“Mm,” Reg mumbled. “This is nice. You’re good at the snuggling, Bobby. Anyone tell you that?”
“Not my girlfriend,” Bobby murmured on a laugh.
Reg laughed too. “You should do this with Ethan,” he said drowsily. “Ethan loves this. I think the whole reason he’s in Johnnies is to touch like this.”
Oh. A part of Bobby wilted. This was just how you touched when you were at Johnnies. Of course.
“Is Ethan a good guy?”
“The best,” Reg said happily. Then, like he was offering a gift: “But I don’t know if he ever would have sat with me and played cards like that. I sure did like that, Bobby. I hope we can do that again.”
Bobby tightened his hold, fever and all. “Me too,” he said softly.
Something he could offer Reg that no one else would. He liked that. He could play cards for years.
Left Behind
REG’S BACKhealed up nicely, and Lance was able to take the stitches out before his scene with Ethan. His fever was gone by the fourth day, so he got a whole day of being able to eat before he had to fast for the shoot, and all in all, he was glad to not be sick again.
Going back home was hard, though.
V was real sweet. Apparently Lance and Bobby had put the fear of Big Men in her, and she was right on even keel with her meds, but Reg remembered the peace of sleeping through the night at the apartment, and how there were always fruits and vegetables in the refrigerator, and he missed it.
He missed Bobby even more.
They’d played cribbage, rummy, and Monopoly for three days, and Reg got used to the shy little half smile the kid got when he was about to win. He started rooting for Bobby to win just so he could see it. He liked the way Bobby didn’t expect him to know everything but didn’t feel sorry for him when he needed an explanation. He said he was used to not knowing things because he grew up in a small town, but he’d had a computer and a mom and a high school education and everything, so Reg thought maybe he was just protecting Reg’s feelings.
It worked.
Reg felt safe with him. And protected.
Every night while Reg had stayed there, Bobby had slid into bed behind him and held him tight and close. No sex, which was fine because at first Reg had felt like shit, and then, when he’d felt better, he needed to save it for work, but strong. And warm. And safe.
Reg had never felt safe asleep.
The morning of the shoot, Bobby showed up at Reg’s house with that old truck of his full to the brim with lumber and pipes and linoleum and stuff, and Reg stared at it.
“What’s all that?” He peered over Bobby’s shoulder as he stood at the door. It looked like construction stuff, but Reg didn’t know construction.
“I’m gonna rip out your bathroom floor and fix the pipes so they don’t leak,” Bobby said matter-of-factly. “The bathroom on your floor—don’t worry, I won’t intrude on V’s space.”
Reg’s jaw dropped a little.
“Why in the world would you want to do that?”
Bobby shrugged, that little half smile playing on his lips, the one that said he had something nobody else did. “I worked out already. No shift at the café, nothing to do—don’t want to get bored.”
“Well, uh, yeah.” Reg was still floundering onwhy. “But… dude, I’ve got a scene!”
“Well, good. You can shower at Johnnies. I’ll have this done in a couple of days.”
Reg sighed. “Ethan and I were gonna go out afterward,” he said, feeling bad. Hooking up was just hooking up, right? And Ethan was one of the few guys who could do it after doing it. All day. “I hate to leave you here while I’m off—”
“Working? Visiting friends?” Bobby shrugged. “You didn’t really want to leave V alone anyway, right?”
Reg glanced over his shoulder, but she was in the living room, watching the news. “No,” he said under his breath. “But you gotta be careful, okay? No tools where she can get them, okay?”
“Yeah.” Bobby nodded. “And if you’re bringing Ethan over, you gotta text me. I can be ready to clear out before you get here, okay?”