it briefly, but could come to no conclusion.  Lando suggested,
"When we got home, we can ask Dad about this."  That seemed both comforting
and frightening to Dermot, but it was the best they could do.  Somehow,
while they were discussing this matter, their pizza had disappeared, so
Lando returned to the counter for a second helping.  Dermot reveled in the
knowledge that he could have seconds if he wanted.
     After eating, Lando led Dermot to a hair dresser located in the mall
who advertised that walk-ins were welcome.  There, his shaggy growth of the
past three weeks was at least partly tamed, and he had to admit that he
looked better.  It was the first haircut from a stylist he had ever
received, and, even though Lando promised a 'real' haircut in the future,
Dermot was more than pleased with the outcome.
     The last store visited after lunch was an exclusive men's store.
Lando insisted that Dermot needed a suit and dress shoes for special
occasions.  Dermot was reluctant, because in his mind a suit was associated
with attending the pentecostal church his Uncle Steve belonged to, but no
sooner had they entered and caught the attention of a clerk than he knew
this was something different.  No cheap, ill-fitting suit off the rack was
intended.  The clerk, and elderly man, recognized Lando and greeted him by
name.  He was helpful without being obsequious.  Dermot had the unique
experience of being measured for the first time, with tsk-tsk-ing about his
thin frame, and subtle comments about letting out the seams when he put on
some weight.  Lando vetoed Dermot's first two choices of pattern, finally
approving a nice brown tweedy pattern.  Shoes were fitted, with appropriate
socks.  The white athletic socks Dermot was wearing were unceremoniously
removed by Lando, and replaced with muted browns as well.  Then, Dermot
tried walking in the shoes chosen for him by his boyfriend.  It was a bit
awkward, because of the crutches, but the shoes actually felt comfortable,
contrary to what Dermot expected.  The shoes and socks were paid for, as
was a dress shirt and tie, but the suit would have to be called for when it
had been altered to fit.  This was an entirely new shopping experience for
Dermot.
     It was about two in the afternoon when the boys made their way back to
Lando's Mustang.  Dermot expressed his appreciation, but Lando insisted
that he had enjoyed it was much as he.  "I can be really bossy sometimes.
You don't have to do everything I say, you know," Lando informed him.
     "I wouldn't dare rouse the dander of that autocrat I saw back before
lunch," Dermot said, half teasing, but half serious.
     "I told you, that's for idiots, idiot!" Lando teased back.
     They piled into the car, and took off for Dermot's new home, the Lyle
residence.