Acts of Service

Chapter 1-2

Twenty-four hours later, the apartment was presentable, the spare room cleaned, and his building’s dumpsters a bit fuller for the effort. Let it never be said that Tom Rawling turned his back on a friend in need. Or a friend’s stepbrother, as the case may be.

At exactly six o’clock, someone knocked on his door. And he’d just gotten to sit down, too. Well, nothing for it except to get up and welcome Alex.

He swung the door open and said, “Hi.”

Josiah, Will’s dad, gave him a wide smile and reached out for a hearty handshake, the only kind he knew how to give. “Tom, always good to see you.”

“Thank you,” said a quiet voice. “I shouldn’t be here long. I just need to get my security deposit back and find a new place.”

Tom looked beyond Josiah and Charlene to see his guest. Alex was a timid guy on the skinnier side of average, though to be fair, anyone appeared shy and scrawny next to Josiah. He smoothed a floppy lock of brown hair behind his ears, and since it was already in place, Tom assumed this was a nervous habit.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Come in. The spare room is small, but there’s no mold. It’s the open door right there.”

“Thank God for no mold.” Alex took a boxed air mattress into the spare room and wasted no time setting it up.

Charlene, a hugger if Tom had ever met one, went in for an embrace. “This is so kind of you. We can’t drive him to work and back every day, not if we’re going to be at work on time ourselves.”

As Tom recalled, Alex was two or three years younger than him and Will, so twenty-three or twenty-four. Old enough that it was sad his mom needed to take care of him this much, anyway.

He didn’t say that. He said, “Glad I can help.”

She leaned in so Alex wouldn’t hear, though the motor of the air pump probably did a good job covering her voice. “He doesn’t socialize much. If you could get him to go out, even just to a bar, it would be a minor miracle.”

Josiah shook his head. “We talked about this, Charlene. Alex doesn’t want to be treated like a charity case and it’s not fair to ask Tom to drag him around.”

She sighed. “Sorry. Josiah’s right. I just…” She trailed off, out of words.

“I don’t think he’d like my usual bar anyway,” said Tom.

“Is it a gay bar? That would be fantastic!”

So, Alex was gay or bi, then. In Tom’s experience, straight guys’ mothers didn’t usually think they should be spending a lot of time in gay bars.

“Charlene,” warned Josiah.

The conversation had to change when Alex came out of the spare room. “The bed is inflating,” he reported. “What should I know about your routines?”

“Routines? Uh, let’s see, I get up at six, jog for half an hour unless it’s s**t weather, shower right after that, eat breakfast, and leave at seven-thirty.”

Josiah brought a few boxes and a suitcase in from the hall while Alex asked, “What else? When do you get home?”

“Usually about five-thirty, but I’m on call until nine Tuesdays and Thursdays, plus one Sunday a month.”

Alex typed this into a note on his phone. He seemed really concerned about routine, and Tom began to wonder if hosting him had been a good idea.

“We’re going to head out,” said Josiah. “I still haven’t done my training for the day.”

“For the triathlon? How’s that going?” Last Tom had heard, Josiah was cursing out the hills he had to bike up.

“I’m getting there.”

Charlene hugged her son, then mouthed ‘thank you’ at Tom over Alex’s shoulder. She definitely worried about him a lot.

When it was just the two of them, Alex asked, “What else?”

“What else is there?”

“Things you don’t want in your home. Standing appointments like friends coming over for dinner. What time you make dinner, so I don’t get in your way. Weekend schedule. Signs you’re bringing someone home and I should wear headphones.” He looked a touch green about that last one, though Tom couldn’t imagine why.

This guy is a little obsessive.

“No smoking, but as long as nothing is illegal, bring whatever you want.”

“I don’t smoke.” Alex made a face of disgust. “It’s revolting and will kill a person.”

“Right. No standing appointments, I make dinner when I’m hungry, I don’t have a weekend schedule, and there hasn’t been much of bringing guys home lately, but I’ll tell you if I plan to. Here, give me your number.”

Alex blinked twice at the mention of bringing men home but held out his phone so Tom could put in his own number, then text himself.

“There. I can give you a heads-up if I’m planning on bringing anyone back.” Though he thought it would probably be best for all involved for s*x to happen at the other guy’s place, if he happened to hook up with anyone while Alex was around. This inquisition wasn’t very sexy, and Tom was starting to wonder if Alex would ask for anticipated time of orgasm. To make sure his headphones were turned up, of course.

“Thank you.” Alex took his phone, to which he seemed very attached. “May I ask your Wi-Fi network name and password?”

“I’ll show you where I keep it, taped to the inside of a cupboard in the kitchen.” He never could remember the damn password, and he only hoped it made his network tough to hack.

The information went onto Alex’s phone, naturally. Without looking up, he asked, “Do you have any allergies?”

“Cats.”

“Is it alright if I keep some food in your refrigerator?”

“Of course. You don’t have to live out of your suitcase. Oh yeah, here’s the extra key.”

He’d just passed it over when his phone started playing the ringtone he’d assigned to work. “And that’s the on-call business.”

“On call for what, if I may ask?”

“Locksmith. Make yourself at home, I’ve gotta go.”

Frankly, it was hard to imagine Alex making himself at home, but the offer was open. As Tom rode the elevator down, he wondered what he’d gotten himself into.

* * * *

Alex

Tom’s apartment had a gas stove. Alex eyed the appliance for a moment, considering all the ways it could cause him grievous bodily harm. Then he opened a new window on his phone and searched for ‘gas stove safety.’

Why can’t people use nice, safe electric stoves?

Happily, gas leak detectors existed. He peered around the kitchen for such a device, but couldn’t find one, or a carbon monoxide detector either. The smoke alarm appeared to be in good working order, at least, but Tom was clearly not the kind of man who worried about a gas leak killing him in his sleep.

To be fair, most people weren’t.

Alex ordered the gas and carbon monoxide detectors with overnight shipping. He debated buying two of each, to have backups, but he was trying not to be so very obviously a nervous wreck, and he thought he could probably sleep without the spares. If not, he could always order more.

Having sorted out the first problem, he moved on to the open flame. A quick search under the sink yielded a recently inspected fire extinguisher. This was all well and good, but what happened if the fire had already spread to the cupboard where the lifesaving device was stored? No, a single extinguisher wouldn’t do at all. He should’ve kept his extra with him, instead of leaving it in his mom and stepdad’s garage where it wouldn’t do him any good.

He ordered a fire extinguisher and decided not to think about cooking over an actual flame. Surely, for three weeks he could make do between the oven, microwave, and takeout. It might even be less than three weeks, if he could find an apartment that was already vacant.

Other than the potential death trap in the kitchen, Tom’s place wasn’t bad. It was close enough to a hospital in case of emergency, within easy walking distance of the subway, the neighborhood had an acceptably low crime rate, and there was nothing obviously dangerous such as exposed wiring. He had to take Tom’s word on the lack of mold, as the menace was sometimes invisible. At Alex’s old place, there was a thriving colony under the floor.

He read over his notes. Tom was being very kind, and Alex didn’t intend to be any more of an inconvenience than he had to be, which meant staying out of his host’s way. That done, he headed to set up his computer. With the threat of a gas leak going unnoticed he wasn’t going to get much sleep, so he might as well work on his latest book cover.