STANDARD WARNING: This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is pure coincidence. Do not read this story if you are offended by man-to-man romance or sex. Do not read if you are underage according to the laws in the country, state/province, county, city/town/village or township where you live. There is sex between males. You have been warned!

Copyright 2000 by archer. Permission is granted to Nifty Archives, ASSGM, and gaywritings, to post one copy. No part may be copied, reproduced, republished, or reposted on another website without written permission from the author.


Family Instincts

By Nick Archer

Chapter 5

St. Irenaeus Church had been built in 1964, at the end of Vatican II. It was a church that reflected the new direction in the Catholic Church that Pope John XXIII had begun. The building itself was free of ornamentation. Except for the huge mosaic behind the alter there was little in the way of ornamentation or decoration. Since it was still Lent, the altar was draped in purple.

The eighth grade CCD students were seated in front of the church. They were attending a special Reconciliation service. Catholicism differs from most Protestant denominations in that sins are professed to clergy. Most Protestants deem the clerical intermediary unnecessary. Protestants claim that Jesus paid the price for their sins, therefore, sins should be confessed only to God.

The church was darkened except for the altar area. Father Grimes appeared.

"Welcome to the Reconciliation Service. We arranged this time for you to celebrate the sacrament of Reconciliation before you make your Confirmation. Notice I used the word ‘celebrate.’ Most of you don’t associate the words Reconciliation and celebration. A celebration is a party, right?"

Some of the kids mumbled their agreement.

"Well, in a way God is celebrating your return just like the father in the story of the Prodigal Son celebrated his return with a party. God is knocking at your hearts now, asking to be let in. Will you let him in?"

"Reconciliation is simply removing the roadblocks between you and God so that you can have a closer relationship. We call those roadblocks sin. And once those roadblocks are gone, the celebration will begin!"

"Remember, you are not required to go to individual Confession. But think seriously about it. For most of you, this will be the last opportunity you have before you are confirmed. We have several other priests here to help so that we will finish before your parents arrive at 8:15. Of course, most of you know the Associate Pastor at St. Irenaeus, Father Mendez. Father Miller from St. Mary’s will be in the traditional confessional for those of you who chose to confess that way. On the right side of the altar is Father Majewski from St. Kieran in Chicago Heights. On the left side is Father Phillips from St. John’s in Glenwood. Father O’Donnell from St. Luke’s School for Boys is in the Cry Room." Brian made a mental note to say ‘hi’ to Father O’Donnell. "Father Mendez and I will be in the back of the church."

"For those of you who do not chose to go, or for those who have already gone and have completed your Penance, please pray silently for those who have not yet gone. Thank you."

He unhooked the wireless microphone, and strode to the back of the church. Mrs. Barringer turned on a cassette player softly. It played Pachebel’s Cannon in D. The other CCD teachers positioned themselves strategically to quell any disturbances.

The students looked at each other nervously. Everyone hesitated to go first. Brian and Jake were sitting next to each other cautiously looking out of the corners of their eyes. Their jeans-clad knees touched each other casually and their hands were folded in their laps. Brian caught glimpses of Jake and his face. It was rapidly healing, and he no longer wore a dressing on the wound. He no longer wore a dressing on his head, either. Jake had surprised everyone but Matt with his resilience. Matt knew that Jake was a very healthy boy and an athlete and would heal rapidly. The stitches on his head had gotten to the point where they started to itch. Next week, Jake had an appointment to have the stitches taken out. Tim had promised to take him to get a haircut once the stitches were out. He hoped the stylist would be able to conceal the shaved area of his scalp. Jake began to jiggle his leg. Brian touched his knee and shook his head ever so slightly. Jake stopped.

Brian could stand the wait no longer. It was time to get it over with. Suddenly, his legs were propelling him down the main aisle, toward Father Grimes! He caught glimpses of the other students as he strode toward the priest. He saw some of the kids whisper to one another. He’s brave for going first.

Father Grimes was looking down at the floor when Brian sat in the metal folding chair facing him.

Brian took a deep breath and plunged in. "Bless me Father, for I have sinned...."

His classmates watched surreptitiously. It was over in a matter of moments, and before Brian returned to his pew, Father Grimes stood and hugged him.

Brian returned to his spot and knelt on the kneeler. Jake saw him swipe at a tear as he began to pray his Penance. Brian’s action opened the floodgates and the other students followed suit. Brian finished praying and sat back in the pew. One by one the eighth graders finished. Both boys could hear some sniffling, but no one started to blatantly cry. Brian noticed one kid who was in his algebra class as school who didn’t go to confession. But he wasn’t the only one. Jake still had not gone.

Brian had begun to get bored. Mrs. Barringer replayed the same tape three times. He began to flip through the Monthly Missalette looking for songs he recognized.

"Aren’t you going?" Brian whispered to Jake.

Jake simply nodded. Brian glanced at his watch. It was five minutes after eight. If Jake was going to go, he had better do it now.

Finally, Jake got up and clumsily tripped over the kneeler. He headed for Father Grimes. Minutes seemed like hours to Brian. Most of the other students had finished and were now restless in the pews. Mrs. Barringer and the other CCD teachers tried in vain to keep them quiet while the last stragglers finished their confessions.

God, Jake’s been back there for a long time.

At 8:15, Mrs. Barringer whispered to the kids. "Thanks for being so patient. Please be quiet as you leave. There’s still a few in Confession."

They began to file out of the side church door nearest the school, although not as quietly as Mrs. Barringer had hoped. Brian remained in his pew, waiting for Jake. He could hear sobs. He turned around to see Jake with his head hanging. Father Grimes had a hand on his shoulder and was speaking earnestly in his ear.

"You can go, Brian," Mrs. Barringer said to him.

"I’m going to wait for my brother."

She smiled at him. She had a great deal of affection for this boy. It was her experience that boys as handsome as Brian were terribly conceited. But not Brian. He has a heart as big as all outdoors. It’s so sweet that he considers Jake his brother already. Matt Rosato had phoned me to explain the situation when Jake moved in with them. That was very smart of him to do. Matt is a terrific parent. And Brian is very special.

Jake stood and hugged Father Grimes. He was still crying. What had upset him so bad? I hope it’s not me, Brian thought. Brian approached them cautiously and stood at a safe distance. It was Confession, after all.

Father Grimes smiled at him over Jake’s shoulder. They released one another.

Brian put an arm around Jake’s shoulders. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah," he answered colorlessly. He pulled away and slipped into a pew. "I have to say my Penance. Tell dad – I mean, Matt – that I’ll be a few minutes."

Matt appeared at the church door. Brian strode down the aisle, genuflected at the altar, and hugged Matt.

"Why do you smell like dishwashing liquid?

"I’ll explain later."

Father Grimes appeared behind Brian. He shook Matt’s hand. "How are you, darling?"

"I’m good, Father, thanks."

"I always seem to be so busy, but I wanted a chance to talk to you about our plans for next school year."

"You mentioned something about that before, Father. What do you have in mind?"

"We’re going to reopen the school." Joseph Cardinal Bernardin had closed and consolidated many Catholic schools and parishes in the late eighties and early nineties. The vast majority were in the inner city, but some were as close as Chicago Heights. The Archdiocese hadn’t opened a new Catholic grade school in more than a decade.

"How is that possible, Father?" Brian inched closer to Matt and slipped his arm around Matt’s waist. Matt could always tell the level of comfort Brian had with other people by the amount of affection he would openly display. It was an easy equation; the more he trusted the third party, the more affection he would show Matt or Tim. In Matt’s mind, he obviously trusted Fr. Grimes.

"We’re going to be independent of the Archdiocese. It will be called South Suburban Catholic Academy."

"It’s an interesting concept, Father and I’ll probably send Tommy here once he comes to live with me full time. Brian will be in high school next year."

"I’m not telling you about SSCA because of the boys, although I certainly would like them to attend. I want you as a teacher here."

"Me? Go back to teaching? I don’t think so, Father. I like retail, except for the hours. And I like the fact that when I’m done for the day, I’m done. No homework and no lesson plans. And there are other issues, too."

"We can talk more about those other issues later, Matthew. But think about it. Pray about it. You have so much to offer kids."

Jake, who had obviously completed his Penance, wordlessly walked up to Matt and hugged him. Matt rubbed his back. "Are you OK, son?" he whispered.

Jake nodded into Matt’s chest.

"I’ll think about it Father."

"Thank you, Matthew. Be good, boys."


Matt and Tim had discovered that Monday nights were an ideal time to have sex, or just simply to cuddle and kiss. Tommy was back at St. Luke’s for the week and Brian and Jake were at CCD. Not that they didn’t show affection in front of the boys. But they found that they had to schedule time to spend with each other.

Tim was in an especially mischievous mood. Matt knew he was up to something when he playfully shooed Matt out the door to take the boys to CCD.

When Matt returned from St. Ireanaus, Tim greeted him at the door in his bathrobe.

"How was driving the Jeep?" Tim asked after he kissed his lover loudly.

"It’s fun. You’re so high off the ground." Matt had only recently started driving the Jeep. He had resisted for a long time, preferring to let Tim drive when they went somewhere as a family. He smiled at Tim. "Why are you in your robe? Going to bed already?"

Tim smiled from ear to ear. "Nope, I’ve got something else planned." He took Matt by the hand and led him upstairs.

The bathroom door was closed. When Tim opened it with a flourish, Matt was presented with Tim’s surprise. The light fixture was off. All around the bathroom were lit candles. They were on the toilet tank, on the vanity a few on the floor and around the bathtub. A cassette player was playing a nature sounds tape. The tub itself was filled with sudsy water.

"You are too much," Matt said as he kissed Tim.

"I went to a lot of effort to do this for you. And I expect to be paid handsomely." He started to pull off Matt’s clothes. "I wanted to do this when you were sick, but you were too busy waging war against the world. Here, sit on the toilet so I can take off your shoes."

Matt did as he was instructed. "I’m sorry about that, Tim."

Tim stopped and leveled a gaze at Matt. "I know you are. But wouldn’t it be wonderful if you didn’t have to apologize?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have to learn to control your temper. I love you with all my heart. And I love you despite your faults." He pulled off Matt’s socks. Tim rose up on his knees and ran his fingers through Matt’s chest hair. "Stand up."

Tim unfastened Matt’s pants and pulled them down. "Get into the tub."

"What did you use for bubble bath? It smells like citrus."

"Lemon Joy."

"Dishwashing liquid?"

"You’re soaking in it."

"Very funny, Madge."

With a big sea sponge, Tim began to wash Matt. Matt’s soapy, wet skin was slick and sensual under his fingers. They kissed often.

When Tim was finished soaping him up, Matt wrapped his arms around Tim’s neck and pulled him into the tub.

"Whoa! You’re going to get me all wet."

"That’s the idea, studboy." Tim shucked his soaking bathrobe and sat in Matt’s lap facing him. He wrapped his legs around Matt’s torso and his arms around his neck. He felt Matt’s erect penis poking his buttocks.

Tim reached behind himself and took Matt’s cock in his hand. "Fuck me, Matt." They both concentrated and finally Matt’s cock slipped into Tim.

"Fuck my hole, Matt." The water in the tub started to slosh as he increased his rhythm. "Yeah, that feels so hot." Tim’s eyes rolled up into his head. He let his head fall back. Tim’s Adam’s apple pointed at him. Matt was the bottom most of the time, but they both enjoyed switching roles on occasion. Matt fucked Tim with vigor. Tim’s tight hole gripped Matt’s cock. Matt felt the passion of the other man concentrated in his sphincter. The muscle almost seemed to tug at Matt’s cock as if it were urging his pole deeper into the other’s man’s love tunnel.

Tim reached orgasm first, and his cum washed off Matt’s belly in the water. Matt followed soon after.

They held each other for a long moment in the now-lukewarm water. Tim opened the drain as he untangled his limbs and stepped out of the tub. He tugged gently at Matt to help him out.

They turned on the shower to rinse the tub and each other. Matt kissed Tim. "Thank you for this. It was very romantic."

"And very hot."

"Yes, it was," Matt agreed. They doused the candles, wiped up the wet floor, and dried off their bodies and scooted to the bedroom to get dressed.

Now dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, Matt pulled Tim to him once again. His tongue probed the other man’s mouth. "I love you, Tim. Help me. Please help me."

"Help you to do what?"

"Help me control my temper. I hate myself when I get angry."

"I will, sweetheart. How about we develop a signal? Like when we used the tug on the ear? Remember that?"

Matt smiled. "Of course I do."

"I could use it on you when I think you are losing your temper."

"That’s a possibility."

Tim smacked his rump. "You better go pick up our sons."

"You two are quiet tonight," Matt commented as he drove them home. Both boys uncharacteristically sat in the back seat. Usually the passenger seat was a topic of battle.

He glanced at them through the rear view mirror. They were staring out the window on opposite sides of the Jeep. Matt decided he would not walk through their private thoughts with his adult feet.

Tim and Matt settled on the couch to watch some TV. Matt had his head on Tim’s lap and their hands were tangled in a knot. During commercials, they kissed passionately.

Both men were lulled into a delicious drowsy state. They were sated from sharing sex, and warmed from the bath. Outside, rain splattered against the windows and the temperature dropped. But they were warm and cozy in their affectionate position on the couch.

"I wonder what the boys are doing upstairs?"

Jake had to use the bathroom when they arrived home from CCD and he discovered the candles. He grabbed a votive candle and brought it into their bedroom.

Brian watched him as Jake removed a lighter from the desk and lit the candle.

"Where did you get the lighter?"

"I snagged it from Matt. Keep your mouth shut."

"No prob."

Jake stared into the candle without a word. He picked up the candle and sat cross-legged on the floor with the candle in front of him.

"What are you doing?"


"You’re getting into a weird area, here, Jake. I have to tell you that." Brian was also curious. Jake had never been especially religious and this change piqued Brian’s interest.

"Do you think you could vacate for a few minutes?"

Brian shrugged. "I guess." Instead, Brian stood at the door with his hand on the doorknob.

"Or you could do it with me."

Brian hesitated. It was like looking at the man behind the curtain in the Wizard of Oz. He wanted a glimpse of Jake’s interior landscape. But would that destroy the mystery?

"Turn off the light," Jake suggested.

Brian sat cross-legged across from Jake in the darkened bedroom with the candle between them.

"So what do we do now?"

"Father Grimes told me that we can pray about anything and God will hear our prayers."

"So what do you want to pray about?" Brian asked him.

Jake looked up and his eyes glistened with tears.

"What?" Brian asked softly. Jake’s hands were clenched. Brian took his hands and gently tried to open them.

Jake could only shake his head.

"Do you want to tell me what you talked to Father Grimes about?" Brian asked softly.

A very long silence followed. Brian thought that he hadn’t heard the question. "We talked about Matt and Tim and Tommy. My dad. And you."

"What about me?"

"How I feel about you."

Brian swallowed nervously. "What about me?"

"I love you."

"And I love you, too. You’re my brother."

Jake abruptly changed the subject. "I don’t want to leave."

Brian didn’t want to think about it, either. He moved closer to Jake and put his arm around him. Jake was choking back tears.

Brian had to think fast or he was going to start crying, too. Jake’s leaving was something he didn’t want to think about. He had an idea. He wasn’t very good at spontaneous prayer, but it seemed like a good time to try.

"Dear God," Brian began. "We thank you for this time together. We thank you for Matt and Tim who love us and take care of us. Thank you for Tommy who makes us laugh. We ask you for your," Brian struggled for a word, "guidance and care. Amen."

Well, he did it. It wasn’t ever going to be recited at Mass, but it would do.

Jake didn’t respond. His chin was still on his chest, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore.

"Tell me," Brian said to Jake, as he used his arm to shake him slightly. "Something else is on your mind. Spill it."

At last Jake raised his face to Brian. His eyes were red-rimmed and his nose puffy. "I love you more than a brother," he confessed.

Brian’s heart skipped a beat. Could it be true? The very thing Brian had hoped for. But, did he want it? Now that it was actually happening, could he trust his feelings? Could he trust Jake’s feelings? Matt had once said to him, "Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it."

"I didn’t want to fall in love with you," Jake blurted and began to cry anew. "I don’t want to be a faggot." Brian angrily removed his arm. "I’m sorry, Brian. I don’t want to be gay. But I can’t deny these feelings anymore."

Brian was speechless. Maybe it is best that he leaves. Outside, the rain intensified, and lurid flashes of lightning silhouetted the trees. Jake resumed gazing down at his knees. Finally, Brian stood up, retrieved some tissues from the bathroom and closed the bedroom door again.

While Jake blew his nose, Brian removed his clothes in the candlelight. He was sleepy from the expenditure of emotions. He slid in between the sheets on the lower bunk.

Jake also removed his clothes. Naked except for his shorts, he blew out the candle and placed it on the desk.

Jake’s voice asked in the dark, "Can I sleep with you?"


"Please, Brian? Just to cuddle. That’s all. I promise."

"Dad will whip our asses if he finds out."

"He won’t, I promise. I’ll lock the door."


Some giggling occurred while they repositioned themselves on the lower bunk. Brian was facing the wall and Jake had his chest pressed up against Brian’s back.

Jake’s erection pressed against Brian’s backside. He whispered, "You know, I might not be opposed to it after all."

"Opposed to what?"

"Kissing another guy."

"What do you mean?"

"If I was going to kiss another guy, there’s no one else I would rather try it with."

"You want to kiss me?"

"Yeah. Roll over."

They lay on the bed; bare chest to bare chest, legs entangled and faces inches apart. Jake closed his eyes and puckered up.

Their lips met.

"Could I just die now?" Brian swooned.

"What do you mean? Wasn’t it any good?"

Brian laughed. "It’s just an expression." He lowered his voice. Brian rolled over again. Jake pressed his chest to Brian’s back. We just kissed, Brian thought. I doubt Dad will get mad about it. It was a sweet, gentle kiss that made him feel warm all over. It was thrilling to think that he was the very first boy Jake had ever kissed, and Jake had chosen him. Brian was content to be held by Jake and kissing him.

But Jake was not content and his hands did not stop. He was still pressing his erection against Brian’s backside. His hands explored the silky feel of Brian’s smooth, hairless chest. His left hand found it’s way to Brian’s erection and squeezed it through his underwear.

"Don’t, Jake."

"Come on," Jake whispered in a voice ragged with lust and need. "Don’t you love me? You would if you loved me."

"I love you like a brother." He pulled Jake’s hand off his cock. "Brothers aren’t supposed to fuck around."

Brian could feel Jake moving around behind him. The next thing he felt was Jake’s freed cock pressing against the cloth of his underwear.

"I know you want it."

In fact, he did. Brian wanted it so badly, he could hardly see. His emotions were in turmoil and his spirit turbulent. "I can’t, Jake."

"Yes, you can."

"You saw what happened when Dad found out I was having sex with Mike."

"He’ll never know."

Jake’s hand slipped under the elastic waistband of Brian’s underwear. Jake had just enough time to wrap his hand around Brian’s cock before Brian leapt out of bed.

"Please don’t, Jake. I can’t go through it again." He paced the floor like a caged lion.

Jake made his voice low and sensual. "Come on, Brian. I want it to happen. You want it to happen. Just let it happen."

Brian burst into tears. "No, I can’t," he sobbed.

Jake stood up, wrapped his arms around Brian and whispered to him. "Come on, Brian. Please?"

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it. As always, your comments and suggestions are welcome. I read and respond to all email (even if it takes a few days) Just click on one of the links below. And don't forget to check out my website (Chapters are always posted there earlier than here) and my other story here on Nifty, Pocketful of Stars, in the Young Friends section.


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