Page 119 of Bobby Green
So Reg just said he’d help pay if they could manage to do it, and Bobby found other things to fix. By the time April had rolled around, they’d repainted V’s walls—the same color pink, but without the graffiti—and Bobby was replacing baseboards and window treatments, and that seemed like it was going to take him a long time. The thingRegnoticed, though, was that every time he replaced a window treatment—like with blinds or curtains or something—the whole rest of the wall looked like crap.
Reg figured painting the house was going to be their thing in June, because Bobby should be done with sealing the house to help the air-conditioning and heating by then.
He liked helping Bobby.
He remembered all the times he’d ended up screwing around with someone because he couldn’t think of anything better to do. Bobby would take him to movies or to the bookstore, or to live music in downtown, and Reg loved that.
But the other times, the times they weren’t fooling around—and there were lots of the fooling around times; Reg narrowly avoided blowing his abstinence more than once—they spent fixing the house. Reading. Watching television.
Sure, they hung out with friends separately. Reg went to Ethan and Kelsey’s house a lot. She was getting close to having the baby; she needed him to bring lots of stuff. Bobby hung with his mom. But most of their time was together, and it was awesome, and Reg didn’t want to fool around with anybody else because that meant he couldn’t spend time with Bobby.
Apparently being in a relationship was that easy.
But it sure did make porn hard.
“Uh, Reg,” Dex said blankly. “Do you have that thing out for a reason?”
“Yeah, Dex,” Reg said. “I’m fluffing, right? When you’re done with the lights?”
“Been done for about ten minutes, buddy. We’re waiting on you.”
Reg looked down at the thing in his hand. He’d been petting it for the last ten minutes, but it didn’t see Bobby anywhere, so it didn’t think it was going to get any use.
“Uh…,” he said, looking at his cock and feeing stupid. Sex. On camera. He’d been doing it for eleven years. He looked over at “Chris”—and again, he didn’t feel so bad about his shitty porn name situation—and back at his dick.
Chris was a sweet kid, blond, blue-eyed, sort of like a young Dex, complete with baby fat around the chin. But the older Dex was stacked and ripped, and he had this sort of dangerous self-knowledge around the eyes. Reg could probably bang Dex now, if Dex still did scenes, and like Lance, they’d shake hands and walk away, like guys on a bowling team.
But this new guy, Chris….
Reg looked back at his dick.
“I suck cock like a dream,” Chris said sweetly. “Man, I seriously converted the quarterback at my junior college. He totally plays for our team now.”
Reg grinned at him and stripped off his pants before folding them to stash on the shelves. He followed up with his shirt and grinned at the angel with the apparently filthy mouth. “Wanna start there?” he asked Dex. “Him deep-throating me? I bet I could get it upthen.”
“Sure,” Dex said easily, kicking back. “Go to it!”
It worked. Chris’s mouth was everything advertised and more, and they laughed a lot while they were fucking. But when they’d finished up and had filmed the shower scene—which had ended up with Reg fingerbanging the kid against the wall, because he had a sweet ass too—Dex waited until he was coming out of the locker room to pull him aside.
“So, Reg.”
“Yeah?”
Dex rolled his eyes. “Anything on your mind?”
Reg tried a grin. “You know me better than that,” he said.
“No.” Dex shook his head. “You don’t get to pull that shit on me. What’s up?”
Reg shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “I don’t know. Guess, you know. Got that thing out and it was expecting someone else.”
That got a laugh, and Reg was glad. He was getting better at eliciting a laugh from people—it was worth trying. “Anything else?” Dex asked quietly.
Shift. Shift. Shift. “My, uh, sister’s coming home next week,” Reg said, gnawing on a cuticle. “You know. Don’t know how much longer me and someone else got.”
Dex looked away and sighed. “Reg…,” he said, in that pained tone of voice Reg knew by now.
“No.” And he couldn’t smile about this. “Thanks for filming the scene, Dex. You did a real good job.”
