Page 25 of Bobby Green

Maybe it was that thought that made him just a little more tender than he should have been when he was shooting the scene with Dex.

He couldn’t help it. Their bodies were touching, and yeah, a lot of it was lust, because Dex was an expert at touching this spot or that spot or tugging on Bobby’s ear or his balls or his hair just when it would really turn his key.

But some of it was seeing the guy’s worry the week before, or the way Dex seemed to watch out for all the people at Johnnies. Need something? Have a problem? Ask Dex. If Dex couldn’t fix it, he knew a guy who could.

And the “bottoming” thing.

Bobby knew guys who lived in fear of anything up their ass. Keith would have snarled “fag” at him in a hot second if he’d known what Bobby had let Dex do to him.

But… but it had felt good—just as good as being with a girl, if not better. And like being with Trish, he hadn’t felt… dirty. Or bad. Or soiled.

He’d felt beautiful. He felt like what he was doing held beauty in it.

He felt even more so after he shivered all over, stroked his own cock, and came.

So in the end, he knew he was looking at Dex with a little bit of his heart in his eyes for their final kiss, the one they had when the camera went dark. Dex kissed him gently and then pulled away. He smiled—sort of a brotherly smile, in spite of the naked bodies and the sex and the room that smelled like jizz.

“Good job, kid,” he said and kissed Bobby on the forehead.

Oh. For a moment Bobby was embarrassed. Oh God. He’d almost fallen in love with aguyon a porn set! What a sap! What an asshole! Jesus—how stupid could he be?

But as they were dressing and Dex started talking to Reg, who was holding the lights today, about the next shoot they were filming and how he had to run to the pet store after work, he realized something.

Dex had been kind.

He hadn’t been condescending or mean. Hadn’t laughed in Bobby’s face.

Had just told him that sex wasn’t always about love, and done it with a kiss.

Well, if anyone knew that, Bobby should, right? Dex was still a good guy, and Bobby had nothing to be embarrassed about. He’d liked the guy with the dick up his ass. There was no shame in that.

“Reg, seriously—are you okay?” Dex’s voice, sharp with concern, pulled Bobby to the fore while they were wrapping towels around their waists.

“Got infected,” Reg said, and Bobby took a better look at him. His face—usually sort of tan—was red and flushed, and now that the shoot was over, he was shaking, arms crossed in front of him protectively. “A little sick.”

“Dammit, Reg—can you call Lance?”

Reg’s face went blank. “You’re the one with his number, Dex. I didn’t want to trouble you. You been so worried.”

Dex closed his eyes and nodded, and Bobby realized he could help make this better. “I know Lance. I have his contact number. Here—give me yours and I’ll hook you up.”

“Thank you,” Reg said humbly, and as Bobby drew near, he could see the dark circles under Reg’s eyes. Besides being sick, he hadn’t been sleeping well either. “I’ll call after lunch. Dex, I’ll be back in an hour to set up for the next shoot, okay?” He shivered violently, and Dex and Bobby exchanged glances.

“I know you gotta go,” Dex said, “but how ’bout you let Bobby take you home? We can skip the shower scene and find someone—”

Reg’s face twisted in anguish. “Please?” he asked plaintively. “I… I know I’m sick, but I can do the job, Dex. I… it’s my only chance to get out of the house besides the gym. And I’ve got a shoot next week—I’ll be right by then.”

Dex took a deep breath, and Bobby stepped up. “Look, Reg? How about I take you to your place to do whatever you gotta do. Then I can take you to the apartment. You can sleep on the couch, and we’ll wait for Lance to get out of class. How’s that?”

Reg bit his lip. “I gotta pick my car up here and be home by nine,” he said. His voice cracked a little, like he was having trouble not just coming unglued.

“Sure,” Bobby said. He really did have nothing else to do that day besides stuff his face and stare dreamily into space remembering what total submission felt like. “I’ll take you home, we’ll go back to the apartment—”

“We can stop to eat,” Reg said, smiling a little through cracked lips. “You must be starving.”

“Yeah,” Bobby said gently. “Look—just let me shower, okay?” He was wearing a towel again. It was almost funny how much he didn’t seem to mind being naked after only two shoots.

Reg nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”