Deeds & Confetti

 

Steven Conley loves owning his own Hamburger Mary’s restaurant in Denver, Colorado, and his chosen family of coworkers makes life even better. Steven never regretted leaving the corporate grind behind until his father’s harsh deathbed words leaves him doubting himself.

Ryan Fuller abandoned a lucrative career to start his own party-planning business, but he keeps afloat by coordinating funerals. When Ryan bumps into Steven—his best friend’s uncle and the man Ryan has secretly crushed on forever—the attraction explodes into a night of passionate abandon for both men.

Steven is blown away by the care and deep connection he feels for the hot young funeral director—until Ryan admits who he really is. Reeling from the recent upheaval in his life, Steven must decide whether to give Ryan a chance. To find love, they must risk it all…

 

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People left slowly. Ryan stayed in the office until they were nearly all gone. Once he saw Steven leave, he felt safe enough to reemerge.

Within another twenty minutes, Pat and her children were getting ready to leave. He hugged Pat and Topher, promising he’d be the one with them at the funeral in a couple of days.

Then he was alone.

He’d only had two other open-casket wakes, but he’d learned quickly that the first order of business was to close the casket. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling to shut down the funeral home, then walk back into the sanctuary only to forget there was a dead body glistening in the dim light. He didn’t plan on ever hearing himself make the startled squeal of a scream again.

Once Mr. Conley was securely back in the safety of his confines, Ryan went about picking up. Not that there was much to do. The family had been clean and respectful, of course.

He’d finished refreshing the bathrooms and paused outside the sanctuary doors. He saved putting the casket back into the cold room for last. Like closing the casket, he should do it first thing, but he had to work himself up to it. He hated going down there, knowing he was surrounded by dead bodies, even if they were all locked up out of sight. Stupid or not, refusing to wait for the elevator, he always ran back up the stairs like the hounds of hell were chasing him. Or zombies. He watched way too much of The Walking Dead.

Still feeling foolish for needing to steady himself, Ryan walked into the sanctuary and let out a yelp of fear. This time higher and more scream-like than the time he’d forgotten about the open casket.

The figure standing in front of the reopened casket flinched and turned with a cry of his own. His gaze landed on Ryan. “Holy fuck, dude. You scared the shit outta me.”

Ryan paused between gasps, taking a second to make sure the figure was an actual human and not Mr. Conley come back to life. It wasn’t stumbling toward him or making brain-craving noises, so he figured he was good. “Scare you? You try walking in and finding someone with a dead—” His words fell away as his synapses finally fired once more. Steven Conley. “I… ah….”

The man laughed suddenly. A soft chuckle at first, then giving way to loud, uncontrolled laughter that sounded a touch unhinged. “Fuck, man, I wish you could’ve seen your face. Fucking priceless.” Still laughing, Steven wiped at his eyes. “God, I needed that.”

Ryan took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was still here. Obviously.” A nervous laugh of his own escaped. “I can give you more time.”

Steven glanced back at the casket, then at Ryan. “No, I’m good. Said all I needed to say to the bastard.”

Ryan flinched.

“Sorry. I know you’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead. Whatever.” Steven turned away, facing the coffin. He mumbled something Ryan couldn’t hear, then shut the lid and latched it. He patted the coffin, harder than necessary, before looking back at Ryan. “Get through the funeral and then this thing is done. Finally.” He strode down the aisle, straightening his broad shoulders as he walked. “Sorry again. Wasn’t trying to scare ya.”

Ryan’s heartbeat didn’t slow from the adrenaline rush as Steven walked closer; it simply altered from one type of fear to another. “It’s… uhm… okay.”

Steven paused as he came up beside Ryan. His light blue eyes rose and met Ryan’s gaze.

Ryan waited for recognition. Nothing. No spark or dawning light. Then Ryan realized he was staring.

He started to look away, but then he realized something else. Steven was staring too.

And then he didn’t try to look away, he just stared back, feeling heat build between them. Tried to decide if what he felt was actually happening or if he was imagining it.

The moment probably only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like minutes. Long, long minutes. Minutes that went from staring into Steven’s eyes to imagining his lips on Ryan’s, to picturing him naked and sweating above him. Yeah, he was delusional.

Steven’s voice was so low, even in the silence it was barely audible. “Wanna get outta here?”

Holy shit. Ryan had fantasized about this moment during a million masturbation fantasies. And here it was. Happening in real life.

He started to nod, then felt the presence of the dead nearby. He glanced at the coffin, finally breaking eye contact, and gave a little laugh. “Did you just ask me if I wanted to get out of here, like we’re in a bar or something?”

Steven also turned toward the coffin, stared at it for several long moments, then looked back at Ryan. His gaze was still heated, but there was hardness that wasn’t there before. “Yeah. I did. You’re hot. I’m hot. You’re interested, I can tell. I’m interested.” He motioned toward the casket. “I’m done worrying about what that fucker thinks. If you’re willing, I’ll go down on you right here, right now.”

Ryan’s brain short-circuited again. How could something be the answer to all his fantasies while being the furthest thing from them? “Uhm, yeah. I’m interested. And I don’t think there’s any other place in the world I’d turn that offer down but here. I can’t here. Maybe go to your place? Or mine?”

Disappointment flitted across Steven’s face, but then it was replaced by lust again. “Yeah. Come on.” Without waiting, Steven walked out of the sanctuary toward the front doors at the other end of the vestibule.

Hesitating only a second, Ryan followed. He needed to get the casket to the cold room, but whatever. He’d text the owner on his way over to Steven’s and say he had an emergency. So what if he got in trouble or fired. He wasn’t passing this chance up.

Ryan paused long enough to at least lock the front doors before following Steven into the parking lot.

Steven grabbed his hand and pulled him toward a massive pickup truck. Then he pushed Ryan’s back against the driver’s side door. “I don’t wanna wait until after the drive home.”

Review Posted for the first release

Brandon Witt received his roots in the Ozark, grew wings in Denver, and is learning to fly in New Orleans. When not snuggled on the couch with his two dogs and his partner, Stephen, he is more than likely in front of his computer, nose inches from the screen, fingers pounding the keys.

 

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