Author's note – Many thanks for the reviews, guys! I hope this little story will continue to keep you entertained - Swordy

Young Dogs

Chapter 2 – Desire to Please

Dee had long since learnt that Penguin had the power to make anything seem possible, but as he stood outside James Summers' property, this time alone, he grew certain that he'd been summoned back because he was in trouble. His mind projected a scenario where the residents of the house would have mislaid something precious and the most obvious conclusion would be that its disappearance would have something to do with the young men that had been there several months ago. The others hadn't taken anything – he'd have known about it - and besides, they knew they all owed it to Penguin for keeping them out of serious trouble.

"Thank you for coming," James Summers said as he showed the bewildered teen into his sitting room. Dee hadn't been in this room on his first visit and his response was delayed by a wide-eyed surveying of the furnishings. Expensive no doubt, but he wasn't sure any of the seating actually looked comfortable. He chose a stiff, high backed chair when James gestured to him to have a seat and immediately regretted it. He felt awkward and formal, despite James' smile of welcome.

"Is something wrong? We didn't break anything, did we? We were really careful…"

"Oh no, everything's fine." The older man looked troubled, his hand going to his head. "I'm sorry to have worried you, Dee. I should have explained, but, well, I wasn't sure if you'd have come."

Dee couldn't be sure what his expression was doing in response to that statement, but he was fairly certain he wasn't going to like what was coming next. Why else wouldn't he have said what he needed to say over the phone? "Okay… what is it?"

James seemed to be relieved that he hadn't got up and left… yet. "I have a favour to ask you. It's about my companion. You met him last time you were here?"

Dee's frown indicated that he wasn't sure whether he had.

"He's French." James smiled. "It probably didn't escape your notice that he's a lot younger than me."

The connection was instant and Dee found himself picturing the sullen Frenchman, hands dug deep into low slung jeans, scowling at the young men on his stairs.

"I saw him, but we didn't speak," Dee said, realising he hadn't replied.

"And you wouldn't – Maigret doesn't speak much English."

"Maigret?"

"Philippe Maigret, but he doesn't like Philippe." The expression on the man's face told Dee that Arnon had been right – even the ambiguous term 'companion' couldn't hide the fact that James Summers had a young, attractive lover.

"He didn't look like he was very pleased to see us that day," Dee observed, not sure what else he should say.

"Not at all. Maigret is a shy young man… which brings me to the reason I've asked you here." He looked straight at Dee, his hands clasping with nervousness. "Maigret doesn't know many people here, especially people his own age. After he saw you here, he asked if I would invite you back."

It was impossible not to hide his shock. "He wants us to be friends?"

There was something in James' expression that Dee couldn't make out, but the man nodded. "I know it's an unusual thing to ask, but… well, I worry that he's lonely."

And that he'll leave you, Dee thought. But the sentiment was genuine and he found himself feeling sorry for the older man. Penguin said his generous nature was a gift, but especially at times like this, Dee knew it was a curse. What the hell was in this for him?

"Uh… sure, but I'm not sure how easy it'll be when he doesn't speak English."

"He understands more than he speaks."

"Do you think we have anything in common?" Dee asked, dubious. "I appreciate you want to try and help him make friends, but there's no guarantee we'll get on."

"I know," James replied, "but like I said, he suggested I call you up so…" He trailed off, masking whatever he was going to say with a reassuring smile. "If you want to go anywhere, I'll of course make sure you have enough money."

Dee was about to politely protest when the sound of the front door opening stole both their attentions. Quiet footsteps announced the arrival of the subject of their conversation. He entered the room, glancing at Dee before he turned to James, questioningly.

Dee could only watch, frustratingly out of the loop, as James presumably explained his presence to his lover in French. Despite James' earlier announcement that Maigret himself had asked for Dee to be invited back, the young man looked distinctly unimpressed. He could only watch as the Frenchman spoke quickly, his dark eyes flicking between his lover and Dee. When James spoke again, it was to their guest.

"Maigret is wondering if you'd like to go and see Reservoir Dogs with him? There's a showing that starts in half an hour." James smiled sheepishly. "He's wanted to see it ever since it was released, but it's not exactly my cup of tea, if you know what I mean."

He did. With his sensible sweaters and beige slacks, James Summers didn't look like an obvious choice to see the infamous movie, released earlier that week. Dee on the other hand had already discussed with his equally excited friends how they could get to see the movie when none of them had the money for the tickets.

"Unless of course you don't want to see it either?"

"What? No, I'd love to see it!" He knew his mouth had outpaced his brain, but logic told him it couldn't be that bad. He'd hardly have to talk to Maigret if they went to see a movie and yet he'd have shown willing as far as James's request was concerned. Plus there was a small part of him that was curious as to why Maigret had chosen him over the others to be 'friends' with.

"That's great." James communicated as much to Maigret who nodded and turned his attention to Dee. Eager to be out of the uncomfortable chair, Dee made for the door. Maigret however came further into the room and began a hushed conversation with his lover. Feeling intrusive, Dee pretended to look elsewhere while James opened his wallet and handed over some notes. Maigret however seemed to have no compunction about taking the older man's money and soon they were on their way.

"So… you like going to the movies?" It was a lame question but Dee figured a three block silence was long enough. The young man walking next to him looked quizzical for a moment, the thick New York accent smothering the quickly spoken words.

"Oui. J'aime aller au cinema." He met Dee's confused expression. "Yes. I… I like movies."

"Cool," he replied, relieved to see the movie theatre in sight.

The movie made up for the awkward, stilted conversation that followed when they grabbed a bite to eat on the way back. Dee found that Maigret did indeed understand much more English than he'd initially thought if he just chose his words carefully and didn't speak at his usual break-neck speed. He even managed to make the serious young man smile on a couple of occasions.

He found out that, despite his youthful appearance, Maigret was in fact in his mid twenties and that he had met James Summers while the other man was in France on a business trip two years ago. The young Frenchman had readily agreed when the older man had invited him to come and live with him in America, but he admitted to feeling lonely – a likely outcome of discovering that the grass was not in fact greener in the land of the free.

Dee told him about his desire to become a cop. He wasn't sure whether Maigret hadn't quite understood or whether he was teasing him when his companion started to laugh. The sound caught the attention of a couple of girls sitting nearby who promptly proceeded to whisper and nudge each other. It was with new eyes that Dee realised he was looking at an extremely attractive young man.

Subtly, he watched as Maigret put a cigarette between his lips and held it there. As the young man looked down to light the smoke, Dee found himself staring at the long eyelashes that curved upwards, the view partially obscured by the strands of thick chestnut hair that fell across his face. A mild look of irritation crossed Maigret's features as he swept the offending locks away from his eyes, then looked up at Dee to offer him the lighter. Dee accepted it, relieved to be given a distraction from the disturbing notion that he had just observed the minutiae of his companion's physical appearance in a way he had never known himself to do before.

They left the diner shortly afterwards. He walked Maigret back to the house, not sure how well the Frenchman knew the area yet, but certain that Penguin's friend and benefactor would not appreciate him leaving his lover to the mean streets – not that they were particularly mean in an area where even tiny apartments could push the million dollar mark.

They stopped on the sidewalk outside the house where a light was burning in one of the upstairs windows. "Je voudrais faire ceci encore," Maigret said quickly, then, realising he had to translate, frowned as his mind went to form the words.

"You wanna do this again?" Dee asked, unaware that he had understood.

Maigret smiled, a genuine expression of warmth lifting his handsome features. "I would like that."

"Okay, call me." When Maigret cocked his head to one side, he gestured putting a phone to his ear. "James knows my number."

Maigret nodded his understanding before he jogged up the steps and disappeared into the house.

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Dee's determination to knuckle down and gain entrance to the police academy meant that he no longer saw Barry and Tommy with the same regularity. They were still good friends though, hence their surprise to discover that he had been to see Reservoir Dogs without them.

"Oh yeah? Who'd you go with?" Tommy asked the inevitable question.

Dee suddenly wished that he'd just kept his mouth shut. How would he explain how his ticket had been paid for by a young Frenchman that, as far as they were concerned, they had met once, and only briefly, some months ago? How then would he explain the two other occasions recently when he had accepted Maigret's invitation – indeed he was due to see him again that very evening. His hesitation allowed his friends to jump to their own conclusions – lucky really, given the awkward, question-provoking truth.

"Ah, it was a girl," Barry chuckled, elbowing Tommy in the ribs.

"You let her pay?" Tommy asked in disbelief.

"Shut up," Dee growled, somewhat relieved that he hadn't had to explain himself. "I gotta go. Penguin'll be on my ass if I don't get some study done." He swung himself off the wall and started to walk away, the playful heckles of his friends following him down the street like a stray cat.

He did do some study before changing and heading out. He walked the increasingly familiar journey, his mind fixed only on the reading he'd just done. Studying wasn't a taste he'd yet acquired, but his determination to do right by both Jess and Penguin was enough to keep the books open and the pen scribing.

He reached the house and rang the doorbell. The light that went on behind the door alerted him to someone approaching. He was surprised when Maigret himself answered the door – normally he let James do it, worried that he would have to communicate with a stranger. His smile said he had been waiting.

"Come in."

Dee closed the door behind him and followed the young man through the house into the main living room. "So what d'you fancy doing tonight? I don't know what movies are on…"

"We can stay here," Maigret replied, gesturing to the stack of rental DVDs on the floor in front of the large TV screen.

"Where's James?"

"London."

Maigret didn't elaborate but undoubtedly he was away on business. He studied Maigret properly and realised that he was barefoot and dressed casually – indicating that he'd never had any intention of going out. If Dee was disappointed, it wasn't to last.

"For you and me," Maigret said with a smile, pointing at the large stash of beer piled up beside the couch. Dee grinned, his eyes reckoning up about twenty four cans.

"Cool. Staying in sounds pretty good."

They watched the first movie while getting steadily more drunk. The second movie was a bad choice, but the beer had kicked in and the plot was long forgotten as they sat, grinning stupidly at no one in particular.

A loud bang on the movie told Dee that he'd drifted off – for how long he couldn't be sure. His eyes readjusted to the dim lighting as his other senses shook off sleep. He looked down to see a hand that wasn't his own stroking along his thigh.

"Wha… the hell?"

"It's okay," Maigret reassured, seeing his frown. In the darkness, Dee couldn't be sure but he thought Maigret was smiling.

His alcohol-clouded brain told him there was something wrong with this picture, but he couldn't for the life of him fathom what that was. The sensations were pleasant and as he studied Maigret his mind reminded him that he had thought the Frenchman attractive the first time they'd spent time together. Too late he realised Maigret was looking back, dark eyes studying his face before the young man leaned over and brought their lips together.

He'd never thought about what another man's lips would taste like, but he was surprised to find them soft and – strangest of all – desirable. He found himself kissing back, first tentatively, then aggressively as hands became involved, fingers weaving into hair. He was similarly receptive when Maigret shoved him back onto the couch and straddled him. The frenzied kissing began afresh, lips and tongues, breathing laboured. He was losing himself willingly and it was only when he felt fingers tugging urgently at his belt and flies did he regain his sensibilities, his hands coming to Maigret's shoulders, holding the other back.

"Stop, stop!" he hissed, unsure why he was keeping his voice down since they were the only people in the house. "What the hell are you doing?"

Body language and tone of voice translated where words did not. Maigret looked surprised, but dismounted all the same.

"What is wrong?"

"Wrong?" Dee leapt to his feet, fingers fumbling to fasten his belt. "You kissed me!"

He was stunned by the insouciant shrug that was Maigret's reply. "You know I am gay."

"But I'm not!" he replied angrily, his hand hastily wiping the moisture from his lips. "Jesus…"

"Je suis desolé, uh, I'm sorry?" Maigret said, but didn't sound like he really meant it. It was fairly obvious that he couldn't see what the problem was.

Dee shook his head, more in disbelief than in rejection of the apology. "I gotta go." He scrubbed a hand through his hair realising that it was no longer neatly tied back after Maigret's enthusiastic attentions. "I really gotta go…"

He was out the front door and jogging down the steps before the other man could formulate a protest. He didn't look back to see if Maigret was watching him out of the window, but as he hurried back to the orphanage he didn't have any trouble picturing the young man's face. His mind then turned to James Summers – did he know what his lover was doing when his back was turned? The businessman would surely be devastated.

What perturbed him most though – more than any breakdown in monogamy that he'd witnessed or been an accessory to – was the unshakable feeling that, up until the point where his conscience had kicked in, he'd been enjoying himself a whole lot more than he'd ever thought he could in that bizarre and unexpected situation.

TBC…