The Imperfection of Swans

by Brandon Witt

  Kevin flinched, ripped from his growing arousal. “We’ve just—”

  Scott cut him off with a kiss, his hands finishing Kevin’s belt and moving on to his jeans.

  “Don’t answer now. Just think about it. You can get out of your moms’ again, back into your own space. Our space.” He slid Kevin’s jeans over his hips. “We can do this anytime we want.”

  Kevin desperately wished he’d gotten a pill out of his pocket before his jeans had gathered around his ankles. He looked toward the windows of the brownstone that looked out onto Tremont. They might as well have been spotlit on a stage. He placed a hand on Scott’s chest, not even feeling the bunched muscles in his panic. “Stop, everyone can see us.”

  Scott glanced toward the windows. “Should we charge? We put on quite a show.”

  “I’m serious!”

  Scott’s hand had dipped inside Kevin’s underwear. “It’s late, Kevin, no one is out there.”

  Kevin gripped the band of his underwear, keeping them up. Mostly. He looked around the room. Totally empty. Nothing to even partially hide them. If only they’d left the paper covering the window.

  “If you’re really that uncomfortable, let’s go up to the next level. If people see in there, they have to really be trying.” Scott pulled his hand out and within mere moments had his own pants off. “Let’s christen this place the right way!”

  CASPER

  CASPER HAD gone to bed early. Ten thirty was early. Despite his back becoming stiffer with each night spent on the floor, sleep had turned into a wonderful thing once more, and he couldn’t get enough of it. It was like he’d been living on stale bread and moldy cheese for the past couple of years and suddenly had been given a smorgasbord of hot, fresh food. To sleep without scales being sung or played. To have silence without the incessant clicking of a metronome. To not have any voice humming or singing or whistling. He was in heaven!

  Sure, there were sirens, drunks yelling at times, the squealing of tires, but they were all city sounds. Sounds of Boston. Sounds of everyone else. Out there. Outside the walls. Away from him. Heaven!

  He’d grown so accustomed to having silence, that at first Casper thought the noises were coming from outside.

  And if he were going to be awakened by noises, these were a good kind of noises to have. He lay there for a bit, the sounds making him hard. It had been a while since he’d been involved in those kind of noises. His activities with Brent rarely produced similar noises, at least not any that weren’t forced out of obligation on his part.

  He’d just begun to stroke himself in a matching rhythm when he woke enough to realize the noises weren’t outside the building, but below him.

  For a second, a spike of terror shot through him. Someone was in the brownstone! He shoved that aside instantly, feeling stupid.

  People didn’t break into a store to fuck.

  Fairly quickly, given the foggy, sleepy state of his mind, he realized who it must be. Though in all honesty, he couldn’t picture Kevin coming to the building to fuck either. Casper had him pegged for a satin sheets and rose petals kind of guy. Newly washed and starched satin sheets at that.

  Maybe it was his sleep-addled brain that caused him to choose what he did next. Maybe it was because he’d been starved for sex for way too long. Brent didn’t qualify as sex, not really. Maybe it was just because he could.

  Slipping out of the sleeping bag, he tugged up his boxers, felt around until he found his glasses, and then padded toward the stairs. He’d already learned by now which boards squeaked, and he easily avoided them. Same with the stairs.

  Luck was on his side.

  Casper was able to get a fourth of the way down the stairway, low enough to be able to see through the banister, without being seen.

  It took all of his willpower to not gasp.

  A blond giant had Kevin pressed up against the far wall. At least, he assumed it was Kevin; the blond blocked all view, save for a smaller man’s feet spread apart on the wood floor and hands pressed against the brick wall.

  Casper couldn’t see the blond’s face, but he didn’t need to. He’d only seen a body like that in porn or in those naked rugby player books. All tall, lean, bulging muscles.

  Holy shit. Those muscles!

  The way the man’s ass clenched and curved as he thrust. Fuck.

  Without realizing he was doing so, Casper slipped his hand inside the waistband of his boxers and began to stroke, quickly catching up to the timing the giant was so forcibly setting.

  From the sounds the blond was making, it wouldn’t be too much longer, and Casper was fine with that. It wouldn’t be too much longer for him either.

  The giant lowered his left arm and wrapped it around the other man’s waist. From the new perspective, over the man’s massive shoulder, Casper could just make out Kevin’s profile, his face seemingly pressed against the wall, eyes shut tight.

  The stroking instantly stopped, as did any arousal he felt.

  He rushed back up the stairs, not as careful about making noise. It wasn’t like they’d hear him anyway.

  He felt sick. Disgusted. He’d been turned on by that. Nearly orgasmed to it.

  He felt angry.

  It was then that it hit him.

  He was jealous.

  Then he felt sick all over again.

  Suddenly the whistling, clacking, and humming didn’t sound so bad.

  “I’VE SO been looking forward to this part!”

  Casper grinned at Kevin but avoided eye contact, like he’d done all day. “You’ve been looking forward to shopping for commercial ovens?”

  “Well, no, not exactly, but we get to do something besides cleaning and dreaming!” Kevin ran a finger over a stainless steel handle. “They’re all so sleek and smooth. Rather comforting, actually.”

  “And expensive.” Casper had known getting started from the ground up was going to be daunting, but he was starting to feel a little sick to the stomach.

  “Well, everything is going to be expensive. I say we do as much of the essentials as we can, at as good a quality as we can, and go from there. It’s not like we’re ready to order them anyway, but almost!” Kevin clapped his hands in his excitement. “Want to go look at lighting next? It would be cool if we could find something that would work for both levels, keep it as unified as possible.”

  Man, Kevin was beautiful. It was really starting to eat at him, and he had to get hold of himself. There was no reason to be jealous. And it was the last thing he should be feeling for a business partner.

  He kept telling himself that.

  It didn’t seem to be sinking in yet.

  “Yeah. Lighting will be fun, and cheaper than this, hopefully. As long as you’re not planning on florescent tube lighting, I’m sure we can find something we both agree on.”

  “Shut up! There’s no need to be gross.” Kevin slapped his arm. It actually kinda hurt.

  “Hey, there’s no cause for pain either!” Casper clasped his hand over his stinging arm. He looked over at Kevin, getting ready to tease him about domestic violence, when he noticed the light scrape on the right side of Kevin’s forehead. He looked away quickly. If he hadn’t seen where the wound had come from, he might not have even noticed it. Given how forceful the giant had been, Casper was actually surprised that was all Kevin had walked away with.

  CASPER WAS driving them to the lighting store, when, from the corner of his eye, he saw Kevin swivel around in his seat to face him.

  “Okay. Out with it.”

  He kept his eyes on the road, but his palms grew instantly damp against the steering wheel. “Out with what?”

  “Don’t play games with me, Casper James. We may not have known each other long, but I can tell when something is wrong with the co-owner of Bella Dolce. You’ve been distant and strange all day long.”

  At that, Casper did glance over. “Strange! That’s not nice.”

  Kevin shrugged unapologetically. “I’m not the one acting strange. And keep y
our eyes on the road. I’m rather looking forward to arriving in one piece to pick out lighting.”

  “Bossy,” Casper muttered grumpily, but couldn’t keep the half grin off his face. Though Kevin had a point—the roads were slick with a light coating of snow.

  “You have no idea. I’m not Renata’s son for nothing. Now, out with it.”

  Dear Lord, this was embarrassing. Casper tapped his forehead. “Well, I might have been with you when you were… uhm… receiving that Saturday night.”

  “When I was receiving wha—” Kevin’s voice dropped. “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  They sat in awkward silence, both of their gazes focused on the winter road.

  At last Kevin spoke up, his voice strained. “How much did you see?”

  “Well, I know there was a wall involved, and you apparently like to be ramrodded by porn stars.”

  “That was Scott.”

  “Yeah. Figured.”

  “My ex.”

  Casper nodded, wanting to die. “Yeah. Figured he was.” Actually, he wanted to kill.

  “And, ramrodded, really?”

  “Hey, if you can take it, own up to it. That was impressive, and nothing to be ashamed of.” Even as he joked about it, a picture of Kevin taking it from him instead of stupid Scott rose into his mind. He shoved it away, reminding himself of his own assessment. Kevin’s not-so-ex was total porn-star material. That was the kind of guy Kevin went for. Not the short, four-eyed, baker types.

  Again. Business partner. What was his brain not getting about that?

  “I, ah….” He cleared his throat. “I just want you to know I didn’t see the end. I mean, I didn’t hang around for—”

  Kevin held out his hands. “Oh God, stop! Seriously, stop.”

  He had heard it, though.

  How he wished he hadn’t. He’d kept hearing it. For the past day and a half that was all he could hear.

  More awkward silence.

  “I didn’t even think about you sleeping there. I’m so sorry.”

  Casper just shrugged.

  “That will never happen again. I promise. It was totally unprofessional of me.”

  “Oh, come on.” Casper glanced over, trying to ease the strain. “It wasn’t unprofessional. You didn’t do it in the middle of business hours or anything. And you didn’t know I was there.”

  “Yes, I did. We’d already talked about it.”

  “Well, right, but you didn’t think about me being there.”

  Another long pause. “You can bring Brent there as payback if you want. Though, I absolutely refuse to watch that happen. Oh Lord. I bet you already have. Shit.” Kevin flailed his hand about in front of his eyes. Casper couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not. “I can’t quit seeing it! I can’t quit seeing it!”

  “Okay. Now you stop.”

  Kevin chuckled. “Well, I am sorry. That… at the shop… wasn’t my idea.”

  “Didn’t look like you were complaining.” Casper felt another surge of angry jealousy. “Not that I blame you. I didn’t even see the guy’s face, but I could tell every part of him is gorgeous. No wonder you’re willing to give him a second chance.”

  “Yeah, well….”

  They were almost to the lighting store before Casper spoke again. “So, I’ve been kind of thinking, if you wouldn’t mind, how would you feel about me officially moving into the apartment? I could take what I’m paying in rent and put it toward our mortgage instead.”

  Kevin didn’t hesitate. “I kinda figured you would. I was already thinking that when we get the floors redone, we might as well do the apartment. Better than having to do it later and them lugging all the equipment through the dress shop and bakery. That could really disrupt business.”

  Risking another glance from the road, Casper grinned at Kevin. “Seriously? You don’t mind?”

  “Nope. Honestly, it would feel better to have it all done. It would make my mind go a little nuts knowing the space was unfinished when the other two levels are perfect. It would just nag at me.”

  “That would be amazing. Thank you!”

  “Don’t you want to wait until we have a water heater and shower and stuff?”

  “I’ll make do. I just want to be out of that apartment.” Another look away from the road. “Thank you, Kevin. I really appreciate it.”

  Kevin just shrugged.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to keep the place as a sex den for your blond porn star?” Why was he joking about that again?

  “Oh, please shut up.”

  SHOPPING FOR lighting was actually fun. Both he and Kevin reverted to acting like kids in a candy store. A sales clerk accompanied them for about ten minutes before being frightened away and telling them to just let her know when they needed something.

  “It’s feeling real, isn’t it?” Kevin pointed to a small chandelier with multicolored crystals dripping from every curve. He tapped one of them, setting orange-hued refractions dancing over his skin. “And, really? Who would buy this, and why aren’t they already in jail?”

  Casper wasn’t about to say that he could actually see it in the right setting. It could be kind of fun and kitschy. “It is. It’s getting easier to believe that we might have an honest to goodness shop in a few months.”

  “Yeah, electrical starts next week, and we should get all the clearances of licenses and tax numbers and all that crap back soon. I thought it was never going to end.”

  “No joke. Although I’m kinda betting it doesn’t. That was a good thing about being the chef for someone else. A whole lot less paperwork.” He walked to a huge display of about forty different styles of hanging light pendants, ranging from a simple black cord, to ones in wire cages, to others that looked like they were out of a steampunk novel. “These were what I was picturing. Several of these hanging in a row over my display station.”

  Kevin tilted his head and looked at the lamps as if they might have been guilty of a crime.

  “Or not. If you hate them, we won’t waste time with them—”

  “No, hold on. I’m slowly getting used to this aesthetic that we’ve got going. These could go really well with the exposed brick.” He reached up to one of the industrial caged fixtures and turned it back and forth. “Convince me.”

  “Uhm, okay….” Casper closed his eyes for a second, trying to picture how Kevin had been talking about the layout of the dress shop. “Okay. So, you know how you mentioned that you want it all split up by designers, each one with their own dressing room, mirror, and pedestal and such, with couches and chairs for the bride’s friends? Well, picture a cluster of these, maybe three or five of them hanging at different lengths at each one of those stations.”

  He opened his eyes to find Kevin staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. “What? Stupid idea?”

  Kevin curved his lips into a half grin and opened his mouth to speak, then seemed to think better of it. Instead he looked back at the lights. “You know, you could have had a decent go of it in advertising. I’m sold.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Kevin put his hand out, his body wavering slightly, then regained his balance.

  Casper stepped closer. “Kev, are you okay? You’re a little pale.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” He waved Casper off. “It’s perfect timing, really. We can tape off the sections of the changing rooms and modeling area and show the lighting guy next week exactly where—”

  Kevin put his hand out again, grasping one of the standing light fixtures.

  Casper saw Kevin’s eyes roll back in his head and rushed forward, calling out, but didn’t make it before Kevin fell, taking several lampstands down with him on the way.

  KEVIN

  BEFORE HE opened his eyes, the incessant electronic beeping filled Kevin’s ears. A shoe squeaked on linoleum. The constant buzz of chatter was hushed and tentative.

  His head hurt.

  He felt foggy, achy.

  And he knew where he was just from the smell.
The too-clean, too-chemical, too-antiseptic smell belonged to only one place.

  Tenderly, he opened his eyes, then shut them for a moment.

  Fuck, it was bright.

  He tried again, this time making out a fuzzy face in front of him.

  “Hey, Kev. You with me?”

  The face came into view. Casper.

  Kevin blinked a couple of times and brought Casper into sharper focus. He reached out his hands and lifted Casper’s glasses off his face.

  He inspected.

  Huh.

  “Your face is totally symmetrical. I swear it’s completely the same on both sides. It’s like a perfect drawing.” He touched the corner of Casper’s mouth lightly with his thumb. “Even the way the corners of your lips turn up. Exactly the same on each side.”

  “Wow, Kev, what kind of meds did they give you?” Casper’s chuckle seemed forced and self-conscious.

  “No, really.” He sounded a little slurred, kind of drunk. He attempted to correct that. “It’s relaxing to look at your face. Very soothing.”

  It really was. Looking at Casper’s features seemed to make his heart rate slow. There was nothing to fix. His face was well organized.

  Casper laughed genuinely, the sound also soothing. “My face is well organized?”

  Kevin hadn’t realized he’d said that out loud.

  “I have the card catalog of faces.” Casper smiled at him from where he sat beside the bed. His smile seemed to falter at his next words, but maybe Kevin was making things up. “Luckily, Scott is on his way, and his face is a lot better than well organized, I am sure. Your moms are on their way as well.”

  The beeping over his shoulder increased its rhythm. “They’re all coming here? Why?” He tried to sit up, but a sword of light struck behind his eyes, and he relaxed back into the pillow.

  “Kev, you’re in the emergency room. I thought you’d want your family and your boyfriend… er, ex-husband… or whatever, so I called them from your phone.”

  Kevin groaned. He attempted to rub his head with his hand, but something snagged on the bed rail.