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.

Paternal Instincts

By Archer

Chapter 32

Jake awoke first that chilly Halloween morning. There was a gray light streaming into the basement. His eyes took inventory of the debris left over from the party the previous night. A plate with three half-eaten cookies sat on an end table. Cups, some half-empty, were everywhere. Near the foot of the bunk bed they were sleeping on, was a forgotten mask. It was a black one that covered the eyes only and was fastened around the back of the head with elastic.

Despite being fully insulated, the basement in Matt’s townhouse could still be damp and chilly. Matt had discovered, too late, that there weren’t enough heating ducts in the finished part of the basement. In order to raise the temperature to a comfortable level, he had to crank the heat in the rest of the house to a tropical level. The remodeled half, where the three boys were sleeping, contained the family room and the second bathroom. Matt and Tim had not turned their attention to this room, although they promised they would soon. It was furnished with castoffs and giveaways, including a bunk bed his cousin had given him. It was on this bunk bed that the three boys were sleeping. Mike slept on the top bunk, Brian and Jake shared the bottom.

On the lower bunk, Brian still slept, but Jake was awake. He climbed over Brian to use the bathroom and woke Brian in the process. They were both snuggled in their individual sleeping bags against the chill.

He had just told Brian that they needed to talk.

"What about?" Brian asked defensively.

"What’s the deal between you and Mike?"

"There’s no deal."

"I saw the way he looked at you."

"Like what?"

"Like a puppy." He demonstrated a hangdog face, and Brian muffled a laugh in his pillow. "So?"

"So, what?"

The furnace kicked on, and raised the temperature a few degrees. The boys found they could remove their shoulders and arms from the sleeping bags. Prints wandered through the family room on his way to the litter box in the unfinished half of the basement.

Jake called out to him softly, but the cat would not be deterred from his mission. They heard him scratching and digging in the litter, pause, then scratch again.

Prints sauntered back through the family room, and Jake called out to him again. This time, he hopped onto the bed with a graceful leap. He settled into a ball of fur between the two boys. They both petted him. Brian was glad for the distraction.

"Can I ask you a question?" Brian asked.

"I guess."

"How often do you jack off?"

"I never jack off."

"What? I don’t believe you."

"I never do. I get enough pussy." Brian was bitterly disappointed. He wanted to start some sex talk with Jake, change the subject and establish rapport all with one question. He had struck out on all three counts.

Brian pointed to the cat, which was purring contentedly. "This kind of pussy?"

"No, asshole."

"Who did you do with it?"

"I promised I wouldn’t tell."

"I don’t believe you."

"Don’t, then."

He’s being too cool, too confident. Either he’s telling the truth, or he’s a good liar, Brian thought.

"You mean you’re not a virgin?"

"Hell, no."

Brian didn’t know how to respond.

Jake took control of the conversation again. "So, what’s up with Mike? Is he gay? I mean, I don’t care, I really don’t."

"What makes you think he is?"

"The way he looks at you. And the way you look at him."

A wave of panic rolled over Brian. How could Jake know? What was he going to do?

"I...I’m not gay."

"Let’s look at the evidence, Brian. You have every girl in school following you around, but you don’t do anything about it. You have a friend from St. Luke’s who looks at you like a kid looking at a birthday cake. Something’s up here, Brian."

Brian began sniffling. Damn it, I’m not going to cry. It will make me look like I’m lying. Jake will think I’m a loser.

Jake did something that made Brian’s heart skip a beat. He placed his hand on the back of his neck.

"Shhh!" Jake admonished. "You’ll wake up Mike." Jake felt awkward. He hadn’t meant to make Brian cry, and his tears were making him uncomfortable. "Brian," he whispered, "you’re my best friend, Male Division."

Brian chuckled through his tears, but continued crying. Jake searched frantically for a way to get Brain to stop.

"OK," he whispered, "I do jack off."

Brian chuckled again.

"Usually twice a day." He paused. Jake thought if he was going to get the truth out of Brian, he was going to have to come clean. "And I’m a virgin. But if you tell anyone," he added hastily, "I’ll whip your ass."

Brian had good reason to be hesitant to open up to Jake. The worst thing an adolescent could be called was faggot. Gay activists had made some progress in lessening the stigma and raising awareness, but they still had a long way to go. Brian knew that if the information became public he could be completely and totally ostracized.

Brian laughed and wiped his nose on the sleeping bag. If I can’t trust Jake, whom can I trust? Am I going to go through the rest of my life hiding? "I am," he said in a froggy voice.

"You are what?"


"Does your dad know?"

"Yeah, he is, too," Brian answered without thinking.

Jake’s eyes almost fell out of his head. "Whoa, dude!"

"But you can’t tell anyone. I love Matt and Tim. I love it here. They might take me away."

"But they can’t take you away if you’re adopted, can they?"

"It’s not final. The adoption’s not final."

Jake paused for a moment. He hadn’t realized it was all this serious. He was just being nosey and wanted confirmation from Brian. Although he felt awkward, he pulled Brian even closer.

"It’s not going to change anything. I still like you. And I won’t tell anyone."

Brian wiped his nose on the sleeping bag again. Somehow, Brian knew he could trust Jake. He had no choice. Brian felt remorse, because he had spilled much more information than he had intended.

"I knew something was up," Jake whispered in his ear. "I saw the way you looked at me."

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Let me just say here and now: It will never happen. Sex between us, I mean. The idea of sucking another guy’s dick makes me want to hurl. But I’ll still be your friend."

Jake is right, Brian thought. He has been a good friend, and maybe sex will just screw that up. Even though Brian’s raging hormones were driving him to get physically intimate with Jake, he had to concede that friendship was more valuable.

"Mike loves you," Jake told him. "Even I can see that."

They heard Mike stir above them. His legs appeared over the edge of the bed, and he jumped down. He had an enormous erection tenting the front of this underwear.

Jake gave a wolf whistle and Brian laughed.

"What’s so funny?" Mike demanded. "Like you have something different from me."

Brian answered, "Ours isn’t standing up like a flagpole."

Without warning, Mike jumped on both boys on the lower bunk. The furniture creaked ominously. Brian and Jake laughed and started tickling Mike.

"Don’t," Mike squealed, "I have to pee."

"All the more reason to tickle you," Brian said. All three rolled off the bed and onto the floor and they crushed the black mask.

Jake held up the now-broken mask and they all laughed. "It’s Halloween! Trick or treat!" he shouted.

Halloween is celebrated with masquerade and dressing up as people we would like to be. That early Halloween morning, Brian and Jake had indeed played a game of Trick or Treat with each other. Brian had offered a glimpse beneath his mask. Jake saw just a peek of the real boy behind the fašade. And instead of being the Trick he expected, Brian found that Jake had offered him a Treat in the form of acceptance.

At the same moment in the master bedroom, Tim and Matt were having their own wrestling match. Matt was on his back with his legs in the air. Tim was attempting to fuck him, but for some reason, Matt was tight. Tim had tried twice to insert his cock, but was unsuccessful.

Tim bent down and kissed him. "Relax, loverboy. Let it happen."

"I do. I mean, I want to." Anal sex between men is about raw, basic animal sex. But it also has other significance. It has a lot to do with power and control, and trust. The receiving partner has to trust his lover not to hurt him. Matt was having a difficult time this Sunday morning. Tim lubed up his middle finger and worked it into Matt’s hole. After a few moments, Matt’s sphincter had relaxed enough to admit Tim’s rod.

"I need it," Matt panted. "Try it now."

Tim did, and this time, he was successful. He pulled back and pushed it in again in a slow, gentle rhythm. Their eyes met. Matt surrendered to Tim’s organ, allowing Tim to invade his body. He loved Tim, and Tim fulfilled his needs.

Tim increased the motion, and plunged deeper with each forceful motion. Matt began panting; his breath coming in short bursts.

"Fuck me, Tim," he begged.

Tim loved dirty talk and loved to hear Matt beg. "Ask me again," he ordered Matt.

"Fuck me."


"Fuck my hole," Matt almost yelled.

Stimulated by his man raising his voice at him, Tim thrust even harder and deeper. He gritted his teeth, and fucked with a piston-like rapidity. With his right hand, he jacked Matt’s hard prick. Inside Matt, Tim’s hard cock brushed against his prostate. This sent Matt over the edge and he ejaculated.

Matt smiled wanly at Tim. Now, he was intent on pleasing Tim. He put his hands behind his knees and rolled further back on his neck, allowing Tim better access to his chute.

Tim sighed in appreciation. The man he loved was offering his most secret place to him as a gift. His eyes reflected the love and the excitement, the passion and the pleasure. With a final thrust, Tim released his load.

Perspiring lightly, Tim collapsed on Matt. They kissed with tenderness in direct contrast to the wild sex that had just taken place. Matt always loved the feeling of Tim on top of him after sex, or anytime for that matter.

Matt sniffed. "What’s that smell?"

In the kitchen, the three boys were making pancakes, or attempting to. They burned the first batch, which is what Matt smelled upstairs. By the time Matt slipped on a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt and went down to investigate, they were consuming the third batch. The three hungry adolescent boys were eating the pancakes as soon as they were ready.

Matt laughed. "Look at you savages! Inhaling them before they’re cooked."

There was something different between the three. Their body language toward each other was different. Brian was watching the pancakes. Jake stood closely behind him. Mike sat at the breakfast bar and smiled at Matt. Matt smiled back at him and ruffled his hair. They were all partially clothed; Mike wore boxer shorts and a T-shirt, Jake was in boxer briefs and Brian in his St. Luke’s shorts and a shirt. Matt observed the boys for a moment and decided that some bonding had taken place the night before.

"Would you please go put on some clothes?" Matt addressed them all at once.

"We’re hungry," Brian responded.

"Tell you what. You go take showers and get dressed, and I’ll make breakfast. I have some sausage in the freezer still left over from New Buffalo." Matt made another batch of batter, this time adding orange food coloring to the batter. Matt’s orange pancakes amused the boys.

Brian loved to clown around. With a butter knife he carved holes in one pancake to represent the eyes and mouth of a jack-o-lantern. He held up the still-warm pancake and peered through it as if it were a mask. The other two boys howled with laughter. Even Matt couldn’t resist a grin.

The phone rang and Matt picked it up.

"Matt, it’s Bill." Matt held a finger to his lips to silence the rowdy kids.

"Bill, can you hang on a sec?" Matt covered the receiver and said to the trio, "Why don’t you get started cleaning up downstairs?" They protested, but finally went. Matt resumed his conversation will Bill. Bill never called on a Sunday morning. "What’s up?"

"I need a huge favor."

"OK…." Matt said hesitantly.

"Are you working Thursday night?"

Matt became wary. "No, why?"

"St Luke’s is having another cattle call. I had lined up a foster parent to have a question and answer session with the visitors. Her mother is sick, and she is taking care of her."

"And you need a replacement," Matt completed the statement for him.

"Yes. Please, Matt. I’ve tried everyone else."

"OK, Bill. I’ll do it. What do I have to say?"

"Nothing. You don’t have to prepare a speech. They’re supposed to ask the questions."

When Matt hung up the phone, he wondered what he had gotten himself into.

The boys did an excellent job cleaning up the basement. Matt was cleaning up the kitchen when Brian came upstairs for a bottle of spray cleaner.

"How’s it going down there?"

"Good. I want to thank you, Dad."

"For what?"

"Just being so cool. Letting my friends stay over."

Matt grinned. "You’re welcome." There’s something else behind this, Matt thought. Something else is on his mind. Matt decided to face it head on. "Is there something else you wanted to tell me, son?"

"I told Jake."

Matt immediately knew exactly what he was talking about. "Do you think that was the best decision?"

"I trust him, so, yeah."

"OK, Brian. I’ll trust your judgement on this. But be careful. And be ready for some backlash when it gets out, because it will get out."

Nobody had ever told him that they trusted his judgement before. He hugged Matt. Matt was a little surprised that Brian had done so; in this area he was a typical adolescent. Brian no longer allowed any public display of affection. Brian had two friends that could come upstairs any minute. And that’s exactly what they did.

Jake’s head appeared around the corner of the kitchen. "We’re done," he announced.

"Done," Mike echoed.

Brian instantly pulled away from Matt with a terrified look on his face.

But, to the shock of Matt and Brian, Jake approached the man. He looked up at Matt with vulnerable eyes and requested quietly, "Can I have a hug, too?"

"Of course." Jake grinned from ear to ear as Matt engulfed him.

When Matt released him, Jake looked him in the eyes for a split second, and Matt could swear his eyes were misty. Mike lined up behind for his turn, but allowed his wide smile to make his request for a hug known. Matt hugged him, too.

That morning Mike and Jake gave Matt and Brian a peek underneath their masks. Despite their rapidly growing bodies, sham sophistication and premature maturity, they were basically children at heart who needed the attention, affection and approval of adults.


Jake was the first to leave that afternoon, and he did so hesitantly. He dreaded going home, and wondered what kind of mood his mother would be in when he got there. Matt noticed his hesitancy and understood. He had never been on the friendliest terms with his mother in high school, and had heard that she had developed into a major bitch since then. Of course, that was from Al’s perspective, but also from Jake.

Matt was loading laundry into the machine and Tim went to the store to pick up a few items.

Brian and Mike were sitting on the couch watching TV.

"I like your friend," Mike said to Brian.

"He likes you, too."

Mike put his arms around Brian’s shoulders. "Remember that night on the couch in Trees?"

Brian smiled. "I remember."

"And remember that time in the Nature Lodge?"

"Yeah." What is this, a walk down Memory Lane? He thought. Mike took Brian’s left hand. The gesture felt comfortable. Brian pretended to watch TV, but his mind was echoing with some of Tim’s comments. I had to wait for Matt, Tim had said. Then, Brian made the connection. Mike waited for me. Mike didn’t give up. Even though I’m not at St. Luke’s and he doesn’t see me every day, he waited for me.

Tim had also said to Brian, "Maybe one day you’ll wake up, slap your forehead and say, ‘What a geek I am! I loved Mike all along and I never knew it!’"

"I still love you." Mike moved his face closer. Brian knew that it was happening. He wanted it to, this time. Their eyes locked in a loving embrace. Brian studied the brown eyes so full of love and need and lust. Brian moved his face closer.

He puckered his lips, and POW! It happened.

Brian had kissed his first boy.

It was almost more of a social kiss than a kiss between lovers. Their faces were mere inches apart.

"Thank you," Mike whispered, and he hugged Brian tightly. He repeated the words that he said to him in the Nature Lodge at camp. "I love you."

"And I think I love you."

"Hey guys, what’s up?" Tim returned from shopping. He caught them off guard and almost made them jump through the ceiling.

Brian did go along when Matt took Mike back to campus that afternoon. He and Brian sat in the back seat of the Saturn together, and it was a tight fit. Saturns are not known for their comfortable rear seats, especially the sports coupes. Matt was amused and just a little concerned about Brian’s fickleness.

The Internet and World Wide Web were still in their infancy and Matt didn’t yet have a computer at home. Telephone contact was strictly limited at St. Luke’s. So their only other alternative was to agree to mail letters to each other.

Sunday was the day many adults brought boys back to St. Luke’s and Matt and the boys seemed to have hit rush hour. Matt had to park a distance from Trees. They would have to walk.

As they did, Brian’s eyes scanned the campus. Some things never changed. Then, he spotted two younger boys walking toward them. One of them was a redhead.

"Tommy?" Brian called out.

"Brian!" he exclaimed and ran up to the young teenager. With a hop, he hugged the older boy.

Father O’Donnell began holding mixers or "cattle calls" as Bill used to call them, twice a year; in March and early November. The purposes were manifold: To introduce the boys to potential foster and adoptive parents and as positive public relations for the institution. Even if the visiting adults didn’t sign up for the foster program it would bring a positive image back to their communities. The boys got some training and practice in etiquette handling social situations.

They were having an UNO tournament this month, and Bill told Matt that he didn’t necessarily have to be there to play cards unless he really wanted to. They would wrap up the tournament, hopefully, by 8 PM.

Matt arrived about 7:30 and parked outside the Gym. It wasn’t that cold, but a sharp wind was blowing from the northeast. He turned up his collar against the wind. The Gym was uncommonly quiet and for a split second, he thought he had missed the whole thing.

When he entered the main gym, several high school students were folding the tables and stacking them. Adults were gathered on the first five or six rows on the left side of the bleachers. Apparently, the rest of the boys had returned to their cottages. A podium had been set up in front of the bleachers on the gym floor. A black cord trailed from the podium to an outlet.

"Here’s Matt, now," Bill announced. He strode over to shake Matt’s hand.

"Sorry, if I’m late, Bill."

"Not at all, Matt. You’re right on time." He took Matt’s coat.

Matt smiled nervously at the adults. "Thanks for inviting me. I’m no expert, but I’ll answer what I can."

His eyes scanned the adults. They were quite a mixed group. Then he spotted her.

What in God’s name was Leah doing here?

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it. As always, your comments and suggestions are welcome. Just click on one of the links below. And don't forget to check out my website and my other story here on Nifty, Pocketful of Stars, in the Young Friends section.


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