Author's note – Thanks for the feedback, guys. Things should start to heat up after this chapter! Swordy

Young Dogs

Chapter 3 – Do the Right Thing

It was a full week before Penguin came to his room and told him that James Summers was on the telephone for him. The name caused his heart to flip-flop and he could only pray that his reaction hadn't spilled into his expression. Had Maigret said anything to him? He doubted it. In which case, James would be calling, as usual, to invite him over on his lover's behalf. He didn't want to go – hell, Maigret probably only wanted to see him to tell him to keep silent about what had happened.

"I'm kinda busy," he said to the nun as she stood perched on the ladder, her head poking through the attic opening. It was true – his textbooks had formed an alternative bed covering he had so many of them out.

"I'll tell him to call you back," she replied with a proud smile, before disappearing to pass on the message.

"Preferably never," he muttered to himself, suddenly feeling like further study was a waste of time. He dropped his pen onto the books, sat back and sighed heavily. What the hell had happened that night? At what point had he given Maigret the idea that he was interested in him like that? The last thing he wanted to do was speak to James. If Maigret had said anything, there was the possibility that James might blame him. The thought incensed him. Of course if Maigret hadn't said anything, he still possessed the knowledge that the young man didn't believe in fidelity.

For all his errant ways, Dee had a strong opinion about truthfulness. Jess' lack of honesty had hurt him deeply. He'd loved the other man, trusted him, respected him. To find out Jess was guilty of aiding and abetting criminals when he'd gone to him for his help was devastating. He'd barely had time to express his fury at his guardian when his anger had turned to grief. Jess would never see the man he would become – a man he was instrumental in making through his own mistakes.

Distracted from his studies, he decided to go and get a drink. The corridors were quiet, the nuns insisting on lowered voices at that time of evening when all the younger children were asleep. Dee padded through to the kitchen, finding only Penguin in attendance wiping down the surfaces at the end of another long day feeding the orphanage's residents. She smiled when she saw him, before giving him a suspicious look.

"I've counted the number of cookies in that jar, Dee Latener," she said with mock seriousness. Only the older children were allowed into the kitchen and periodically she felt it necessary to reassert her authority and remind them it was a privilege that they should not abuse.

"It's okay, I'm just here for a drink," he replied with a smile. "And I told you, it was Tommy."

"I believe you although thousands wouldn't," she said, giving her stock reply.

He laughed, thanking her when she handed him a carton of juice out of the refrigerator. "Thank God I've got you, Mother."

"And so you should. You're a very lucky boy."

He watched her bustling about the kitchen, knowing it was indeed true. She was an incredible woman and he knew he'd be honoured to have known her until the day he died. It never ceased to amaze him that she held him in equally high esteem.

"Mother, can I ask your advice about something?"

She studied him for a moment, gnarled hands wringing out the cloth she had been using before she smiled and nodded. "You know you can, Dee."

"Okay." He swished the juice around in the glass, watching it settle as he collected his thoughts. "If you knew something about someone which would hurt someone else – a bad something," he clarified, "would you tell the person it hurt?"

Her face crinkled, not sure she followed his vague description of the problem. "Okay… if you were the person who would be hurt, would you want to know?"

He didn't need to think about it. "Definitely."

"Why? What difference would it make to you?"

He loved the irony of a nun playing devil's advocate. "Because… I'd know that that person was trying to make a fool of me."

She chuckled softly. "Ah, so it's love related?"

He masked his sudden blush by looking down, his unruly hair falling about his face. "What if that person doesn't want to hear it?"

"Then so be it. At least you'll have the peace of knowing that you did what was right in your heart."

Penguin. She gave her valuable wisdom so freely and he loved her deeply for it.

"Okay." He nodded resolutely before draining the rest of the juice and taking the empty glass over to the sink. "Thanks for the advice. G'night, Mother."

She gave him an affectionate smile as he approached her, bending his already six foot frame to kiss her gently on the cheek. She watched him go, secure in her conviction that he had a good heart and would always do the right thing.

And he did. Before the impetus left him, he called James Summers on the pretence of wanting to return his earlier call. The man seemed pleased to hear from him and Dee felt a knot of guilt forming as he asked if could come over to talk… without Maigret present. James seemed surprised, but didn't ask why nor did he refuse the request. The call ended and Dee went to bed, his mind considering how to introduce the unpleasant reality that the man's younger lover had no intention of being faithful.

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"Please, come on in."

Dee smiled nervously as he crossed the threshold into the upmarket property. He'd grown more comfortable coming to the house as his visits had become more frequent, but now he was right back to square one. He was out of place and out of his depth.

"You said you wanted to speak to me."

"Is Maigret here?" Dee asked, his eyes shifting automatically to the door.

"No. You said you didn't want him to be here when you came round."

"Is he due back?" Dee persisted, not satisfied with the first answer.

"No, not for several hours," James replied, his brow wrinkled in confusion. "Will you tell me what this is about, Dee?"

Dee hesitated, his hands wringing in a desperate attempt to distract him from the strong nicotine craving he'd suddenly developed. Never mind the fact that barely five minutes had passed since he'd crushed his last cigarette under his boot moments before he'd climbed the steps and rung the doorbell.

"I want to tell you something about Maigret, but it's kinda tough, you know?" He studied the grey haired businessman through long, dark bangs. "I don't exactly like being the bearer of bad news."

James understandably looked worried as he came to sit opposite Dee. "Well I don't believe in shooting the messenger if that helps."

It didn't, but he was already resolved to finish what he'd started. "I came over about a week ago, when you were in London. Maigret invited me over to watch a movie." Dee paused at the recollection of what had swiftly followed.

"We had a few beers, I think I fell asleep and when I woke up, Maigret was, well… touching me. Then he kissed me. I asked him what the hell he was doing and he said he was sorry, but, well, I don't think he meant it. I'm really sorry." His last words rushed out in an embarrassed jumble. "He's got totally the wrong idea about me, but I guess that's not the issue. I just wanted you to know that he's not faithful to you and I don't agree with people cheating on their partners."

He stopped, realising that James hadn't yet responded to his revelations with either shock, anger or denial. He watched as the older man sighed heavily and he couldn't help but feel bad for him. He'd probably received countless comments both subtle and not so subtle about entering into a relationship with a much younger man and this would only give his detractors licence to say they were right.

"Dee…" James met his gaze, his expression unreadable. "Maigret is a young man whom I care for a great deal. But I'm also a realist. He has… needs that I cannot hope to satisfy and to that end, I have allowed and to a certain extent encouraged him to seek and fulfil those needs elsewhere. If he has approached you… then you could say he has done so with my blessing. I appreciate your concern for my welfare, Dee. Mother Maria has always held you in high esteem and I understand why. You're a decent young man and I'm sorry to have caused you any trouble."

A response rose and then fell away in his throat. Suddenly it was clear why Maigret had been so calm that night. Eventually he spoke. "So is that why Maigret wanted me to start coming around?"

James hesitated a moment before nodding, reluctant to evoke the young man's ire. "He was attracted to you the first time he saw you, when you were here with your friends. He told me of his desires…"

"So you decided to help him get me?" Dee countered angrily, thinking of all the occasions James had bankrolled their activities together.

"That's not how it was, not once Maigret got to know you. He enjoyed your company, Dee and I was telling the truth when I said he didn't know many people his own age. He's saddened to have upset you. He wants to make things right."

Dee shook his head in disbelief, trying to sort out his feelings before he replied. "I dunno… I mean, I've nothing against him being gay or anything, but I don't know if I'm comfortable with us still hanging out if he's got an ulterior motive."

James responded with a melancholy smile. "Then that's your decision to make, Dee and both Maigret and I will respect whatever you decide."

There was nothing more to say and, sensing this, Dee said he had to go. James showed him to the door, agreeing not to mention the visit to his younger lover. In turn, Dee promised that he would call when he'd had time to think about what he would do.

As he walked away from the house, Dee had already made his mind up not to continue the brief and unconventional friendship. He didn't need anymore friends – the boys he had known all his life were all he needed. Hell, it wasn't like he could have deep and meaningfuls with Maigret – they barely spoke the same language and all their conversations put together probably only totalled a few hundred words. He would call James in a couple of days, tell him his decision and life could go back to the way it was before Penguin's punishment had introduced him to the businessman and his younger lover.

He was still resolute several days later. His studies were keeping him busy and with any free time he had taken up by chores or hanging out with his friends, he almost forgot about Maigret. It took a late night movie containing a little male on male action for Dee to become uncomfortably aware of the situation again, especially in the face of his friends' heavy condemnation of the acts they were witnessing.

"Oh jeez, would you look at that?" Barry complained, his face contorted in disgust.

Tommy already had his hands over his eyes. "You're not supposed to be doing that with a dude, dude!"

With the other two preoccupied with their protestations, Dee found he was able to observe the movie without scrutiny. The simulated intimacy was causing a reaction he had not anticipated and he realised that his discomfort was more about his friends being present while that happened than the reaction itself.

His heart rate quickened, but he barely noticed, his mind more distracted by the unquestionable appearance of an erection in his pants. He shifted uncomfortably, willing the hardness to fade by sending his thoughts into a downward spiral of the mundane. Church. Penguin's chores. The nine times table. With painful slowness he became free of the affliction and to compound his relief Barry changed the channel and nothing more was said.

He wasn't quite done with the situation yet however. In his own bed later that same night it was safe to revisit the memories of what he had viewed. He hadn't been repulsed as his friends had. He was tempted to chalk that up to his being more mature than them, but somehow that didn't quite cut it. After all, it was one thing being tolerant and matter-of-fact about two men dancing the horizontal tango, but it was quite another thing to actively enjoy it.

Unconsciously his hand had gone to his cock. He could see the two men now, and his mind was surprised at itself for retaining such amazing detail of the encounter, as if he'd known that he'd want to review it later. With their faces and bodies in mind, he began to stroke himself and before long he had gone from witnessing the fantasy to being an active participant. It was him receiving the kisses and touches; him that cried out when their naked bodies ground against each other. With a little imagination he visualised another's hand instead of his own, bringing him to climax. It amazed him how aroused he was and how quickly he arrived at orgasm.

As he lay in his bed sweaty, sticky and panting he marvelled at the strength of the orgasm. He liked to think he'd had enough sex to know what he did and didn't like, but even encounters that had ticked all his boxes had never given him such intense pleasure. As the sensations started to fade, his body instantly began to crave more, and crucially, to crave better. Better, however, could surely only be achieved by trying it for real.

He knew what he had to do.

TBC…