“Andi, I’d like you to meet the man in my life. He lacks a sense of humor, he’s far too responsible, his taste in clothing leaves a lot to be desired, and he has a fetish for collecting doilies. And for some reason, I still love him. This is Lionel,” said Casey, tilting his head Lionel’s way. “We came by to officially welcome you to the neighborhood. We brought cake.”
Casey flipped open the lid on the box, and my eyes must have grown to the size of saucers. The multilayered, chocolate heart-attack waiting to happen looked wicked enough to wipe Decker clean from my mind. I wiped my chin to make sure I wasn’t drooling.
“Hi, Lionel, it’s nice to meet you,” I said, stepping around the bookshelf, my eyes fixed on the cake.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Andi. And there is nothing wrong with the way I dress,” Lionel added, casting Casey a small frown.
As I stepped forward, the two men looked me up and down with equally impressive frowns.
“She’s got that whole Cinderella thing going on, doesn’t she?” murmured Casey.
I ignored his jab at my attire; I had a date with a cake. “Ya’ll want to come up to the studio and split that?” I nodded to the cake. Both men nodded and smiled as they followed me to the stairs that led to my apartment.
“You really shouldn’t just invite strangers into your home,” Lionel said with a shaking of his finger.
“Well, I’ve already met Casey, so he’s not a stranger, and I’m assuming my virtue is safe as you’re both gay, right?” I asked matter-of-factly.
“Whatever gave it away?” Casey gasped with sarcasm.
I glanced over my shoulder as they followed me up the stairs. “Well, if the cock queen comment on your entry didn’t give it away, the spandex would have.”
As we stepped into my apartment, the men began inspecting everything like a scientist might a new species of bug.
“I’ve been begging Casey to give up the spandex for years. He’s like a dog with a bone though; once he grabs hold of something, he just refuses to put it down.”
“Spandex is a privilege, not a right. So while I’m privileged enough to pull it off, I might as well. And, as I recall, you don’t mind when I play with your bone,” purred Casey.
I coughed, trying to disguise my bark of laughter as I found some plates in one of the many unpacked boxes. I also managed to find a knife and quickly dissected the chocolate heaven into three slices and plated it up. As I handed Lionel his he looked aghast.
“You’re going to eat all of that?” he asked, surprised.
I shoved a spoonful of cake in my mouth and groaned loudly. “Uh huh,” was all I could manage.
“Where on earth do you put it?” Casey asked seriously as he looked me over. I was small, and I had a fast metabolism. As a teenager, I had bordered on ridiculously skinny and had been the butt of many toothpick jokes. I secretly hoped those perfectly rounded teenage bodies were now huge and unhappy.
“Leave the girl alone, you shrew,” chastised Lionel as he sat at my small kitchen table. “I love this setting, shabby chic, very fashionable.”
“Ohhh, you’ve got one of those vintage refrigerators. It’s adorable!” squealed Casey, opening the fridge to show Lionel how modern it was inside.
“If you need any help with this,” Lionel glanced around at my boxes, “just say the word.”
“What Lionel means is, as well as his doily fetish, he harbors a small obsession for organization and systematic structure and arrangement.”
The spoon froze on its way to my mouth.
“I like to organize things. There is nothing wrong with an orderly and functional home,” Lionel explained, giving Casey a hard look.
“He’s a neat freak,” Casey murmured out the corner of his mouth as he continued to flutter about the apartment, glancing in boxes. “I love this bed.” He grinned. “You sleep there all alone?”
I raised a brow at his too forward line of questioning.
“Ever the subtle one,” sighed Lionel.
“What I meant to say is will that fine piece of man-candy who’s popped by a couple of times be staying over often?”
I almost choked on my cake. After I finished coughing, I shook my head. “No, that’s Decker. He’s just a friend.”
“A friend who you might have over to play poker?” Casey waggled his eyebrows. “Get it, poke-her?” he persisted, making a circle with his thumb and pointer finger, sticking his other pointer finger through it. It was so crude and adolescent, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“No, not that kind of poker, Decker is a friend without benefits.”
Lionel and Casey both grinned wickedly.
“Is he gay?” they both asked in unison then immediately scowled at each other.
“You guys are together, right?” I asked, wondering about their interest in Decker.
“We are, seven years this Christmas.” Casey gave Lionel a wicked smile, and Lionel blushed. The genuine look of love and friendship was clearly evident in their adoring gazes. There was a connection there, a bond. I sighed out loud.