The Mary's Boys Collection

by Brandon Witt

  “God, no!” Marlon couldn’t avoid a shudder. “Please don’t get me on stage again. But the drag isn’t half-bad. Not my art form of choice, but it’s growing on me. At least when it means I get to be with you.”

  “Wow. That was cheesy.”

  Marlon bit his lip and felt his cheeks heat.

  “Sadly, I liked it. Didn’t know I had a weakness for such cheese.” Vahin kissed him again, then smacked his ass. “And I feel the same.”

  “Good.” Marlon stared at Vahin a moment, caught in the wonder of how he never would’ve guessed this was coming a couple of weeks ago.

  “What?”

  He couldn’t keep the probably ridiculously stupid grin off his face. “I’m simply enjoying how hot you are.”

  Vahin puffed out his chest. “Really? Tell me more.”

  Marlon laughed. “Well, you are. That and you’re ridiculously great in the—wait a minute. I just realized what you said a while ago.”

  “What?”

  “Did you say ManDonna’s son got engaged? As in, she has a kid?”

  Vahin shook his head. “Well, not her biological son, but adopted. Kinda. Long story.” He leveled his gaze at Marlon. “However, she could have kids. You do know that drag queens are men underneath all that makeup, right?”

  “I was kinda picturing her pregnant. Which is disturbing.”

  Vahin laughed. “Oh, well, you will see that sometime. She does the pregnant nun routine pretty frequently. Cliché, maybe, but timeless.”

  The food was as good as it had been the first time, and Marlon was hungry enough he’d ordered cheesecake as well. The same couldn’t be said for Ariel’s performance. Halfway through and Marlon had grimaced probably a dozen times. So many that Vahin noticed and shot him a dirty look.

  Ariel was obviously a nervous wreck, though how much of it was due to being solo for the first time or residual from the incident out front, Marlon wasn’t sure. Though either one would be enough to shake anyone up, but especially Ariel. There was something fragile about her.

  Marlon nearly jumped for joy when he felt his cell vibrate in his pocket. He knew it was rude, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and he pulled it out, hoping it was someone who could provide a good enough excuse to leave.

  He regretted the wish as he looked at the screen. He leaned across the small table, got Vahin’s attention, and held out the phone. “It’s the chief. Sorry.”

  Vahin’s eyes widened, and he mouthed, “About me?”

  Marlon shrugged, though he doubted it would be about Vahin. He knew all too well what it would be about. He motioned toward the door, then stood, hunched over, and left the dining room.

  By the time he’d stepped outside, the call had gone to voice mail. Not waiting, he tapped the chief’s name and called him back.

  Chief Schmidt answered on the first ring. “What the fuck did you do?”

  Marlon had already started to pace, but halted, debating the best approach. “Um. What do you mean? Why? What happened?”

  “Don’t play that shit with me, Barton. You did something.” Though the chief sounded angry, there was something else in his tone, but Marlon couldn’t identify it.

  Confession seemed the best path. There wasn’t really another option. “I, um, confronted Andrew after our shift today.”

  “About setting up Vahin? Damn it, Marlon, I told you to leave it alone.”

  “Well, kinda. I also might have alluded to… sort of implied that….” Fuck.

  “Spit it out, Officer.” Whatever else had been there before, anger now seemed to be the only thing the chief was experiencing.

  “Well, I… I need you to keep this between the two of us, Chief.”

  There was a long exhale of breath from the other end of the phone. “I don’t have time for this shit, Barton. Spit it out.”

  Marlon wasn’t certain why he was trying to protect Andrew’s privacy. He hated the guy more than ever, but it still felt wrong to out another guy. “I pretty much told him I thought he was gay and that was the reason he set up Vahin.”

  There was a long silence. Marlon didn’t check to see if he’d lost the connection. He was more than familiar with the chief’s pauses. They either ended with a quick wrap-up or an explosion.

  Marlon figured this time would be an explosion.

  “Well, that explains it.” While the chief still sounded angry, he seemed more pacified than ready to commit murder.

  A host of thoughts bombarded Marlon’s brain, too many to begin to make sense of them. “Explains what? What happened?”

  The anger was back. “Oh, I got a little call from a senator a few minutes ago. On. My. Personal. Cell. Number.”

  “Oh.” Fuck. “Shit.”

  “Yeah.” The chief’s growl reverberated in Marlon’s ear. “Shit.”

  “Sorry, Chief.”

  “You’d better be.” The chief’s tone lightened somewhat. “I almost don’t want to tell you this, because you’ll see it as a reward. But in some ways it is.”

  Marlon tried to follow, but couldn’t. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Nothing new there.” The chief chuckled, though there wasn’t much humor in the sound. “It seems Officer Morris called his uncle and demanded a transfer, effective immediately.”

  Marlon replayed the words multiple times, trying to make them mean something other than what they’d sounded like. He couldn’t. “You mean… he’s gone?”

  “Yep.”

  Holy shit! “But I thought there weren’t any more options and that I had to—”

  The chief cut him off. “It seems the senator found another alternative. Or made one, is my guess.”

  Marlon felt like he’d just won the lotto.

  “I can practically hear you singing the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ in your head from here, Barton. I suggest you remember that the next time you don’t follow my orders, I’ll have your head on a platter, which I still might. The senator pretty much asked for it already.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I can still hear you smiling, Officer.”

  It was true. No way to stop. “Sorry, sir.” Another thought broke through Marlon’s relief. “Does this mean—”

  Anticipating his next question, the chief cut him off. “It doesn’t mean anything. Yet. We still have to wait and see if the courts uphold the ticket against Mr. Arora.”

  “Oh.” His joy subsided significantly.

  “But”—Chief Schmidt’s voice had a lighter tone suddenly—“it can’t hurt.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Vahin Arora

  Daniel sipped his martini and grimaced, then slapped the bar. “Alex, get your skinny ass over here. I said dirty, and when I say dirty, I mean I want this glass filled with the sluttiest olive juice you can find. All you did was have the olives kiss before you dropped them in.” He shot a glance at Vahin. “I thought you trained him better than this.”

  Vahin couldn’t suppress a grin. “And I thought you were less dramatic when you were Daniel instead of ManDonna.”

  “Boy, don’t mess with this girl’s drink. It don’t matter if I’m tucked or untucked, I will cut a bitch.” He smacked the bar again.

  Alex had already dumped the contents and gotten a new glass. “Sorry, ManDonna.”

  Daniel reared back his head. “Do I look like ManDonna to you?”

  “I….” Alex’s mouth worked without sound, and then he focused on the cocktail shaker.

  Daniel turned toward Vahin and grinned, lowering his voice. “I love messing with that one. I’ll almost be sad to see you back full-time.”

  “Well, there’s no guarantee of that.” The past week and a half had seemed like forever. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying construction…. Well, no, I’m not, but your husband is nice.” Daniel cocked an eyebrow, and Vahin corrected himself. “Gruff but nice. And it’s fun to be around all the guys, but I miss it here. And even though most of them are gay, there’s still a lot of macho testoster
one. I need a steady dose of drag queens.”

  Daniel started to reply, but Vahin motioned to Alex before he could. “Alex, you’ll wanna shake that till you think your arm is going to fall off. He likes the top skated.”

  “That’s right, baby gay. Shake your money maker.” Daniel winked at Vahin, who grinned.

  This. This was what he missed. The ease of Mary’s, the humor, the camp, the… family. He missed his family. Vahin was grateful for the job, and the construction crew really was great, but it wasn’t home. Though, he had enjoyed Marlon’s request for him to wear his tool belt—nothing but his tool belt—the other night.

  Alex poured the drink into a new chilled martini glass, skewered two olives, then a third when Daniel cleared his throat, and placed the new drink on the bar.

  Daniel rose off his seat, leaned across the bar, and smacked Alex on the cheek with the pads of his fingers. “Perfection, sweetie. And don’t make me teach you that lesson again, unless you enjoy this kind of thing. In which case, I’m happy to be of service.”

  Alex’s cheeks reddened, and he hurried down the bar to wait on a customer who hadn’t even chosen a barstool yet.

  “You’re the only person who can make him blush.”

  Daniel shrugged. “It’s a talent.”

  They sipped their drinks for a bit, both pretending to watch the game. Finally, Vahin couldn’t hold back his worry any longer. “So be real with me here.”

  “Like I do anything else.” Daniel cast him a side glance and then removed one of the olives with his teeth.

  “I know.” Vahin leaned closer. “How worried is Steven, honestly? He keeps telling me that it will all be okay, but I know the fines to the bar will be unreal. I don’t see how we’ll survive it, after all the money he and Pat just sunk into the remodel.”

  Daniel hesitated, then finally spoke, his voice quiet and lacking any of his and ManDonna’s typical sass. “He hasn’t said much, but it’s easy to see it’s eating him alive. He’s so stressed I wouldn’t be surprised if his beard turns as gray as Santa’s before too long.”

  Vahin slouched, feeling like shit. He was the reason the people he loved most were stressed, why they might lose everything.

  “But Mary’s will make it. It will.” Daniel nodded, probably more to himself than Vahin. “It has to.”

  There wasn’t any more to say, nothing that wouldn’t bring their mood down further, so they sat, stared at the TV without watching, and drank their drinks.

  Alex had made them each a second cocktail when an older black man leaned against the bar next to Vahin.

  Daniel did a double take. “Oh! Hello, daddy!”

  The man’s eyes widened. “I… ah….” His gaze held on to Daniel, then flicked to Vahin, a look of terror over his face. He didn’t seem like a man who got scared by much. “Please tell me you’re Mr. Arora. Mr. Vahin Arora.”

  “I am.” Vahin tried to place the man but couldn’t.

  “I’m Chief—”

  “Oh my God, you’re Chief Schmidt, aren’t you? Are you here to arrest me?” Fuck. It was worse than he’d feared.

  The man smiled, though he cast another worried glance over Vahin’s shoulder toward Daniel. “No. I’m not, but I wanted to do this in person. And Officer Barton said you’d be here.”

  “Oh.” So Marlon knew. Surely if the worst had happened, he would’ve given Vahin a warning. Something. He patted his thigh. Yep, phone was still there. There’d been no call.

  Chief Schmidt looked around. “Is there a private place we can talk?”

  “Sure!” Vahin stood and searched the bar for where to go.

  Daniel pointed across the dining room. “Office, Vahin. Office. And you need to breathe.”

  “Right. Office.” He turned back to Chief Schmidt. “This way.”

  Steven had left more than an hour before, so Vahin didn’t bother knocking. He opened the door and walked in, then made room for the chief. “Sorry, it’s cramped.”

  Chief Schmidt entered and angled his body back so Vahin could close the door. “No problem.” He sat in Steven’s chair when Vahin motioned toward it.

  Vahin thought he might hyperventilate if he had to wait much longer. “So there’s news?”

  “Yes.” The chief reached out a hand and surprised Vahin by placing it on his forearm and giving a slight squeeze before pulling away. “And it’s all good news. I wasn’t trying to stress you out by coming here.”

  White light seemed to explode behind Vahin’s eyes. “I’m sorry, what? It’s all okay?”

  He smiled. “Yes. It’s all okay.”

  Vahin sagged in the tiny chair, his breath rushing from him. His eyes stung. He couldn’t think of what to say.

  Probably worried that Vahin was going to pass out, Chief Schmidt regrouped his professional demeanor. “I’ll make it quick. Everything is going to be dismissed against you. You won’t have to go to court, there’s no more ticket, no more anything.”

  “Really?” He’d spent every moment hoping to hear those words, but some part of him had refused to believe they would happen. Not to him.

  “Yes. I won’t go into detail, but I’m willing to bet someone else we both know will. Even if he’s not supposed to.” A smile played at the corner of Chief Schmidt’s lips.

  Vahin sank impossibly lower in the chair, his mind playing with the idea of actually believing what the man said. “Okay. That’s….” There was no word for what that was. Another thought hit him. “What about Mary’s? Will they still have to—”

  “That’s dismissed too. There is no ticket for this establishment either.”

  Vahin’s skin was tingling. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Well, you’re very lucky.” A shadow crossed Chief Schmidt’s face. “Actually, no. Luck had nothing to do with it. Those tickets shouldn’t have existed in the first place. You’re simply getting justice.”

  Those words broke something free in Vahin, released the hold guilt had claimed over him the past few weeks. He wiped at his eyes, refusing to cry in front of the chief. “Thank you. And thank you for coming down here to tell me.”

  Chief Schmidt laughed. “Actually that part is for my own benefit. It most definitely isn’t protocol. I wanted to meet you.”

  Vahin sat up a little straighter and wiped his eyes once more before clearing his throat. “You did?”

  “I did.” The chief nodded. “Officer Barton is very important to me, and he’s a phenomenal officer. There’s been a change in him lately, even with all the stress happening. I wanted to meet the man responsible for it.”

  “Oh.” Vahin wasn’t sure what to say to that, but his heart sped up for an entirely different reason.

  There was a fatherly protectiveness in Chief Schmidt’s expression as he inspected Vahin. “I’m not going to threaten you if you break his heart or anything like that. Even if I’d mean it.” He narrowed his eyes. “I wanted to meet you for myself and to make sure you knew what a good man Marlon Barton is. I hope you recognize that and treat him accordingly.”

  Vahin took a moment to respond. He didn’t get the sense that he was supposed to be intimidated, at least not much. More than anything, he felt like he was meeting an important member of Marlon’s family and needed to pass some sort of test. “I do, sir. I’m constantly blown away by how wonderful Marlon is.”

  The chief nodded, studied Vahin for a moment longer, then stood and stuck out his hand. “Good to meet you, son. I’m glad this is all over and done for you. For both of you.”

  Vahin shook his hand. “Thank you, sir.” He wasn’t sure, but he thought the chief had found whatever he’d been looking for. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

  The metal clicked as the cuff closed tighter around Vahin’s wrist. He gave a tentative pull. “I’m not sure my bed frame is ready for this.”

  Marlon grinned down at him wickedly. “We’re celebrating. If buying a new bed is part of the expense, so be it.”

  Another wave of relief washed over him. “I can
’t believe it’s done. That I don’t even have to go to court or anything.”

  Marlon shrugged. “Not too surprising. Andrew didn’t have any clearance, didn’t do things by the book, and with Pat’s video….” Marlon scoffed. “It would be asking for trouble to take it further. It’s in the best interest of everyone if the ticket magically disappeared. Of course, you missed out on a great lawsuit opportunity, if you’d wanted one.” Marlon clicked the fuzzy cuff one notch tighter so it barely cut into Vahin’s skin, then ran his hand down Vahin’s arm and through his chest hair.

  Vahin arched his back, letting out a groan, then narrowed his eyes at Marlon, despite his pleasure. “You sound pretty confident, like you weren’t worried.”

  “I wasn’t too worried. This outcome is the only one that made sense, but I didn’t want to say it like that to you. Because it should happen this way, didn’t mean there wasn’t a slight chance it wouldn’t.” Marlon moved down Vahin’s body, lowering his face to Vahin’s. “Can we quit talking about this now?”

  Vahin answered with a kiss, one that was sweet for half a second, then became heat and tongue.

  As Marlon explored Vahin’s mouth, he ran his hand down Vahin’s stomach, wrapped his fingers around Vahin’s cock, and gave it a tug.

  Vahin pushed into his grip, beginning to pump.

  Marlon released him, both his grip and the kiss. “Oh no, you don’t. You’re not coming yet.”

  “I’m not going to last long, Marlon. I feel like I’ve been pent up for weeks, even with all the sex we’ve had.” He grinned up at Marlon. “I’m going to shoot quick, and then I’m afraid I’ll be done.”

  Marlon grimaced. “Why do you sound happy about that?”

  “Why? Are you so sex starved you need it to last hours?”

  “You have met me before, right?” Marlon gripped Vahin’s cock again and gave another squeeze. He looked down, then ran his thumb over the tip.

  Vahin sucked in a breath. He hadn’t been kidding—just the spreading of his slick precum was nearly enough to bring him to orgasm. He forced the sensation away. “I’m afraid if you want to make tonight last, you’re going to have to try a little harder.”