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.
There is a religious element in these stories. If you don't like that, maybe now is a good time to leave.
Constructive criticism is welcome on my e-mail at perti@live.com.
Dermot II Chapter 2, Lyle House
On their ride from the mall to the home of the Lyles, Dermot and Lando joked around, enjoying each other's company. It was only when they were approaching Lando's home that Dermot noticed that they were not all that far from Third Street and the Cardinal Tavern, where he had been picked up the night he was assaulted by four guys.
"Hey, you guys don't live around here, do you?" he asked.
"Yeah, actually we do. It's a really mixed neighborhood. I know there are some houses that have been cut up into cheap apartments, and some empty lots, but this area was actually top of the line when it was first built, back in the 1880s and 1890s. That's when my great-great- great-grandfather built our house. It's been in the family ever since. My great grandfather had it when I was a kid, and we lived out in the suburbs. When he died, my grandfather did not want to move in here, but Mom and Dad decided to take it on. We've been here since I was ... let me see ... eight I think. I like it. We've got lots of room, and I like the feeling of having the ancestors around. It's almost like having a friendly ghost at home. The only drawback is we have to go to the Club to swim. When we were out farther, we had a pool in the back yard."
"Oh, poor baby," Dermot sarcastically sympathized.
"Oh, shut up! We're here, anyway," Lando said, as he manoeuvered his Mustang down an alley, then stopped behind a brick building with stone quoins and lintels, and pressed a remote. Dermot noted there were four doors, and, when Lando pulled in, he noted space for four automobiles, only one other being currently occupied.
"You guys have four cars?" Dermot asked.
"Yeah. I see Mark and Dad are not here. Don't know what we'll do in a few years when Emily gets her license. We've got two years to figure that out, I guess," Lando replied nonchalantly.
Once again, Dermot had the feeling he was in a different world than the one he had known up til now.
They collected their purchases, and made their way out of the carriage house. As they did, Dermot noted stairs leading up. He had noticed before that there was an upper floor, and mentioned that.
"Yeah. This is the carriage house. When it was built, they actually had carriages and horses in here, and servants living on the second floor. It's been a garage forever, though. And now the second floor is just for storage. All our junk ends up there. Shame we can't put Emily's car there," he added maliciously, and laughed at his own joke, but Dermot was too awed to catch the humor.
He walked as though in a trance through a small but nicely manicured back lawn, with an ancient oak tree, lawn furniture, and flower beds, all surrounded by an eight foot wall of brick. The carriage house spread across the entire back of the property, and the main house seemed to take up most of the width of the lot at the other end of the yard. The yard was sunny, neat, and very private.
Lando helped Dermot up a few steps onto an enclosed back porch, which he called the veranda, and through the door into a hallway. A couple of steps into the house resulted in the appearance from their right of a large black woman, which took Dermot completely by surprise. At first it flashed through his mind that they were in the wrong house, but Lando greeted the woman with a hug, and called her Aunt Carrie.
"Aunt Carrie, this is Dermot. I might have mentioned him before."
"Mentioned him! Lands, you talked non-stop about him for weeks. Glad to finally meet you, Dermot. I'm in charge around here, so you behave yourself."
Totally confused, Dermot glanced at Lando, then said meekly, "Yes, Ma'am."
Lando laughed. "Aunt Carrie takes care of the house, and makes the greatest meals you can imagine. She is executive chef number one. You'll get to sample her wares at dinner this evening."
"The boy looks scared to death," Aunt Carrie noted. "I thought you said he was smart, but so far he's acting like that slow nephew of mine. Come here, boy, and greet me proper if you want your dinner," the woman said, as she extended her arms.
Lando gave Dermot a nudge, and he stumbled into Aunt Carrie's arms. The warm and comfortable bosom soon deprived him of his hesitations, and he returned the hug, relaxing and accepting the warm welcome.
"Sorry. I'm just totally spaced out by this whole house and everything. I've never been in a place like this before," Dermot explained.
"Well, you'd better get used to it, if you're going to be living here." Turning to Lando, she asked, "This is the boy you said would be staying with us, isn't it?"
"Yeah, Aunt Carrie, this really is Dermot. I've never seen him so speechless before. Normally he has a pretty decent command of the language," Lando joked.
Dermot turned on Lando. "You just be quiet! It's been an unusual day for me. First, I get out of the hospital, then I witness you ticking off a store clerk like you're the Emperor of China or something, then you bring me to this mansion and introduce me to this great cook without a word of warning. I'd like to see how you'd function if we were back in Uncle Steve's house."
"That's more like it," Aunt Carrie asserted. "If you're not careful, these Lyles will be running your life for you, especially this one. Now, you boys must be hungry, and it's a long time before dinner, so I'll whip up a little snack for you. Just you go into the breakfast room and settle in. And no backtalk from you, Mister Lando."
"Yes, Ma'am," Lando agreed grinning from ear to ear. He led Dermot into the room to the left of the hallway, which was a delightful, sunny room, with two walls made up mostly of windows, and a large round table in the center. Along one side was a spacious sideboard, on which were bowls of fruit. Lando piled his packages on the table and grabbed an apple.
"Help yourself. It might be all of five minutes before Aunt Carrie arrives with the supplies. There are always different fruits here for snacks if you want one." He indicated several bowls, containing not only apples but also bananas, oranges, and grapes.
Dermot also took an apple. "She's not really your aunt, is she?" he asked.
"No. We just call her that. Aunt Carrie has worked for us forever, I think. Her mother was housekeeper to my great-grandfather when he lived here, but when he died, she decided to retire, so Aunt Carrie took over. She's great. Just don't screw up."
"Like what?"
"Well, I remember tracking mud in here last fall after a soccer game. It happened to be right after she had mopped the floors back here. Man, I thought all the demons of hell were after me. She grabbed me and made me clean up the mess, giving me a royal tongue lashing the whole time. If you thought I was rough on that clerk, you should have heard Aunt Carrie," Lando laughed.
"Wow! Remind me never to tick her off, then."
At that point, Aunt Carrie reappeared, carrying a tray on which was a stack of sandwiches, some cookies, and two glasses of milk. The boys thanked her politely, and fell to with the appetites of teens, even though it had been only a few hours since their pizza at the mall. While they were eating, Lando's sister walked into the room and helped herself to an orange.
"Hi, Dermot," she said. "Glad my brother finally got you home. There for a while I thought he had lost the way."
"We had to stop by the mall, little one," Lando responded.
"Is that something that goes along with being gay?" Emily asked.
"What? You say the stupidest things," Lando asserted.
"No I don't. Mark hates shopping, but you like it almost as much as Mom and me. So, I just asked," she insisted.
Dermot laughed at his friend's discomfort at the hands of his younger sister. "Lando was just being nice to me. He thought I was too ragged to be seen in the Lyle mansion."
"Mansion? This isn't a mansion. It's just our house," Emily stated with surprise.
"All depends on what you're comparing it to," Dermot replied. "To me, it's a mansion."
"Whatever," Emily dismissed the topic. "Mom said a Mrs. Harper called, and is coming to see you around four o'clock. Oh, happy birthday, Dermot. And I like the jeans."
"My birthday isn't until tomorrow," Dermot corrected her. "What does Mrs. Harper want?"
"Don't know. Ask Mom," Emily said, concentrating on eating her orange without making a mess on herself. As an afterthought, she added, "You sure about the birthday?"
Lando laughed. "I guess Dermot knows when his own birthday is."
"I guess," Emily reluctantly conceded.
"Come on, Dermot. I'll show you to your room, and we can stow these things away," Lando decided, noting that Dermot and he had polished off everything Aunt Carrie had provided. Dermot did note that Lando picked up the tray and glasses, and returned them to the kitchen on the way.
Just beyond the kitchen there was a staircase on the right leading up, which Lando began to ascend two steps at a time. Then, remembering his guest, he shamefacedly returned and began to help Dermot with his crutches. They ascended to a small landing, then turned around to continue their ascent, arriving on the second floor, which looked inviting, but Lando did not stop there. "Parents room and guest rooms," he muttered, as he continued to lead up another flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs, there was another corridor leading off to the right, dimly lit by light coming from windows at the ends. All along the corridor were a series of doors. They walked into the long corridor, and Lando pointed to a door to the immediate left. "Bathroom," he said. He pointed down the hall. "Emily is down the hall on the far right, in the northwest corner, with her own bathroom. Across from her is the tower room, with me next on the south side of the hall, then Mark, and here," pointing to the room across from the boys' bathroom, "is your room. Next to Emily's bathroom, across from Mark and me, is the play room." Lando blushed. "That sounds lame, but we called it that ever since we moved in. Not much there these days, but it's a nice big room." He covered his embarrassment at calling it the play room by marching up to the door designated as Dermot's room, and shoving it open. Dermot hobbled up and looked in.
The room was about sixteen by sixteen, with nine and a half foot ceilings. There were windows on two sides, directly across from the door and to the left, with both being adorned with dark green drapes. The walls were a light green color, with an off-white ceiling. To the left was a double bed, covered with a green spread matching the drapes, with a small bedside table and lamp next to it, and there were also chairs, a desk, and a chest of drawers. The desk sported a computer. On the right hand wall was a closet door, with a full length mirror built into the door. Dermot was breathless. Not since he moved in with his Uncle Steve more than three years ago had he had his own room, and then it was about half the size of this one.
"Wow! This is really all mine?" Dermot asked.
"All yours. Unless, of course, you want to ask your cousin Zach to share it with you, for old time's sake," Lando teased.
Dermot released some of his pent up emotions by dropping his crutches and parcels and tackling Lando, taking the other boy entirely by surprise. He landed on top of Lando on the hard wood floor covered by thick carpets. They were rolling about on the floor, when a voice cut through the grunts they were making.
"I'm glad to see you're enjoying your room, Dermot, but that might not be what Dr. Shipley had in mind for rehabilitation," Sandy Lyle announced, with a broad smile. After all, they were just boys.
The two protagonists sheepishly parted.
Breathlessly, Dermot replied, "Yes, Ma'am. It's wonderful. Much better than anything I ever had before. Thank you and Mr. Lyle for having me."
"We're glad you're here. Now, I have some news for you. Mrs. Harper called earlier, and will be coming by in about an hour or so to discuss your schooling. My husband will be back from his pilgrimage to the golf course by then."
"Oh, thanks. Emily told us Mrs. Harper was coming, but did not know why," Dermot said, still panting a bit from his tussle with Lando.
"Lando, you have strewn packages all over the floor," Sandy admonished her son. "You'll have everything mussed and wrinkled before they're even worn."
"Not my fault, Mom. I was attacked by a wild Irishman," Lando defended himself.
"Well, let's see what you have. Help Dermot up."
And so the next half hour was spent going over all their mall purchases and putting things away in drawers and closet. Dermot regaled Mrs. Lyle with an account of Lando's handling of the obnoxious clerk, which caused his boyfriend to blush and Sandy to raise her eyebrows. Then, Sandy left, taking Lando with her. She evidently wanted his account of the incident with the clerk, or maybe to discuss rolling on the floor with a boy who was supposed to be recovering from multiple broken bones. Dermot looked around the room his room hugged himself, and threw himself onto his bed, just contemplating his good fortune.
He had drifted off to sleep when Lando came back to fetch him around four o'clock.
"Mrs. Harper is downstairs. Come on, I'll give you a piggy back ride down the stairs," Lando offered.
"Here I am less than a day and already he's trying to assassinate me," Dermot said, rolling his eyes up to heaven. "Just let me throw some water on my face to help me wake up, and then we can walk note I said walk downstairs."
"Okay. I was just trying to be helpful."
"How come? Did your mom get after you for taking advantage of an invalid earlier?"
Lando blushed. "As a matter of fact, she did. I don't think moms understand sometimes."
Dermot laughed.
Lando led Dermot down to the second floor, but instead of continuing down what he called the back stairs, they walked down the hall to a grand staircase, wider, with shallower risers, and a wide dark wood bannister. That made it easier for Dermot to negociate the stairs down to the first floor, where they arrived in the front hall. This was a spacious open area, paneled in dark wood, with a fireplace, and several interesting paintings on the walls. Dermot had little time to observe the room, however, as both Walt Lyle and Natalie Harper appeared in a doorway to the left.
"Come this way, Dermot," Walt invited, leading him down a short corridor to another doorway. "I think this will be the most convenient place for consulting with Mrs. Harper about your schooling."
Dermot entered, followed by Lando. The room was considerably larger than his bedroom, with its own fireplace, and bookshelves from ceiling to waist high cabinets along two walls. There was an old fashioned roll top desk, with the top up, and a more modern computer station, with two latest model computers. Before the fireplace were several comfortable looking chairs, and under the windows, set in a bay, was a large library table, on which was perched a globe, and some straight backed chairs. It looked like a set from a movie Dermot had seen once, but he could not recall off hand what movie that was.
Walt invited Dermot to take one of the chairs by the library table, on which were scattered several papers, pamphlets, and catalogues. Mrs. Harper sat next to him, with Mr. Lyle more to one side, indicating it was Mrs. Harper's show.
"Dermot, we've talked about this before, and you have all the books corresponding to your projected classes for a sophomore in the public school system. I guess the first thing we need to settle is where you will be attending school. As I see it, there are three options. You can be home schooled, which might be easiest on you, seeing that you have been out for most of the school year. Second, we can register you at one of the public high schools. The closest one, I guess, would be Atherton. In that case, I will go with you on Monday to make sure you don't run into too many snags. A third possibility, mentioned by Mr. Lyle, is that you attend Baltimore. He can help you there."
Dermot had not really thought about where he would be attending school. He looked confused. Lando would be in school all day. He sort of thought he would be with his boyfriend, but had not thought about where. There were two things which immediately popped into his head when Baltimore was mentioned. First, it was a private school, with tuition. Second, it was a Catholic school.
"I don't know," he confessed. "I guess I should have been thinking about this, but I just thought about going to school with Lando," he said, looking back towards his boyfriend.
"Yeah, that would be cool," Lando immediately seconded the thought.
"But ...."
"Yes, there are several considerations. Mr. Lyle is on the Board of Trustees at Baltimore, so I'll let him explain," Mrs. Harper said.
From down the table, Walt Lyle spoke up. "As Mrs. Harper said, I'm on the Board, so there should be no difficulty about getting you accepted, if that is where you decide you want to go. I think it's fair to say the academic standards are somewhat higher than at the public schools, but your records from the past indicate you can do the work. We will have to discuss how to fit you in with only about two months of school left, though. Now, I know your reservations about things Catholic, Dermot, so let me hasten to assure you that you will not be pressured to join the Church. We have many non-Catholic students at Baltimore. However, there are some required classes in religion. There are some options, though, so I think we can work out a schedule that you will find acceptable. For example, this term Lando is in a class called something like 'The Life of Jesus.'"
"It's 'Jesus in the Gospels,' Dad," Lando amplified. "We read the accounts in the four Gospels and add in some stuff from archaeology and stuff to give some background. I can show you my textbook if you want."
"I'm not sure I believe any of that stuff any more," Dermot murmured.
"As I said, there will be no pressure to join the Church. Likewise, there will be no pressure to force our beliefs on you. You will be expected to learn the material, but no one will ask whether you believe it. If you want, just think of it as learning what others believe," Walt assured him. "In the same way, we can find enough courses to satisfy the requirements without putting you in a situation where you might be expected to participate in Catholic beliefs. Here," he said, indicating one of the catalogues on the table, "are the courses offered by the Religion Department. I note a History of the Church course which lasts two semesters. You say you like history, so this might be a good selection. And again, no one will demand that you accept Catholic teaching. Just regard it as another history course. Do you think you can deal with that?"
Dermot was looking uneasy. Living with the Lyles might be difficult once the religion issue came up, and having it in school as well just might be too much. He was about to ask about the public school, when he caught sight of Lando. Lando was leaning over his father's shoulder, looking at Dermot with eager expectation. The boy wanted Dermot in his school. He wanted that badly. Suddenly, Dermot felt that, with Lando at his side, he could put up with anything.
"I think I could deal with that, especially if Lando is there to give me a hand," he said. "But Baltimore is expensive, isn't it?"
"We are looking into your financial situation as part of our investigation of your uncle, but until that is worked out, there are scholarships available for students with financial needs, and, well, as your guardians Sandy and I will make sure any shortfall is covered. Don't worry about that side of things," Walt said.
Don't worry about money! Dermot had never heard that before. His Uncle Steve was always complaining about how much things cost, and especially anything for Dermot. But, remembering Lando and his credit card at the mall, and looking at the room he was in, he decided to take Mr. Lyle at his word.
"Okay, then. Baltimore it is."
"All right!" cheered Lando, pumping his arm.
"That takes care of my primary concern at this point," Mrs. Harper said. "As long as you are enrolled in some acceptable academic program, the state is satisfied."
"On Monday, I will go to the school with you, and see that you get registered, and signed up for appropriate classes," Mr. Lyle said. Turning to his son, he asked, "What is your schedule of classes? If we get Dermot in as many as possible of the same classes, you can show him the ropes, and help him around until he gets off the crutches."
"I'll write it down and give it to you, Dad. Unless you want me to come with you to get Dermot registered."
"I think you can go to your own classes. The written schedule will be enough," Walt commented dryly.
These matters settled, Mrs. Harper took her leave. As Lando started to say something, Dermot suddenly burst out with "My Fair Lady!" Lando looked totally confused. "That's what this room reminds me of. In that movie there was this killer library, kind of like this one." So, while Walt was showing Mrs. Harper out, Lando showed Dermot the library.
"We do a lot of homework here. That's why we have two computers here, but you have one in your room, too. We all do. So which ever place you like, you can use. There are lots of reference works here, which makes it good for certain classes. Over here is an Encyclopedia Britannica, and a couple of dictionaries, and a Roget's, and some foreign language dictionaries. Here's Latin, French, German, and Spanish. I don't think anyone has taken any other language, so we don't have any other dictionaries. Over on this wall is Dad's collection of history books. Since you like history, you might find some interesting reading there. And over here is literature, since you like that, too. Dad's law books are at his office, of course, but he keeps a few reference works here as well. And Mark's math and science works are in that corner. He didn't like my idea that they be housed in the carriage house. I think you said you like mysteries. Mom is addicted to that genre as well, so we have a collection over here. And there are Emily's mushy romance novels."
"Wow, just about everything a guy could want. I'm going to love this room," Dermot predicted.
"Oh, one thing. No porn on these computers. Respect for others and all that. If you want to access porn, do it on the one in your room," Lando informed him.
"You mean there are no controls on those jobs?"
"No. The folks trust us not to overdo it. And we don't."
"Oh. Sure." Dermot wondered what constituted overdoing it.
Walt Lyle returned from seeing Mrs. Harper off. "Come this way, Dermot. I want to show you a few things before dinner."
"Oh, oh," Lando said. "Here come the ghosts."
"Huh?" Dermot asked.
"Never mind. You'll find out."
Dermot grabbed his crutches and followed Mr. Lyle out of the library, across the great hall, and into what was called the front parlor. That was kind of a misnomer, as there was no back parlor, but Lando later speculated that at one time the breakfast room had been called the back parlor. Mark thought it had been the library. Leading from the front hall into the front parlor was a wide double doorway, with doors that disappeared into the wall. There were so many things like this which Dermot wanted to stop and examine, but Walt continued on into the room, so Dermot figured he would have time to investigate later. The front parlor was another well proportioned room with a large fireplace in the wall facing the front of the house. To one side there was a semi-circular alcove, which looked perfect for private conversations. He noted that the ceilings were a good twelve feet, giving one a feeling of space and freedom.
"Here," Walt Lyle began, pointing to the portrait over the mantel, "is Gideon Lyle. He's my great-great-grandfather, the founder of the law firm, and the man who had this house built in 1883. I'm afraid he was a fairly typical Victorian, with solid respectability and narrow views on almost everything. Gideon died in 1909, and the house passed to his only surviving son, Walter the First. I say 'only surviving' because Walter was not the eldest son, nor the intended heir. There was an older son named Gideon, but he was killed during the Spanish-American War. Walter and his father did not get along well. One of the reasons was Walter married Mary Ann Spalding, a member of a very respectable family, but a Catholic. That's where our Catholicism comes from, and old Gideon did not like that at all. Family lore says father and son did not speak to each other from the day the engagement was announced until the day the old man died. Anyway, Walter also followed in the practice of law, and inherited the house and the firm. The old man's sense of dynasty was too strong to allow him to leave either to anyone else. Here, on this wall, is the double portrait of Walter Marcus Lyle, Sr. and his spouse, Mary Ann, nee Spalding. I like to think we inherited her good looks as well, and she does have a striking resemblance to Emily, or, I guess, the other way around. This good looking fellow is Captain Cuthbert Spalding, who served in the First Maryland Regiment of the Continental Army during our War for Independence. He was a friend of Charles Carroll of Carrollton, the signer of the Declaration of Independence and the richest man in the colonies. After the war, Captain Spalding received a land grant and moved here, which is the real foundation of our family's financial position. And over here ...."
"Dear, I think Dermot has seen enough for now, and dinner is almost ready," Sandy Lyle said, coming to the rescue. "If you would like to freshen up a bit before dinner, Lando will show you the powder room, Dermot."
"Yes, of course. Forgive me, I do get carried away. My wife is actually worse than I, but she manages to control it better," Walt apologized.
"No problem. This stuff is really interesting," Dermot politely responded, but he allowed Lando to escort him to the first floor powder room, where he washed his hands and again threw some water in his face. When he emerged, he found Mark and Emily as well as the others all assembled. Aunt Carrie appeared to announce that all was ready, and the entire family trooped into the dining room.
This room was located between the front parlor and the kitchen, on the north side of the ground floor. It was twenty-four by twenty, with the same twelve foot ceilings as the entire floor. There was a huge dark wood table, which looked like it could seat twenty or more people. Dermot later found that the maximum was actually two dozen. Walt Lyle sat at the head of the table, but Sandy sat at his right side, rather than at the foot, which was her place for formal meals. Lando and Dermot sat on the same side as Sandy, while Mark and Emily sat on the other side of the table. Before eating, Walt Lyle said grace, beginning with the Sign of the Cross, in which Dermot did not participate. Walt thanked God for food and family, and added a special thanks for the arrival of Dermot. Everyone responded 'Amen' except Dermot. Aunt Carrie brought in the various dishes, but the family served themselves. As Lando had promised, it was without exception the best meal Dermot had ever eaten, even though the family said it was a fairly typical example of Aunt Carrie's culinary skills. They had roasted chicken in a Burgundy sauce, green beans, new potatoes, preceded by a simple green salad with an Italian dressing and succeeded by sorbet for dessert.
Before they got to the dessert, Aunt Carrie stuck her head in to announce that she was finished in the kitchen. Walt looked to Mark, who nodded. "I'll be right there, Aunt Carrie,' Mark called.
"No rush. I'll just read my magazines," came the reply.
"Aunt Carrie is addicted to movie magazines, and stories about the stars," Lando explained to Dermot.
"Why is she waiting for Mark?"
"Oh, someone always drives her home. This week it's Mark's turn. It's not always safe on the streets, as you know. The Cardinal, where you were assaulted, is only three blocks away from where we are now."
"Hard to believe," Dermot commented.
After dinner, Lando showed Dermot the only room on the ground floor he had not yet visited. To the right of the main entrance, opposite the front parlor, was what was called the front sitting room. There was a small fireplace, but the distinguishing feature was the three quarters rounded protrusion which formed more than half the room. Lando explained that there was a tower, which ran up the entire three floors, and then extended another floor over the sitting room on the third floor, accessible only from that third floor room. On all three floors these tower rooms were called sitting rooms. They were seldom used, but were great for a quiet get-away on occasion, to read, or just to watch people pass by on the street. They could also be used for private conversations when the library and front parlor were in use. At Christmas time, they put the large tree in the first floor sitting room. It could be seen from three directions, coming, going, and across the street.
After all this splendor, Lando helped Dermot negociate the back stairs down to the basement level, where there was a rec room, a gym, and a sauna, as well as the usual furnace room, laundry, and work space. In the rec room was a wide screen plasma television, hooked up to the latest model game box. Lando and Dermot played video games for the next two hours, with Dermot attributing his poor performance to his injured right wrist.
"Poor performance my ass. You beat me two times out of three," Lando huffed.
"When I've recovered I'll beat you every time," Dermot returned.
"Humpf," Lando mumbled. "Let's take in the sauna before bed. I'll bet that will be good for your wrist, and probably your leg and side as well."
They made their way to the sauna, which included a hot tub and a room with dry heat. Lando locked the door, then told Dermot, "We don't need to wear anything as long as there's no danger of anyone interrupting us. Forgot to get you a swim suit at the mall this morning, but there are extras in various sizes in that cupboard in the corner."
Not for the first time that day, Lando helped Dermot to undress, but this time it was a complete strip. Once again, Dermot was painfully conscious of his unhealthy thinness, but Lando ignored it, either out of politeness or because it really did not matter to him. Dermot vowed to make good use of the gym next door. When he mentioned that, Lando said, "That reminds me of another house rule. Never come in here or in the gym alone. Too much danger of an accident with no one else around. In your condition, that goes double."
Dermot sank into the churning waters of the hot tub, and felt the tension oozing out of his body. He had been unaware of just how stressed he was, coping with his new environment. He was also pleasantly aware of the nude body of his boyfriend in the tub with him. Lando was in much better shape than he, with a nicely toned body, a flat abdomen, and a cute little treasure trail leading from just below his navel to his pubes. His hair here was darker than on his head, having a light brown cast to it. Naturally, Dermot took a hard look at Lando's equipment. Even flaccid, it looked inviting to the boy. Lando noticed Dermot scoping him out, and grinned broadly. When Dermot wrenched his eyes upward, and saw Lando's grin, he turned scarlet.
"It's all yours, boyfriend," Lando said. "But for now, just to look."
That did not help Dermot's chagrin.
After about fifteen minutes in the hot tub, they got out, Lando helping support Dermot. He thrilled to the feel of flesh on flesh. They settled in the steam cabinet for another fifteen minutes. Then they took a cold shower, and dried off.
Leaving the sauna room, the two made their way up the three flights of stairs to the top floor, where they parted. Dermot crawled into his comfortable bed, and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.