The Mary's Boys Collection

by Brandon Witt

  And Steven wanted him again.

  Maybe he’d go back to the funeral home after all this was over.

  After telling Pat goodbye, Steven got stuck listening to his ancient cousin—or great-aunt, Steven wasn’t sure. Small price to pay to avoid the potluck Pat was having at her house with the entire extended family. She’d made it clear to Steven that he was to go directly to Mary’s and throw himself into living again. He hadn’t even pretended to resist. Pat would find comfort in the family’s presence. He’d want to bash his head into a wall. The only family he cared about was Pat and her kids. The rest could flit away forever.

  As what’s her face continued to blabber on and on, Steven kept watching the man in the distance. He was a little startled as the guy hugged Pat and his oldest nephew goodbye. Apparently very sweet as well as dedicated to his work. That gorgeous and kind?

  After Pat and her family drove away, the man began to walk toward a line of cars on the far side of the parking lot. Steven loved Mary’s, but he suddenly realized that wasn’t what he needed right now. What he needed was walking away. Barely looking and turning only long enough to glance at his aunt, cousin… something, in the eye, Steven reached out and gave her frail arm a light squeeze. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I know Pat is needing help getting everything ready at her house for the meal. I’ll see you there, right?”

  He didn’t wait for a response before walking away. He made it about four strides before he broke into a jog.

  The man had just stepped into his car and shut the door. Steven increased his pace, reaching the car just as the engine turned over. He knocked on the window, causing the man to flinch and whip around wide-eyed.

  His expression changed from surprise to… something else. Lust? Not quite. He almost looked nervous. Shit, Steven had read him wrong. Now he was probably wondering how to get rid of the old man who he’d given a pity fuck to the other night.

  The window rolled down, and the man smiled tentatively. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” He shouldn’t have done this. Stupid. He should’ve stayed with his aunt or gone to Mary’s, or hell, gotten his rocks off at the bathhouse with someone his own age. “Hey.”

  Holy fuck. Say something besides hey.

  “Hey.” The man gave a laugh.

  Steven relaxed a bit at the kindness in the guy’s face. He really was gorgeous. “We didn’t exchange names the other night.” He stuck out his hand through the window. “I’m Steven.”

  “I know.” The man’s smile faltered. “I mean, you’re Pat’s brother, the deceased’s son….” He flushed and took Steven’s hand. “I’m Ryan.”

  Steven told himself to let Ryan’s hand go, but he didn’t. They stared at each other, and Steven quit wondering if he’d been a pity fuck. It didn’t matter what his mental state was, he wasn’t imagining the desire in those brown eyes.

  He didn’t know what he’d been planning to say. He’d just needed to catch the guy before he drove away. And now, what was he supposed to do? Thank him?

  “Will you come home with me?”

  The man’s eyes—Ryan’s eyes—widened. “Seriously?”

  God, he was making a fool of himself. Completely. Steven released Ryan’s grip and pulled his hand back through the window. “Sorry. I….” He gave up. There was no explaining his actions. None. “Sorry.” He turned away.

  “Yes.”

  Steven paused, then angled back around. It probably didn’t mean what he’d thought.

  Ryan’s cheeks had blossomed to a rosy color. “I’ll go home with you. I’d like that.”

  Ryan followed Steven’s truck. They didn’t speak as they each got out of their cars and walked to the front door of Steven’s apartment.

  They made it into the elevator. Steven suddenly wished they’d met a few years ago. Back when he had money, when he had a beautiful Cherry Creek house. All that was gone into mortgages, deeds, and remodels. He was bringing this beautiful man to his dated apartment he hadn’t even bothered to decorate. At least it was clean.

  Steven hit the button for the eighth floor, then glanced over at Ryan. He seemed nervous. Maybe scared, even. Shit.

  The elevator doors separated, and Steven put his hand out, holding them open.

  Ryan hesitated.

  “If you’ve changed your mind, it’s okay.” Steven sounded like he meant it, which was a surprise. He didn’t. He hadn’t been remotely close to tears all day, not for a second. But if Ryan went back down the elevator, Steven knew with certainty he’d lock himself in his apartment and break.

  There was that smile again, nervous and beautiful. “No, I’ve not changed my mind. I’m just kind of blown away you want to be with me again, to be honest.”

  An explosion of a laugh burst from Steven, a mix of disbelief and nerves. Then he noticed Ryan’s change of expression. “Oh, you’re serious.”

  Ryan didn’t answer for a few seconds, then gave a slight nod, as if making a decision. “Come on.” He stepped off the elevator, and Steven followed.

  Steven led the way to his apartment, unlocked it and opened the door, then let Ryan walk through first. “Sorry, I’ve been so busy with the restaurant for the past while, I’ve not decorated my apartment. It’s kinda sparse.”

  When he relocked the door and turned around, whatever nerves Ryan had been feeling had vanished. “I’m not worried about your apartment.” Taking notes from Steven’s playbook from the other night, Ryan stepped forward, invading Steven’s space, pushed him against the door with the weight of his muscled body, and kissed him.

  It caught Steven so off guard he’d kept his eyes open for a moment, shocked to feel the force in Ryan’s kiss. When long fingers sank into his beard, Steven closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. For several moments his arms hung at his side as he was completely captured by Ryan’s kiss, the tenderness of his lips and the gentleness of his fingers as they traced his face.

  Of the passion he felt flowing from Ryan.

  He’d never had a kiss like it. At least not this soon. Maybe after a few dates or weeks of flirting and playing cat and mouse. Never like this. Not when he’d just learned a man’s name. There was desire there, no doubt, but there was more. Like Ryan actually cared about him.

  At last Ryan pulled away a few inches, his light brown eyes staring directly into Steven. Into his soul. Stupid or not, that’s how it felt. Like Ryan was assessing all parts of him and, unbelievably, liked what he saw.

  “I want to have you inside of me.” As in the other brief moments with Ryan, Steven seemed to lose his filter or willpower. “Will you make love to me?” The words were out of his mouth before he’d considered them. The meaning sinking into him as they caused Ryan to flinch. Steven rushed on, before the moment was ruined. “Fuck me, I mean. Please, fuck me.”

  Ryan only nodded.

  He hadn’t ruined it. Thank God. He hadn’t meant to say that. Why the hell—

  He cut off that train of thought. No reason to go there. “Uhm, let me take a shower really quick. It’s been a… long day.”

  Ryan nodded again. Steven started to move away, but Ryan spoke, sounding unsure. “Actually, it’s been a long day for me too. May I join you?”

  And just like that, the erection, which hadn’t lessened since they’d started to drive away from the graveyard, became painful. It was his turn to be speechless, so he simply nodded.

  Ryan followed him to the bathroom. Steven turned on the shower, waited until the water got to the right temperature, then faced Ryan, who was only inches away.

  Ryan reached out and took Steven’s tie in his hands and began loosening it. “May I undress you?”

  Again, all he could do was nod.

  The tie was gone and the first three buttons of his shirt were undone. Ryan slipped his hand into the opening, his fingers brushing through Steven’s chest hair and then squeezing his muscle.

  They both groaned, their eyes met, and then they laughed.

  Another stroke over Steven’s chest and Ryan
returned to unbuttoning his shirt, then finally pulled it out of his slacks and over his shoulders. “Holy shit, you are gorgeous. I’ve wanted to see you like this since… uhm… since I saw you the first time.”

  Steven normally wasn’t self-conscious about his looks in the slightest, but the combination of Ryan’s beautiful face and age made the moment surreal. As Ryan unbuckled Steven’s belt, Steven began undoing Ryan’s tie and shirt.

  Things sped up then—shoes, pants, underwear, socks gone, scattered over the linoleum floor. Ryan leaned in to kiss him. Steven held him back, taking in his large body. Lean muscle, defined but elegant somehow. Trimmed, reddish brown hair over his chest and stomach. Even the hair around his thick erection was orderly. So unlike Steven’s own unkempt forest of body hair. Ryan was the epitome of handsome. Steven reached out again and traced his fingers over Ryan’s chest, down his stomach, and then over his cock, and was rewarded with a shudder. “You are beautiful.” He glanced up to Ryan’s face just in time to see some emotion pass behind Ryan’s eyes. He couldn’t tell what it was. Sorrow, relief?

  Whatever it was, it faded. Ryan stepped around him and into the shower. “Come on.”

  Steven did. He stepped in and had barely pulled the curtain closed before Ryan had him against the newly heated tile of the shower and kissed him. And once more, Steven was both baffled and swept away by the emotion that seemed to pour from Ryan’s kiss. Both water and Ryan’s hands moved down Steven’s body, the sensation of being caressed all over making Steven limp against the shower wall. He couldn’t believe what he was feeling. Like he was desired, loved. Like he was the answer to everything the beautiful young man had been longing for. If he paused to consider it, even for a moment, he knew he’d see the ruse, the truth of it all. That it was just sex. Just the heat of the moment creating a deception. That he was in an emotional spot and he needed to feel something more than lust. Steven knew every bit of that was true. So he turned off his brain and let the illusion of love and desire overtake him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Ryan Fuller

  The white faux wooden blinds gaped enough for Ryan to see the gray morning outside. He squinted. Snow. The first snow of the season, later than normal. Gently he pushed closer to the warm, hairy body at his back. Feeling silly, he laced his fingers between Steven’s and pulled his arm tighter around him. Steven sighed but didn’t give any other indication of waking up.

  Ryan was asking to get hurt; he knew that. It was one thing to have sex with Steven. It was another entirely to lie in bed, wrapped in his thick arms, and let himself pretend the snowy morning was anything other than it was.

  Steven let out a long breath, warm against Ryan’s neck, smelling of sleep. Ryan wrinkled his nose, but took pleasure in the reality of it. Sure, it wasn’t a sign of things to come, but it was what he’d always fantasized about. More than.

  In his adolescent fantasies, he’d walk in on Steven coming out of the shower and he’d drop to his knees, servicing him before Steven could protest. In a lot of ways, getting fucked in Steven’s truck had been on par with that fantasy. This? His fantasies didn’t even come close.

  He’d never considered being inside of Steven, of having him turn around in the shower and open himself up. Never imagined feeling need so strong from the man he measured all others against, as Steven dried him off and pulled him into bed.

  Ryan had woken in the middle of the night, shocked that he’d fallen asleep, and started to slide out from the covers to leave. Even in sleep, Steven had reached for him, pulled him close, and then pushed into him. Within a few thrusts, Steven had woken enough to pull out, grab a condom and lube, and claim Ryan again.

  There was a bit of shame, knowing he would’ve let Steven fuck him raw, come inside him, simply because he was Steven. Shame that part of him wished that had happened. But this was better.

  There was no worry or fear. If anything, he felt protected and cared about. That Steven put Ryan first, over his desire, even without being asked.

  Yeah, so much more than he’d ever dared to imagine.

  And it was going to hurt like hell when Steven sent him away and it was over. But even so, it was worth it. Completely worth it.

  He woke up again to Steven’s large hands moving over his body. Though snow still fell, the sun had emerged, making the room bright.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” More warmth on his neck.

  Ryan groaned but couldn’t suppress a grimace at Steven’s breath.

  “Oh, sorry.” Steven laughed and started to pull away.

  Ryan latched on to his arm and held him in place. “I kinda like it. Something must be wrong with me.”

  Another laugh. “Yeah, if you like my morning breath, something really must be wrong with you.” Steven kissed the back of Ryan’s neck.

  Ryan could wait. He didn’t have to tell Steven. He’d just let it keep going. Maybe it would keep going. If he kept his mouth shut.

  “Thanks for staying the night. I normally prefer to sleep alone, but… I don’t remember the last time I woke up feeling this good. Something might be wrong with you and your sense of smell, but I think you might be a little bit magic.”

  What would it hurt? It wouldn’t be lying. Being quiet wasn’t deceitful.

  Steven gave him a squeeze and then pulled his arm away and sat up in bed. “So, I don’t mean to be pushy or sound needy, and I’ve heard you’re supposed to give these things a day or two before you ask, but… fuck it. I’d like to do this again. Maybe take you out. Or just this, if you’re not comfortable with the other.”

  Goddammit.

  Ryan shifted, turning to face Steven, and pushed himself into a seated position. He looked into Steven’s gray-blue eyes. They seemed hopeful, nervous. About him. Yeah, more than Ryan had ever dared dream. He glanced away, hating himself. “So I need to tell you something.”

  “Oh.” Just like that, Steven’s voice hardened. “You have a boyfriend.”

  “No.” Ryan shook his head; at least it wasn’t that bad. At least he didn’t think so. “No boyfriend.”

  “Okay. That’s good.” Steven sounded a bit hopeful again.

  “We, ah….” He glanced back at Steven. “We actually know each other, kinda. We’ve met a few times.”

  Steven’s brows creased. “Oh, shit. Was I drunk? I think I’d remember sleeping with you, even drunk, but—”

  Ryan couldn’t help but laugh. God, he wished. “No. We’ve never slept together. And we’ve not seen each other for pushing a decade, almost.”

  “Okay.” Steven was wary.

  “My last name is Fuller. I’m Ryan Fuller.”

  He waited for the reaction. None came. “Okay, then. I’m sorry. Are you famous or something?”

  Ryan experienced a moment of hurt that Steven didn’t know his name. Maybe most uncles didn’t know their nephew’s friends. “No. Ryan Fuller. Topher’s best friend growing up. I saw you at his house several times.”

  “Ry—” Steven’s eyes widened, then narrowed as he inspected Ryan’s face before widening again. “Ryan Fuller. Holy shit. Yeah, I kinda do remember that name. And now I can kinda see your face too. I mean I can remember seeing—” His words broke off.

  “Yeah. That’s me.” Ryan forced a smile and started to reach for Steven’s hand, but changed his mind and resettled it into a fist on his lap.

  “Oh fuck.” Steven let out a groan. “That means….” He wiggled his fingers in time with tiny head nods. “Topher is twenty-eight.” Steven faced him again. “You’re twenty-eight?”

  He almost lied. “Twenty-seven, actually. Topher was a year ahead of me.”

  “Oh my God. That means….” A disgusted look crossed his face. “That means I was twenty, almost twenty, when you were born.” He glanced down between them, almost in accusation, at the sheets. “And we just—”

  Ryan tried to make his tone humorous; he wasn’t sure he succeeded. “I’m twenty-seven, Steven. I wasn’t just born. We didn’t do anything wrong.”


  It didn’t look like Steven agreed with him. “I’m so sorry. If I’d have known, I never would’ve… well….”

  Wow, that hurt just as much as Ryan thought it would. “I’m glad we did. I’ve always wanted to be with you. And it was so much better than I ever thought it would be. I just—” He stopped talking as Steven’s expression grew more horrified. If only he’d kept his stupid mouth shut.

  Steven didn’t speak, just shook his head. Maybe in disbelief or in denial. Maybe disgust again.

  For a moment, irritation cut through Ryan’s hurt. “I’m almost thirty, Steven. Not a child. You’re overthinking this.”

  “Dude, you’re my nephew’s best friend. It’s like I just slept with—”

  “Don’t finish that thought,” Ryan cut him off. “And it’s not like that at all.”

  Steven stared at him, his gaze traveling down Ryan’s naked chest, and then darted away like he’d been caught.

  This time, Ryan did reach out and grasp Steven’s hand. Steven didn’t pull away, so that was a good sign. “You said you wanted to take me out. I’d like that.”

  Steven’s mouth opened, then closed again. He looked down at their hands for a long time, then pulled his hand free. “I’m sorry.” He glanced up, met Ryan’s gaze for a brief moment before looking away.

  Ryan considered arguing. Kissing him, trying to bring back the emotion from the night before. The lust or the moments that had felt like love. Either might work. But he knew they wouldn’t. He gave himself several seconds, and though Steven didn’t look at him, Ryan memorized Steven in that moment. The wavy dark hair, gray at the temples, and just beginning to touch his beard. The deep laugh lines around his eyes. The sloping muscle of shoulders that hunched in some sad emotion. The furry mass of chest and stomach hair disappearing beneath blue sheets that his tanned hands clenched close. “I’ll get my clothes and go.”

  Ryan thought about going home, licking his wounds. Crying. He felt like crying. He wasn’t going to do that. He wouldn’t.

  Instead he drove north on Speer, entered the trendy Highlands Square neighborhood, and parked in the back of Confetti.