Page 45 of Bobby Green
“Because you care for the guy,” Trey said softly. “Look—man, our job, it can fuck you up about stuff like this, but I’ve seen you with him. The day he was sick, you were almost frantic. You’ve been… been trying to be a part of his life.”
“He doesn’t want that.” Bobby ached in every joint in his body. Was this what his mother felt like? Disappointed every day of her life? Was this what made you old? “This?” He gestured to the work behind him. “This was just… to him this is just what friends do. So… I’ll be….” A hookup? God. He couldn’t go in and hook up with Reg. He didn’t want to hook up withanyoneright now. Wouldn’t that be using, the same way Keith used him? “I’ll fix his bathroom,” Bobby said miserably. “And then I’ll go home and see my girlfriend and work Johnnies down here until I can move her down.”
Trey grunted and pulled a hand through the longish part of his hair on top of his head. “Bobby…. Man, is that going to make you happy? Is never seeing him again going to make you happy?”
“I coulda hit you,” Bobby said, still appalled. “I… I’m not ever gonna be that fuckin’ guy.”
Trey closed his eyes. “I don’t think that’s why it was going that way,” he said with what sounded to be exaggerated patience. He opened his eyes. “If you feel strong enough about someone to—”
Bobby closed his eyes and shuddered. “See this?” he snarled, showing the bumps on his clavicle. “Broken three times, and not ’cause I loved skateboarding. I’ve seen what an asshole with a fist can do. I’mnevergonna be that fuckin’ guy.”
“Jesus,” Trey muttered. “I think you’re wrong,” he said, voice growing stronger. “I think you’re wrong, and I think you’re doing this wrong, and I think you’re throwing something away that could really be special. We all love Reg, but none of us ever just lay next to him and talk to him. And yes, Bobby, that came up in bed last night. It was like hearing your boyfriend talk about his ex during orgasm, thank you very much, and now I know why.”
Bobby felt all the blood leave his face. His breath came up short, and spots flickered behind his eyes. “That… that makes it worse,” he whispered, not sure why.
“Because what me and Reg were doing—that was sex. It was athletic, like stretching a muscle or bungee jumping. Whatyouand Reg were doing?” Trey’s voice broke, when Bobby had been keeping his steady. “That was real,” he said. “Jesus, Bobby—don’t give up something real because Reg got confused. This shit confuses peoplenotin porn. It confuses the hell out ofme, or I’d be with a guy right now.”
Bobby’s laugh had blood and glass in it. “Neither of us are gay?” And yes. It came out like a question. Because… because his chest felt ripped open. Because the thought of Reg’s compact, sleek body naked in bed with this sweet guy stopped his fucking breath.
“Oh Jesus,” Trey snarled, suddenly as angry as Bobby had been. “You fucking deserve to be miserable. How long is it going to take you to put their house back together?”
“Three or four hours,” Bobby said, lost and a little scared. “If I haul ass.”
“I’ll give you five. Fucking haul ass. I’m going to take that poor kid and his freaky-assed sister out to breakfast and then clothes shopping, because everything she owns looks handed down by clowns. Be gone by the time they get back. If you can’t get past ‘I’m not gay,’ you’re not ready to take care ofyourself, much less Reg.”
Bobby gaped at him. They were roommates—they kidded, they shared the remote control, they raced each other for the couch. This level of depth—it boggled him.
“I—”
Trey shook his head abruptly. “You’ll just fucking hurt him,” he said. “Take your truck around the corner—go get your own goddamned donuts. Be back in twenty minutes, and then don’t come back here at all.” He turned back toward the house and paused, shoulders slumped. “You probably think I hate you,” he said, voice softer, pained. “I don’t. I like you, Bobby. You’re a good roommate, a good guy. But too many of us have been dicked around by guys who won’t cop to liking guys. I just… not with Reg. I just can’t.”
“Yeah,” Bobby said gruffly, remembering that last time with Keith, his body draping over Bobby’s, the bills wadded in Bobby’s back pocket. “Yeah.” He had to turn away then because the memory did it for him, and his eyes were swimming with tears. He made it around the corner and to McDonald’s for coffee, and was back at Reg’s half an hour later.
He finished his work in record time, because the house was empty. There was nobody there to talk to, nobody to “help” him clean up, nobody to help him with his tools, nobody to offer him a break and a beer and a moment to stop and take a breath.
Nobody to hold hands with.
Nobody to whisper secrets in the dark.
Nobody to look at him like he was special, and Bobby and only Bobby could make him happy.
Three and a half hours, and the bathroom looked brand-new. White tile on the floor, new plumbing under it. Bobby left a quart of paint at the closet, with a brush and instructions for how to paint the inside, if Reg wanted to keep his towels splinter-free.
He swept up, loaded the trash in his truck, and drove away.
By the time he got to the Kohl’s parking lot about a block away from his apartment, he was sobbing so hard he couldn’t breathe. Lance found him there an hour later, still shaking. He made Bobby unlock the cab so he could get in and sit in the passenger seat.
“Trey called me,” he said quietly.
“I… I’m not sure how I fucked up,” Bobby said, feeling hollowed out. “I’m not sure why this hurts so bad.”
“Yeah.” Lance grabbed the keys dangling from the ignition. “C’mon. Let’s go inside.”
Bobby was never sure what happened next. How things went from ice cream to vodka to Lance, moving gently inside him…
Kissing his tears as Bobby whispered Reg’s name.
HIS MOMwas working overtime that weekend. He told her he’d come up the next weekend for sure, which got them damned close to Thanksgiving territory. He picked up four extra shifts at Hazy Daze and one extra scene at Johnnies without the stills shoot. On the plus side, his “own apartment” fund was growing fatter, and Dex had told him that his video downloads were through the roof, so once he started getting a percentage from those, he’d be able to move out.
