The Mary's Boys Collection

by Brandon Witt

  She held.

  He cried.

  Time passed.

  When at last tears were dried and Pat sat beside him instead of the other side of the table, she poured another shot of bourbon into his lukewarm coffee. “Man up and drink this. It’ll put hair on your chest.”

  They both laughed.

  “You really think I’m doing the right thing with Mary’s?”

  “Are you really thinking about selling it or something? You love it, I know you do. And the guys….”

  Guilt bit at him as his friends, his family, flitted through his mind. “I could just sign the deed over to Vahin. He’d take care of everyone.”

  “Oh, yeah. That sounds like a brilliant choice. One that will make you immensely happy.”

  Was he really letting his father’s words get to him this strongly? “So you do think I’m doing the right thing with Mary’s?”

  Pat cocked an eyebrow again and smiled once more. “Don’t you?”

  He hesitated, then nodded.

  For the first time in weeks, just thinking about his restaurant, about the people there, brought a sense of peace to him. A bit of calm. He nodded. “Yeah. I think I am.”

  “Me too.”

  They sat there a while longer, neither drinking, just being close. Riley Christopher began to twist and turn on the couch, a sure sign that adult time was coming to a close.

  He hated to go back to something that would make her mad, but it had been the reason he came here. At least, he thought it had. He leveled his gaze on her. “And Ryan? If I think I’m doing the right thing in regards to Ryan as well? Will you hate me?”

  Pat hesitated, like she was considering. Finally she sighed. “No. I can’t imagine anything you’d do that would make me hate you. It’s strange and it’ll be uncomfortable for a while, but I’ll get used to it. I’m worried how Topher will respond.”

  “He knows. He actually gave me Ryan’s number after….” Too much, too much!

  “Oh. Last to know, I see.” She shrugged. “Well, if he’s okay with it.” A smile broke across her lips. “And Lord knows, Ryan has had a crush on you for as long as I can remember. I bet he’s in pure heaven.”

  Now that surprised him. “He actually told you that?”

  She waved him off. “Of course not. What teenager is going to tell his best friend’s mom that he’s got the hots for her brother? But it was written all over his face every time your name was mentioned. And he’s a good kid. I really do love him.” She caught herself, and it almost looked like she was experiencing some type of pain. “Man. Ryan is a good man.” She smiled at Steven, though there was some unnamed sadness in her eyes. “I’m glad you found love, Steven. So much. It’s not how I would’ve planned it for you, but even that makes sense. It’s been a long time since you’ve done anything expected. And I’m glad for Ryan. He deserves to be cherished. And there’s not a soul in this world who can love someone as much as you.”

  Steven stayed for another couple of hours, reading books to Riley Christopher. Then the three of them watched an episode of Caillou. He got teary again as he hugged Pat goodbye, promising he’d see her at Mary’s that night. He noticed she got teary as well, though neither of them commented on it.

  He almost drove to Mary’s, and was even halfway there when he decided to take his sister’s advice. He was going to visit his dad and tell him exactly where he could stick it. But before that, he was going to buy the biggest, most expensive bouquet of roses he could find.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ryan Fuller

  “You know, as a gay man, I never thought I’d see too many penises, but this is a bit overwhelming.”

  Ryan finished tying the blue ribbon around the silver-plated cake knife shaped like a curved penis. Satisfied, he looked across the room to Steven and grinned. “Don’t act like you didn’t have your wild times in the bathhouses. I’m sure this is nothing compared to back in the day.”

  Steven sputtered. “Back in the day! I’m not a seventies porn star, you know. And I’ve gotta say. I think all these penises are a little tactless for a five-day-old.” He held up a golden penis with a name card fitted in the slit at the tip. “This kind of shit is why people don’t want the gays to have kids.”

  God, Steven was cute when he was flustered. No, not cute. Hot. The man was hot. “Eight days.”

  “What?”

  “Jeremy is eight days old. A bris happens when a baby is eight days old.”

  Steven placed the placard on the table, then refocused on Ryan. “Well, I’m a little surprised at you, honestly. I wouldn’t think you’d support male genitalia mutilation for religious purposes.”

  “My man, I need the work. Sean and Lee are friends of mine. This ceremony is very important to them. Besides, you’re circumcised.”

  “Yeah, and I wish I wasn’t. The way you moan every time I pull on your foreskin with my teeth makes me jealous. I wanna feel that.”

  Ryan looked over his shoulder to peer down the hall, then turned back to Steven, barely keeping a straight face. “Care to announce that any louder? The grandparents might be walking through the doors.”

  Steven sputtered again and made a sweeping motion through the room. “There’s a thousand and one cocks in this room. I think they can handle it. Plus, they just watched a baby’s dick get shortened.”

  “That’s not how it works.” Ryan barely kept from laughing.

  Steven cocked an eyebrow. “Really? Care to personally test that theory?”

  Ryan crossed the space between them, lowering his voice. “I thought you were just saying how you liked my foreskin. And now you’re daring me to get rid of it?”

  Steven’s gaze grew heated, and his voice dropped to a gravelly level. “No. I definitely don’t want you to get rid of it.” He reached out, curled his fingers into the waistband of Ryan’s slacks, and pulled him closer.

  Ryan instantly got hard. He tried to step away, but Steven held on tight. Partly laughing, Ryan glared at him. “You cannot get me aroused right now. There’s a baby in the other room and it’s freaking me out.”

  “Alrighty, then, way to kill that mood.” And just like that, Steven’s hand was gone, which Ryan instantly regretted. “But you can’t blame me. We’ve barely had a moment to ourselves the past several days. We were going to spend the entire day in bed. It’s not my fault Betsy got sick. I had expectations, and all these penises strewn everywhere, which I find make me question your career choices, by the way, are only adding to the pressure.”

  “They are not strewn, a party planner doesn’t strewn. Or whatever the present tense of that word is.” Ryan gave Steven a quick kiss. “Now, let’s get this done so we can resume our previously scheduled program.”

  Ryan figured he already had Steven’s body memorized. The curve of his hips. The vein on the inside of his left bicep. The scar that crossed the top of his right foot. The ridge that ran down the underside of his dick. All of it explored and cemented in his mind. The reality of the man was different, but just as wonderful, than the years of fantasizing about him had predicted. However, as Ryan straddled Steven’s lap, he bent closer, noticing something glinting on Steven’s chest in the afternoon light from the window. He ran his finger over it. “You’ve got a new gray chest hair.”

  Steven smacked Ryan’s hand away. “Whatever. I have too many gray chest hairs to count. There’s no way you’ve noticed a new one.”

  “Nope, it’s new. I promise.” Ryan bent again, licking the spot, then trailed his tongue over the plane of muscle to settle over Steven’s nipple.

  Steven sucked in a breath. “Oh, fuck yeah.”

  Ryan flicked his tongue, and Steven arched his back.

  Though his teeth were clenched, there was a teasing tone to Steven’s words. “You really shouldn’t be counting my gray hairs. I’m pretty sure you can’t count that high, and it only confirms that you have an old man fetish.”

  Ryan gave a little nip and was rewarded with another sharp intake of breath,
and he pulled back, his gaze meeting Steven’s. He knew Steven was joking, but could also hear the doubt still in Steven’s voice. “My attraction to you has nothing to do with a fetish. Age or otherwise. I’ve wanted you my whole life. Since you were young. I’ll still want you when you’re old.”

  “So, now. You’re saying you want me now.”

  “Shut up.” Ryan refused to let Steven joke his way out of this again. “Yes, I want you now, and I will want you when you’re old, thirty years from now.”

  “Wow. You really are bad at math, aren’t you?”

  Despite himself, Ryan laughed, shaking his head. “You’re horrible.”

  “True.” Steven wriggled his fingers, flicking Ryan’s hole. “And speaking of, sit on my cock already. It’s a miracle at my age I can stay hard with a condom this long. Let’s not press our luck.”

  Ryan was fairly certain Steven could say almost any word and get him turned on, but having him tell Ryan what to do with Steven’s cock was already a favorite. Ryan finally broke eye contact, pressed his lips to Steven’s, and pivoted down.

  Steven only had to help direct his cock inside Ryan for a moment, and then Ryan abandoned the kiss, arched his back as he sat up, and sank onto Steven’s length.

  Both of them moaned.

  No more words were spoken as Ryan began to ride. The teasing was done.

  Ryan moved slowly at first, committing the feel of Steven’s cock stretching him to memory. He did it every time. At first, it was out of fear that it would be their last time. That Steven would freak himself out, run away, and not come back. Over the past many days, though, Steven seemed more at ease when they were together, even making jokes about their age difference himself, ones that were actually funny and not merely self-deprecating. As the change occurred, Ryan told himself that he was only imagining Steven’s kisses, caresses, and lovemaking were unspoken promises. That he only felt what he’d wanted to believe. But each time, the promises seemed louder, clearer. Ryan’s memorization of each moment was no longer in fear of it passing, but in celebration of being in that moment. Living a life on his own terms, with the man he’d desired for as long as he could remember.

  He rocked, building up speed, and made the same request he did every single time. “Can we please not use a condom? I need you inside of me. Really inside of me.”

  It wasn’t fair. And he knew it. Ryan could see the fire in Steven’s eyes grow each time he asked. But he didn’t care. Despite Steven teasing about his math skills, Ryan had done the calculations. They were safe.

  “Six more weeks.” Steven squeezed his eyes shut as Ryan pushed down harder and clenched around him. He moved his hand down Ryan’s chest and stomach to grip his dick. “There’s no rush. After that, we have an unlimited time.”

  Ryan ran his fingers through Steven’s thick hair as his head lay on Ryan’s chest. Yeah, this moment needed celebrating. In every way. Life was as beautiful as any fantasy he’d ever had. Even if he did have to keep doing shifts at the funeral home for a while. However, that really was taking a lot of time away from Steven and Confetti. Maybe….

  “What are you thinking?” Steven’s voice was slow, relaxed.

  “Who said I was thinking anything?”

  A chuckle. “Babe. You think about as loud as ManDonna can screech.”

  “I think that was an insult.”

  Steven ran his fingers over Ryan’s hairy stomach, playing with his flaccid dick for a moment before settling his hand over his hip. “Quit stalling. What are you thinking?”

  Ryan hesitated. For some reason he worried that saying it out loud would make the decision final. “I’ve been thinking that….” Holy shit. Why was he so nervous? It was just the two of them.

  Steven waited, already having learned that Ryan sometimes just needed to process before he spoke.

  “That maybe I should start painting again.” Ryan paused for just a moment, listening to the words reverberate in his head, and then rushed on before Steven could tell him he was selling out. “I mean, I hate working at the funeral home. And a couple paintings a year would mean I could give all my time to Confetti. And… to us.”

  This time, Steven’s silence felt heavy, and when he spoke, he obviously chose his words carefully. “I don’t want us to be a reason you go back to something you didn’t want. I’m not your parents, babe. I’d rather have less time with you and you be happy, than you feeling suffocated again.”

  “I don’t think I would.” Ryan paused once more, judging the veracity of those words. They felt true, and just having Steven not pressure him to paint made them even more so. “Actually, if I just painted what I want, what I feel, that sounds kinda great. I used to love painting. But then I had to worry about what would sell the most. What customers would want. If I could just paint from my heart, it might go back to how it used to be. I know they wouldn’t sell for as much, but I bet it would be enough.”

  Steven snuggled closer to him, pulling Ryan close. “You sound kinda excited as you talk about it. That’s a good sign.”

  Ryan hesitated again. “You don’t think that I’m… selling out?”

  “Hey.” Steven sat up abruptly, supporting his weight on his elbow by Ryan’s head. “Look at me.”

  It took him a second, but he did. Ryan met Steven’s kind eyes.

  “I did what I was supposed to do for way too long. And then I almost talked myself into giving up what I loved once I finally had it. If you want to paint, then paint whatever the fuck you want to paint. If you want to throw penis parties for babies, then you do that. If you want to fall in love with an old man, then for the love of fuck, do that. And please don’t let anyone talk you out of any of it. Including me.”

  Ryan didn’t even attempt to hold back the smile that broke across his face and swept away any of the doubts he’d piled upon himself about painting. As he reached up and stroked Steven’s beard, there was no subconscious effort to manipulate Steven’s emotions, just complete adoration. “You’re not old. But when you are, I’ll love you then too.”

  The next morning, as Ryan turned on the lights of Confetti and started the mental checklist of all the things that he needed to do to be ready for the day, his cell rang.

  The number wasn’t in his contacts, and he nearly let it go to voicemail but answered on a whim. “Hello?”

  “Hi. Is this Ryan?” The deep voice sounded familiar.

  “Yes. This is he.”

  There was a chuckle. “This is he. You really are a fancy young thing, aren’t you?”

  Ryan grimaced, but there didn’t seem to be any hostility in the tone. “Who is this?”

  “Oh, sorry.” Another chuckle. “This is Vahin. The bartender at Mary’s. I got your number from Pat. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Yeah, of course it is. Everything okay?”

  “Well, yeah. I think so. She and I were talking about stuff and kinda came up with a plan. One I need you for. You’ve seen the Christmas decorations at Mary’s. I’m pretty sure you’re aware we could use some help.”

  The memory of the poorly strung lights throughout the interior made him shudder. “Uhm, yeah, actually. But what do you need?”

  “You busy two nights from now?”

  Two nights from—“Christmas Eve? Are you kidding? Yeah, I’m busy, there’s a big party I’m handling for… why?”

  “I don’t want to ruin your plans. We can figure something else out. Plus, it’s for Steven, so you’d of course need to be there. I’ll pick a different night.”

  “No, wait. Hold on.” Ryan thought for a second. Betsy had mentioned her sister was looking for extra cash. Maybe between the two of them… actually, maybe there’d need to be three of them. He really shouldn’t bail on such an important client, but—“Yeah, I’m in. What do you have in mind?”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Steven Conley

  Steven let out a frustrated growl as he pulled the truck into his reserved spot in the back of Mary’s. He was a little slow hitting the brake,
then hit it too hard and slid on the ice.

  Beside him, Ryan gasped and gripped the door handle. “Whoa. I know you’re frustrated, but slamming us through the back wall of Mary’s will only make it worse.”

  He glowered at Ryan. “Well, it’s ridiculous. Vahin and the others can handle Mary’s on their own any other night of the year. But on Christmas Eve, when you pawned off a big client so we could spend our first Christmas Eve together, and then I have to come into work.”

  Ryan gave him a withering look, one that would have made Pat proud.

  “Sorry. It’s not your fault. I don’t need to be snapping at you.” He put the truck into Park and let off the brake. I just wanted tonight to be perfect. At this rate, we’re going to be really late for our reservations at Cherry Creek Grill. And then we’ll have a shit-ton of fun trying to find somewhere decent that still has availability.”

  Ryan chuckled. “You’re still growling.”

  “Sorry.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He forced a smile on his face and turned back to Ryan, leaned across the console, and gave him a quick kiss. “Have I told you how hot you look tonight? I really love you in green.”

  “You have. But you can tell me as much as you want.” Ryan’s fingertips grazed over Steven’s beard and down his throat, causing him to shudder. Maybe missing dinner wouldn’t be that bad. They could go back to his apartment and just order Chinese food and not wear a stitch of clothing, green or otherwise. “All right, let’s get out of here so I can go growl at Vahin instead of you.”

  Even the heavy, glistening snow that fell around them as they walked into Mary’s irritated him. It really was ridiculous. Vahin never needed him for anything. And tonight. Of all nights. After all the times Steven had covered for him when he wanted a night with Marlon.

  He had to keep his temper. Vahin didn’t deserve it, and he for sure didn’t want to be an ass in front of Ryan. That resolve faded as he and Ryan walked through the front doors. Unless the place was on fire, Vahin was going to get an earful.