SAMSON: Curious Boys #3 (Boys of Porn)

EIGHT

Rich called – "Cut" – when Marcus abruptly left the bed and hurried to the small dressing room. Mickey went after him.

Confused, Gideon looked at Rich. "What happened?"

Rich shook his head.

Sitting forward, Samson wrapped the robe around himself and scooted to the end of the bed. "Is he all right?" Deep concern etched his face. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Gideon assured. "I'll check on him."

He walked to the dressing room and opened the door a couple inches, halting when he heard the boys talking quietly—Marcus in tears.

"You . . . you feel it, too . . ." Marcus choked softly. "Don't you?"

"Yes." Mickey hugged him.

"What . . . what're we going to do?" Marcus shuddered in his arms, his damp face pressed into Mickey's shoulder.

"I don't know," Mickey whispered thickly. "But . . . but we'll think of something."

"What if we can't?" Marcus cried quietly. "What if he isn't . . ."

Mickey kissed his hair. "He is. I'm sure of it."

Gideon knocked lightly on the door and opened it further. The boys withdrew from one another and Marcus ducked his head, wiping his eyes. "What's wrong?" Gideon frowned. "Marcus?"

"Nothing," Marcus mumbled and cleared his throat. "I'm okay."

"You don't look okay?" Gideon turned to Mickey. "What's going on, Mickey? Why is Marcus upset?"

Mickey glanced at Marcus and the other boy shook his head. "Don't," he whispered brokenly. "He'll . . . he'll think it's stupid."

"Marcus . . ." Mickey said softly.

"Please, don't."

Gideon entered the room and closed the door. "Marcus, if it's so important that it's upsetting you this much, I won't think it's stupid. You know me better than that, son. You've always been able to confide in me."

"He's right," Mickey whispered. "He'll understand."

Raising his damp eyes, Marcus looked at Gideon then nodded. "Okay." He ducked his head again and avoided Gideon's eyes as Mickey explained the situation.

"Ah, Marcus." Gideon went to the boy and hugged him. "Why would I think that was stupid? I would never."

Marcus held him tight. "What are we going to do?"

Sighing, Gideon stepped back and cupped his face. "Well, first things first. You finish this scene with Samson, then . . . go from there."

Marcus sniffed and wiped the tears from his face. "Okay." He went into the adjoining bathroom and washed his face.

Gazing thoughtfully at Mickey, Gideon asked quietly, "Is this mutual? Do you feel the same as Marcus?"

"Yes." Mickey licked his lips and flexed his hands. "What . . . what do you think will happen?"

"I don't know," Gideon admitted. He smiled and touched Mickey's face. "But all things are possible to those who believe."

"Do you believe . . . in this?" Mickey stared at him, tentative hope in his eyes.

Gideon released a slow breath and thought about it a moment. "Yeah." He winked at the boy. "I think I do."

•●•

Samson stared at the carpet and tried to figure out what had sent Marcus fleeing. Had he done something wrong? The three of them had seemed to be equally enjoying the scene—what had gone wrong?