The Imperfection of Swans

by Brandon Witt

  Devina just stared at him for a few moments in silence, and then a smile crossed her face as well. She was going to agree. No doubt. And she almost did. Right when Kevin was certain she was about to say yes, her gaze flitted over to Casper, and she leaned back, hesitating. After a moment or two, she stood without speaking, walked over to her wall of designs, and slowly searched through them.

  Even watching her, Kevin’s heart began to accelerate. The designs were gorgeous. Just what his shop needed. He’d be able to make Bella Dolce a success without Devina Malloy, but with her, he’d make it work quicker and easier.

  After extended consideration, Devina pulled out one of her gowns, walked it over to where he and Casper were sitting, and hung it on a stand next to them.

  The gown was Kevin’s least favorite of all her designs. It wasn’t bad, but it just didn’t flow as naturally as her other creations. There was a layering of the fabrics that didn’t feel quite right. He wondered if she’d sensed his thoughts when she’d watched him going through her collection. A bit of apprehension coursed through him as he waited for her next move.

  To his surprise, Devina didn’t look at him, but addressed Casper instead. “Can you design a cake for the woman who would choose this dress?”

  Casper’s lack of the aforementioned poker face made itself apparent once more. He’d not had to do much besides be friendly and professional as Kevin had walked through their business with the other designers. Sweat instantly broke out over his forehead. Kevin tried to think of a way to rescue him—them—from this situation.

  To his surprise, Casper’s voice was clear and strong when he spoke, despite his look of fear. He addressed Kevin. “May I borrow your tablet?”

  Kevin passed it over silently, his gaze flicking up to Devina. She wasn’t looking away from Casper.

  As they observed over his shoulder, Casper quickly downloaded a drawing app and then began to sketch.

  Within seconds, Devina was forgotten, as Kevin was thoroughly captivated by watching Casper move the stylus over the screen.

  Every so often, he’d pause and glance up at the gown, once going so far as to reach out and feel the material. After he did that, he erased the last couple of layers he’d drawn and began again.

  Again a soothing sensation washed over Kevin as he watched Casper. He wasn’t sure if it was Casper himself who caused the sensation—it wasn’t as if Kevin could see his strangely symmetrical face at the moment—or if it was more akin to watching Bob Ross paint his happy little trees. Whatever the source, he was completely captivated.

  In less than ten minutes, Casper handed the tablet to Devina for her inspection. He’d drawn a large, towerlike cake that was somewhat masculine in its structure, and while there were elements that were taken directly from the gown, it was much more a complementary design than a replication of the garment.

  Devina had watched just as closely as Kevin had, caught in the spell of Casper creating, and she didn’t need more than a heartbeat to look at the design before she handed the tablet back to Casper and smiled. When she addressed Kevin, he could almost swear her eyes were glistening. “I’m in.”

  AFTER THE agreements were signed with Devina Malloy, with the inclusion of exclusivity with Bella Dolce for the entire Boston area, Kevin and Casper left the convention area and stepped into the lobby of the building.

  Kevin grabbed both of Casper’s arms, shaking him so Casper had to push up his glasses. A nearly hysterical laugh escaped as Kevin spoke. “That was amazing. Absolutely fucking amazing! I didn’t even like that gown, but after seeing your cake, we are so ordering it!”

  Casper’s smile was both self-conscious and filled with pride. “Yeah, I about panicked there for a moment. I’ve never used a dress as inspiration before.”

  “Well, number one, it’s a gown. And two, if that’s what you can do in a matter of minutes, I can’t even fathom what you’ll create when we have time.” He paused, a thought bringing in a spike of worry. “Can you actually make that thing?”

  Casper snorted. “Are you kidding? That was a fairly basic structure. That will rely solely on piping skills. And those are easy too, just time-consuming.”

  “I am so glad Uncle Tony had to pull out of the loan. Though I hate the reasons. Still, you’re going to make this so much better!” Kevin giggled, actually giggled. “Casper, we’re going to do this! It’s going to be fucking awesome!”

  Casper bit his lower lip as his own grin grew, then let out a laugh of his own. “Yeah. I know! I can’t even believe it.”

  Having never let go of Casper’s arms, without any forethought, Kevin pulled him in and pressed their lips together in a crushing pressure. Beneath his hands, Casper’s arms went rigid.

  Kevin pulled back quickly, startled. “Sorry. I was just overwhelmed for a bit.”

  “Uhm. It’s okay.” Casper cleared his throat. His gaze darted around the lobby, landing everywhere but on Kevin. “Should we, ah, go back in and get the rest of your designers?”

  “Yeah. Good idea.” Kevin nodded, then realized he still hadn’t let go of Casper’s arms. He dropped his hands quickly and turned back toward the convention, then led the way stiffly.

  CASPER

  CASPER WAS fairly certain he’d worked out more in the past three days than he had in the past three weeks. He typically did his best to work out three or four days a week, but those lasted forty-five minutes, tops. Working out with Kevin in the hotel gym felt like boot camp. And that was just with him trying to halfway keep up. Each time, he’d thrown in the towel and gone back to the room until Kevin was finished. Their final night at the hotel was going to be no different.

  He slowed down on the elliptical to a cooldown pace and watched Kevin as he ran, his feet sounding like hammers pounding the poor treadmill. If nothing else, it made Casper less worried about Kevin’s health. It was at least beginning to make some sense. Nobody could work out as hard as Kevin and not lose weight. He had to be the healthiest man in North America. At first Casper had been concerned that Kevin might have had an eating disorder, as he never seemed to eat. But since the visit to the emergency room, it seemed that wasn’t the case. Granted, he thought Kevin might sooner play Russian roulette than sit down and eat an entire slice of cake, but he was eating. Endless salads and raw vegetables. Once in a while, a splurge of grilled chicken breast, even.

  It seemed like a sad existence to Casper. But he was a chef, one who specialized in pastries. He assumed Kevin probably felt similarly about Casper’s lack of interest in fashion. Not that Kevin had much of a choice, it seemed; he’d told Casper that these types of food were the only kind that didn’t trigger his acid reflux. Though it seemed the diet wasn’t helping too much, given the amount of Aciphex he took.

  And, honestly, Casper hadn’t minded watching Kevin work out. He wore tight shorts and an equally tight tank top. The only thing Casper would change would be to make them white instead of royal blue. With the amount of sweat during Kevin’s cardio workouts, it would have made the view even more enjoyable. While not bulky in a bodybuilder way, the man was one compact body of muscle.

  Beautiful.

  Casper had to give himself credit. He’d done a fairly impressive job of being able to stare at Kevin without getting caught. Since that kiss two days earlier, things hadn’t exactly been tense between the two of them, but they’d both been careful to give each other space. Casper wished it would have some effect on his desire for Kevin, but then again, how much could he expect when he allowed himself to stare? It was like an alcoholic licking shot glasses.

  At the thought, Casper got off the elliptical, wiped it dry, and walked over to Kevin, careful to get his attention without touching him.

  Kevin pulled out one of his earbuds. “You done?”

  “Yeah.” He patted his flat stomach. “We fatties can’t keep up with the likes of you.”

  “Meet you up in the room in about—” Kevin glanced at his watch. “—forty minutes.”

  “Works for me
. Still on for tonight?”

  “You bet.”

  Casper took his time, already knowing that forty minutes in Kevin’s workout world was more like an hour. He also took the precaution, as he had every day, of jacking off under the warm shower, doing his best to think of anyone besides Kevin. He succeeded, some of the time. The act was more necessity than anything else. Sleeping in the bed next to Kevin’s was somewhat torturous.

  Sure enough, an hour later Kevin returned to their room to shower and get ready. While he waited, Casper opened his newly purchased journal. Since designing the wedding cake for Devina Malloy, he’d really begun to feel like a genuine part of Bella Dolce. He wasn’t just a baker. He was a wedding dessert specialist. Or at least he needed to be. And he was starting to feel like it. He’d already drafted designs for marzipan doves, wedding bells, and tiny cakes. There were pages of cupcakes that were wedding themed, not to mention cookies of nearly limitless designs. He had plans to come up with ornate tarts and macaroons that could be stacked to resemble tiered wedding cakes. It was perfect. There would be plenty of sales outside of wedding cakes with all the people coming into the brownstone. And he hadn’t even asked Charu to start dreaming up options.

  He couldn’t believe this was actually his real life.

  Finally.

  Finally, but so much sooner than he’d thought possible.

  CASPER AND Kevin stopped for a late dinner before going to the bar. A BBQ pulled pork sandwich for him and a kale salad for Kevin, dressing on the side. Vinaigrette dressing. Who ordered vinaigrette dressing on the side?

  They’d decided to make a night of it. Originally they’d thought the bridal convention had a banquet on the final evening, but Kevin had read the information wrong, so they had an extra night.

  Through a quick GayCities search, Casper had found a trendy gay bar in Chelsea that had a Broadway tunes sing-along every Monday evening, complete with happy-hour prices.

  Kevin had squealed when Casper told him where they were going. Squealed. How a handsome man could squeal at the top of his lungs and still look sexy, Casper had no idea, even though he’d witnessed it.

  Now, three drinks in, Casper was having similar thoughts. Kevin was more than a little tipsy, and what had started as a concerted effort to harmonize with Oklahoma’s “Let People Say We’re in Love” had turned into a full-blown Broadway audition for Mamma Mia’s “Honey, Honey.”

  In addition to somehow maintaining his masculine sex appeal as his voice soared in feminine falsetto, Kevin also managed to be the loudest queen in the room without being obnoxious. In fact, Casper was fairly certain that every man in the bar had fallen in love with Kevin too.

  Not that Casper was in love with Kevin. There was a big difference between being in love and simply lusting after someone. And that’s all he felt for Kevin. Lust. Pure and simple. And like lust must, it would fade. It would. Over time, it would fade.

  It had to.

  Kevin bumped into the high-top table, spilling some of the drinks he’d just brought back. “Oops. Sorry about that!”

  Casper held up his glass. “Kev, I haven’t even finished my last one.”

  “Oh well.” He smiled a self-satisfied smile. “More for me, then.” Despite being drunk, or at least well on his way, it seemed Kevin didn’t slur, either when speaking or singing. “Are you going to come up front with me and dance this time?”

  “You seemed to be doing a spectacular job on your own. Although I can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone attempt to twerk to ‘How do You Solve a Problem Like Maria’ before.”

  “Nailed it.” Kevin whapped the table, spilling more of the liquor.

  Casper couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes. You certainly did.”

  A huge man moved up from behind Casper, walked around the table, and stood behind Kevin, then wrapped his arm over Kevin’s chest. The man’s own chest was bare and covered in sweaty hair.

  Kevin grimaced. “Whoa, slow down there, Mary. Gotta pay before you sample the merchandise.”

  “I’ll pay whatever you ask, hot man. I bet you make one hell of a power bottom.” There was no teasing in the man’s voice.

  Kevin wriggled free. “Okay, number one, gross. We’re not at the gym—dry off. And two, I am not a power bottom. I expect the top to work harder than I do if you’re getting any of this!” He pointed to his ass, raised his drink in the air, and nearly hopped away toward the front of the room to take his place by the screen where Audrey Hepburn was singing about feeling like dancing all night.

  The man looked over at Casper. “If you took off those glasses, you’d be pretty fuckable too.”

  Despite Kevin’s reaction, the man’s sweaty, hairy chest had looked pretty good to Casper. Had being the operative word. “Oh wow. Thanks. Haven’t had a compliment like that in a while.”

  Apparently the man didn’t understand sarcasm. That, or Casper wasn’t as adept at it as he thought he was. “You’re about your friend’s size. You’d be a decent power bottom too.”

  “When I bottom, which is rare, I promise you, I’m more than a decent power bottom.”

  The man started to move back around the table.

  Casper held up his hand. “My friend and I are together, so you might want to look elsewhere.”

  “Please, the size you two are, I could take both of you home and still have enough left to bring in a fourth.” He motioned around the room. “I’ll even let you pick ’em.”

  From the corner of his eye, Casper saw a Clark Kent clone flirting with Kevin. Of course Kevin would get a near Superman, and Casper would end up with Bluto from Popeye. Any attraction to the man had been replaced by repulsion.

  Without answering, Casper picked up his drink, slid off the stool, and made his way toward Kevin.

  “Bitch.”

  Casper channeled Dreamgirls, spun around with his free hand in the air, and snapped. “You know it, gurl.” Then he continued on his way, making sure to put some swing in his too-narrow hips.

  Good God, if his mom could see him right now… she’d probably call James Dobson personally.

  By the time Casper made it to the front of the room, Kevin had already dismissed the Superman wannabe. “You about ready?”

  The question surprised him. He’d thought Kevin would likely want to close out the bar. “Really?”

  Kevin seemed to have sobered a bit. “Yeah. The music’s fun, but I’m not really in the mood to be manhandled. Don’t get me wrong, I like a good manhandling, but not here.”

  Casper had no idea how to respond to that. He was relieved, though. What had started out as fun had moved into seedy fairly quickly. And not the good kind of seedy. The last thing he wanted to do was watch a long string of guys flirt with Kevin when he couldn’t even do it himself.

  Kevin grasped his hand and pulled. “Come on. Let’s get a cab.”

  The cab ride actually brought a little fun back into the evening, lifting the heavy mood that had settled over them. Casper told Kevin about some of the ideas he’d been playing around with, trying to do a broader wedding scheme than simply cakes.

  Kevin was enthusiastic about everything Casper brought up. “I think that’s a great idea. Not only will it bring more people into the shop, but you could also provide those for wedding rehearsal dinners and engagement parties and such. The bride could pick a theme or taste profile or whatever you call it, and have every event leading up to the wedding match, culminating with the gown and wedding cake.”

  “Oh, I like where you’re going with this.” Casper’s mind was starting to move quicker than his words, an experience he always enjoyed. “Charu and I could start working on several base flavor profiles to choose from. Even some savory ones. There’s this pear cake recipe that has gorgonzola icing. It’s maybe the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

  He laughed at Kevin’s shuddering expression. “That sounds like the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard of.”

  “It’s amazing, trust me. However, it’s not for ever
yone. Just like you were talking about on the wedding-dress-pantsuit-corset thingy, we need a few items that make us stand out. We can’t just do endless chocolate, white, and lemon flavored cakes. We gotta keep it fresh.”

  “Fair enough. That makes sense. Actually that cake sounds like something Noelle would like.” Kevin bounced a bit in the seat with excitement. “Oh! I forgot to tell you one of the ideas I had during one of the fashion shows. What if we put a runway down the middle of the shop? Really show off how the gowns move and such.”

  Casper wasn’t able to catch himself in time to keep from making a grimace.

  “No?”

  He held up his hands. “You’re the wedding dress expert, and I’m sure you’d be able to pull it off, but I just can’t see a runway working with the aesthetic you said you’re going for.”

  Kevin slumped a bit. “Yeah, I had the same thought actually.”

  “Well, I’m sure you’d be able to pull it off. You’re a lot classier than me.”

  “Oh, how about this instead.” Kevin’s eyes grew large with excitement again, making him even more beautiful. “What if we had a runway, but only bring it out every quarter or something. We could have these big wedding gown events. Have a fashion show of our own, send out invitations, serve champagne”—he motioned toward Casper—“you could make little hors d’oeuvres that coincide with whatever collections we are exhibiting!”

  They planned the rest of the way to the hotel, at times thrilling at the other’s idea, and then slipping into laughter at some far-fetched fiasco waiting to happen.

  The excitement continued all the way through arriving back to the hotel, getting to their room, and preparing for bed.

  The laughter stopped when Casper exited the bathroom after brushing his teeth and bumped into Kevin, who was sliding the door chain into place. They stood there awkwardly, both forgetting how to move.