Page 76 of Constantly Cotton
She gaped at him. “Jason!”
With a growl of frustration, he ripped his shirt off and showed her the scars with their rough stitch pattern on his shoulder and side. “He and his friends field-operated on me with not much more than a medical kit and their courage when I was about to die of infection,” he said, his voice aching with the need for her to understand. He pulled his shirt on, feeling twelve again, and added, “For a month he monitored my vitals, administered my medication, and even learned how to install an IV. And his life could have been shit—do you understand? He was kicked out at seventeen and given a chance to press charges against his twenty-year-old boyfriend or live on the streets. And he chose living out on the streets because his boyfriend had done nothing wrong. He’s got integrity like you can’t believe. And he could have been a mess, or a train wreck, but he’s so goddamned sweet. He’s got friends and protectors, and he’s so grateful for them, but he needs more. He….”
“Does he love you back?” she asked, voice soft.
He slumped defeatedly in the damned chrome chair. “He says so.” Jason shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if he does or not. I want him to have better. Please?”
She sighed. “When he fills out the application, under ‘Employment’ what’s it going to say?”
Oh God. “John Carey Industries,” he told her, hoping she wouldn’t—
“Seriously?” she asked, her voice squeaking.
“You know what that is?” he retorted, and his own voice had a few cracks in it too.
“I lost the use of my legs, not my sex drive!” she said defensively. Then she took a breath, and another, and another. “Fuck. Well, it’s not like we don’t have some students here funding their education on webcams. And I understand the better film companies test copiously.”
Jason nodded. “They do. And John Carey sort of took the kid in. He could have exploited him, but he gave him a place to stay and food. Cotton is the one who insisted on modeling to pay his way.”
She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. “This issoseedy,” she muttered before pushing herself up and giving a small smile. “But it’s also the first time you’ve ever really been in love.”
“I’m so old,” he admitted, scrubbing his face with his hands.
“You want me to send him this offer out of the blue?”
“If your name is on it, he’ll know,” Jason said. “I told him to look for signs.” He bit his lip, hating the uncertainty, hating to wait. “You’ll, uhm, tell me if he says yes?”
“Why?” Jessica asked. “What will you do?”
“I’ve got some ideas,” he said with dignity. He didn’t want to put a voice to it, to the hope, to the culmination of all the “what-ifs” he’d put in motion by asking his sister for such a monumental favor.
“Jason,” she said, her voice softening.
“Yeah?”
“You deserve everything. You’re a good man, and you work a hard job. Even if you can’t give me details, I know that. You deserve a house, a family, a picket fence, a dog. At the very least, you deserve someone who loves you enough to save your life.”
“A dog?” he asked wistfully. “I don’t know if I’d be home enough for a dog.”
“Maybe a cat,” she conceded.
He smiled, thinking of Burton’s boyfriend. “Turns out I know someone with lots and lots of cats.”
“Well, it’s a place to start.”
He left shortly after that, buoyed by his sister’s promise that she’d tell him as soon as she heard back from her offer. His step felt a little lighter as he ventured out into the sodden sunlight, and while he tried to keep the hum of making plans out of his mind, he did allow himself the tentative feeling of hope.
Choosing Blue Skies
COTTON STAREDat the thick information packet in his hand, looking for the angle.
“What’s doin’?” Henry asked, barging into the flophouse like he lived there, with Randy, Vinnie, and Curtis on his heels. Billy had moved out while he’d been gone, apparently finding his own bliss with a friend of Jackson’s, but Chale had taken his place, because that’s how things went there. Chale’s chirpy optimism felt a lot different than Billy’s brooding sarcasm, but then, he’d chosen “Chale” as his porn name, and that seemed to indicate a guy with rainbows shooting out his ass. So far, he’d been a decent roommate—not oversexed, and he didn’t wear his damage on his sleeve.
And Cotton understood his porn was fantastic.
Cotton looked up from studying the brochures and the seemingly improbable letter that came with them and frowned. “Does this look legit to you?” he asked, shoving the whole mess at Henry.
Henry read the letter, his eyebrows and eyeballs doing an intricate little dance between disbelief and excitement.
