Page 8 of Sean's Sunshine
But it wouldn’t do to let him feel all cocky and shit because then he wouldn’t rest.
“Mmm….” He made the sound skeptical. “Do you? Do you really?”
For a moment Kryzynski tried to puff himself up, which made sense—he was maybe five eight, five nine on a good day. Billy knew what that was like, being five seven himself. Always trying to make yourself bigger because the whole world tried to make you feel small. Billy figured that on most days, Kryzynski did okay, made himself really big, the biggest cock of the walk. But it was hard to puff up your chest when you had no puff, and today, he let out a pitiful breath and sagged back against the arm of the couch.
“Can I at least move to the recliner so when I have to pee it’s not a major production?” he begged pitifully.
“Yeah, sure,” Billy said, feeling generous. “Let me help you—are you stupid? Did you hear what I said?”
The glare was back, but dammit, the guy had twisted to put one hand on the back of the couch to boost himself up, and Billy could see the grimace of pain from the back of the guy’s head.
“I’m not stupid!” Kryzynski snapped. “I’m injured. You don’t need to—” He fought for breath. “—treat me,” he wheezed, “like a….”
“You don’t want to be treated like a shitty little third grader? Then don’tactlike a shitty little third grader. Now you will sit there and wait for me to come help you because I’ve got manners and shit. Are we clear?”
“Fuck you,” Kryzynski muttered, but all the fight had gone out of him, and Billy figured he’d heard.
“The list is long and well paid,” Billy snapped back, and then he let out some of his own mad as he bent his knees and held his arm stiff, crooked at the elbow at his side. “Now grab my arm and let me do some of the work, okay? I’m not trying to piss you off, you stubborn asshole, I’mtryingto help you. Fucking let me.”
He felt the determination in Kryzynski’s fingers as they dug into his arm and he let himself be escorted to the recliner instead of the couch. It was a solid piece of furniture—he was right. The next time he needed to get up, this would make it easier.
“We didn’t get you on the recliner in the first place, why?” he asked.
Kryzynski grunted. “Because I usually save it for company. Andres loves it.”
Billy settled him in and grabbed the throw from the couch to keep him snug against the admittedly stellar air conditioning.
“Well, this time you get the good seat,” he said. “But I’m going to shore you up with pillows on your injured side because we want you to breathe there.”
Kryzynski made a noise of assent. “You’re weirdly good at this,” he said grudgingly. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting a drill sergeant, but I can admit, you’re taking this really—” Breath. “—seriously.”
“Like I said,” Billy told him, “in my world, when Rivers asks you for a favor, you do it twice. In this case, the favor was taking care of you.”
This time, the noise was of frustration.
“What? What do you want to ask?” he prompted.
“A thousand things,” Kryzynski rasped. “No wind.”
Billy nodded. “Well then, don’t say anything. Here’s the remote control. Point and click. You seem to have every streaming service known to man. I don’t know why you’re so upset about your DVDs.”
“They’re my favorites,” he said briefly. “What do you—” Breath. “—want to—”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m going to get my laptop to start my homework. My classes begin this week. Don’t worry, we’ve got a schedule at the flophouse so you don’t get left alone when I’ve got school or work. I was cutting down on my wait shifts anyway for school, so I only do that twice a week too.”
Kryzynski frowned, and Billy knew what he was going to ask before he asked it. “What about…?”
“Shooting scenes at Johnnies?” he asked. “Yeah, I’ve got one in a couple of days. After that, I’ve got another one in about six weeks. I’ve got someone lined up to sub for me in a couple of days, and in six weeks I’ll probably be long gone.”
Kryzynski frowned again, but Billy didn’t want to talk about porn anymore. He was going to take advantage of the fact that the guy was still out of wind and go fetch his laptop. He had some humanities classes that semester, and he was going to have to do a lot of reading before school even started if he didn’t want to be behind.
Uncomfortable Options
THE KIDsitting on the couch and captaining the remote control had bright red hair, freckles on his bare arms, neck, and cheeks, and the big sloppy smile of a Labrador mixed with a happy Great Dane. He wore the same uniform Billy seemed to, with a T-shirt stretched over his chest, cargo shorts hanging off his absurdly narrow hips, and, in this kid’s case, a pair of bright lime-green Crocs, but Kryzynski could recognize the difference between the two kids even in the dark, and that was without seeing Randy’s Crocs glow.
“You got everything you need?” Randy asked, big green eyes wide and friendly. “Billy said you probably didn’t need to move a lot, but you might need help to the john. I’m good for that. I help the sick guy in our apartment all the time.”
Sean tried to keep his smile friendly and not shocked. He was twenty-nine goddamned years old, but damned if between Billy and this kid he didn’t feel a thousand.