Date: Thu, 01 Mar 2001 21:37:59 -0800
From: Lael Stalnaker <vanyelashkev@pacbell.net>
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