The Mary's Boys Collection

by Brandon Witt

  “It’s like a fairyland.”

  Beside him, Ryan laughed.

  Taking his gaze off the lights, Steven looked at him. “What?”

  “That’s the gayest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

  His cheeks heated. “Oh.”

  “No. I loved it! A big muscle bear like you, queening out? So fucking hot.” Ryan slid his hand into Steven’s and gave a pull. “Come on. Let’s explore.”

  Though they were quiet for a long time, it was easy, comfortable. Their gloved hands clasped. Shoulders bumped occasionally, then leaned together. They walked through narrow trails of tall grass, spikes of blue lights projecting upward like upside-down icicles; under wrought-iron canopies interwoven with twinkling white starbursts; and past topiaries illuminated in endless hues.

  At last, they sat on a bench, each with a cup of hot cider, surrounded by a vast fishpond, which was covered by lily pads in the summer, but now had huge frosted globes floating on the surface—their pastel hues made them look like gumdrops in the snow.

  They sat there, each holding their drink in one hand while interlocking the fingers of their free hands.

  For the first time in weeks, Steven felt at ease. So much so that it hit him just how long it had been since his brain had quieted. Since he’d stopped thinking, worrying, or hurting even for a moment.

  None of that had been there the night he’d spent with Ryan. That had been wonderful. But it had been full of lust and wonder. This was easier somehow.

  His eyes stung. He lifted his hand with the cider and used the back of his sleeve to wipe quickly at his eyes.

  Enough of that.

  “You okay?”

  Shit. He hadn’t been thinking. He should’ve just left his eyes alone. Steven turned and smiled at Ryan, a smile that didn’t feel forced at all. “I’m okay. Just thinking. And more relaxed than I can remember being in a long, long time.”

  “Yeah, this is pretty amazing.” Ryan smiled as well. He looked happy. “Being with you is pretty amazing.”

  Steven started to say something, though he wasn’t sure exactly what. Something along the lines of Ryan not really knowing him, so just being with him couldn’t actually be amazing in real life.

  Then he realized that he felt the same. He didn’t have an explanation for it. And maybe it didn’t make sense, but it was true nonetheless. This moment wasn’t about sex. It wasn’t about Ryan’s old crush on him. It was just about this moment. And it was amazing.

  “Yeah, Ryan, you’re right. This couldn’t be more perfect.”

  In response, Ryan’s smile brightened, and then he undid their fingers, switched his cup of cider to his other hand and slid under Steven’s free arm. After a few moments, he slouched down on the bench and rested his head on Steven’s shoulder.

  They watched the softly glowing orbs drift through the snow in silence for a long time.

  When Ryan finally spoke again, his voice was barely audible over the Christmas music and the murmur of the meandering crowds around them. “Tell me about Mary’s. I remember you back when you were all professional and wore suits and were clean-shaven. Why the change?”

  For a brief moment, a tingle of anxiety trickled through him, but the magic of the snow and lights and Ryan’s warmth worked their spell. His father’s words faded, and Steven just spoke. “I wasn’t happy. I’d worked my whole life in finance. Making a shit-ton of money, doing what I was supposed to do. Working the nine to five, which was never just nine to five. I was successful and respected. And lonely.” He thought Ryan might interject at that, but he didn’t, which Steven appreciated. “I had boyfriends here and there, but they were never… right. Honestly nothing was right, or at least nothing was to me. Then I heard that the Hamburger Mary’s franchise was under new ownership. I’d been to one in San Diego years ago. It sounded fun. Loud, happy, bright, super gay. Fun. Nothing had sounded fun in ages. So I quit. Used my savings and bought Mary’s. Several years later, I sold my house and used the money for our new building.”

  “Are you glad you did?”

  Steven hesitated, allowing himself to get lost in one of the pink orbs floating by, like maybe the answer was hidden in its frosty depths. “I don’t know. I had been. Very. I’ve loved it. I love Mary’s. I have the best friends I’ve ever had. I know they’re my employees, but really, they’re part of my family.”

  “That sounds perfect. But now you’re not as happy as you were?”

  He shrugged, jostling Ryan’s head. “Oh, sorry.”

  Ryan readjusted and squeezed Steven’s thigh by way of response.

  Steven could almost reach the feelings he’d been having about Mary’s. Or maybe didn’t want to. This moment was perfect, and he didn’t want to mess it up. “My dad brought some stuff to my attention about my life that have… changed things, though honestly, I so don’t want to talk about him or those right now. This is too great. Let’s just be here, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Silence returned for a bit, until Ryan broke it finally, his hand leaving Steven’s leg and resettling over the hand that held the cider. “I understand how you feel about Mary’s. I’m willing to bet most people looked at you like you were crazy when you left your job and probably even more so when you sold your house. I get it. I had this career that people dream of. That my parents dreamed of.” A small, bitter laugh. “Hell, that I dreamed of. I got to paint all day and then sell them for ridiculous amounts of money. I was in galleries and magazines. Then I lost it somewhere. I don’t think it was one event, I think it was spread out. Each piece I sold added a bit of pressure. And with each new painting I did, the joy was less and less until I felt like I was drowning in paint. Literally suffocating in it. Now, I feel free again. I get to help people celebrate and still get to use my artistic side. That seemed insane to everyone. For me to give up what I had for my little shop. But I think you get it, don’t you?”

  And he did. Steven totally got it. By way of response, he lifted Ryan’s gloved hand and kissed it.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Ryan Fuller

  Hamburger Mary’s looked like three small Victorian cottages smashed together, which Ryan figured was exactly what it was. He’d known, through Topher, of Steven’s new venture, but had intentionally stayed away, barely allowing himself to drive down 17th Street for fear he’d give in and wander inside… just for dinner. Right. Dinner.

  He’d been nervous on his drive over. Nervous and excited. His unannounced visit seemed romantic. And despite the snow falling and the Christmas lights trimming the peaks of the lavender restaurant, all he felt, now that he was there, was nervous.

  It had been several days since their date at the gardens, nearly a week. Between Ryan’s work schedule and Thanksgiving, there hadn’t been time. Though he was fairly certain Steven was using his own schedule as an excuse. Based on the texts and couple of phone calls, he sounded interested, but still questioning everything to a ridiculous degree.

  Ryan’s hope was that a surprise visit would be nice and maybe even easier since Steven wouldn’t have had a chance to build himself up into a stewing mess. Because that’s how the world worked.

  Well, whatever. Ryan had made it through one of the more awkward and tense Thanksgivings with his parents and hadn’t arrived on Steven’s doorstep for relief, so Steven owed him this. Granted, he didn’t know that, but again, whatever.

  Telling himself he was doing the right thing, Ryan walked up the sidewalk onto the small porch and opened the door. He stepped inside and was overwhelmed. The place was the antithesis of Steven’s apartment. There wasn’t a white wall anywhere. Colors, textures, pictures, and knickknacks covered every space. Christmas garland and lights were strung everywhere. The music was loud; the hum of the people talking was louder.

  Holy shit. This was a side of Steven he hadn’t imagined.

  “Hi! Welcome to Mary’s.”

  Ryan glanced to his right. “Oh, hey.” Less than a foot away, behind the greeter stand and a huge
plaster statue of Mary herself offering up a cheeseburger, stood a cute twentysomething. It spoke to just how overstimulating the place was that Ryan hadn’t even noticed the guy.

  “One for dinner?”

  He hadn’t planned on dinner. “Uhm….” It seemed he hadn’t planned on speaking full sentences either.

  The guy smiled. “I just seated a huge party, so there’s actually some room at the bar, if you want to get a drink and decide on dinner. You can order food there too, if you get comfortable.”

  He glanced at the bar, then back at the greeter. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks.” He hesitated, but when the man smiled again, this time not quite able to hide his what’s wrong with this guy thought behind his eyes, Ryan actually took a step, and another. Then he found himself sliding onto a barstool.

  A gorgeous bartender, brown skin and bulging muscles displayed in a red tank top emblazoned with silhouettes of two obviously male reindeer mounting each other, flashed a dazzling smile at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but big band music broke through the space, the wail of a clarinet soaring. The bartender refocused his attention behind Ryan, and his smile curved into something more playful than sexy.

  Ryan followed his gaze and turned around in his seat. Just as two female voices began singing “Sisters” over the speakers, a large woman emerged from a doorway across the restaurant. With a twirl, she whipped about a large feathered blue fan. Wait, no. Not a woman. Definitely not a woman. Another twirl and a second person emerged from behind the first. This one was actually a woman. A gorgeous one.

  Ryan couldn’t keep his mouth closed as he watched them flit through the audience. Both wearing nude body suits encrusted with glittering rhinestones. Each used their man-sized fans to gesture suggestively toward the men in the audience, then cover themselves in false modesty. Ryan was so thrown off, that it took him a moment to realize where the song was from. When he did, he was certain he’d never be able to watch White Christmas the same way again.

  The song was short, and within two minutes the woman and drag queen made their way to the front, under a circus tent of pink paint on the walls. The drag queen fanned herself coyly, then raised it above her head, shaking the feathers and her glittering body at the crowd. “Merry Christmas, bitches!”

  Ryan felt a hand on his arm and he turned back around.

  The gorgeous bartender smiled at him again. “Sorry to distract from ManDonna and Ariel Merman, but would you like a drink before I have to go serve other people?”

  A drink. Behind him, there were cheers at something the drag queen said. “I’ll, uhm, do a red wine, please.”

  The bartender chuckled. “You look shell-shocked. First time seeing drag queens?”

  “Oh, no. I just wasn’t expecting…. Well, I’ve never seen drag queens quite so…. Wait a minute.” Ryan glanced over his shoulder at the queens and then back to the bartender. “They’re both drag queens?”

  He smiled proudly, like he was the one responsible for them. “Yep. Ariel gets them every time. So, red wine, huh? Be right back.” He started to turn, then paused. “I’m Vahin, by the way. Feel free to holler or throw something at me if you need anything.”

  As he waited for the wine, Ryan inspected the place. Many of the staff were beautiful. Not as stunning as the bartender, but still. Even the emo-looking waiter, in his own way.

  Within moments, Vahin was back, sliding the glass toward him. “Do you need anything else at the moment? A menu?”

  “No. Thank you.” Ryan reached for the wine, then halted. He was going to let things happen naturally, but he was starting to get nervous. “Actually, is the owner here tonight? Steven?”

  “Yeah. He was just out here not too long ago. Probably back in the office. I can get him if you….” Vahin’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute.” He leaned closer, his smile turning wicked. “Are you Ryan?”

  Ryan’s heart leaped to his chest, like he’d been caught shoplifting. Not that he knew what that felt like necessarily. He nodded.

  Vahin’s smile grew, both in genuineness and in wickedness. He glanced somewhere over Ryan’s shoulder, then met his gaze. “Well, it is good to meet you, handsome. No wonder the boss man is smitten.” He grabbed Ryan’s forearm. “While I have you to myself, I’m going to seize the moment. I know Steven is acting like a scared little bitch, and honestly, that’s pretty atypical for him, so I’m going to help this along. No matter what that man tells you, you don’t take no for an answer. I’ve never seen him act this way about anyone before. There’s something about you he needs. And it’s more than just your pretty face. Which is saying something, considering how pretty your face is. So you just keep pounding down that door, you hear me? You keep pounding until he finally starts pounding into you. Again.” With a wink and another squeeze, Vahin released him and turned to the person next to Ryan and asked if they wanted another round.

  Ryan had no idea what to do with any of that. None. Couldn’t even take it all in.

  For a moment, it felt intrusive and actually made him a bit irritated. He didn’t know the bartender. What right did he have meddling in any of it? And making a comment about Steven fucking him. That was none of his business. Even if Steven had told him, which he obviously had.

  Steven had told him.

  Told him a lot, apparently.

  Ryan’s feelings shifted suddenly, the spike of anger breaking into butterflies of hope.

  Steven had told him things. And though Ryan wasn’t sure how important the bartender’s take was to Steven, it was obviously important enough that Steven had confided in him. And Vahin, for whatever reason, was rooting for Ryan and Steven to get together.

  That had to be a good sign.

  Right?

  As Ryan sipped his wine, all the music, the voices of the drag queens, and every other thing that vied for attention from his senses faded while he pondered Vahin’s words and hoped they meant something.

  Ryan heard Steven’s voice in front of him before he realized Steven was even there. He glanced up, refocusing on the moment like he’d been a million miles away.

  Steven was saying something to Vahin, who didn’t respond. He just cocked an eyebrow, gave that wicked grin that seemed to be the only one he had, and nodded toward Ryan.

  Steven turned, confusion on his face, and then his gaze fell on Ryan. His eyes went wide, and he froze in place.

  Maybe this had been a bad idea. The king of all bad ideas. Shit.

  Ryan gave a small wave and tried not to grimace.

  A hint of a smile played over Steven’s lips at that and he turned the rest of the way around, not saying anything else to Vahin, and walked over. “Hey. You’re here.”

  Maybe it was Vahin’s words, or maybe it was being in Steven’s space, feeling like he was seeing an unexpected and rather wonderful side of Steven’s personality, but whatever it was, Ryan’s heart was beating more out of control than it had before. Even more than in the truck, in the shower, or on either of their dates.

  Whatever it was, Ryan had wanted Steven. Wanted him for nearly as long as he could remember. But nothing compared to how he wanted him now.

  He forced himself to speak. “Yeah. I’m here. Hope that’s okay.”

  Steven’s smile broadened. None of the nerves Ryan had expected to see appeared. “Yeah. I’m thrilled you’re here. I didn’t think we’d get to see each other for several more days. I thought you had a wedding you were overseeing tonight.”

  Despite himself, Ryan laughed. “Oh, the bride called it off. Three hours before it was supposed to start. I was already at the church.” He realized he was laughing. “Sorry. I guess that’s not funny. At least to the poor guy who got left at the altar. That’s gonna be a sucky Christmas memory for the rest of his life.”

  “It’s kinda funny.” Steven leaned across the bar. For a second, Ryan thought he was going to kiss him. He didn’t. “And it gave you the night off. I’m glad you’re here.”

  It actually seemed like he was. And it was strange
that Ryan couldn’t find any of the hesitation he’d already come to expect when Steven was looking at him.

  “Want me to show you around, or have you already seen the place?”

  Like he would turn that down even if he’d known every inch of Mary’s. “That would be great.”

  With his smile still in place, Steven came around the bar and joined Ryan, then waited there as he slid off the barstool. Steven pointed to where the drag show was still going on. “Well, this is obviously the main dining room, and—” He halted and turned back to Ryan. “I forgot something.” He leaned in, having to tilt his head ever so slightly, and pressed a gentle kiss to Ryan’s lips and then pulled away. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  That was the third time Steven had said that. Not that Ryan was counting. It had to be true. Every word, every gesture, every look Steven had given him confirmed Vahin’s statements. It was such a one-eighty that Ryan wasn’t sure what to do with it.

  Without waiting for a response, Steven began the tour again and walked Ryan from room to room. Ryan caught some of the things Steven said, something about the trophy room, his desire to mix sports and gay and drag culture in one place. Where the couch in the chandelier room had come from. Something about crazy old Ms. Fletcher who rented a small room above the restaurant.

  Steven talked and talked and talked. And Ryan only caught some of it. He was captivated by Steven’s hand never leaving his and the change in Steven’s demeanor.

  This was the man Ryan had fallen for when he was young. The man who came into Topher’s house. Handsome, at ease, confident, glowing. Actually, this was that man on steroids. He was in his element. And he was beautiful.

  And Ryan knew what his heart had known since he was twelve. He loved this man. He was in love with this man. Even with all the unknowns about him, even with his litany of issues. Ryan Fuller loved Steven Conley. Just as much as he had when he’d written their names inside of hearts on his loose-leaf notebook paper all those years ago.