Mysterious Marilyn
Part 1
 

The glittery nightlife along Liberty Avenue makes it hard to believe that at one time gay men, and women were hard pressed to find a safe haven to congregate. Most resorted to seedy back alleys, and stretches of public parks to pick up tricks. While others with better connections were privy to more discrete gatherings, at very private locations. Over the years there were a few speakeasies here and there, but police harassment, and threats of exposure made them short lived. That was until a quaint little bar named "Woody's" came along. Considered cutting-edge for its time, "Woody's" sprang up during the sixties, the age of Aquarius, when being different was the latest fad. Word quickly spread, and soon young gays flocked to the avant-garde watering hole for happy hour drinks, that would hopefully lead to even happier nights. When John Travolta gave the world disco fever, "Boy Toy" gave Liberty Avenue its first dance floor, and a bevy of club kids that could rival any that New York had to offer. Not to be outdone by the youngsters, older professional gay men took to "Pistols", where jazz, and martinis ruled. And then there was "Meat Hook", who gave them all the proverbial middle finger with its heavy metal music, and leather daddy attitude. The gay community had finally emerged, but it was divided. It was then that a group of silent investors decided that there needed to be a happy medium, an eclectic fantasy paradise where everyone, and every fetish would be welcomed. That place became known as "Babylon". Yes, many drinks have flowed along Liberty Avenue, but no bar has served more than the original, "Woody's". To this day, it remains the quintessential meeting place on Liberty Avenue.

"Every time we come here it looks like the guys are getting younger, and younger," Ted noticed.

"That's because they are," Michael said.

"Speak for yourself." Brian took a sip of his beer.

"How old are these kids?" Ted continued to look around.

"Barely legal," Emmett said.

"Legal enough." Brian sized up the fresh meat.

"Keep your eyes down, buddy. You're an attached man now," Michael reminded him.

"Yeah," Emmett seconded. "Your dance card is already full. You can't have all of the hott guys."

"I can try," Brian begged to differ.

"At one time, you did," Ted recalled. "My, how time changes. Who would have ever imagined Brian Kinney as a married man?"

"He's not legally married," Michael reminded them. "In this country, marriage is between two people."

"Yeah, a man and a woman," Brian said sarcastically.

Emmett quickly changed the subject. "So, what's it like to come home to two husbands?" he asked.

Brian took another sip of his beer. "It's interesting," he said. "Justin has become quite the little housewife. For some reason that escapes me, he's determined to do everything by himself. He doesn't want a housekeeper. Yesterday I caught him cleaning around my bathroom faucet with a toothbrush. Not only that, he's been watching The Food Network. Every night there's a new gourmet dish that he wants us to try. I'm actually thinking about buying stock in Pepto-Bismol."

"Just think, it was only yesterday that he was running around, shirtless, in this very establishment, showing off his new nipple ring." Ted sighed.

"What about Tony?" Emmett continued.

Brian thought for a moment. "Tony, is Tony," he said. "He's pretty quiet. He really doesn't talk that much, but when he does, you listen."

"The strong, silent type. I like that in a man." Emmett smiled.

"And where do you fit in this merry trio?" Michael asked.

"I keep them both on their toes." Brian grinned. "And on their knees...and on their backs...and on their bellies...and..."

"I think we get it," Michael stopped him.

"So where's the professor tonight, Mikey?" Brian asked.

"Ben had some papers to grade. That's why he couldn't come. What about your husbands?" Michael asked.

"When I left them, they were having a picnic on the floor, in front of the picture window," Brian said.

 

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The picture window overlooking Liberty Avenue was hands down Justin's favorite spot in the loft. He had already made several sketches of the view, and was currently transferring those images onto canvas at his warehouse studio. Tonight the streetlights below were the backdrop for a candlelight, indoor picnic that was meant to be for three, but had narrowed itself down to only two. "Cheers." Justin and Tony clicked their goblets of merlot, and took a sip.

"So, how was the duck?" Justin asked.

"It was interesting," Tony said.

"Interesting good, or interesting bad?" Justin wanted clarification.

"Princess, you know you don't have to cook if you don't want to." Tony side-stepped the question. "I can bring dinner home from The Gazebo every night."

"I know that, but I want us to be a family, a real family. Real families don't eat out every night. They have home cooked meals," Justin said.

"Some real families have chefs, and housekeepers," Tony reminded him. "That wouldn't make us less of a family. Personally, I don't want a June Cleaver."

"A what?" Justin looked puzzled.

"June Cleaver... the Beaver's mom." Tony searched for some kind of recognition in Justin's eyes. "Haven't you ever heard of Leave It To Beaver?"

"No," Justin said.

Tony attempted to explain. "Leave It To Beaver is an old television show about a middleclass, suburban family....."

"A family of beavers?" Justin interrupted him.

"No. The Cleavers were people. Beaver Cleaver was the name of the youngest son," Tony said.

"Beaver. That's kind of a strange name to give a kid," Justin said.

"His real name was Theodore. You're missing the point, princess," Tony digressed. "Beaver's mother's name was June Cleaver. June was the original Stepford wife. She spent the entire series cooking, and cleaning in her pearl necklaces, and high heels, with her hair perfectly coiffed, and she always had a smile on her face."

"That doesn't sound like my mother," Justin said.

"Good, because I don't want that to be you," Tony said. "Justin, this thing called marriage is very new to us, so while we're weaving our way through, trying to find our place in a traditionally hetero institution, I don't want us to lose sight of who, and what we are. I especially don't want you to feel responsible for taking care of me, and Brian."

"But I am responsible," Justin argued. "If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be here. You would be somewhere, living on a fancy estate, probably with someone like David."

"David?" Tony chuckled.

"Yes, David," Justin reiterated. "Let's face it, he is more your type."

"Really?" Tony smiled. "The last time I looked, David wasn't a little blonde, with gorgeous blue eyes."

"You know what I mean." Justin frowned. "He's handsome, he's your age, he's successful, and he's nothing like Brian. It's my fault that you're here....."

"Your fault?" Tony stopped him. "Justin, I've never been one to stay where I'm uncomfortable. If I wanted to be somewhere else, or with someone else, I wouldn't be here. Being here with you and Brian isn't hard for me. I love you both more than you'll ever know, and if the time ever comes when that changes, I give you my word that I won't hesitate to leave. Have I made myself clear?"

"Crystal clear," Justin said.

"Good. Now, I don't want to hear anything else about David, or even Brian tonight. Tonight it's just me and you, princess," Tony said.

"What did you have in mind?" Justin moved closer.

"Do you remember the first night we were together?" Tony asked.

"How could I forget? I was scared to death," Justin admitted. "First, you sent me flowers to the diner. Then you showed up in a long limousine, with a gold bracelet for me, and you offered to take me out for pizza to celebrate my graduation from St. James Academy. Little did I know that the pizza parlor was in Chicago."

"What made you go with me?" Tony asked.

"I had never been on a private jet before, and you were sooo fucking handsome." Justin sighed.

"It rained that night, and I couldn't fly you back home," Tony recalled.

"How did you manage that?" Justin smiled.

"I have my ways," Tony whispered, and leaned in for a kiss.

Umm, the smell of Tony's custom blend cologne. The sound of his voice in lower register. The taste of liquor on Tony's lips. It was all coming back to Justin now. "I took a shower, and then I came downstairs to your study in one of your robes. A thick, white one," Justin said.

"You stood next to the Monet, and I didn't even notice the painting. All I could see was you, and how beautiful you were standing there, still damp, swallowed up in my robe," Tony continued the story.

Justin could feel his cock straining against his jeans. "Do you still have that robe?" he asked.

"I believe I do," Tony said.

"Would you like me to shower for you?" Justin purred.

"Yes, I would." Tony smiled.

 

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The picture window at the loft wasn't the only one with an inspiring view. Ted took exception to a couple strolling hand in hand past Woody's. "Do you see that?"

"See what?" Emmett turned.

"It's a straight couple, just walking along like it's nothing." Ted pointed. "This is your fault, Brian."

"My fault? How is it my fault?" Brian wanted to know.

"They're following Camelot," Michael said. "My ma and I were talking about that today. All of those old, dilapidated houses on her street have been bought by straight couples, with kids!"

"You still talk to Debbie everyday?" Brian frowned.

"There goes the neighborhood," Emmett sighed.

"It's funny how they can just move into our neighborhoods, and we can't even walk through theirs without being harassed," Ted said.

"At least we still have Woody's," Emmett said.

"Not for long," Ted predicted. "It's just a matter of time before breeders move in here too. Before you know it we'll have greasy, overweight guys in backward baseball caps, bellied up to the bar, guzzling Budweiser, with their butt cracks showing."

"Ew." Emmett shivered.

"I doubt it. Not as long as we still have her." Brian motioned toward the far end of the bar at a Liberty Avenue living icon, Mysterious Marilyn.

No one knew exactly where the old drag queen came from. It was rumored that she was once famous in burlesque, overseas. When she retired, Marilyn returned to Pittsburgh where she invested her money in a small bar that she called "Woody's". But that was only a rumor. The only thing anyone knew for sure was that Mysterious Marilyn was always there, circulating among the patrons, in the same dowdy lace dress, and curly black wig, and a big red rose on the side of her hair.

"Numerology, palm readings, Tarot, twenty dollars." Marilyn strolled over to the group.

"No thanks." Brian immediately dismissed her.

The old queen looked at him. "I remember you. You're the one with the little blonde, and now you have another man," she said.

"Wow. How did she know that?" Emmett was instantly intrigued.

"How could she not know that?" Brian wasn't impressed. "Who doesn't know that I'm fucking Tony and Justin? Everybody on Liberty Avenue knows about The Royal Trio," he said.

Emmett turned to Marilyn. "Can you tell him something else?" he said.

"That will be twenty dollars, please." She held out her hand.

"A fool and his money are soon parted," Brian grumbled as Marilyn slipped Emmett's twenty dollar bill down, inside the top of her dress.

"What would you like to know?" Marilyn turned to Brian.

"Ask him. He's the one who paid you." Brian motioned toward Emmett.

"He's a newlywed, and we want to know if it's going to last," Michael added his two cents.

Mysterious Marilyn placed a deck of Tarot cards on the bar, in front of Brian. "Cut the cards please," she said.

"Fine. I'll play along." Brian took one half of the deck, and placed it next to the other.

Marilyn put the deck back together, and began laying the cards face down on the bar in a diamond shape pattern of four. She turned over the first one. "The empress. The sign of fertility."

"Well that one is wrong. I know Justin isn't pregnant, and Tony is way past menopause," Brian said mockingly.

Marilyn sneered at the impudent non-believer. "The empress is also the symbol of commitment, and partnership," she snapped.

"Keep going," Ted encouraged her.

Mysterious Marilyn turned over the second card. "The lady and the lion. She is the symbol of strength, and represents courage under the most difficult of circumstances."

"This just keeps getting better, and better. I'll have another beer, over here!" Brian called for the bartender.

"Shh!" Emmett shushed him.

Marilyn continued on with the third, and finally the fourth cards. "The fool. He is the seeker, the child in us, the immature one. The last card is the magician. The symbol of consciousness, and awareness."

"So what does it all mean?" Emmett asked eagerly.

"It means that you just paid twenty dollars for a parlor game," Brian said.

Marilyn looked at Brian, then back at the cards, and finally back at Brian. "Foolish, contemptuous one," she hissed. "The strong one.......the one who doesn't talk much.....he knows. He knows!"
 

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