Page 77 of Bobby Green

Bobby stared at his phone, bemused, and grateful—not for the first time—for the Johnnies network. He texted Reg next, putting on his boots and grabbing his tool belt as he waited for an answer.

I’m going to the apartment—Rick shaved his chest, and they need a plumber.

Heh, heh—I’m not the only one who doesn’t like waxing.

Doesn’t bother me. Just glad no one’s asked me to wax my asshole yet, ’cause ouch.

You don’t have much hair back there anyway. Some guys it’s like licking a cat.

Bobby read that text twice and ran into the wall dividing the bedroom from the rest of the apartment.

OMG

Heh heh heh—make you laugh?

Gay porn models licking pussies? Absolutely.It was a horrible, crude joke, but Reg started it.

OMG—I DIDN’T MEAN IT THAT WAY!

Bobby chuckled.I know you didn’t. But I’m gonna crack up during the shoot anyway. Thank you for that.

Welcome.

Bobby got into the truck and checked his phone one more time before he started it up. The next text surprised him.

I think I gotta ask Dex if I can not light your scene. I think that would be a bad idea.

Why?Bobby hadn’t thought about it. So many months had gone into identifying “work sex” as different from “heart sex” that he’d completely forgotten Reg would even be there.

’Cause either A. It would make me horny and I gotta wait two more days. Or B. I’d feel bad ’cause you were with that other guy. I know it’s stupid. I just know it made me feel bad when I thought about it.

Bobby’s heart hit his chest harder than usual.

I never thought about it. It’s like I’m a different person on the set. The person I really am only wants to be with you. That guy on the set, he could fuck the world until the oceans ran jizz.

The truck was idling, and he was about to sign off when his phone beeped again.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Bobby blinked. He hadn’t actually meant it to be funny, but if that lightened the moment, he was all for it.

He really didn’t want to think about him and Reg and Johnnies. That way lay monsters.

AND THEplumbing situation in the apartment was not much better. Bobby eyed the mess in the big plastic tub he’d brought in with distaste—and dispassion. He’d brought thick rubber/Teflon gloves, and they’d turned out to be one of the best investments of his life.

“You guys, this is bad,” he said, looking at the corrosion in the U-joint. He’d switched the water off completely, and with a grunt he turned to the back of the toilet to see if the damage extended there. “Who’s been tossing chunks in the sink?”

All four of the guys were gathered around the doorway, and Trey looked away, biting his lip.

And so did Lance.

They caught each other’s eyes then, and their glances skittered away like squirrels accidentally climbing the same goddamned tree.

Skylar, Billy, and Rick stared at them in horror. “You guys.” “Dudes!” “Ohmygod!”

“But… butwhy?” His eyes watered with more than the stench in the bathroom. “And it’s seven o’clock at night—I need to go to a fucking hardware store, or you guys are gonna be pissing in the shower and shitting in the trash.”

“That’s amazing, Bobby,” Billy said, dry as toast. “I didn’t think I could get any queasier, but that did it.”