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 34

Brian

That Veteran’s Day morning, Brian and Mike stood facing each other in the kitchen of Matt’s house. Leah had joined the St. Luke’s foster parent program, and Mike was going to be her foster son. The good news was met with surprise from Matt and Tim and sheer joy from Brian.

For Brian had just recently admitted to himself what feelings he had for Mike. Those feelings were deep and passionate. Brian had admitted to himself that he loved Mike.

True, Mike’s new appearance had a lot to do with it, and Brian was embarrassed to confess that it did. Mike started a growth spurt that helped him catch up physically with his peers. Leah had bought him contacts that freed him from the thick glasses his poor eyesight required. He had gotten a new hairstyle and worked out at the gym at St. Luke’s. Mike’s biology cooperated in other ways, too. His face remained clear of adolescent acne. Even Brian had a few pimples on his chin.

He was already well ahead of his peers academically, but lagged behind them emotionally and socially, although he had made strides in those areas, too.

Brian took Mike’s trembling hand and led him upstairs to the bedroom.

"It’s cold in here!" Mike exclaimed once they reached his bedroom.

Brian sat on the end of the bed and pulled off his athletic shoes. "Well, get under the covers, and you won’t be cold."

Mike removed his shoes by holding the toe against the heel and pulling his foot out. He repeated the process with the other shoe. Before he leapt onto the bed, he pulled off his green sweater and white T-shirt underneath. Brian also pulled off his shirt.

Bare chest to bare chest, they wrapped their arms around each other and embraced. The kiss that followed was long and passionate.

"I love you," Brian whispered.

"I love you, too."

Brian’s hands moved down to Mike’s fly. He began fumbling with the zipper and the button. Brian was operating under the covers and couldn’t see what was going on.

"Your hands are cold," Mike complained.

"Sorry, they do that when I’m nervous. They’ll warm up." Brian finally freed Mike’s cock from his underwear. Brian wrapped his hand around it. Mike sighed in appreciation. He was also relieved because it was finally happening. He was in bed with the boy of his dreams. How many times had he masturbated over the image of Brian in his mind? How he wanted Brian to hold and kiss him exactly like he was doing now. There had been so many missed opportunities in the past. They had come close in the shower in Trees cottage and then there was that event in the nature lodge. Now he was here, and holding his erect penis in his hand. It was really happening.

"You’ve gotten bigger since camp."

They kissed again in a series of short kisses. Mike started to work unbuttoning Brian’s fly while still continuing to kiss him. Finally, Brian’s cock was free.

"I’ve never touched yours before," Mike commented.

"Yes, you have."

"No, I haven’t. I saw it, and I wanted to touch it, but you never let me. Think about it, Brian."

Brian rummaged through his memory as if he were rummaging through a dresser drawer and found that Mike was correct.

"Thank you," Mike whispered.

"For what?"

"For this." They kissed again. "I never thought it would happen." Mike had suffered from jealousy and insecurity. Every time he saw Brian with another boy, like Jason at camp, or Jake, he wanted to explode. Brian was his boy, he had loved him first. He had loved him best. Brian had been cool toward his admissions of love and sexual advances. That, plus the jealousy made him even more insecure. Mike often found himself thinking: What’s wrong with me? Why doesn’t Brian love me? Why doesn’t he respond?

The two boys lay there holding each other’s dicks under the blanket. They weren’t engaged in mutual masturbation. The gesture had more to do with mutual comfort and affection than sex. By doing so, they were telling each other, It’s OK. When Brian masturbated Mike in the Nature Lodge at camp he did so in an almost utilitarian manner. At that time, it was almost as if Brian was picking lint off Mike’s sweater.

"That feels so good. No one has ever touched my dick before," Brian said.

"I’ve never touched someone else’s dick." He exhaled a long, slow breath.

Mike began kissing Brian’s shoulders and neck. It felt so good and sensual. He moaned with pleasure. Brian thought This is how I imagined it. Not like when Scott almost raped me at the dune in New Buffalo. This is what I imagined making love would be like.

Brian ran his hands through Mike’s hair as Mike continued to kiss his face, chest, shoulders and neck. Brian tried to think of a way to return the pleasure to Mike.

"Stop," he ordered Mike.

Mike stopped just long enough to ask, "Why?"

"Because I want to make you feel good." He began to kiss Mike’s chest, then worked his way down his torso, then his belly and his navel. He paused. He wanted to take Mike’s erection in his mouth. He had never given a blowjob before, but somehow, the urge seemed natural.

Brian sensed he was crossing a bridge. Behind him was his childhood, ahead the exciting, inviting world of adults. Brian knew that once he was on the other side, there was no turning back. It made him sad to sense he was beginning to leave his childhood behind. But it excited him to think that Mike loved him so much he was willing to wait so long for him.

He got a good look at the other boy’s manhood before he took it. It was almost the exact same size as his. Mike had a dark circumcision ring on the shaft. He could tell because it felt the same across his palm. And while Brian had not measured his penis, he had measured the width of his palm and knew it was four inches across. Mike’s cock overlapped his palm the same amount as his. Brian licked his lips, opened his mouth and took the other boy’s penis in.

"Ahhh! Oh my God!" Mike exclaimed. "That feels so good."

It felt good to Brian, too. Instinctively, he knew to shield his teeth with his lips. He also knew that deep-throating him was something that would take practice to accomplish, although he was willing to try.

Brian rolled his eyes to see Mike’s face. It was a reflection of sheer bliss.

Mike began moaning and grunting. Brian thought, It’s a lucky thing no one is here. They would know something was going on.

All too soon, Mike announced, "I’m cumming!"

Brian pulled his penis out of his mouth, and the first shot landed on his nose.

"What’s going on here?" Tim appeared at the door.

Mike pulled the covers to his chin, and Brian scurried off the bed.

"Oh, shit." Brian wiped the cum off his nose with a sock, and pulled his underwear and jeans up.

"T-T-Tim! What are you doing?"

"The question is, what are you doing?" Tim reversed the question.

Both boys jumped out of bed and started to dress themselves. Clothes flew in the air as they tossed the correct garments to each other. Without another word, Tim disappeared from the doorway.

Brian chased after him while still pulling his shirt on. "Wait! Tim! What are you doing here?"

"I came home for lunch, and to take some chicken out to defrost for dinner tonight." In the kitchen, Tim pulled turkey breast and cheese and the Miracle Whip from the refrigerator. From the cupboard, he extracted the bread. Brian stood in the door of the kitchen with Mike behind him. Mike rested a hand on Brian’s shoulder. They exchanged glances. Mike raised his eyebrows at Brian.

"We weren’t doing anything upstairs," Brian offered.

Tim wouldn’t look at Brian. "Oh, OK," he said sarcastically.

"What are you going to do?"

"For the time being, nothing. I’m too pissed off. I’ll deal with it when I get home."

"You’re not going to tell Matt, are you?" Brian asked anxiously.

The boys could tell Tim was angry by the way he assembled his lunch. He put the meat and cheese back and slammed the door. He shoved the completed sandwich in a baggie, tossed the sandwich and an apple into a brown paper bag and crashed out the kitchen door without another word.

Brian and Mike looked at each other.

"Uh-oh," Brian voiced the obvious.

"Your son, I mean our son, is no longer a virgin."

Matt frowned. "How do you know?"

"I walked in on them this afternoon. I forgot my lunch, and I came home to make one. They were doing the big nasty in Brian’s room with the door wide open."

Matt’s voyeuristic interest was piqued. His mouth formed an ‘O’ but he covered it with his hand. "Who was doing what?"

"Brian was sucking Mike."

"What did you do, what did you say? What did they do?"

Tim sighed. "Not much. I was so pissed off, it was better to say nothing than to tell them what I was really thinking."

"Mike is at Leah’s, I assume?"

"Yeah. Are you going to talk to Brian?"

"Of course."

Think fast, Matt. How are you going to handle this one?

Matt made a pot of tea and let the bags steep. "Brian," he called. "Can you come downstairs for a minute?"

He bobbed the teabags in the teapot, and watched the golden-brown color diffuse through the hot water. His grandmother had given him the English teapot when he moved into his first apartment.

Brian appeared in the door. He didn’t say a word. He looked frightened.

"Why don’t you have a seat at the dining room table? Would you like some tea?"

"No, thank you."

Matt added sugar to his mug, and sat at the table. He gazed into the steaming liquid for a long moment before speaking.

"Brian, what’s the difference between adults and young men like yourself?"

Was it a trick question? "I don’t understand."

"Well, for example, what are some things Tim and I can do that you can’t do because of your age?"

"Well, you can drink and buy alcohol."

"Ok, good," Matt encouraged. "Anything else?"

"You can vote, you can drive, you can do whatever you want to do as long as it’s legal."

"And as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone. Anything else?"

"You could get married, you could get divorced, and you have credit cards, money…"

"OK. That’s a good list. But do any of those things you mentioned come with responsibilities?"

"Sure. Like, if you drive, you have to have gas for the car and insurance and a license."

"Exactly," Matt agreed. He sipped his tea. "As an adult, you have more freedom but you also have more responsibility to go along with that freedom. Do you understand?"

"No," Brian admitted honestly.

"What you and Mike were doing today, do you think that comes with responsibilities?"

"No," he mumbled.

"Don’t you have a responsibility to me? Doesn’t Mike have a responsibility to Leah? Don’t you have a responsibility to each other?"

"What do you mean to each other?"

"To have protected sex, for one. I know you know about protected sex, because they teach it in seventh grade at St. Luke’s." Matt’s voice was becoming less patient. He sipped his tea again. Neither was comfortable with the conversation, but Matt continued. "Sex is a very adult act. It comes with responsibilities. While neither of you can get pregnant, you have a responsibility to have protected sex. And I don’t think either of you is ready for the emotional responsibility."

"I don’t understand what you mean."

"Then, I’ll be blunt. You’re too young to be having sex. I am your parent, and I love you and I’m responsible for you. I want to make this perfectly clear. I don’t approve of you having sex, and I don’t want you to get the idea that just because I’m gay that you have the right to bring boys here to poke." Brian chuckled, but nervously.

Then Matt said the words that every kid dreads: "I’m disappointed in you."

I’m disappointed in you. Those four words were perhaps the strongest a parent could utter to his child. It was worse than outright yelling, worse than an angry display, name calling, even worse than spanking. The phrase insinuated that trust had broken down and the child hadn’t lived up to expectations.

"We didn’t do anything wrong. We both wanted it to happen."

"But the point is, it never should have happened at all. Besides putting yourself and Mike at risk, there could be other complications. What if Mike tells someone at St. Luke’s?"

"I don’t care," Brian said defiantly.

Matt took a deep breath. Brian had never openly defied him before. Angry bees flew up and stung the front of his brain. His hands began trembling so bad, the tea in the mug sloshed onto the table. "Well, I do care. And I’m telling you to stop."

"You treat me like a little kid," Brian said, his voice rising. "I love Mike."

"I treat you appropriately for your age, young man. And you’re too young to know what love is."

Brian began crying. "I do too," he screamed. Tim appeared in the dining room to see what all the commotion was about. Brian stood up. "You treat me like a baby!" he screamed.

"That’s enough out of you, Brian!" Matt roared back. "You’re grounded! No Mike, no Jake, no TV for a week. You are to come right home from school every day. And we were planning on going to a movie tomorrow night, but you’ll stay home."

"I hate you!" He pushed Tim aside and started upstairs. "You’re not my dad!" Brian started up the stairs.

Matt was so angry he was irrational. "You’re stuck with me, buddy," he yelled after him.

"Fuck you!" They heard him slam his bedroom door.

"My God," Tim mumbled. "What just happened here?"

"I’m going up to talk to him. I shouldn’t have lost my temper."

"Later, Matt. Sit down here and calm down first."

"No, I fucked up. I need to apologize."

"He knows you fucked up. I know it. The whole damn neighborhood knows it, the way you two were yelling at each other."

Matt started crying. "I love that boy," he blubbered.

Tim smiled sadly and the dimples appeared. He took Matt in his arms. "I know. It’s OK, babe." The warmth and firmness of Tim’s body was comforting to Matt. Tim gently guided him to the living room couch. He knelt on the floor between Matt’s knees and kissed his wet face. "So you’re human after all."

"What made you think I wasn’t?"

"I always thought you were Superman. You could do anything. You manage every situation perfectly and you never get pissed off."

Matt managed a smile.

With his rough, callused hands Tim wiped the tears from Matt’s cheeks. "Let it be for a while. He deserved to be grounded because of the way he talked back to you. But do you think you could let him go to the movie tomorrow? I think he’ll get a lot out of it." He sat beside Matt of the couch and draped an arm over his shoulders. "I’m curious, though. Why did you get so angry?"

Matt thought about it for a moment. "I guess I don’t want to see him grow up. I want him to remain a kid. I always thought I would be a liberal and accepting parent. I know I love Brian. I just wanted him to stay the same wide-eyed boy I met."

"That’s impossible, Matt. He’s thirteen. Do you remember what it was like to be thirteen?"

"Oh, yeah. Very definitely. And I worked with enough thirteen-year-olds to know that they have hormones aplenty."

"Ok, then. Is your ban on sex very realistic?"

Matt grinned at him. "Since when did you become Dr. Joyce Brothers? No, I guess it’s not. But by the same token, that doesn’t mean I have to approve of it, or condone it, or support it. If the truth be known, I really don’t want to know about it."

"And I think that’s exactly what he’s planning. He’s going to go into ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ mode. Brian and Mike are still going to do it whenever they can. Only we won’t know about it."

Matt laughed. "Whatever happened to good old jacking off? It was good enough for me when I was thirteen. Twice a day, in fact."

"Me, too, Matt. But we didn’t have someone like Mike, who loved us, and who was gay. Things would have been a lot different, wouldn’t they?"

"Not to mention the fact that he has two dads! It sounds like a damn kids book: Brian Has Two Dads."

"And the sequel is Brian Has a Boyfriend," Tim kissed Matt. "I think your concerns are valid. But I think the best thing is to keep hands off unless their relationship becomes a problem, like it starts to interfere with his homework time. It may not last, anyway. A long time ago, didn’t you say that one of the reasons he was placed with you was to become comfortable with his own sexuality?"

"Yes, babe."

"Well, that’s what he’s doing now."

Matt looked at his lover with new respect and understanding. "Seriously, how did you get to be so wise about kids? Have you been reading my old psychology textbooks downstairs?"

"No, Matthew, my husband. I simply observed you."

"I don’t want to see a black and white movie," Brian complained. Matt flashed him a look that said, You’re on thin ice as it is.

"And it’s three hours long," Mike whined.

"It’s going to be boring."

"Nope, it has great reviews. And both of you are going." Matt was adamant. "When I was your age my mom dragged me and my sister to see Gone With The Wind. This was before video. We didn’t want to see it at first, but now it’s one of my favorites movies."

Tim began to hum the theme from Gone With The Wind. He laughed when Matt gave him a playful swat.

"The other thing I remember is that a woman sat in front of us with a box of Kleenex. She cried throughout the whole show. There are some movies that everyone should see at the theater. This is one of them. Gone With the Wind is another."

"The Wizard of Oz," Leah added.

"Yes," Marty agreed, "Any of the Indiana Jones movies. "Harrison Ford is such a hunk."

"The Star Wars movies," Mike said.

"And maybe this one will be, too," Matt concluded.

They packed into two cars to the theater outside Lincoln Mall. Matt, Marty, and Leah rode in Matt’s car, Tim drove his own car with Mike and Brian as passengers. Matt wished he could hear the conversation going on in the other car.

It had been a long time since Matt and Tim had seen a movie together, Matt realized. The last movie they had seen together at the theater was Sleepless in Seattle during the summer in Michigan City.

The first topic of conversation in Matt’s car was the incident earlier in the day. Leah reassured Matt that he was doing a great job as a parent, and that Brian was an adolescent and all adolescents were prone to mood swings. They had both lost their tempers, but things would return to normal shortly.

"I’ve heard so much about this movie," Leah said, changing the subject.

"Do you think it’s OK for the boys to see?" Matt asked. "I’ve heard some scenes are pretty shocking."

"I think we underestimate the resiliency of the young. Besides, they’re accustomed to higher levels of violence than we are."

Even though they were early, there was still a line, and once they purchased their tickets and snacks, they had a difficult time finding six consecutive seats. The adults sat in four seats and the two boys sat one row ahead of them. Although it was very discreet, Matt knew they held hands throughout the movie.

Part of seeing Schindler’s List was the experience of seeing it in the theater. There was no talking or whispering and no rustling candy wrappers. The capacity audience was completely silent. Even the boys sat still throughout the movie, never once getting up or talking to each other. Their eyes were riveted to the screen.

Although Matt heard a few exclamations from the audience, there was no crying until the end, when the survivors and the actors who portrayed them onscreen, put rocks on the grave of Oskar Schindler in Jerusalem. The finality of the situation struck them all. Even the boys were openly crying.

The ride home was silent in both cars. Everyone was lost in his own thoughts. Leah, of course, thought about the brave Jews who survived. Marty pondered the senseless brutality and wondered how the human spirit could survive in such conditions. Matt thought about what it must have been like to lose a child.

Matt was standing on a train platform in Europe. Everything was in black and white. He gathered it was an Eastern European country from the signs he saw. The words featured more consonants than vowels. It was cold and a fog shrouded the nearby buildings with tile roofs. In the distance, he heard a steam train huffing toward the station.

He was holding a suitcase and wearing a long, wool coat that came to below his knees. Stitched onto the coat was an inverted pink triangle. His breath condensed and merged with the fog to create a cloud around his head.

Three Nazi SS men with rifles approached him. They demanded his papers. Matt nervously handed them over. One took his suitcase from his hand, almost gently. Their eyes met for a millisecond and he flashed Matt an apologetic look.

The steam train arrived pulling boxcars behind it. Matt was shocked and dismayed to see people in them. They were calling to him and their gaunt faces were visible through the tiny window on the padlocked doors.

"Water, water!" "Sir, where are we?" "Welcome aboard! Next stop, hell!"

More SS man exited the train and approached him. They unlocked one of the cars and unceremoniously shoved him in. As they locked the door, the train began to pull away from the station. Apparently, even death trains had a schedule to keep.

A blond girl about ten years old appeared as if out of nowhere. She screamed "Goodbye fags. Goodbye fags. Goodbye fags."

Through the tiny window facing the station, Matt saw Tim running across the platform yelling his name.

"Tim!" he called back. He pushed the other men away from the window.
"Tim!" Tim waved and yelled for him.

Matt burst out into tears. He didn’t care if he was heading for a concentration camp. He didn’t want to be separated from Tim. He knew instinctively that if Tim wasn’t on this train, they would be separated, perhaps for good. This may be the last time he saw Tim.

He burst into tears but kept his eyes riveted on Tim’s figure. The accelerating train quickly outpaced Tim. Matt finally lost sight of him in the fog.

When the fog cleared, he was in a concentration camp. It was a foggy, gray overcast morning. The morning assembly whistle had just sounded. As he exited the barracks, he caught a glimpse of himself in a metal mirror. He looked skinny and his skin had a grayish cast to it. His eyes were sunken with dark circles under them.

Which concentration camp was he in? How long has he been here? Where are Tim and Brian? What about his sister and brother-in-law, niece and nephew? Leah would certainly be in a camp, too.

He joined the other prisoners in formation outside. They were spacing themselves at arm’s length by touching the shoulder of the man in front. He heard music playing over the public address system.

It was the same song as in Schindler’s List. Specifically, it was the song they played when the children were taken out of camp.

The younger children, who sang along with the record, were unaware of their fate. The older children were clearly being forced, with armed SS guards right behind them. When a young teenager bolted from the group, the SS fired several shots into the air.

They were loaded onto open, flatbed trucks. Men and women all around him were wailing and calling out to their children. Then, he spotted Brian and Mike. They also had pink triangles sewn on their striped prisoner’s uniforms.

Matt burst into tears and yelled for Brian. Brian heard the call, but couldn’t see Matt. He continued to scan the crowd as he boarded a truck.

He also spotted Jake, who was yelling that he wasn’t gay, but who was wearing a pink triangle nonetheless.

As the truck pulled away, men and women broke free of the line that the SS had guarding the road. Shots were fired into the air. That was enough for most, including Matt, to stop chasing the departing trucks. A few brave, or perhaps crazy adults continued chasing the trucks. They were shot.

Brian woke up with a shout! There was an SS Storm Trooper standing in the doorway to his bedroom!

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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