Page 20 of Constantly Cotton
“That it’s no big deal. I mean… everybody judges.”
Did they?
“I….” Jason gave a helpless little laugh. “Maybe they do. I know I’m in no position to judge. When I was in college, this place would have been my holy grail, right? No mountain too high, no valley too far to land in the magic place of porn models wandering around in their boxers.”
Cotton smiled slightly as he made busy with the TV tray and the tea. “That would make a shitty song.”
“But a true one,” Jason told him, making his voice as wise as he could. “It would be the height of hypocrisy if the porn palace of my dreams as a kid is a place of moral turpitude now, you know?”
“Here, let me help you sit up.” His hands were, as always, professional and efficient as he plumped some extra pillows behind Jason’s back and set a tray up over his lap, but that didn’t stop Jason from enjoying their touch.
“Thank you,” Jason murmured, and he took the mug of tea gratefully. “I miss coffee, but this tastes like vitamin C and grandma, and, you know, when you can barely walk to the john, that’s appreciated.”
“Well, it’s rosehip tea with chamomile. It’s supposed to be good healing mojo. I guess Galen sent it over.”
Jason closed his eyes and tried to remember who was who. “Wait—Galen is… Henry’s boss.”
“Yes,” Cotton told him, smiling approvingly. “And John’s boyfriend.”
“Wait—John isyourboss?” Jason asked, and against all the nice stuff he’d spouted, he felt a burst of anger for the porn mogul who made his living from exploiting young guys on camera.
“Yeah. He’s a good guy.” Cotton gave him a benign smile, and Jason tried to keep that unexpected shaft of fury to himself.
“What makes him good?”
“Well,” Cotton said, taking his usual seat on the bed across from Jason’s. “He set up the flophouse, we’re pretty sure, and he gives us health and dental, including mental health, which he doesn’t have to do. I mean, technically, we’re contracted labor, and even more technically, we’re not really legal in California. But he runs the place like a business, and he treats his employees really good. Rehab’s in the contract, and there’s a flat fee for filming a scene and residuals for how many hits it gets on the website. We have the option of leasing the facilities, which are all set up for cameras and internet, if we want to do the webcam business, and he hosts us on his site and promotes us at a very reasonable fee. He sets up promotional events where we can go sign posters and host clubs in the area. Not every guy wants to do that, but some of them really enjoy the attention.” He sighed, and Jason realized he’d been holding something back.
“And what else?” he asked gently.
“And once, about three years ago, when I was living on the streets and he was struggling with addiction, I offered a friend of his a blowjob for twenty dollars, and after Reg said no, he literally drove me to John’s house and said, ‘This kid needs your help.’ And then John drove me here and paid my rent and threw in for food and made sure the other guys took care of me and took me to the doctors and the dentists and made sure I was healthy. And when I asked if I could film scenes and earn my keep, he said no.”
Jason’s heart did a stupid little dance. “So you didn’t film scenes?”
Cotton shook his head. “Eventually yes. I did. Because he was being really nice, but I can pay my own way.” He sighed. “I mean, I thought I could.”
Jason fought against the stupid disappointment. Oh. Jason had answered the question of what kind of hypocritehewas, hadn’t he?
“You thought you could?” he asked, not understanding.
Cotton shrugged, and in the silence that followed, Jason could hear the sadness in him like the tolling of a bell. “I… I couldn’t. I mean, I walked in to film a scene almost three months ago, and I’d… I mean, two months earlier, Henry and Lance sort of convinced me to stop dating. They said I kept hoping for some guy to rescue me, but that wasn’t a reason to sleep with someone. And they were right. And I felt better. Like, I wasn’t dragging around this constant disappointment in life, you know? Because the guys I’d fallen hopelessly in love with had ghosted me after sleeping with me once.”
“Ouch,” Jason murmured, chest aching. Nobody deserved that.
“So there I was, thinking, ‘Hey, I’ve got this maturity thing licked!’ and I walked in to film the scene and… and the guy waiting in the room looked… well, he looked like a bad memory. And I don’t want to talk about it, but it wasn’t the guy’s fault. He just looked like someone I didn’t want to remember, from when I was on the streets. And suddenly… I just couldn’t. I started crying, and I couldn’t stop. And John….” Jason heard the throb in his voice, and realized that the sadness he’d sensed inside was welling its way out. “John said that was okay. He told me to stay here, that he’d make sure I always had a place to sleep, but I needed to find something else to do with my life, because my time working at Johnnies was over.”
Jason let out a sigh. Well, there went his fantasy of beating the shit out of the big exploitive porn mogul. Apparently the heart-of-gold thing ran fast and deep and all the way to the top.
“What have you decided to do?” he asked instead, hoping to pull Cotton out of the memory that was threatening to drown him.
“I have no idea,” Cotton said with a sigh. He looked across the bed and gave Jason a weak smile. “I mean, taking care of you has been fun, but I have the feeling that as soon as you’re on your feet again, you’re going to dust the place and I’ll be waving at you through your rearview mirror.”
Jason stared at him unhappily. “Only because knowing me is dangerous,” he said, his voice raspy. “Sometimes when I’m falling asleep here, I have to remind myself that I can’t stay. I’ve got too many things to take care of. Too much shit to sort. That doesn’t mean it’s not fun to pretend this is my college fantasy come to life.” He gave a half laugh. “Of course, it figures that I’m too sick to do anything about all the half-naked men running around. Just my luck.”
Cotton gave him a better smile this time. “You say that, but I have the feeling you’re probably too much of a gentleman to simply yell ‘Air raid!’ and jump on someone’s ass with your dick out.”
Jason spit tea and then snorted it up his nose. Cotton had to come help him with the tray and a napkin, and by the time he was done giggling, he fell back against the pillows weakly, completely worn out. Cotton made busy with the TV tray and the cup, and Jason put out a weak hand to stop him.
“What?”