Page 11 of Shades of Henry
“You turn in your papers?” Billy grimaced. “I tried to enlist, but I failed the physical.”
Lance arched an eyebrow, and Billy gave him a barely perceptible nod. Oh, sweetheart. No. The weight of their shared secret seemed to press on Lance’s chest—or his stomach, which was where most of the pizza they ate wouldnotbe by the end of the night.
“That’s too bad,” Henry said, and his sincerity made Lance dizzy with relief. And then, blessed, blessed Henry… he didn’t pry. “It’s hard when you want to serve but they won’t let you.”
“Is that what happened to you?” Lance asked and then had to not clap his hand over his mouth.
Henry gave him an inscrutable look. “What happened to me was… complicated. And in the long run, it wasn’t something I did so much as something I had coming.” He twitched his lips at Lance.
“And it’s something you don’t want to talk about. I’m sorry.”
“No worries.” Henry munched doggedly on his pizza. “What are you aiming for now?” he asked Billy.
Billy bit his lip in what looked like hope. “A degree in engineering. I’ve got another year—”
“He’s been head-hunted,” Cotton blurted, wide-eyed.
“Dude, that doesn’t mean nearly what you think it does,” Zeppelin said with a smirk, and Cotton flat-out ignored him.
“No—two firms, right, Billy?”
Billy nodded. “Yeah. I may get to do a paid internship next semester.”
“And then you’ll move out of this dump and we can visit you in a real house?” Curtis asked hopefully. Curtis—African American, skin of pale bronze, as clean-cut as an ROTC cadet—was going to school to study kinesiology so he could get into sports medicine, and he seemed to need examples of guys who got out of porn and moved on to other things. He volunteered his spare time at a children’s shelter, and while Lance wanted to point out that if he waited tables with that time instead he might be able to afford a different living situation, he got the feeling Curtis was there for the same reason Lance was. And it had less to do with money than with not being able to buy family.
“Absolutely,” Billy said, his voice ringing in sincerity. Sometimes guys meant that. They kept up with their buddies at Johnnies, made friendships. Sometimes guys were in and out. Lance recognized that this was probably like a lot of jobs, a lot of living situations, but still, it gave him hope to think of Billy becoming like Reg and Bobby. Reg’s house was a dump—that was a given—but damned if every two weeks or so, somebody didn’t go visit them and end up having a beer and some dinner and TV in a different living room. Of course, they might also get co-opted into helping Bobby restore Reg’s beloved dump, but it seemed a small price to pay.
“Engineering,” Henry said with respect. “Those are tough courses. I looked into that.” He knocked his skull with his knuckles. “Too thick.”
Billy laughed, but he looked pleased. Well, yeah. They wereallpretty here. Being praised for your brains, your drive—that was unusual, and Lance felt a teeny bit of relaxation seep into his stomach. Henry had promised, and apparently he was going to live up to his word. Lance was relieved.
“Anybody else got a surprising major?” Henry asked, and he seemed to have relaxed as well. “Rocket science? Economics of underdeveloped countries?”
“Personal trainer, dude!” Zeppelin hammed. “The better to surf when the surfing’s good!”
“You live in a valley, Zeppelin,” Fisher said patiently. “This isn’t the place to be a surfer bum.”
“Cheaper here,” Zeppelin said, nodding, as if he could get the rest of them to believe him. “And this way I can go surfing on the weekends.”
“He spends his weekends as a yoga instructor,” Fisher told Henry. “I know this because we both work in the same gym. Asshole hasn’t taken me surfing once.”
Zeppelin grinned at the guy he’d been fucking not more than an hour ago, and Lance looked at them both curiously. Fisher was a recent addition to the Johnnies stable, and while he seemed undecided about porn, he’d been Zeppelin’s guest more than once, and that was unheard of. “You haven’t asked me to take you.”
“That’s not how it works,” Fisher explained, a note in his voice telling Lance that he was pretty sure Zep didn’t know this already. “You say, ‘Hey, Fisher! I’m all fucked-out this weekend. How about we go surfing instead!’ and I say, ‘Yeah, Zep, it would be great to know you liked more about me than my cock!’ See how that works?”
Zeppelin looked abashed. “I don’t got a car, dude. Neither do you.”
“Oh God,” Billy muttered. “Ihave a car. And a week off school. Let’s go.”
“Or a wetsuit,” Zeppelin said, looking embarrassed. “Or a surfboard. You guys, I’m all talk about surfing, and you know it.”
“We can still go,” Billy said. “I’m sure there’s places to rent.”
“Yeah?” Zep perked up. “Let’s plan!”
“Good for you, guys,” Randy huffed. “Can we see the end of the movie first?”
“You can come too,” Fisher offered.
