Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental. It contains descriptions of sex between teenage boys and between adult men. If you are offended by this type of material, or if you are forbidden by law to read it, please exit the story now. E-mail comments are gratefully accepted at brew_drinker23@yahoo.com.


Chapter 10

Life in our house settled into an even, ordered pace very quickly after Tim came to live with us. He was really a good kid, and neither Rick nor I had had to give him anything more than a mild reprimand. His jobs were to unload the dishwasher every afternoon when he got home from school and to take out the garbage on Monday and Thursday nights. He forgot to do it occasionally, but he always jumped right to the task as soon as we reminded him.

One Thursday Tim had spent the night at Kyle's house, and he forgot to take the garbage out before he went over there. Rick had to run it out to the curb in just his briefs the next day. One of the guys on the truck, a young guy, whistled at Rick, and he obliged by bending over and flashing him his still-covered buns. The guy laughed out loud and waved to Rick as the truck drove off. It was too early for anybody on our block to be scurrying about outside, and I laughed my ass off watching it out of the kitchen window.

"I saw what you did just now, dumbass," I said when he came inside.

"I wanted to drop `em down to my feet to see what kind of reaction that would have gotten out of him," he said.

"You're mighty frisky this morning," I said. "You must have had a good run."

"I had a great run." Then, "What are you doing up this early? I was just getting ready to sliiiiiiiiiide up against you in bed when I heard the garbage truck. I had noticed Tim hadn't put the can out at the street when I left earlier."

"I heard the truck, too," I said.

Rick took me into his arms and kissed me. His body was moist with sweat, and his aroma was overpowering. Rick's scent had the same kind of effect on me that the scent of a female animal in heat has on males of her species.

"I want you so bad," I whispered hoarsely. "Right here, right now."

"What about Tim," he whispered back to me.

"He's gone, remember?"

"I've missed being able to do this," he said softly.

He literally picked me up and sat me on the kitchen counter. He pulled my underwear down and off me, and he dropped his own, as well. He opened the cabinet above my head and pulled out a small bottle of olive oil and used some on my hole. He put some on his cock, and he gently lowered me from the counter onto him. I wrapped my legs around his middle and my arms around his neck. He carried me that way into the den and lowered us onto the sofa.

"I want everything you've got," I said.

Rick was the gentlest of men, but, when he heard that code statement, he thrust himself into me with enormous power.

"Tell me if I'm too rough, okay," he said.

"Okay," I said, "but I want it hard."

Rick gave me precisely what I asked for. He had a sixth sense that let him know when I was close. He would slow down or stop altogether for a few seconds to let us catch our breath. When we had first started making love a few years before, both of us were quick to pop off. By then, though, we had both learned to vary rhythm and intensity to make it last and last. We still had an occasional "spurt surprise," as we called it, but usually we could make it last a long time. That was true that morning, and we enjoyed a thunderous climax.

"I don't want to go to work today," he said, his dick still hard and still in me. "Let's call in sick."

"We can't do that," I said.

"I know, but I can still want to," he said.

I chuckled.

"What would you do if Tim walked in here right now," I asked in fun.

"I'd say, `Hey, Tim. What's up? Wanna watch?"

I laughed out loud, remembering Kyle's comment about watching when we were on the island with Mont and Ter.

"And he'd say, `Yeah, can I do the finger?'"

"Doing the finger" had become a part of our private language, and he knew it made me howl with laughter every time I heard it. We both laughed so hard when he said it that morning that we came apart.

"He's really made a difference, hasn't he," Rick said. I knew he was talking about Tim.

"Yeah. I sometimes dread when George gets back."

"I know what you mean," he replied. He kissed me, and we went about our day.

The next evening, I was sitting in the den reading. Rick was watching TV, and Tim, and the ever-present Kyle, were in Tim's room. We had been to Mass earlier, and then had stopped for a bite to eat at one of those trendy "grill and bar" places. Tim and Kyle came into the den, and Tim was carrying a sheet of paper. It was only 9:30, but the boys were wearing only their briefs, apparently in preparation for bed or whatever.

"Look what I just got," Tim said, thrusting the paper at Rick, who happened to be closer to him. He was wearing a very unhappy look. In fact, he appeared to be close to tears.

"What is it," I asked.

"E-mail. From my dad. I think he might be in trouble." Tim's face had a look of anguish on it when he said that.

"Read it, Babe," I said.


                                        Dear Tim,

I hope you're doing well and are behaving yourself. In your last letter you said you love Kevin and Rick, and I know that's true. And you're right, I know they do love you like their own son. I know things were very rushed before I left, but I would have asked them to be your guardians even if I had had six months to make the arrangements. You won't find...


"Skip that part," Tim said.

"No. Read it, Rick," Kyle demanded.

Rick looked at Tim for permission to continue.

"Okay. Go ahead," Tim said.

You won't find two finer men, gay or straight, anywhere, and believe me I've known many men in my life. Those guys have my complete and total trust, and it sounds like they have yours and Kyle's as well. You boys are very young, but it's certainly possible for you to care deeply for one another. I wish I were there to meet Kyle and get to know him.

Tim, this is going to be the last e-mail from me for a while. Please don't worry. Electronic communications are still relatively new, and the Navy, and the military in general, are still learning what can and cannot be done safely. The way I look at it, if we were in any danger, I never would have been allowed to send this message.

There is a line of officers waiting to use this computer, so I need to make it short. I love you, Son, from the bottom of my heart.


Rick handed the letter back to Tim. I saw Rick making a valiant effort to hold back his tears. I quickly wiped a tear from my eyes. I knew we were overcome by the sentiments George had expressed about us, but we didn't want to give Tim the impression that we were worried.

"Ohhh, Rick," Tim started to say, and he burst into tears. Rick grabbed him into a hug immediately. I moved down to where they were and wrapped my arms around them. In seconds, all three of us were a puddle of tears. I looked up and saw that Kyle was crying, too, so I motioned him to me. He got in my lap as Tim was getting into Rick's lap, and then the four of us cried.

Rick petted Tim, and I petted Kyle.

"Baby, he's not in danger," Rick said. He started rocking back and forth, and he said the same thing over and over.

"I'm scared, Rick. I'm so scared," he said. His sobs were obscuring his speech.

"I know you are, Tim. I know, but you don't need to be," Rick said.

Kyle calmed down, and he wedged himself between Rick and me. He took Tim's hand in his, and he gently rubbed it. Tim shifted position on Rick's lap, and he spread his legs over Kyle's lap. It was genuinely touching to see him trying desperately to comfort his friend and, yes, lover.

"Tim, he says in the letter they wouldn't let him send it if it was dangerous," Kyle said.

"I know," Tim whimpered. "But still..."

Kyle started rubbing the front of Tim's thigh. He had only done it a few seconds when Rick said,

"Kyle, just hold his hand, okay, buddy."

Tim buried his face in Rick's chest and let out what could only be described as a howl of agony. Kyle and I both saw at the same time that Tim was erect, and Kyle scrambled to get up. He was blocked by Tim's legs, the coffee table in front of the sofa, and Rick's and my bodies. He put his face in his hands and howled, too.

"Tim, sit up, please," Rick said.

Both boys were emotional wrecks, and I didn't have a clue about what to do or say to calm them down.

"Kevin and Kyle, y'all push down to the right to give us some room at this end," Rick said.

We did as instructed.

"Okay, Tim, get up and sit right here next to me," Rick said.

When Tim was in place on Rick's left, Rick said, "Okay, everybody, let's calm down. We're going to all take a big deep breath when I count to three. Ready? One. Two. Er, Kevin, help me out here. What's next?"

"What's next? I don't know." I'm sure my voice communicated impatience.

"Three," Tim said quietly between sobs.

"Oh, yeah! Three!" Rick bellowed.

I had my arm around Kyle's shoulders, and I felt his movement change from sobbing to laughing. Then I heard it. Then I heard Tim laughing, too. In a second, all four of us were laughing as though we had just heard the funniest joke in history.

"All right! Now that's what I wanted to hear," Rick said.

"Phew," I said.

"I know," Rick replied.

We all relaxed. In a few moments, Tim began to speak.

"Kyle, why did you..."

"No, Tim. We're not going to talk about it," Rick said.

"But he knew..."

Rick cut him off. "Tim. What did I just say? Kyle didn't do anything wrong. He cares about you, man. He was trying to comfort you, not sex you up. Am I right, Kyle?"

"He's totally right, Tim. I'd NEVER do that to you in front of them. Scout's honor, man."

"On your honor?"

"Yes, Tim. On my honor. On my EAGLE honor."

There was a brief pause.

"Okay, Babe. I'm sorry I freaked like that," Tim said.

Kyle stood up, and he was half hard in his briefs. He took Tim's hand and the two of them walked back to Tim's room.

"Whoooooooa," Rick said softly.

"I know. I'm having a drink. Do you want one?"

"Yeah, and make it a double."

I chuckled. I could count on one hand the number of times in the almost-four years we had been together that either one of us had had a drink apart from some kind of social event. Rick had a horror of "empty calories," so he almost never ate candy or drank alcohol. I knew his "make it a double" line was for comic effect, but the fact that he wanted a drink at all let me know just how draining that scene had been.

I set his drink on a napkin on the table in front of him. I leaned in and kissed him.

"You were wonderful. I love you," I said.

"Thanks, Babe. You were pretty damn wonderful yourself, and I love you, too."

I sat next to him, and we each took a sip of our drinks.

"That e-mail was a lose-lose proposition, any way you look at it, wasn't it," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, sending the e-mail scared Tim, but not sending it would have made him think George was dead or something when he noticed they had stopped coming. Fucking Navy!"

"Good analysis. I hadn't thought of that," I said.

"I wish I had this whole damn thing tonight on videotape."

"For what? To show to the Navy?"

"No, to show to the fucking Boy Scouts. They don't want guys like those two boys because they're queer. I can't fucking believe it."

"Scout's honor sure seems to mean something sacred to those two," I said.

"That's my point. Whatever the hell the scouts do to produce men of character, it sure seems to have worked with our two little fags. But they don't want them. God, I hate bigots!"

"Do I need to hold you to calm you down," I asked.

He chuckled. "Sorry about that. No, but you do need to hold me."

We took our shirts off and got into our usual position. When we were comfortable, I said,

"Could they get kicked out of the scouts just for being gay."

"That's right. It goes against the scout oath that they'll be morally straight. They're word, not mine. They're also supposed to be clean in word and deed. If they kicked out every Boy Scout who ever said `fuck,' let alone `shit,' there wouldn't be a one left. I can fucking guarantee that."

"Do they have to get caught doing something," I asked. I had not been a scout, but their whole homophobic orientation interested me, especially after what I had seen happen that night.

"No, not at all. They consider the homosexual orientation immoral. Face it, Babe, you and I were doomed to hell the day we were born, according to them."

"I didn't know Kyle was an Eagle Scout, did you?"

"Yeah. Tim told me. He's one of only eight Eagles in their troop."

"Is Tim one of them," I asked.

"He's close, but he's not there yet. I don't know if he's even going to go for it. I wish he would. I'm sorry I didn't."

"How far did you get," I asked. I knew Rick had been a scout, but we had never talked about it much.

"Life Scout. The next rank is Eagle. I think they changed the ranks, though, and I think you now go from First Class to Eagle."

"Why didn't you finish it," I asked.

"When I went to high school, I got involved in sports. Sports became my life and just replaced the scouts. It's rare to find a kid Kyle's age still as active as he is."

"Why do you wish you had gotten your Eagle Scout rank," I asked.

"Well, it's a pretty big life achievement, for one thing."

"You mean like finishing the Ironman?"

He chuckled.

"And I'd love to be able to plop my Eagle badge down on some scoutmaster's desk and say, `I'm an Eagle, I'm queer, and I'm here.'"

"You really care about this, don't you? I knew you had been a scout, but I had no idea you cared this much."

"Well, I haven't thought about it much in a long time, you know? But I think scouting is just about the best thing a young boy could ever do. You heard them tonight. All Kyle had to do was pledge his honor, and Tim accepted it right away. Tim knows Kyle wouldn't lie on his honor. Some kids might, and I'm sure plenty of them do, but Tim knew Kyle wouldn't."

"I always thought that scout's honor thing was a joke, sort of."

"Not to a real scout, it isn't."

"Were there any gay kids in your troop?"

"You mean, besides me? I didn't know it then, but there were several." He mentally counted on his fingers. "At least five that I know of. Six, including me. Of course, BSA claims there are no gays in scouting."

"BSA? Boy Scouts of America?"

"Right. Not only are there gay scouts, there are gay Eagle Scouts, and we've got one right here in the house."

"Maybe they could let gay kids be in it, but just have different ranks. The gay kids could be Penguins instead of Eagles."

I didn't think I had ever seen Rick laugh that hard. Or that loudly. In fact, his laughter roused the boys, and they came out of Tim's room to see what was going on. They were both wearing shorts.

"What happened," Kyle asked.

"Nothing. We'll tell you tomorrow. Y'all go to bed," Rick said, still trying to get his breath after his laugh.

"Before I go to bed, I want to say I'm sorry for how I acted tonight," Tim said.

"We both do," Kyle piped in.

"Your dad's going to be okay, Tim," I said.

"I know. Kyle helped me understand that." Tim took Kyle's hand.

"There's no reason to be sorry, Tim. You acted like a fourteen-year-old boy who was scared," Rick said.

"Exactly," I added.

"But the other thing..."

"We're not going to talk about that, Tim. That was about as important as this."

The "this" was a long, loud fart Rick let rip right then.

Of course, everybody laughed.

"Rick, I want to thank you for what you did. You have a gift, man. You can turn tears into laughter in a heartbeat." Kyle was being very sincere, and, incidentally, cute as hell.

"Thanks, Kyle," Rick said. "Sometimes I try too hard, but sometimes it works."


The next morning, Rick and I made slow, gentle love to one another without saying a word. Our room was filled with sunlight, and the white bed linen contrasted with Rick's tanned skin perfectly. I was totally in love with that man, and totally in awe of him. That morning, his every gesture, every facial expression communicated strength, love, and, yes, honor. He opened himself to me completely, and I filled him with my love.

"Goddamn, that was good," he said softly. "I think you're getting better."

"No. We're getting better," I said. I was gently rubbing my finger back and forth across his chin. He had shaved the afternoon before to get ready for church, but the stubble was already there.

"I wonder what the tykes are doing," he said.

I smiled. "You really love those boys, don't you?"

"I'll admit it," he said. "And you do, too. Don't deny it."

"I won't."

"They're so vulnerable. So na´ve. I know Kyle didn't rub Tim's leg to turn him on. Kyle's a good kid. Plus, he's not stupid. I know he just wanted to comfort his boy. I know he'll learn, but I don't want him to get hurt like he almost did last night. You couldn't feel Tim's muscles harden when that happened. That little fucker's strong as a bull, man, and he was very close to wanting to take Kyle out."

"I didn't realize that, Babe," I said. "Oh, by the way, I agree with what Kyle said last night. You DO have a gift for turning tears into laughter. What an incredible line."

Rick let out a rather heavy sigh.

"Are you sad, Babe," I asked.

"No, I'm happy. There's so much love in this house. I'm about to cry."

He took several deep breaths and concluded with "Phew." He wiped his eyes on the sheet. "I'm okay," he said.

"Thank you," I said.

"For what?"

"For what you just said. For what you just did. For sharing your soul with me."

Then he did something that was totally Rick, totally jock, totally "guy," and totally disgusting. He used the edge of the top sheet to blow his nose!

"It'll be dry by tonight. Besides, it's my side."

All I could do was laugh. We got up and made the bed. Before we left the room, though, we kissed and embraced.

"I love you, shithead," he said.

"I love you, too, asshole."


Sunday mornings were, by tradition, "underwear only" at our house. Before Tim came to live with us, Rick and I stayed naked pretty much all morning, but we had changed that to underwear for his benefit. All four of us wore briefs, so it was "briefs only." Rick and I put on our briefs before leaving our room.

It was around nine o'clock when we emerged, and the boys were already up watching TV. They had the set tuned to one of the versions of ESPN. They had already gotten the paper for us, and they had a pot of coffee made and waiting.

"Hi," they said in unison. "Hi," we both replied.

We didn't say anything else until we had our cups of coffee and were seated at the breakfast room table. The boys came over and filled the other two chairs. There was a pack of cigarettes on the table which I knew to be Kyle's. He almost never smoked in front of us, but his cigarettes were always on the table on the Sunday mornings he was at our house.

"You mind if I have one of these," I asked.

"Help yourself," he said, as he always did.

"I owe you a pack," I said. It was a reflex response, and I no more meant it than I would have if I had said, "I'll suck your dick." And he knew it.

"You always say that, Kevin, but you never do," Tim said.

"Tim, dude," Kyle said, "y'all feed me like twenty meals a week. He can have a smoke without paying me back." Then, "Can I have one?"

I looked at Rick, and I just knew the devilment was right on the tip of his tongue.

"No. Buy your own," Rick said.

I was glad I didn't have a mouthful of hot coffee at that moment because my laugh would have spewed it all over Kyle.

Kyle grinned. "Asshole," he said. He lit up.

"Kyle, where do you buy your smokes, man," I asked. The state of Florida had a pretty strict rule about not selling tobacco products to kids under eighteen.

"I don't buy `em," he said.

"So what do you do? Shoplift them."

"Kevvvvvvvinnnnnnnn," Tim said, in Kyle's defense.

"I do, sort of, Babe," Kyle said. "But not really."

"Well, do tell," I said.

"My family has these gift shops up and down the beach, and in Destin and Fort Walton, too. Oh, Tim, I forgot about those and about the motels over there, too. Anyway, we have a warehouse where we keep the stock for those places. About once a month, I go to the warehouse and tell the manager I need two cartons of Marlboro Red Box, and he gives them to me."

"And your parents are okay with that arrangement," I asked.

"They know I smoke, but I don't smoke in front of them. I don't know if they know about the arrangement or not. They've never said anything to me about it."

"So, Kyle, you're an Eagle Scout and a cross country runner, right," I asked.


"Do many Eagle Scouts and runners smoke?" We had never talked about that before, but I was fascinated by it. In fact, I saw Kyle in a whole new light that morning, after what had happened the night before.

Rick pointed to himself and nodded vigorously, grinning broadly.

"Are you an Eagle," Kyle asked, excitement in his voice.

"No. I'm a Life."

I took note of the fact that they both used the present tense.

"Oh, I know what that is. It's like where you are, Tim," he said. "They used to have that rank when I first joined. How many badges did you have?"

"I had more than enough for Eagle, but I never did the project," Rick said. I didn't know what they were talking about, but the other three at the table were intensely interested.

"That's exactly where this jerk is," Kyle said, pointing his thumb toward Tim.

"Hey," Tim said with a little indignation in his voice.

"You need to do the project, Tim. I'm so sorry now that I never did it," Rick said.

"Why didn't you do it, Rick," Tim asked.

Rick told him about high school and sports and all.

"I'm not sure I want to be an Eagle Scout anymore," Tim said.

"Why the hell not, man? It's cool," Kyle said.

"Yeah, Tim, why not," I asked in a much calmer voice than Kyle had used.

Tim got pretty tense at that moment, and it was obvious on his face.

"They don't like me," Tim said quietly.

"Bullshit! Everybody likes you," Kyle declared. "Hell, you got eight votes for Senior Patrol Leader, and you're not even an Eagle. The Senior Patrol Leader has always been an Eagle."

"Not the troop, Kyle. I know they like me. The scouts don't."

"What are you talking about," Kyle demanded. I could tell Kyle took his scouting more seriously than I had imagined.

"The National Committee, Kyle. They don't like you and me because we're gay."

Kyle appeared stunned. He looked back and forth to me and Rick, and he settled on Rick.

"He's right, Kyle," Rick said. "You don't know anything about that?"

"No. What's up with that," Kyle asked. "What does what he and I do back there in that bedroom have to do with us being scouts?"

"Nothing, as far as most people are concerned, but it can get you kicked out of the scouts," Rick said.

"Even if we weren't doing anything, Babe, they would kick us out just because we wanted to do it, if we told them," Tim said.

"Scout's honor, Kyle," Rick said.

Kyle looked confused and deflated, but he obviously took Rick at his word.

"How did y'all find out about this," Kyle asked.

"It was in the news. My dad and I talked about it," Tim said. "Before I told him I was gay."

"I'm quitting," Kyle said in disgust.

"No, you're not. Neither one of you is quitting," Rick said. "You're going to stay in, and Tim, you're going to make Eagle."

There was a strained silence for a few moments after Rick's pronouncement. Kyle had a look on his face that was very close to "who the hell do you think you are." Kyle picked up his box of cigarettes and turned it over and over in his hands. Tim looked a little confused.

"Kyle, you don't really want to quit, do you," Rick asked.

"No, sir," Kyle said in a low voice.

"Are you Order of the Arrow," Rick asked.

"Not yet. Close."

"Have you been to Philmont," Rick asked.

Kyle's face brightened into a smile. "Oh, yeah. Last summer. It was awesome."

"Well, you need to get your Order of the Arrow. In fact, both of you do."

"I don't get it, Dad," Tim said.

There was dead silence.

"Rick, I mean," Tim said.

I knew Rick was about to burst with emotion, but he continued.

"Tim, the National Executive Committee puts out propaganda about there being no gays in scouting, and you and I both know that's a crock of shit. Hell, there are three gay scouts at this table."

The boys grinned.

"Kyle, what was it like at Philmont? Any gay guys there?"

"Ohhh. Ohhh. Oh, yeah. There were plenty," he said. "That's why I was so surprised about what you said, Rick."

"We'll check it out on the Internet later, guys," I said.

Tim and Kyle looked at me like I had announced that the world was really flat, after all.

"Don't y'all want to see for yourselves," I asked.

"They know I didn't lie, Babe," Rick said.

"He gave his honor," Tim said. His tone of voice said that that should have been perfectly obvious to me.

I was suddenly acutely aware that Rick had a bond with those two boys that I could never have. The three of them were scouts, and I wasn't. I had always thought the Boy Scouts was for losers, for kids who weren't athletes, for kids who needed someplace to fit in and belong because they couldn't anywhere else. At that moment, I realized that scouting was a way of life, for your whole life, and that it was part of how a man like Rick could relate, on a level I couldn't really comprehend, with his sons.

"Kevin's right, guys," Rick said after a few moments' pause, "y'all do need to read some of that stuff on the Web about it. And Tim, you need to get your Eagle just because you're gay, man."

"Yeah. And Order of the Arrow, too," Tim said.

"Okay. Changing the subject. Who in this group could handle a breakfast buffet right about now? Kevin's treat."

The boys said "yeah" in unison. We got dressed and proved once again that no restaurant could possibly make money on an all-you-can eat buffet when my guys swarmed in.